Category: Secret Religion

-It was a four story building, I was sequestered on the second floor my own decision. I have to die and I’ve chosen the slow path. lighting up my seventh chain smoked cigarette, I got bored. I looked up at the sky wondering, is the view always better from up top? so I went up there. It really wasn’t, a better view, more luxury apartments and condos, behind it, I’m sure the hidden sea. But then a thought occurred to me but I don’t think four stories will kill you. I went back downstairs and lit up another one.

-Each day is getting harder, but then it gets easier for a while; still carrying all that shit from childhood, my hands still wrapped tight around failings; even when I smile I critique it I’ve been told this isn’t healthy, sometimes you just have to let go have fun and enjoy the moment, live I do, perhaps that is the problem I’m not the kind that has one mind sometimes they spend the day yelling the two voices in my head, it reminds me of my parents; childhood the two voices do the same, they ignore me sometimes it drives […]

-Everything grows dark like cataracts the fading of the world like fog everyone disappears and nothing’s left but me, I remain, I am still here I am always here and when I find this out there is no greater devastation it feels like crumbling tears falling with no one left to see that I too feel, I am not as was thought simply the sum of my words there was more to me there was, more to some part of me now gone with the multitudes now empty and hollow and vacant the self the me that remains now, I […]

-I sit in the dearth of night as the silence wails in my ears, the sun rising gently, its rays cascading in their violent thrust against the naked windowpanes. My eye’s squirm in the light’s exposure, armor fallen; solitude has been stolen. Headlamps fade under the sun, store fronts light up with life. My eyelids, heavy, droop, in their struggle against the day’s awareness. We remain, eyes, eyelids and I, ash like fixtures of silence, solitude and struggle; night. My head, heavy, cannot conceive of clarity. My eyes begin to water, reddened by the newborn light. The body must continue, […]

-I want to capture your image in silver grains, wash away the excess, perhaps, expose essence. Hang the image, unframed. Marked by daylight, yet untouched by time, an artifact of exhausted emotion.

-The cigarette ash falls, dancing in the wind; he thinks of the dust, the remnants of many days past; the residue of memory. It gathers in the crevices, in the tiny spaces between finger tip and nail, between the u and i on the keyboard. The ashen layer of what remains, of what has been left behind, what has faded, under the strain of time.

-The thought dances in my head, reflecting silver streaks of moonlight. A giggle and a whisper, accompany the flash of memory. An entire world is constructed of the loose ends of intention. Semblance becomes reality as the strings of sanity, unlace. Eyes closed, there is nothing; when the light crawls in, I dream.

-A quarter century and he’s wasted it, the only experience he’ll have of it but something keeps him from actualizing it. He feels it some days. Days when he feels the waste slowing him down and all he could do is sit quietly and watch it all pass by, Life. His spinal chord falls into an odd curvature his frame slouched on the wooden chair behind the window. He looks through as the light splashes and traces shapes around him. He watches the shapes of bodies passing in front of him without noticing him. He could wait there, in that […]

Close my eyes, blink rapidly, quick succession of images behind my eyelids. Dreams. Streams of goals and wants. Everything I hoped to be. Grasp and take hold firmly… time…then a gasp, after holding on for so long, sore hands and blisters formed; eyes open to the corrugated hand, to find it empty. And I feel, like that. With one swift exhale, my breath is gone. Years pass and I haven’t changed. Feel stifled, stagnant, stilted. Still holding on to everything I’ve picked up, and carry with me. The pain, the sorrow, hurt and scars. You cannot see cause it’s all […]

–Disappear here. Disappear here.The words wail through my mind, echoing in the corners of consciousness. These words, the invocation that keeps the possibility of the magic door,latent but here. These words that fell from a billboard over Sunset, on a sun drenched afternoon. Cascading on a dried canvas in my mind; seldom used. Creating images of asian countries and liminal states of existence. The tiny peephole to the fantasies of escape. The frustrated wanderings of mind, seeking escapism; to disappear. Seeking that door, the peephole’s whole, the one through which one can walk, leaving behind the self that manifests here; […]