-There is nothing to fear & nothing to doubt.
-Here I'm allowed, everything all of the time.
-No matter what happens now, I shouldn't be afraid because I know today has been one of the most perfect days I've ever seen.

It has been like that, all like that...




I hover through the skies, which resemble fucking life.



I slide. I slide. I attempt to glide. This transparent tar won't let me gain momentum. No trees to climb up & jump off. 7808 nights have I tried. I start running at the white sunset. As fast as I can. Til the white sunrise. I rest on the floor wondering what has gone wrong. I hear birds chirp, but I cannot see them. The heat dries me. My piece of sky does always seem white. I ignore if such sight fits into what life is like. I feel muddy. The world wobbles. I dream about twisting food. I should be able to sense the bed of twigs I can smell. I at times think worst. I call my own name. I must be mute to have never heard nothing. I at times think right. I dream up green skies. I think up purple tar. I badly fear some cracking. My cozy universe. I endlessly slide, only attempting to glide.


Fucking Tuesday. People removing non-existent hats. Words of stench. Impossibly yahooable introductions. Fruity fingers ponting at what no one might have done. Remembering previous 11/4's. Counting them. Onion taste. No-smoking schools. Defective grammar. Unwined. Triple meals. The unfeasibility of neat transport. 3's & 6's. From beginning to end. Fucking Tuesdays.



Can someone who has never existed vanish? Can I erase somebody who never was? This exiguous thought I have embraced for such a long time happens to have slowly turned unjustified & tiresome. At the lack of faith, I encounter a vision full of excuses & lame purposes to feel alive. Life itself ought to be enough [Not that any justification might be needed, you understand] Purgatory & Heaven have always seemed puerile. Nihilism appears distant & unfeasible. & Hell is not what you are thinking of...I wonder where I will go after what I am about to state [I have abandoned expectation in a bag of dirty ideas, but I can still try to forsee] I am who I am. I can ackowledge I am here. I can acknowledge He is not. The alleged omnipotence & omnipresence, traits created to add value to any given deity, make it tougher to digest. The benevolence, which seldom takes place, has long ago gone far from sight. The consideration of a great architect, suitable for a theory full of holes, fails to belong. I think I am real, & I believe He is not...


The past has taken a peek onto the platform where I rest now. I feared its innate volatility might come on stage to reclaim its share. "What if such volatility comes back?" -someone asked me last week. I must admit I felt fright. I ought to admit I do not want it to come back since I dig where I am. I should not let it step foward because of her. I should not let it step foward because of myself.



A sweet sweaty sworn swollen swarmed kiss for you.