always, a pretty rush down my spine

2004-08-25, 12:52 a.m.

tonight, did you see this? the moon was hugging the horizon, and it was filled with the colors of streetlights. i watched the moon crashing down below the trees, and i could see the burning embers wrapping around the tree limbs, and glowing through the pitch black foliage. this is where i remember a thousand little voices that used to be me. on the road with no midnight visitors, i sink into the sparking asphalt that grins under the head lights; unable to resist the thoughts any longer, i give in and start over again.

i start over with awkward phrases meant to keep a sterile line between us. i walk over into the bedroom, carpeted and completely protected by a lifetime of memorabilia, white silk and photographice prints carefully framed and placed throughout the room. tarentino would cut to a bathroom scene, a soliloquoy involving the ethics of attraction.

jumping over months, the chance encounter is anything but planned. uncertainty theory places the blame on determinism for having me suspect things will go as i see them, just because the past suggests i am right. dont forget the swerves, and the bumps, jumbling the alphabet of instinct.

im here now, tired and still sweating, too tired to keep eyes open so i type away in the dark; no lights to keep me here tonight. its sort of like letting the air out of your lungs when you are laying at the bottom of a pool. you want to stay down, with the gritty concrete, stainless and unburnt by the harsh sun. you want the consistency of life to stay there even when you have given up that most precious element; strike the match against my heart and watch the black sulfur stretch across veins and muscle. now i am here, just as i am nothing but various forces and the chime of voice without mass.