if you can muster the strength to say there is no hope
then there is hope.
every single light has a purpose.
don’t forget it. don’t forget it. don’t forget it.
don’t mourn the dimming of a light for long because just as quickly as the little paper lantern burns away, the sun comes.
even if the sun sets, the paper lanterns will light up again.
wage war. slave to work. caffeine. body levels normal.
regaining control, slowly but surely.
mind? gone.
maybe the stars are aligned.
they seem to be lately.
I hope it stays this way.
For everyone.
Whitley,
I’d write you a poem,
but I’m not really a poet.
I just make word pyramids,
in the best way I know how.
One day, we’ll bury each other in books.
We’ll look at each other and laugh, until we become paper that reads,
“remember that time when”.
I’d pay your dowry.
But I’m a poor guy.
But one day, I promise… I’ll try.
Lightning is such a beautiful phenomenon.
Pillars, stairways that connect what’s just beyond the mental reach of humans to the earthly realm.
I can’t help but be jealous.
I can’t help but think that my stream of lightning is over.
I don’t want to be punished and bound as a prisoner anymore.
I’m ready, and if the gods can’t see that, then I hope they strike me down next.
Crystals. Crystals. Crystals.
At least I’m not getting into trouble.
At least I’m occupied.
At least…
of mambos and culture,
snow and lightning,
that is what my future is made of.
I don’t like it when things get too loud, but I don’t like the emptiness either.
A medium for a desperate muse I suppose.
My mantra should be ‘pizza and nothing less’.
or ‘cuddle me with pizza and stuff’.
