The car was relatively dark,
besides the dim green illumination
bouncing off the dash.
It reminded him of his mind,
he thought as he spark-ed
a cigarette that he knew
would **** him one day.
There's always been that
dim green illumination
in his head, no matter -
how bad things ever got.
He always remains hopeful
thinking there must be something more
to it all.
He just hopes he can maintain
his optimism.

Cigarette smoke sits, silently;
looming like a cancerous cloud,
caressing each & every corner
of this rather rainy region (room).
Sitting, slightly, similarly -
I sip my creamless coffee,
contemplating consciousness
and similar such subjects.
We sit dissipating in the darkness,
my thousand thoughts & I;
so strange and always astonishing.
Blinding sights & bizarre sounds
go seen and heard -
but never reasonably recorded.
There's constant communication -
but an inability to grasp
and produce the words -
- that feel right.
So, I sit - so habitually -
searching for signals
in the chalky coffee beans below
the last liquid drips of my mug.

But alas -
it's all been bookmarked before:
in the scribblers of scribes,
struggling with the serveral
aspects of their lives.

Two joints & a ball point
pen lie within my jean pockets.
The herbs are a sort of ointment
to these squeaky sprockets
within my mind.
Suddenly, my head begins to shake
& it's hard for me to stand up straight.
I need to get away from this place,
away from these people -
for a moment.

Ninety-two seven;
the smooth jazz I find
myself, blissfully, hearing
is absolute heaven
in my mind.
A vibrant dream wonderland
is nearing.
I hope you can understand
if I don't get back to you.

To me,
prosperity seems improbable
in this frail and fleeting life.
How does one plan for a long future;
with hobbies like cashing **** bowls
& feeling the torque and thunder -
of a sports bike between the lower limbs?
Eventually we all end up six feet under
or burnt to fine ashes -
whatever it is you'd like.

As the smoke rises
I find myself falling -
into a deep depression.
Smoking hurts me..
which hurts her -
which hurts me.
Feeling this way is
less than she deserves...

I feel like dirt.

sigh

I wonder if she will resent me
for dying before her?

He writes while lighting a cigarette..