desire for A.LL.

I don’t believe in secrets she said softly,

and I believed her,

a long time a go a friend was lost to me,

a long time ago a friend of mine took away my passion for possession-

yes yes, the lesson is learned you really can never possess anything,

but in that parallax there lies the constant of the opposite and mere real possibility of its occurance.

-my memory isn’t what it used to be and the only exercise to help me is putting their faces with their names, and it isn’t reasonable not to remember all their names. Video taping them all or photographing them would help but my memory isn’t what it used to be, it’s a matter of desire.

They were all nameless to me- all except for a few and they were the ones that forgot my name.

shallow thoughts

 Too much of the bad and the not so pretty can make you prefer the beautiful.

sometimes the best thing about getting burned is never letting it happen again- amongst turmoil one always feels engulfed within its waves cresting upon us- and the rapid recycled energy has a way of-

being repetitive, but in the end an intrigue for the new and the unknown is the catalyst for diminishing a bad memory.


graffiti of thoughts-

and so it began

so it was fated to end

with each step of the beginning

ok- forward,

a love of fate.

Kissing made me lose myself,

gone and never wanting to come back- to being alone. Sadness can be overcoming me, overcoming the circumstances and compounding our separation, lost when will we be together. You died the day you were overcome with doubt and its all the illusion that was built as your memory fades to Grey and then to black. Dust in space, and the currents are walking us along.

the good guy-

-your so far away

It was a time that can not be taken back a time that stands still in our lives the time when we were together is the time that we loved one another. I am filled with inspiration from the rancor of emotions you leave me feeling. There is no other ecstasy than the thought of your being. If one could be hurt from your memory it is only the loss of the greatest feeling one can have for someone, that debilitating electricity that stimulates an awkward pleasure.