I've noticed that my writing has shifted, it's shifted from a sense of fluidity to a jolted sense of stream lining thoughts.

Well basically poetry.

Although, it's not only my writing, I guess its in many cases, me too. Once having the greatest need to spill, get it out, ramble. No understanding of selfworth, of self. Many say that being selfless is some attractive state, but honestly, how could you be certain of how to treat another being if you can't even function as human yourself.

This is the realisation, the finding, the knowing. Each day marking and seeing the moments of self progression, once your energy is stable, this is how I figured out how to human.

The process isn't over yet, hell not even for a long shot, but I'm getting this 'life' thing, I'm getting it in a way I never have before.

I like this new sense or at least better sense of knowing. Now to just not get lost in it.

REMINDER: Keep yourself human, that's all you are, that's all anyone is.

Human. 

There’s this approach

theres this instance 

where in one motion

notion 

it is there

right here

everything felt

is gained in this 

moment

instance

understanding

 

and it fills you with this 

this vigour

there is no constraint

 

ripples on skin

your skin

my 

my skin

 

and it instills this

fear

but fear is perfect

fear is what you need

fear is the base of 

of knowing

 

and I’m in this 

this vibration of movement

this movement

which my pulse doesn’t understand

although the cosmos is there

in all it’s certainty

 

life

realisation it’s all 

there

And I kind of feel crooked

my hands feel small

my nose cold

and I'm waiting for the orbit

the moon to find its place

the water to fill my ears

my collar

for those lights to catch the stones

those planes to collide

to explode

fill me with some other form of 

intention

some other way of knowing

I mean, you could say

extonetial

but it's the shapes on the ground

hexadecimal

what does that even mean

disjointed in this perfect

isolation

and my nose is running

sniff

my legs are dangling

breath 

the planes are crashing

sleep

just sleep

broken hearts bleed 

demise

trust...

only you, only your heart

give no way to broken skulls

and shattered hip bones

creeping extensively

but no better than last

no better

than the drops on the pane

no better than the gravel

between your joints

fall into that hole

and stay

further into the

earth

smell the sand

mud blocking your

ears

hold your breath

rooted

Cool write down the sensible list

what makes sense and what doesn’t

 

Life? Does that make sense right now

 

well in part, I mean it’s merely progression, wanting to be something that you have no certainty of yet

yes 

progression

 

I can honestly feel it though

that gauged ache of being without you

it doesn’t wrap my throat anymore

 

Sleeping is easier 

but later

its filled with interest of substance

of more

 

it’s filled with knowing

in one side of my shoulder

in waves of my head

 

its harmless unspoken

stumped

there’s no internet that’s the problem

 

 

Self awareness 

and i feel like 

you

you know this deepened

sense of nothing

 

I feel like I need to stop saying I

eye.. 

 

I feel like you know those broken shards in me 

eye feel like this is depressing me

me

 

should probably see somebody

cool stop now.

So what we did was ok?

Yea, in my opinion it was

 

It was a wasted moment of feeling

we shared

it was just a moment 

shared again and again

but that's what makes it ok

it was a moment

 

Love is a lifetime

love is something that is present constantly

it's the decision to create memories

things you want to keep

 

Dusty letters and stones

random prints on your spine

fingers and hips and places

it's an individual 

 

Their bones

their skin which you want to climb into

their hair where you sleep

i died in this

I’m dying

I’m dying to fade

i don’t know

seus 

these animals on my lap make it extremely hard to write

 

why is it that I can’t get over these normalities 

this trivial

trivial

its all so wasteful

these emotions

feelings

blocked 

solid lining my thoughts

white paint scraping my elbows

 

stretching chest cavities

hollow and awake

The drunken thoughtlessness of an evening can seem so easily appealing. So easily achieved. Mistakes, oh mistakes, never have I made such conscious mistakes.

 

After a bottle of wine, maybe a few more. The music was suited, intense then changing. Light hearted. I said “Lets swim!” and promptly undressed myself, you didn’t hesitate either and soon we were diving, swimming until there was nothing. Until you were nothing, until they were nothing. All I could do was swim, as if my life depended on it. I liked the burning, the too cold summer water swishing past my ears, filling the gaps between my fingers.

 

Your voice pulled me back, slashing through my head, “Get out of the fucking water, are you mad? It is freezing.”

 

Eyes blood shot, chlorine induced, someones shirt wrapped tightly around my shoulders. Scrabble came next. Then Lee got sick, crying, she needed to be warm and in bed. “Here drink this, its water, you’ll be just fine, I love you too..” Scrabble continued. We continued. Glimpses, and me secretly hoping that you saw as I looked away.

 

More wine. I need to pee, ended up swigging Ret’s whisky in the bathroom. It’s not ok. Burns the back of my throat, as the tears sting my eyes. This is ok. New dose of bravery.

 

The grass outside and a newly lit cigar. Counting 1 2 3.. GO! nothing. Mike leaves. Right, this is what I wanted, it’s what I had hoped of this evening, conscious.

 

You won’t stop saying my name, eventually I don’t know whether you’re crying or laughing. Kissing. Under the blanket of this conscious mistake I so wilfully made. Stop stop stop. No, sweaty palms on my back, my shoulders, my tummy, my  neck. Teeth, grazes, grass burns.

 

“Get up, let us go inside, it’s raining, Ret might come out?” Stumbling you get up, curling your toes over the edge, unconsciously wrapping my arms around your waist, you pissing. Embarrassed I go inside on my own.

 

“You’re crying? Why? Please stop, please please please” Wrapping your body around me, you’re not breathing. I’m still too drunk to make a sense of realisation. 

 

Tremmor. Clutching your sweaty palms. Realisation. Run. “Ret! Wake up. He’s not breathing.” Run. Ret places one hard ‘WACK!’ across your chest. Breath. “Let’s go Bro, time for bed”

 

Climb into my conscious mistake. Have sex with Ret. Wake up 5am. Facing a shitty headache.

 

I don’t feel terrible, should I?

 

I feel ok. Please remember. Don’t remember.

 

“Like you said, nothing happened. Ret’s like a brother to me, and I know you love him, we can’t ruin that.”

 

Please ruin it, my life oh please do.

 

Stop it!

The continuation, the constant sense of waves and confusion. Choices. I hate choices, why can things never be blatantly straight forward? Why is life spitting in the face at one moment then caressing it the next?

 

 

I wish for simplicity, to have good conversations with my mother, tell her of my day, and listen to hers, make her sweet tea and pick her small flowers. I wish to have a better sense of her, how to know her, how to love her, how to make her happy.

 

This angst falls like pebbles in my belly, weighing me down, pressing against my spine, aching, arching, crumbling. I don't want this, I have the need to know that in time there's a reason, that there's a road of crossed paths where we will one day see eye-to-eye. I have the need to know assurance, the bearing of hope it too great for me to tread on my own.

 

 

Tread it with me. 

 

Step into this never ending sense of wander with me, let it burst and bubble at your seams, flinging you into uncertainty, what could be more thrilling? The possibility of loving and then losing, of having but not knowing, and of knowing but never having, is there any other greater sense of abandonment than to know we're never alone, but we're always entirely alone in the same entity, but always knowing.

 

You’re there.