its getting weird

Maybe I am bitter about China. Or just bitter about what I did and did not do and I blame it on China. Thats possible. I sway like wheat in the winds of perspective, words fly off like floating chaff. All seeds take plant and have as much right to live as any other. The first poem to affect me resolved: "I contradict myself? Very well then. I contradict myself."

And resignation is my greatest defense when my life is put into question. Kids broke into my house again and spray painted the walls. The landlord's wife wants more money. My roommate is looking for a way out where his wallet remains fat. When all i want is a cave with a fire, people ... those clingy, social creatures, cling and socialize and i find i need them. I feel ready to dissipate into dandelion fluff and float until i starve to death or land on a fertile patch of mud, or the back of a wandering dog. i sympathize with madness, shrink away from cowardly retreat into oneself. I want to wear sackcloth and wipe ashes on my head, i want to have flowers spring up where i walk.

Resignation is my cozy alcove when brainwaves collide in some gray wrinkle. I grabbed an Italian girl's arm and squeezed till she winced. She said, "its getting weird" and walked away, conspicuously ignoring me as i stood nearby. Another line that affect me, "Dream on, dreamer, life gets in your way."

I am alone in a sea of family. Contradictory dreams send us wavering past each other in unfulfilled quests, never-ending stories, frayed lines dangling.

I love this forum where i can type it all out anytime i want. I despise this forum: public nudity demanding polite praise.

I am disappeared, but in contact with whomever reads -- its a trip into semi-darkness with a safety line. But i know its deep sea silence that i seek. Cowardice ... saying the word with a hiss at the end is like casting a spell. Watch where you aim it.