Psychosexual

& some questions & a relevant diary entry

— I’m a big man! A scary man, I’ll have you know. You should stay away too.

Ya okay, man. One step toward getting it right with all this psychosexual shit, sure. Continue to lose myself, but as I do this, something else also is gained. I’m at the bend; a wonderful bend where you can see everything through the clouds, on the vista, the beating heart of the sublime — beauty in a sudden & extravagent decline. In this moment there is a nothing so powerful it makes even the strongest men & women weep, but it is a silence, so there exists no yelp which will convey accurately the experience; it hasn’t been invented.

Lower yourself down onto the fantasy all edge-like, narrowing the expanse. You want to break the vastness of your solitude, but it’s the thing bringing us all together in the first place. Be wary of becoming a dark thing in a lighted place. There’s a wound in his side, and she has her fingers wrapped around his rib.

I never know how I find myself in the desert. But I’m there. The body is covered in freshly dried mud; must have been somewhere damp before? But I can never remember, there’s only ever this current slipstream. I am cold. I am cold and shivering in the desert. The sun is obscured, but there are no clouds. In the distance I see: lightening storm & wind kicking sand.

(The body has no bearing on any of this)

There are two phantom ships in the desert. One of them is bare metal & rusted. There are holes in its side; it is feeble, and it is weak. The other is covered in primordial flowers that have never bloomed…

I once created an entity who speaks with their hands, but now I am blind

& no one can really see how dressed I am for the fever of the day.

The Ideal: what street are we walking? The mirror is not broken.

Daily the mindstrays; terrifying, warm. Breaking now.

learned of love at the lowest hidden crevices made to wander through one or two moments of greatness. I can’t begin. Got nothing to do with this great rodeo moonlight; all mindfuck & no pretend. And you are, or might be, drowning in this fantasy. A secret with the tree & the heart explodes. All the world come to a cross; smoking, smoking the right-of-mind, like, yes. Bitter cup of the Something washing out my mouth.

I swing over & over. Today and always I am a passenger.

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Some Questions:

1. Do you know the difference?

2. Is the sun censored; does it burn?

3. Are those who smile walking in your direction?

4. Does urine smell like gasoline?

5. Are you unable to focus on the present because of the past or because of the future?

6. Have you experienced anything similar to happiness?

7. Do you speak a language which only you can understand?

8. Have you revealed your secret to a corpse?

9. Given the chance, would you take it?

10. On a Tuesday, do you walk the length of the Mississippi?

Please answer these.

If a woman approaches you on the street with these questions and you wish your love to remain a frigid kind of love, try your best to not look her in the eyes. Okay?

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Diary Entry from 09/11/2024

Wake up Wake up. Sky’s gradient & the colors after. It’s not enough to sit idle anymore. & the days flying away. & the sun off the coast. There are memories burned into those rocks. No longer jagged— just following the rules. The snakes in the garden brought comfort with them. Trying to be universal here… You missed the joy winter & now you’re unreal too. Ease up on the confusion, would you? Throw on the work clothes at 6am and don’t complain. Bleed a little on Tuesday. And be happy about all of this. Because the love is still there laugh at the right parts. You’re the whisper I waited for when the moon was full and yellow or was it the illusion still? All it’ll cost is my head. All wrapped in the blanket of your desire unburdened. Give it all over to me. If you want. I get the attention I deserve and I’m all used and torn and that’s what you enjoyed. Bathroom tiles naked and asleep. The water got cold. Thank you. The slick stuff. Drips unforgotten. Between this between that. Get over yourself. This basement’s not for you anymore. Don’t try to uinderstand or fabricate. You’re master under the unreal? Ha!