.
                    a                  a                a
                        n             n             n
                           u          u          u
                                   s   s    s
                 a   n    u     s  @   a    n  u    s              
                                   a    a    n
                               n        n        u
                            u           u            s
                        s                s                a

Sitting in a pool of ****,
other peoples ****,
**** all over me,
I am nothing,
just an object,
a still life subject
art school joke,
I'm a mess,
a **** stain,
a fugitive on the run,
running away from life.

The young cling to their mothers
like we cling to each other
set me on fire
I want to see you bitter,
you don't want to lose her

you have a way that craves things
but never fights
and anything that comes close enough
you close your eyes and run from
before the next one

if I had just let go
it would have been easier
but I want to know
what makes you break into pieces
maybe you lost the lottery this time

and love is so inventive
giving me feelings I didn't know existed
casual, she says
as she locks her fingers around his wrist
maybe it's the love you missed

and out of her eyes comes a fog
that you will have to drive through
to get to her
so you go, headlights on,
to search forever

Feel the power and the force of nature.
Hear the waves crash and vibrate, churning up seaweed and debris
Taste the salty foam as you take a tumble from your surfboard.
Isn't it magical to soak up all of these senses, breathing in the crisp, comforting scent of the ocean air.

11 o'clock on a Friday evening
I walked through closed doors
Into the rustic old bar
I sat in the faded bar stool that creaked like the floorboards
on the stained seat cushion molded to fit my *** like a glove
From the regular nights

The bartender walked by twitching his mustache, cleaning an old mug
I slapped my hand on the tarnished bar
He nodded, filling a patchwork glass with the same old beer
That swished frothily in my mouth with the taste
Of old gym socks and dog ****

I stared into the mirror reflection  before me
Examining people while sipping my taint of a beer
The waitress reciting play lines devotedly between  orders
Still trying to get into her new life on Broadway
Stuffing tips in her mismanaged pockets
that wanted a college degree, but chose fancy clothes

A lawyer and a teacher in the corner of the room
No one likes drinking alone  
Sitting in a battered, splattered seat booth
Lamenting about their dreaded work
Wishing in their heart of hearts
That the paths they had chosen at 19 were switched
One found he loved kids and one loved the justice system
If only it were simple to swap uniforms and degrees

Two destitute prostitutes lingering, smoking wispy cigs outside
Waiting for work
One wanted to be a dentist
Till the ****** that protected her dreams broke
And she lost her baby regardless
And the other wanted to be a politician
Until her dreams were beaten down by
A man, a level below Neanderthal, who viewed her body
As a conversation where his fists do the talking

The bartender stalled at the TV between drinks
Observing the young sports analyst on the TV
In a crisp, tailored suit with slick black hair
Nostalgically imagining himself talking emphatically about his passion
Mouthing the comments of what the analyst should've been saying
But he served drinks filled with faded dreams

And I turned and saw myself in the glossy mirror
Holding the poor excuse for a drink to my lips
And I saw the people around me like spirits in my eyes
I worked 9-5 in an office that’s as fun as feet being nailed to the ground
The only thing I changed in my routine whether I did my
Laundry on a Friday or Saturday
And I twitched my hand to ask for a different drink
But I kept it down and sipped on my beer

It is in my blood
I can feel its presence
When it’s on the verge
To emit a surge, every time my heart beats

An impulse,
Scurrying it’s way through the crevasses of my brain.
Tainting the walls of grey matter with a tendency for unpredictability,
Out of my reach.

I hate it
I don’t want it
I never asked for this

I can’t slow my mind down
Thoughts so fast, hit me with whiplash
It’s insanity.

No.

I’m not insane
I can’t be
I’m rationale

I think about how I think about things,
Like it’s a cycle that never stops..

Which I guess could be my downfall
My vision says it all
When thoughts travel my mind
In dark tunnels at times
My eyes blind to the surroundings

Tunnel vision that make you claustrophobic;
You feel trapped
When all you see at the end of the tunnel,
Is the darkness of insanity

But..
I’m rationale

I acknowledge I have a tendency to be blind to my surroundings,
How can I be blind if I can clearly see?
Is life objective or subjective?
I just want to understand--

You're stupid —
What was that?
Felt like a surge, on the attack
An impulse

That voice
That’s it.

Unpredictability

That lies,
In my brain waiting to be brought to the surface
With the surge of an impulse.
It’s the insanity that taints me,
From seeing what really is

I’m not stupid, I’m a learner.

Granted with the gift of analysis,
But darkened by the cruel nature of impulse
To taint my minds innocence

I'm not scared to think about it anymore

I am insane, because it’s what you make of it.
Insanity grants me with the gift of perspective,
Throwing a million different ones my way
Ones that are positive and ones that are new
Traveling at hundreds of miles
And this even includes

All the negative perspectives as well

At the times when I don’t want to hear them.

Insanity must be embraced and never repressed.
Repression tells you no don’t do that, it’s wrong.
When insanity isn’t embraced, it is feared.
When something that’s inevitable is feared
You’re no longer insane,

**You’ve completely lost it.