05/17/21: Fuckin Drug

I write my best poetry right after I’ve eaten alphabet soup. I vomit the unchewed letters on to handmade paper and copy paste.

Most of my art feels like I just sort of throw it up. I don’t stand for any causes and I spend little time consuming pop culture so what’s left is a blank slate. Often in woodworking, the piece tells you what to do with it. Ill start with a circle or triangle or a straight line and then my hands sort of do the rest. The result is pretty puke. Sometimes Ill throw up gang signs like yin yang or some Kanji, but to me it all feels a little corny. I feel like I should spend more time being inspired by things, but the mindlessness of drawing shapes like puzzle pieces, rearranging a broken stained glass window into a sort of collage is more attractive to me than making a plan. “This time you should draw her, with an eyeball on her hand and a snake coming out of her bellybutton trying to bite her, but then the snake’s fangs are flowers and her eyes glow like a lasso’d star and her feet turn to roots which ascend and become those cool patched up pants she wears.” I hope one day my meat body catches up to my imagination and we build a home or some other safe place, for now I’ll just draw shapes.

Hell-bound or heaven-sent

soul-bound or thrift shop spent

do you have a clue?

fuck, I don’t

If you figure it out, will you let me know?

but you can’t right? no one can

I often want a bullet to the brain

not because I want to die, not because this life is so unbearable

it’s cause I’m impatient and I want my answers NOW

no time for introspection, I’ve got bills to pay

and a facebook feed to catch up on

and a million things I’d rather do than reflect on what I did to you

I want to live in my room

the one that I create

the cube

with no floor or ceiling no doors or windows

I’ll find it there, right?

children have it good

I really do think that babies know everything

everything that matters at least

I want a drink of that sweet bliss

the ignorance the lack of shit the ability to live in the moment

Ill come back to you, It’s always been you

just as soon as I figure my way out of this labrynth

this attention fueled jacked up perception my here FAST NOW give it to me QUICK CHEAP EASY

there are too many options my brain might explode

why do everything when I can do nothing?

the alternative is a cocktail of meaningless self loathing

POP POP

shit there goes my balloon

“do you believe in God?”

no but sometimes I’m scared he does exist

bazinga bazinga recycle recycle

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