nice quiet at night like this. I’m putting in the ink work strong awake and clear. clear as it can be. vent. ventilation. I say it’s nice, but it’s pretty neutral, and I’m not in such a great mood. hard day I guess. just passing the time, doing what I can, but also feeling it’s really not enough.
I can hear the ringing in my ears. I get up and open the window, this Virginia air. I owe it to myself to do some more reading. crickets.
the steal after about the 20th rep starts to slip in my sweaty hand. 30 reps at a time. I’m increasing it over time.
a bug crawls across the carpet, letting him do his thing. I’m not to blame for him being here, it’s Summer, so give these creatures a chance. in WV I tried to stop this little 4 year old boy from stepping on ants. I thought I should be careful ’cause they could accuse me for trying to raise their kid. I hate connections like that. you wanna correct a kid connected to his parent. you wanna correct your boss but he’s your income. you wanna speak truthfully but you’re so plugged into your fear.
that unsettled, life on hold feeling. I have to make the best of that. I watched an Eminem documentary. I have mixed feelings about him, but definitely like the way he rhymes, his choice of word flow. the rest is a big politic to me – I look first at artistic form and try to draw inspiration from it. if I can, I hold onto it. hell, if I thought Screwdriver were any good musically, I’d hold onto that too.
I feel free to say what I want, and so should everyone else.
I’m coming from a similar frustrated platform, but shooting probably a little higher. it’s hard to say. it’s crazy, because sometimes I don’t know what I think. I don’t want to fake that part of myself either. I don’t know why I should be ashamed about anything. I do some stupid stuff, like a lot of people. I don’t waste my money so much on pop culture, but sometimes I’m there downloading it. it’s a part of my history. I’ve listened to some radio songs and have been a little silly, danced around the room. sometimes while doing dishes I’ll make up songs about that cat and badger my wife with some absurd chorus. it’s worn on her. now she does the same to me. it’s contagious. we cook and clean together and cook some more. I juice some carrots to keep my mind occupied. sometimes I just sit in the middle of the floor and don’t do a damn thing.
you manipulate with words that you forget and don’t hold to. my just argument, my case, goes in your right ear and out the left. there is no justice with you. I am a lonely young man for it. you don’t understand? do you understand English any more? no, you’re speaking something else. you’re living out this curse upon me. my fight against the curse, for as long as I’m alive, only makes me stronger.
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