Dreary, weary, scary jingles drop inside wells
Depth, fearful, shivers as you splatter with a whisper
Love, oh lover!, in your light there is a mischief
My sight, my fright, unbending as darkness seraphic

See you not the whimpering puppy as you pass the old man with a red-stoned eye?
Why, oh heart!, doth thou quake so helpless?
Green, blue, yellow, orange, and cyan
But where is the streak that screams unto dawn?

Honey, oh sweet darling, I am just what the valley-drives unveiled,
Tense with your presence and silly at my expense
But the air is bleak as the furniture swells with rain,
And my veins are aching with that interference insane.

In my darkness there is indifference, your misery, your confusion
How can I but expel unholy propulsion
If my muslin doesn’t tear,
And your vanity doesn’t swear?

Listening to water whiz in the dark confines of of my wet, wet bathroom
I breathe in the walls
When a distant ring of laughter reminds me darkness is frightening
And I rush to the reassuring switchboard
Realizing my presence

People look wonderful through their voice and glance
Stepping out of airports and recognizing faces
I sit looking until I recognize a cleaner who lent me lights for my smokes
And leave, realizing my presence

I cut my nails until the pink skin underneath shows
It looks so infantile, and when I type at my keyboard again
or try to break a bottle seal, it is a strange pain
Which stays briefly, because too much takes me inside
and I realize my presence

The ground outside give places a new feeling
Heels just elevate me
I walk bare in the foot among strangers and creatures
Until intrusive gazes realize my presence in reality

My bedroom can be a lot of different people
But when I move the desk toward the right and the lamp to the floor
I see myself in a different background
And remember that change is a scary anxious unsettling gnome
And I put the lamp back next to the sofa

I also read till coffee just spills and stains
And I know how much I love to make-believe with curious designs in font size 10
So I turn the book up and around, and try make-believing
It scares me, so I sleep with four of them  under my pillow

more…

Senseless silences of dark seclusion

No threat or treat

You’re all sleeping like blue parrots

From Wikipedia:

Testify, testimony and the Bible testaments are said to have linguistically originated from the Roman practice of holding one’s testicles when giving evidence. In the Bible Abraham demands his servant hold Abraham’s testicles when swearing by the Lord. “… put your hand under my thigh, and I will make you swear by the Lord ….” This means “put your hand under my testicles,” which is the manner in which oaths were taken at the time. “Testament,” “testify,” and “testicle” have the same root. The New Oxford American Dictionary etymologists are said to insist that the origin of ‘testify’ is the Latin testificari or testis which means witness. Testicles are said to be a witness to a man’s virility.

…goes to the “going John Galt” trend.

Felicitation ceremony speech follows shortly.

Slow down, you crazy child
you’re so ambitious for a juvenile
But then if you’re so smart, tell me
Why are you still so afraid?

Where’s the fire, what’s the hurry about?
You’d better cool it off before you burn it out
You’ve got so much to do and
Only so many hours in a day

But you know that when the truth is told..
That you can get what you want or you get old
You’re gonna kick off before you even
Get halfway through
When will you realize, Vienna waits for you?

Slow down, you’re doing fine
You can’t be everything you want to be
Before your time
Although it’s so romantic on the borderline tonight
Tonight…
Too bad but it’s the life you lead
you’re so ahead of yourself that you forgot what you need
Though you can see when you’re wrong, you know
You can’t always see when you’re right. you’re right

You’ve got your passion, you’ve got your pride
but don’t you know that only fools are satisfied?
Dream on, but don’t imagine they’ll all come true
When will you realize, Vienna waits for you?

Slow down, you crazy child
and take the phone off the hook and disappear for awhile
it’s all right, you can afford to lose a day or two
When will you realize… Vienna waits for you?
And you know that when the truth is told
that you can get what you want or you can just get old
You’re gonna kick off before you even get half through
Why don’t you realize, Vienna waits for you
When will you realize, Vienna waits for you?

Enough of hearing it’s worth it all. What is? Worth what? I’m still alive. But am I? With all due respect, fuck Darwin. Fuck Rand. Fuck Evolution. Fuck life qua life. Fuck. Yes.

I’m not here to serve the grand purpose of survival of the species. I’m not here to serve a bunch of chemicals. I’m here because for years, I liked being here. It was really all wonderful. All the grand working and mechanisms and creations. All the isolated hours reading, reading, reading, reading, reading, to no end. It used to be really nice. That was worth it.

What, now? Now, I’m a hag. I can still write if I want to. I can read too. I can make all those crazy theories too. But it’s automatic. It’s not wonderful. It’s clinging on to the wonderfulness that’s supposed to be there.

