Through a door pass the relics on the shelves and approach a table. A meeting void of various ways to say goodbye, your not evanescent like a leaf in autumn. If you ever should depart, write your name under a picture you draw. A memory you drew and a name to call it. Silhouettes that sit after removing skin like clothes, leaving imprints in the cushion of a chair. Seated around figures of intimate lovers. How happy I would be with my love in a wax statue. breathing slowly with hearts never to part it could be true love. I feel sad but today holds meaning if I can hold onto hope. Saying words to move your heart like a ship on the sea. Pulling words together to form psychological meaning. Moving within premonitions and hypothesis I know something exists between us more than air and space. I live in an abstract world outside your glass windows. The wall erodes in bits and a key is turning inside the door. A turtle teaches me patience. An owl preaches knowledge and a silent tongue. A prayer for it to fit together and float in my hands. I've changed but I want to be remembered always as who you first met and knew. Its just that before changing was an option, yet adaptability became mandatory as age brought responsibilities. Somehow I have to live this dream. I'm jealous when I see my instructors speaking so fluently of their academic knowledge. I want to experience the same satisfaction and joy. There’s a soft boom boom sound inside my chest. I think its some kind of Morse code. I wrote of a person I want to be, and sometimes a life that should never exist. The neuron camera in my limbic system written on electric paper. My existence becomes a Playing Photo.
"Dispositional Attribution"
I can't put the words together so if it doesn't make sense just act as if it you're going along with it. Beating around the bush a game we all can do. The litter box smells of dry urine as I stretch out on the floor. The air freshener can not fall here. How does your perception see me? No not today I don't wanna hear of any heroes or martial artists. Your displeased attitude won't make me feel bad. Grant me peace and let me walk astray. A cat who sometimes forgets he has a home except when its time to eat. I made a mess, he slaps my paws, afterwards I feel disgraced. I watched the history channel and learned my lesson yet, this cycle continues. In an orb placed in his hand does he know what face I'm making? Spin round, round, round, round, round now look through this slide projector. Is it what my eyes love to see? I don't believe it is.
"Displacement"
His words spoken in a musical note, a lead and bass of a pulled string and drum beating like a heart. We write differently yet perceive it similarly. Tales of his life as he speaks I think of him as my mentor. They are satisfying morsels. It's fun to be there. It's only for me, the stage is filled equipment. I'm here preparing for the destined night the world would never notice. Spinning like a beyblade ripping the wind through my clothes as if it was paper. Press forth there’s something here I must have. Stretch on in the middle of this there is peace. Today what will I need to hear most? Repeating words like a spell I want to be were they are. I would like to visit Jupiter so free and limitless. It would all come together like scattered Lego pieces. The image is like this right here but what I put my hands to comes out differently. Yearning, frustration, optimistic, happiness such feelings are common household items. Do you ever feel like you say crazy more than spoon? If someone was above me I would ask them to take pictures of me swaying in and out of the tree's shade. I scream loudly like I'm a lost child, I would like to sing as good as he. I give my adrenaline, stressed muscles, and deflated lungs I want to give my best. All this energy and conviction its burning me. I want to get rid of it all and hear my inner voice say "thanks for your hard work today was productive". The concert played on like an oasis stranded in my front lawn. Evaporating as it simmered in a dying sun nothing reaches my hand. It stood still transparent there stretching its hand to me, as my voice grew smaller. A fantasy I created to escape myself today. There's a day like this every so often and I'm mistakenly becoming ignorant of something important. Or rather something that’s losing its use and adjusting to an undesirable lifestyle. Tonight I should pray for a better future if not I could lose everything.
"I heard an Airplane flying"
I sleep on the same bed as my friend. At the foot I sleep facing the edge, while he sleeps at the head. It is our world. My cat rests in a hole, he comes out for food and water then returns. Rarely outside in summer, I think he wants to be a turtle. A church built of limestone in a Romanesque structure smells of ivory. An agnostic sinned in a Christian bath. Women become passive when men deliver white roses to their front doors. People line up at wishing ponds with their quarters. The bank sends a debt collector at night to the ponds to gather it all. To me history is written by the observers, victorious, and story tellers, and a museum is a large textbook with interactive features. If you walk slowly to a set destination you will find creative words to say. I said once to my friend "I should abandon my temporary life here and move west. I’ve become disenchanted lying in this position. Because things have shifted the empty space is filled with desire. I heard rumors of men dancing on the lakes with their lady friends in ruby glass shoes. Oh I want a pair, I'll keep'em clean and shiny. We should go together and leave this place. I'd find a woman named Julia or something like that and when we get married you will be the best man." Jokingly he replied, "so is Julia the girl you talk about when your sleeping, you think she lives in the west? Maybe tomorrow we can start packing up. A handful of quarters won't get you a hundred dollars, but lets see how far it can stretch." As the day flows on mermaids fish for lost sailors drifting from sunken ships. A seductive fragrance at first glance means the end of his days. If she smells of lavender she could be his lover. So we save up money and take a plane to cross the wide distance we couldn't walk. The workers are building a bridge to connect the islands. Before we land I wanna say "can you see me all the way up here?" I feel like I've done something important. In the air everything looks smaller and wider, on the ground the scenery is drenched with colors. I could trying living here, slowly integrating because I making a good change.
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