Saturday, May 12, 2012

Letting The Thoughts Roll Out From My Fingers

Funkadelic. Feelin' it? I saw a green t-shirt walking to the mall the other day, and no, I'm not in outer space. Either that rhymed with my previous statement or with the song I'm listening to. Let's feel the beat. Scratched your record? It's okay. Cotton can take care of everything. I'm not sure where I'm headed. It's really up to him, although I'm not sure the clouds have formed yet into the billows and stratus waves they make. This is freedom. Believe me. See? I wonder where color came from. Not where it comes from. We have light and science to tell us where it comes from. But where it came from...I don't know. When the universe boomed, did it explode color before matter? I think the sea is truer than the land. What are you doing with your life? It's important to know. And more blissful not to know. But did I crash? Was I only an accident in the bond of someone else's rings? Please bear with my naked body. I only want to feel the air against me. Can you fall if you're speeding through the doorway? Do we not crash every time we drive our car into another atom floating through the air? Yes, we have all murdered atoms. Without a boom, without a bomb, without a blanket of white and grey ash. Who then are the murderers? I am not Susan Elizabeth Willis. Susan Elizabeth Willis is a name, a jumble of letters to which we assign sounds and meaning and hell, I'm none of those. I am stardust. Am I? Creeping gently the sun came over the planets. They never asked to be bathed, but their presence must have emitted some question. Why did we ever factor ourselves into the world? Are we so particularly here? CD ourself into the train tracks. Lock it away. Hide and seek. But I'm so hungry. For what, no, not here or there or food or knowledge, but all of those things intertwined into an abyss, a beautiful, giant, gaping hole of life. Do not let them judge you. You are perfect in your flaws. It is only those without flaw who are alien. Tears tend to drop in the most awkward places, never so smoothly as we hope. Do you hope? I have ten thousand legions of thoughts ready to fight for me. And still I need someone to carry my weak body through the field. Don't let me go, I say. But they drop me. Where must we go to find redemption? Why should we? It's not so important, I tell you. Not nearly half the galaxy can comprise what exists in your body. A soul. Is it there in you? I feel it for you. Please stay in my arms. I'm begging you. Two fabrics tangled together cannot be meshed. They will always be two fabrics, tangled together. That gives me no comfort, but it does soothe my question. How will we survive when the gods of our time are gone? When our faith shatters from the roofs of conquered edifices? Read to me your mind. Let it ramble out like a turtle flies as fast as he can and no one admires his skills except his kin, his own species. We must unite ourselves. Touch me. Can you? We're separated by two screens and a lifetime. How do we halter time? I wish I could. But it would leave no surprises. Is this what he did, my friend? Did he sit down and explore his mind without reserve? It is dangerous. It is so vulnerable. Bravo, my friend. No one can commend you like the stars do. They shine for you, yes, that is their mission, their pleasure, their command, their grace. They absorb all matter into their one explosion of red and yellow and green and blue and orange and why can I not type the spectrum? I am so limited in my head. Should I ask the gatekeeper to leave his post? Enter into your home. And as soon, leave it and explore. That is my observation of our race. What did you ask? If nothing, begin my entertainment with your own. If I am overbearing, forgive me. I only love you.

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