Right, I’m just in pain. Yes, I am. Too much pain. So much that I laugh hysterically when I’m crying. So much that it’s a circus. So much that I dreamt of having a lot of sex and a false awakening going into the bathroom masturbating, waking up to see it was all in my fucking head. Heck, I can’t even get myself wet now.

From this wonderland, I’m in a dirty lewd world. I can’t love, no. I’m a desperate lonely bitter wreck who can’t do anything. I can’t move on. Where the fuck to? A dazzling career as a controversial writer? A corporate that sells revolutionary machine? A laboratory that is just sustaining but containing formulae that can make or break? What for? I can write about 5 novels that will sell right now. I can go on to be as successful a businesswoman there ever was. All that is just childhood. That’s what I wanted. What do I want now? I don’t know. I could start with revenge.

more…

Mad man with hair long, he is an archer without target
Victory; rejoice vanquishing rare game!
The fallen arrows unnoticed

My darling, life was carnal and inviting with those
Careless quests of great measure
Fondling my breast and cramming me into
A world never mine, as if always mine

Broken rum-stained bottles forcing down my throat
Words dispensable as the sense arose
Of senseless beautiful forebodings
Like zero gravity on a giant circus wheel

You could hear me out of the frame
but you heard me inside it
My bleeding throat wanting to reject, eject
And swallow no more

There is a photograph indistinguishable from the perceptions
of songs we saw, I in your arms
The day followed convalescence of a soul
Yes, was there not joy and scorn and desire in every

word that I snapped
eye that I rolled
hurt that I caused
kiss that I bruised

Today, the photograph serves me no more than love letters written to my mother
Lesser, in wistfulness
A beautiful night, and several unsurpassable in between
Are a chapter in history
When wanton excerpts asphyxiate in the politically correct
To be read like a mortal compulsion with every academic dissection

more…

That’s where it leads to - all the beautification, all the class, all the eye-candy - an end that can never come… a reality that can never justify the abstraction.

It will sink all the charm of thoughts and all the magic of anticipation into a mediocrity that won’t dare be acknowledged for its worth.

In the garden where my life begets its seasons and fruits will I sit watching the Sun drown, to light another world and forget mine without care.

There will remain the moon, still casting its cold shadow upon the trees that are withering and soil that is damping.

It is a lonely life amidst green that will never show and ugliness that has taken hold.

The sky is never brilliant; like the deadness of my world it exists without going further.

more…

Present: Interrupting the Chemistry coursebook after a mere two pages of reading because of more arresting thoughts.

Entry: Happiness can not be held as the absolute moral standard. There are people who are never happy, are always dull or bored, but they do what they want to do, what they think is best for them, without as much as making another person frown. Those people aren’t bad, are they? They could easily do whatever is needed of a man to qualify as the hypothetical ideal man. They’re just a different personality - a personality of being a very innocently snobbish kinda people. Which is what your exes, who seem so goddamn perfect in all respects but still don’t know how to be awed out of their heart chambers at the sight of a greatness or drowned in their blood in the face of worldwide sacrilege. They just a little limp, that’s all. But they can still account for duller varieties of the “Morally 10″. And then there are those who can never think anything perfect, not even their sweet little unfailing angry frown. We nick them ‘Managers’ in our Homo dominated world. So there, they are not happy, or doing only that what brings them happiness. Why should they be blackmarked by that morally inked pen? And this isn’t a negative response to human evolution. This just makes the gene pool wider, much like that is in most other species save humans. How this serves evolution is simple. Dull snob girl marries dull snob guy. Dull snob girl’s dull snob girlfriend marries dull snob guy’s dull snob boyfriend. They have a lot of dull snob children who marry each other. The Managers do the same. There are a few exponentially increasing cross-marriages which the Managers and their “brothers” the dull snob ones don’t mind. The dulls snob ones eventually start avoiding the Managers, except when pressing. Internationally, there were the Stuffy Garrulous millionaire wives, the the Slapstick Charmers, the Unhygienic Rockstars, the Overwhelming Poets, the Hypochondriac Heirs among another twenty score human classes. They then start missing their brothers on purpose, and eventually, because of their similar interests and inclinations, evolve into a races, and slowly sub-species of humans with features specializing in serving those interests and inclinations. Give it another few thousand years, and they’ll start calling each other DNA relatives. Another era, and we evolved several brand new species from the parent species homo sapiens sapiens.
Obviously, is the happy personality quotient is a very important factor in getting laid and spreading your kind, but evolution is still the most likely God of Spreading too.

Stoners = happiness seeking = morally ideal acc to objectivists. reward pathway activates, therefore what gives them happiness obviously comes first in their actions. Another dooming argument.

Disclaimer: I do not vouch for the correctness of any words or their clusters above. Write to Ma Mary.