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12 June 2015 @ 07:09 pm
consolidating event  
from every angle, let’s review the matter
with every angel. every bruise has its certainty.
every contusion its brutal mechanism of acquisition.

smoke & mirrors, mirrors & smoke: did it ever occur to me that a common allegory for deception is something that leaves one staring at a distorted version of oneself? you beg and plead. you pray someone is listening.


1,400 odd days gone [memory] i collapsed into the steering wheel
i sobbed for an hour

i sobbed until the shadows changed angles, until darkness filled in every visual ambiguity. i sobbed until my joints and concaves brimmed with ink. the stubbed hyperbole unfolds: i sobbed until i forgot. all of it. his name, her name, my name, our convoluted narrative, our means to a bad end and i just kept sobbing. take a new name, construct a new station(1) in life – does it really matter? in the end we’ll make the same mess of it. your new name will become your old one. my better habits will collapse under my worse ones. crying at the wheel again i know who i am. i am wracked with debt and incompetence. i am a chaotic misstatement. i forgot where i left my keys. my front passenger tire is very slowly going flat. i thought — i thought maybe — i

continual negotiation:
what we don’t have against
what we do have against
what we could have against
what cannot be had, but only
shared, experienced, or acknowledged;
what we want, what we need,
what we don’t want, what we have regardless,
what we wish we didn’t
(what is it?)


struggling to bring into form with another that which we won’t even acknowledge within ourselves. we pull the loop over ourselves, into ourselves, we tie ourselves out of infinity. forced into the moment, we refuse to acknowledge it.

maybe vampires exist to thin the herd. choose who goes on. select, naturally. maybe the romance of the vampire is actually more about our desire to be the one who chooses as opposed the ones who are chosen or who are not.

(confession: sometimes i cannot spell words i have historically been able to spell. historically, i’ve never been much for spelling or grammar, but this is something else. i neglect letters, obvious phonetic participants in the language, no french auditory sublimation — an obvious and vital appendage of the word i am trying to convey. i guess it happens when i’m tired, distracted, rushing on ahead of myself. i guess it happens when i’m confusing myself with somebody else.)

in the end, we are all somebody else.

we couldn’t recognize ourselves from a distance. we can’t identify our own ideas and beliefs when they are explained back to us in slightly different language. sometimes we kill each other over the same ideas and beliefs explained back to us in slightly different language. sometimes we just run away. lock each other out. where did i leave my key?

someday i thought i’ll be someone

372 odd pages gone [summation] that quick chill, that where i should be (where should i be) the sleeping mistress of alternate identity, the scarves and hairpieces i might have worn if i'd ever truly learned to wield a broadsword. not a matter of learning the weave, a matter of not having the strands in the first place. my knitting needles clatter, my first skein is out. how is that? i never knit. i just know how. empty up the aisle, everything is an option, nothing calls the choice.

don’t talk to me right now, she said. i haven’t got anything good to say.

out the window, dry wind, drier still with the dust and smoke. she's waiting for an answer. some response. the other end is silent. she's not even sure that he's still there. does she want him there? she’s not sure she does. does she? of course she


hips and blunders
lips and wonders

rattle out the memory
rattle it on down the line



signals shot off and forgotten deep into space.
that longing you finger more deeply every time you reach for it
but never touch the center of
but never find the core
do you read me


did you ever





(1) STATION: stasis, place, anchor, static, place in life, place in society, arrangement of the heavens, origin of broadcast signal, place where signal is received.
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mood: 417hz
 
 
 
crimson_vitacrimson_vita on June 13th, 2015 04:30 am (UTC)
If we should ever start some business of some sort, I do believe our motto/company promise should be "From every angle, we review the matter."

(I only read the first line just now, and it exploded in my head- so many things just, so many......I must read the rest later.)