Archive for 2012

today i studied myself,
as best as i could.

i took out my camera
(canon),
prepped and
from chest to head
took three front headshots
(one of me looking up, looking straight, looking down),
took three left-profile headshots
(one of me looking up, looking straight, looking down),
took three right-profile headshots
(one of me looking up, looking straight, looking down),
took three back headshots
(one of me looking up, looking straight, looking down),

and stepping back
from toes to head
took three front full body shots
(one of me looking up, looking straight, looking down),
took three left-profile full body shots
(one of me looking up, looking straight, looking down),
took three right-profile full body shots
(one of me looking up, looking straight, looking down),
took three back full body shots
(one of me looking up, looking straight, looking down),

and concluding it
took pictures of the in-betweens
(the facing ninety degrees right front close-up shots and more).

it’s more than i care to write about,
but still,
when unloading the pictures onto my computer
i realized in those forty-eight shots
that my work wasn’t done.

the food’s been tampered with,
so i no longer eat.

the water’s tainted,
so i no longer drink.

the dream’s corrupted,
so i no longer sleep.

my days consist of
self-inflicted malnourishment
and sleep-deprivation.

… sometimes being this awake maims.

the girls with bodies-to-die-for said intelligence is overrated.
the girls with ivy-league-smarts said looks don’t last.

the girls with time said money is what it’s all about.
the girls with money said time was precious,
and they wish they had more of it.

they all, repeat all, said something.
none said they were content.

the human condition:
to want.

the boy who lives
the girl who lives
common truths

the boy who died
the girl who died
common truths

the boy who lives
the girl who lives
common falses

the man who lives
the woman who lives
common falses

the man who dies
the woman who dies
common truths

the boy who died
the girl who died
common truths

the man who died
the woman who died
common truths

miss tramp stamp had food stamps, mood stamps. (for her hunger cramps.)

miss tramp stamp slept under street lamps.

life’s a war camp, whore camp, for miss tramp stamp.

who
what
when
where
why
is I?

who
what
when
where
why
is Love?

who
what
when
where
why
is You?

how can the heaven’s permit us to say

I
Love
You

without knowing the words?

Every night I sleep in heat as if I’ve gone back into the womb. Nothing hurts, and everything feels good.

But every day, I am born again, and I exit the womb crying, feeling the coldness and the pain that comes with it; the pain of life, the pain of reality. And yet I know I must feel this pain. For I must live. For staying in the womb is not life, it’s avoidance.

Staying in the womb for want of not being hurt, of not losing joy, or of not growing up hard, without laughter, and without love, is very tempting. And yet every day, despite all that, I leave, for the gelid reality.

And every night I do it backwards; I go back to the place where all my dreams are true – my mind, my womb. Back to the place with infinite warmth, comfort, and food. All attained without ever having to lift a finger, the ultimate vacation.

All renounced in the morning, for a world which hates, which pummels, and which freezes to death. Freezes with it’s unkindness, it’s shunning, and it’s underlying cruelty. All forms of unhurried torture that make one forget the warmth of the womb too soon. Yet all making you remember it the more, for yearning of it. The only thing holding you together being the realization that hypothermic is not something you want to be.

The only thing holding you together being the daily routine; walking forward towards the cold, doing it backwards to the warmth, doing it again tomorrow, and through it all desperately hoping that the temperature change doesn’t break you.