want to start a secret society for the two of us
i want to explain, in depth, purpose, method, goals
to usurp all governments, with you
complete domination seems ideal and impossible
ideas of dominance destroy feelings of life affirmation
cleaning, building, eating; processes
let's move, swiftly, past our close group of friends
overtake them on their career paths
take success by the earlobes and drag it
holding hands, squeezing our ideas together
this is life; this is horrible; there is some vast glory here
something untapped
a neutral love poem
flowers
passion
conversation
dreams
expectations
doubts
texture
fear
fantasies
arguments
fluid
anxiety
silence
fast
slow
void
warmth
tomorrow
passion
conversation
dreams
expectations
doubts
texture
fear
fantasies
arguments
fluid
anxiety
silence
fast
slow
void
warmth
tomorrow
felt sudden anxiety and mild stomach pain when my brain transmitted information that i had 'bypassed' reviewing previous posts on this blog and had opened an empty, ostensibly 'new' post with looming expectancy that i would somehow 'fill' this blank area with something
blogging is dead, i've come to understand mimetically, though not definitively, abstractly, really
i am still alive
i still enjoy cigarettes
i still enjoy 'unhealthy' [though paradoxically, it seems, life-continuing] food
i still care more about fashion than my family
i still don't [apparently] have any life-threatening diseases
i still have a distinct phobia of outdoor places and trees
i still do not know any women who seem 'worth' leaving this place [what some would consider the 'nest'] for
i still have a million projects that would be easy enough to delegate if i had ~$1,000,000, no desire to produce feature length 'hollywood quality' movies, and no student loans
i have no new desires
i keep looking at my phone and wondering when it will ring next though it's 4:33a.m.
i would do things on twitter if this didn't feel like it might become literary at some point
fuuuuck
that felt good to do
i am still alive
i still enjoy cigarettes
i still enjoy 'unhealthy' [though paradoxically, it seems, life-continuing] food
i still care more about fashion than my family
i still don't [apparently] have any life-threatening diseases
i still have a distinct phobia of outdoor places and trees
i still do not know any women who seem 'worth' leaving this place [what some would consider the 'nest'] for
i still have a million projects that would be easy enough to delegate if i had ~$1,000,000, no desire to produce feature length 'hollywood quality' movies, and no student loans
i have no new desires
i keep looking at my phone and wondering when it will ring next though it's 4:33a.m.
i would do things on twitter if this didn't feel like it might become literary at some point
fuuuuck
that felt good to do
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