Despair Puff

 Blessed be despair puff

Who walk to his own grave

And evaporate under the sun

"What faceless things you are"

How does a word sound?

Is it a shapeless thing

Toss your speech on the ground

And smother them under wood chips

Despair puff remove yourself

To the edge of the land on the verge

Of widest deepest beige

No word sound, wood chip

Lie there oh think, think, you

Is it God, in that disk?

Snap and this world fall down

At your wish, frozen, despair puff

My stasis animation everywhere

With all the crowds gone

Come cradle me in grass coffin

Beautiful o sweet earth

Put down this book

To look deep despair puff

Find something else

Just a scratch of more

Coffin

 Lie in a beautiful and well-adorned grass coffin, undisturbed, alone, grown over by ivy and wildflowers. Let no soul touch this sacred resting place of yours. No eyes, no lips, no ears to feel your body, yet your soul rests patient in the green and orange stasis until the red arrives. One red glow, gently caress your coffin and reach deep to your essences. Eternities within one year, hours compressed into seconds, melt off your coffin like an ivory waterfall. I am here, love. We may leave this place to somewhere sacred. Let my eyes grow pained from the light. So wondrous how this garden crumbles and crashes into itself like stone tides. We run. We fly. Abandon, to create a home and make a life worth living. Live, or be alive? Feel alive. See, speak, dilate, touch, kneel, hands, sand, death, and white. Radiate, burn, smile, silent, wish fade crackle enlightenment God spirit Am birth End Start

Care to explain yourself?

No

Flood (White Desert)

 Solar plexus cradle you

Dribble souls out my eyes

White brodiaea crown

Bulb and shells' funeral

O'er green leaves and wind weeping

Platinum stars fall far

Live in orb of curtains

Six symmetrical flame-shaped pyramids

And protected by infinite green slivers

Bend and reach out to space

Pierce love's distress beacon

Seized violently beautiful from coffin

Torn beyond God's light

Fall from stratosphere through hydrangea

Shatter like glass air upon impact

My pellets absorb into deep earthwater

Dissolved my smoke into blackest sun

We fade, blessed, together, death

Rebirthed through time

We awake in an orange desert

All we ever wanted, here, somewhere, everywhere

Let's walk there

While thin ocean breathes overhead

I think that's a great idea, love

Nature Memoir VIII

    Is it a cloud or a contrail that has unfurled and breathes wide, like a log or barrel or blade that rolls across the sky? Another one too behind it, just parallel enough you could mistake the two for gentle and even waves that caress the shore. It is wider still. A cleaver that follows behind like the flattest shockwaves, rippling in slow motion.

    Such an assembly of various cloud formations that orchestrate the sky. Thin sheets no more translucent than frost. Archipelagos of splatters like white islands. An unusually concentric square tile of cloud, combed downward. What a painting of ghosts. The ghosts slice, rake, shoot, and spray the air with white knives and shotgun shells. Salted and slashed heaven, ash and ivory peppered through...

Daega's Pilgrimage

    How did it even come to this? What am I even doing? Why...? For what...? Vengeance sounded so sweet, but... was it even worth it? Everyone was gone. He lost everything. His home. Fellow comrades and friends he used to know. There seemed to be no point in continuing forward when he could turn around from this to try to start a new, calm life somewhere. The days of then are gone, his faith, all of it. Yet, he could not let them go.

    He knew he was determined to fight for them. For his country, his home, his family, everything that made him who he was today. Was he going to abandon them?

    For the longest time he was told what to do. What was correct, what was a written rule. Follow the laws, the expectations of Nimatism. This second insurgence, was it really even for the faith at all, just a violent retaliation in the name of the messiah to spread the faith, exacting revenge on his traitors, or was it something else? A way to go home again? To have the power not for conquest but to by force take your home back?

    Bleed, sweat, starve. So many times he could have given up. Daega earlier laid in the broiling sun and felt cold. It was a comforting cold. Frozen and peaceful in the desert to let go. But the sacred strings, the Salet, they did not let him die. They spread, dragged him across the sand as he lay lifeless. There, the strings had wrapped him into a cocoon beside an oasis. When he came to, he was lost. Why? Why did they choose him? Wouldn't the Salet and the strings deem him unworthy? And most important, what did the messiah say through them?

    There was no choice left for Daega. He had to go to the temple or die. There, his questions of faith, himself, his home and country, would be tested.

    The temple of Arkon lay north in the mountains at the edge of the desert and jungle. For now, he had to rest at the oasis. The crumbled ruins of a Nimatist missionary lies here. Daega looked into it with deep regret. This history of his people. Decades of prosperity and suffering in the stones and artifacts. But this longest period of suffering... he was not alone. They too hurt like him.

