" states of love, and other human constructs "

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do you ever not really know how you feel?

your arms go limp and your hands flex and release. your eyes start to go cross-eyed out of sheer exhaustion of the soul. the vision blurs to black and stars begin to emerge.

i am frustrated, angry, depressed, unsure, aloof, saddened, strong-willed, sure-footed, weary, weak, and all of the attributes that come alongside confusion and the recalculation of your strength of character.

it's a feeling like you just want to take your pants off and lay down on cool wide sheets; let everything that is binding you closer to yourself free to extend beyond your skin.

i want to yell out loud, thrash a lea of thorned reeds, punch a clock until i stop time, and tear at jagged rocks until my finger-bones break, and the entirity of my corporeal being bursts in the flame of defeat, the body's gasses exhume, and i dissapate into nothingness.

i want to sit in a dim room, alone and with everyone, run in wide circles, sleep all day long until the day recirculates and all sense of light and night is nothing but figments of fragmented dreamery, lie next to clear rivers and close my eyes and let the afternoon light dance upon my eyelids through the thick of leaves, read neruda poetry until the hurt little boy inside of me can regain some lost pride.

there are no regrets in taking chances, so i should not be this way. and yet i am, and this is the state of being, in references to things and occurences, that have been discovered, gained, had, lost, and passed.

this is the truth of the moment, when the moment turns from what you have into what you now do not have. but, did i really "have" anything at all?

maybe so,
but maybe not.

you get to a point where you have to ask, "what does this mean?" the hard part is when there is nothing that has meaning in what you are attempting to deconstruct.

excuses are made by you in your favor, or your ex's favor; nothing is really fully clear or explainable. thus, you live the following two weeks in a sullen stupor, hoping that someone or thing will take all of this away. the key i suppose is to create your own strength then, and take all of your own pains away.

but the medicine is always easier to prescribe than to consume. but i am trying.

...

so i guess, here's to staring down at the full spoon,

with my mouth open wide.

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