Slow

Trying to take a nap while standing in the shower

Awake

Slow exhaustion,

the lights hitting my body? brain? on-edged self –

flooding in confusion

Stratification

We’re going back to the slave society,

Climbing down the ladder – a reverse slide of enslavement

Primitive sentiments and violent hatred straight from the cold hearts of caves

Which year are really living? Slowly sliding to the dawn of human consciousness

Through feudal to the thinking of slave societies.

A tribute to Max Weber

 

We’re making people rational,

Sketching full scaffolds that draws the lines

Between control and shaking anxiety.

Rationality,

take animal instincts by the shoulders and drown it back into my veins.

Artificial civilisation governed from the capital of capital

We’re our own prophets now – self-fulfilling prophecies

Man in the seat of god, ideology hold the reigns of my scripture

We can make us rational, we can make things.

We can whole worlds make sense to us in ways it never has.

trust fissures

do you ever scare yourself

with how in the moment you can squander it all break things to no return

and kill the love someone has for you

blame, blame blame

All hail

crossed the line

i always cross the line,

but the difference is by now i know that what i spoil is irreplaceable –

i can’t return any broken thing to itself

ive spoiled things beond repair.

i always cross the line and it’s always too late.

there’s never a return

A letter to public speaking

The frantic pace of fingers drumming on keypads

heart beating to an ever increasing furious pace

as all things rush along, movements and sounds flashing through tunneled vision

the world crescending in a whirlwind of sentence fragments

as you finally collapse to the end of a stuttery presentation,

how do people collect that cool calm authority they don’t actually have

Commitment

dragged down to the bowels of hell

with you,

but staying there

because, i love you.

and i’m not crawling out, until i’m pulling you out with me

 

Exhaustion

I’m in tears and out of love with life –

but i know that that’s because i’m exhausted,

tired beyond words, tired beyond myself.

self-entitled exhaustion when there are people out there with real

exhaustion seeping into their souls.

for them, i pray, already kneeling with my own

inconsequential tiredness

hating the inauthenticity of this very exhaustion and bout of feelings

it’s not me feeling it really, right?

Isn’t it just the chemicals called tiredness and hunger?

so different in the daytime – unrecognizable thought patterns

then who am i? if this is me at this moment.