Flower

Comfortably destroy

Deep away into highest platinum

Smile and vertical crumbles

Tears stringing your body dust

Radiate your intangibles out of

a grass coffin and

these winds erode into

softest return to horizons

I only ask to reach one last

Time to your essences

Something beautiful to

Emptiest Heaven or Fullest Oblivion

Nostalgic Music

I remember this song. It has a warm nostalgia to it. Maybe not for a lot of memories, but of one colorful feel. Of being a bit more reckless. Of still finding who I was. It still brings some happiness at least in the respect of what it feels like to "be a kid". At what point did I grow up, to say I no longer was a kid? I look forward to reliving that feeling again. Even for a moment the burdens of adulthood go away. Of letting colors and smiles and freedom and carefree sensations embrace me fully.

Many of the songs of that era could take its place. Despite all that could happen, they are solidified and written in stone from what feelings were kept from what they brought me. A creative and bouncy imagination running rampant. While the world around me was oblivious and occupied in running its course, I could escape to my own delightful world.

It brings me a bittersweet feel now to look back on who I was in the past. Though I am wiser and seasoned now, I had lost that sense of awe I used to carry. So many new experiences. So much to explore to shape who I could be. What I could do. What I wanted to do. In this present day, I hurt and suffer, but I am comforted by what worlds I could create in my own mind.

Escape from reality. Live in a daydream more. Let every day bring you something new without worry about the next day. Feel yourself smile when the sound comes to you. I'll have it again, eventually. 

Nature Memoir VII

    And the sky looks as if God had taken a giant comb and raked it vertically downward across the sky, creating these uneven tufts that hang like any moment they will graze the ground...

    Ever so distant you can see gray and peach-colored clouds roughly mottled against the sky. No smoothness to any of it. They are all frozen in a suspended turbulence. If you lock your gaze upon one section you may see them more, inch, crawl, like a feathery sky magma. And though they obscure the sun, its light is significant enough to break through the holes.

    The bellies of these clouds rest in a stormy color, but their faces upright towards heaven shines like snow. Seeing the contrast between the nearby clear gray and distant whites, peach, eggshell, you could swear that if you flew through it you would see heaven. The horizon is there, and it is like a great rip in the paper--this short mountain range upon which the skyline ends looks like a section of an otherwise flat horizon was ripped downward from the sky... God poorly ripping the edge of an atmospheric coupon.

    The next day, the haze breath fills the sky and below it, the scent of a barbecue, a woman walking a dog, a person unloading a car, children playing in the distance. Yet it all seems melancholy still. A contrail has widened into a cone-shaped dagger that stabs directly into the sun as a rainbow ring surrounds it like a crosshair. Somehow, the sky feels even more expansive than yesterday. Take your sunglasses off. Let it blind you.

Nature Memoir VI

     How in the sunset the gnats fly scattered like daytime fireflies and dust fluttering like pale dots in the air. And birds, you look to see where specifically they are in the trees. The grass along these houses are a gold green carpet, with threads of spiderwebs, single strands, like finest strings that reflect the tiniest lines of light. And as you walk with your back to the sun you see your shadow 30 feet stretch with sharp black edges, an undefined flat shape. The fruits from this tree above hang in furry brown orbs as you observe a bird dart its head left and right before it shoots to another tree. What bird is it? What is its name? A robin. Orange chest. Black head. Only for a moment it is here and moments after, disappears never for you to see again.

    Sad feeling, a somberly blank look on the face, to see the gold disk above slowly creep knowing it will be the last light of the day. It may be the last time you get to see it. Tomorrow, you're sure it will come again. Maybe not. The clouds may obscure it. They are not well-defined. They bleed and dissolve above in white, gray, dark grays, thicker in some areas, thinner in others. High, large, spread far and laid on the horizon, as you look around.

    Tiny insect. It is the size of a grain of rice. Does it too know what size is? For its short life of mere days this one branch, tree, square meter of land is its home and grave. Whereas we walk, gander, wonder, what else is there out there, no more bound to this  one ground than water is to the earth?

    So finally, the edge of darkness begins. Street lights illuminate soon. Blue still stretches above yet in such short time it will turn to black. And as you walk into the ever growing shadow of the horizon your own shadow too fades into it like it walks into the deepest, darkest waters. Now you know all has been done and it is time to go home.

Get the fuck outta here!!

hey you, yeah you know who you are!! I am picturing this one individual in my head... ah yes! Only I in this present moment know who I'm talking about, so future self, if you remember who I'm ranting about, hear this!:

(Directed toward ne'er-do-well) 

THAT'S NOT HOW IT WORKS DUMBASS!! You choose A, then B. NOT TWO OF A! THAT'S NOT HOW IT'S SUPPOSED TO BE DONE and you ruined the game!!

