pg 48

November 6, 2011, 5:27 am
Filed under: Uncategorized

i have all these grand traditions. one of them, what i’m doing now, is sitting drunk, typing, and thinking that the words i wrote, or have yet to write but will, are destined for greatness. i’ll tell you, it makes standing in a bar feel less awkward. as though yeah i’m here but soon i’ll be at home writing prose the likes of which cuts truth and beauty in half so that it’s okay that i’m standing in the bar now because later i’ll be impressing you. sad no? sad is me, sad is me trying to catch my drunken breath after a thick bike ride home so that now here i am, sitting and drinking on my porch trying to call forth the words that i can’t help but shake the feeling are inside of me and are great. listen to the rasp of my breath as i try to call forth the words and the strength while smoking a cigarette and drinking a beer on my front porch.
the city, as has been written countless times before, is alive. i can here it’s call and i can here its citizens or at least one as she coughs up phloem on her walk home, her walk by my house here at 18 leeds. why is my rasp so clear. why am i so alone. these are the questions that i shan’t give periods, puncuation to because to do so would admit my defeat. it’s soon winter and i’m soon cold though not now as i am drunk and as i have betrayed my declaration of weeks prior in which i told the world that i wouldn’t show this version of my face again. and yet here it is. there’s a way that truth seeps out of the soul that calms even the beast of us. there’s a way that i know i have words to speak and words to share but have i yet found them? i have not. so we continue. so i strive to find that voice within me that speaks to the lot of you, the lot of us. there isn’t truth in desparation any more than there is truth in what i now type. though this is truth and though there is truth in desperation. funny how the world can seem when you know you have something but don’t know what it is. shall we keep going?

read these words, read where i’m coming from and try to see yourself in me. is it possible? can one person even attempt to speak for the lot of us. they can if they are true to how they feel and they are true to the feelings that keep pushing such speech forward.

i have been with a woman, a woman who said ‘do anything you want’ and yet given the range of such possibility i did not know what to do. it showed me that if not the world but at least i need boundaries to contain myself within. one day this will all be over for me and on that day i will not be able to think back to this time of typing on my front porch with a beer at my side and a rasp in my lungs. but i won’t be sad because i won’t know that i miss this time because this time is gone. tomorrow i will awake and stress over the words i have yet not read and the mother i have to entertain and make believe that i am happy and stress free. typing those words i can feel the future and can rejoice in the time it affords me to pretend that everything is okay.

how it must feel to birth a child. how i can’t see into the future to know whether this will be a feeling i get to experience. it seems a gift and what does it mean that already i feel myself worthy of it. the future is not scary, what is deep within our souls is. count your blessing young one so that we all may come to feel the warmth that you feel now.

does feeling a breath of alcohol that is 6.75 percent make up for any previous transgressions? of course it don’t. are you asking me what it feels like to not have anything to say when you’re standing beside an acquaintance trying to make friends? i feel lonely and i feel full all at the same time. i feel that the world will never know this secret blog of mine. i think to the time that i die and the people close to me who will find all my journals with all my scribbling and what they will think yet they won’t find this. this is true freedom that the world has afforded me. this is the flame that burns the words that would have been seen had this been written in a time before blogs in a time before anonymity. and see how i spelled that word wrong and see how the red dotted underline corrected it and pointed me in the right direction. see what the world has to say. see.


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