sometimes

after it rains 

i open my window.

the sounds of

passing cars,

the rustling of generic branches, 

and the hedonistic screams, or were they the discounted prayers?

of cement children

make me want to go to the beach

delirium produced by sleep deprivation instructed me

to make an

a

narcisticallyaesthetic

portrait of

myself.

what resulted was

a fever of

cognitive sass

and terrible prose

I will tell you

why

i canpostthis.

because because

existential futility and

all that.

nihilism is sarcastic fuel

acting like

carbon dioxide

eroding this

cognitive atmospheric layer

which tried to convince me

it was the truth.


the holes in the cranial ozone

exposed how methodically

time

organizes

the self when

you try to control its

passage.


and once

a moth told me

of my existence

ofexistence

and kissed my grey matter.


remember the

the plague?

sleep deprivation

showed me the plague again.

it was intoxicating.

did.

i tell you that.

the brain is my favorite organ?

and

and I want you to know that

you are beautiful

like a migraine.

I apologize,

but,

the abstract

took a .45 automatic

colt pistol to my head.

and

it was a wonderfully vivid experience

aesthetics inevitably execute the mind.





although my cranial walls

were still

not fully exposed for what they were

at least the flowers no longer

served to function

as an illusion.





a honey bee told me

aesthetics govern lies.

i believed it despite the fact

that i didnt trust

its yellow and black stripes.

but they reminded me of home.





how beautiful the weeds were

when they took all the pigment from the lawn.

I didn’t need to mow it, but

i set up a lawn chair and patriotically watched my weeds grow





and finally, when left alone the weeds brought back the most violent shades of colors and





the coordinates of my, my very own

meridian was marked.




it’s mine

my own little

doldrum,

an existentialist playground where i fester and i grow.





no one taught me how to swing on the monkey bars

and i lacked the self confidence

to go past the second one

and would jump down to the asphalt.


cement prayers

hedonistically intoxicate me.

i wasnt warned of the side

effects

and since then i love to

go to the disco with my inertia

and wallow in the selfish stupidy of self pity.

oh how it shines.

at least i

now know

the extent to which

these cognitive walls

exist

I am happy

here.

I’ll stop with the bad screenshots I promise

I’ve had so much homework

I am getting stir-crazy and ended up in the dark depths of youtube… this later devolved into the insanely popular but creepy crevices of the youtube interwebz

I need sleep I cant deal with 80s