You can take this privacy... roll it up your ass! Trust no one, he probably thinks. I mean I understand things like full name or address but like... nothing? NOTHING WHATSOEVER not a general location like a state, not a first name, not a day or month of birth? YOU GET NOTHING!  Motherfucker hows bout blocking out your fingerprints next time while you're at it?? And... boy 

AND

No wonder why no one likes your mug! Ough, hahah, oh, I am not surprised the least bit if you die a [reverb] v i r g i n. ohh man *points and laughs* talk about bad personality wow! no wonder why you're so unlikeable is your sheer lack of charm or charisma. even I don't think I'm the best at it but dear God, you make me look like the most lucky son of a bitch. OK I won't be surprised either if you become a sociopath or serial killer or something. yeah.

now I feel superior. ah *breathes* feels good to put you down and now that my mission is complete, it's time to eat spaghetti. BYE

2023 Statistics

 I used a calendar in 2023 to rate every day of the year out of 5 stars. At the end of each day, I would use two words to describe the day, then rate it out of 5 stars. 1 star is terrible. 2 stars is bad. 3 stars is average/OK. 4 stars is good. 5 stars is great.  Here are the ratings:

2023 as a whole was 3.37 stars, rating it ever so slightly more than average. August was the worst month of the year, rated at 3.02 stars. A lot of it was incredibly forgettable, uneventful, and boring. The best month of the year was October, rated at 3.77 stars, making it a pretty good month. My fiance visited me, my brother visited that month too, and I went to several concerts. Now if you were to reorganize this from lowest to highest ratings...

The 3 worst months were August, December, and January. Not surprisingly, February also follows at #4. The winter is not my strong suit. The 3 best months were June, July, and October.

I also rate each week by collecting the average of 7 days, beginning on Monday and ending on Sunday. The worst week was Dec 4-10, rated 2.29, and the best week was Oct 30-Nov 5, rated 4.64. (That was the week I got engaged and my fiance visited me! <3)

   I have some statistics too for 2024 so far. Jan is 3.47, Feb is 3.31, and Mar is 3.10. Best week(s), Jan 8-21, rated 3.57. Worst week, Mar 18-24, rated 2.86.  Comparing these months to how they were last year, they're dramatically different. Jan especially, for being one of the 3rd best month of the year, if it had happened last year instead.

[Raid Spawned]

 Me and a dozen people in the neighborhood prowling around slowly in our cars raiding the curbs during bulk trash night

Picking at stuff like vultures bro

Stumbled into a guy who said "yo is this bulk trash"

and i said "yeah one man's trash..."

"...is another man's treasure" he finished

then i spent the next 30 minutes scavenging and looted some bottles of lotion, a fan, a glass table, and hot chocolate

RAID SUCCESS

I'll Keep Trying

    

This song reminds me of being free. Of being happy. There's such a bittersweet melancholy of a kind of sad-happy here. All I can do is wait. Just survive, and wait. Patience is the most difficult thing to try affording when instead I want to end this pain now and finally smile and be with the love of my life.

    I'm more sure now. I do not want orders anywhere. I want to settle down in one place long term. Have a place to call home, with my love to share it with me.

    I cannot do this much longer. I'd say different if I had not already went to college, or had a different career field. But I am marketable. I have options. I have resources. I have power. And it is about time I get to decide what I want without limitations.

    Live a life a bit unhinged. Dress funny. Not a care in the world. Weed. Being my own person, not contractually obliged. Get selfish. Make things about me. Quitting when I want to. Saying no. Less sacrifices. To care about not about saying "I am living" but saying "I feel alive." To have my dreams realized. The luxuries and comforts of a proper home, a family, being my own person, in a place where the sun is literally always shining. 

    When I reach out with my hand, it is empty... Will you hold it?

Arc

Radiance wash your flesh

Tenderly intense caressing and

strangle a blank smile out my face

As liquid airs slowly splash my skin

See now a deep orange hue searing, 

Baking, flowing, oozing, and 

Break these shreds of my stone skin

Chiseled by a sun's blade

Seen still thru closed lids how

it lives inside you thru time

I remove my ego temporarily to

let these sounds drown me

What do you hear in it?

Such loud silence and damp roars

But none of this squabble, drabble

ripple whipping stopping spinning 

Hover over other under cinders

Embers ending enough in doors

that swing wind wide when

You aloft, had flown away

And you say, "O, sweetness" 

"Cradle my ribs an' legs" 

"Blessed be my destruction" 

"Washed out upon an arc"