Post christmas

Somehow, you never get what you really want.

In the past, I'd go into an anti-materialist rant, but I'd feel hypocritical if I did it today. Not because I found happiness in what I got, but because I took what I got with the normal, content smile. Maybe I was happy for a minute there.

Then again, I'm glad I got something. Glad I don't have nothing. Lucky kid, I am.

Lucky for no good reason.

That buzz you hear is a million little fires

Fortune 500 conglomorates.
Building caverns in the ground for expanses combustable liquides.
Monotone, but everyone's quiet.
'cuz they got the money that we all want.

A nice donation here.
A kind word there.
Pictures for their brochures.
Public relation cloud #9.

Just go along.
Wear you're nicest shirt and khakis.
Pretend you belong.
Before you come to your senses.

Try not to worry about it too much.
There's no way that they're happy.
They can build caverns for oil.
But not happiness.

hi-atus

Once upon a time, I thought I was past this. I was done, never to return. A symbol of my teenage past. Heirlooms, like all the bullshit in my room back home from high school, on a shelf gathering dust. Revisit when I'm 40 and in the midst of a nasty mid life crisis.

I'm back again for some reason.

Typing stuff that's nonsensical.

Annoyed at the priorities at hand. Running from the truth. That sort of thing. Again.

Whatever.

Meaning.

What is it that I mean again? Alone, my own definition's worthless.

Try to define myself in a way that's evident in how I live my life.

Whatever that's supposed to mean.

Step 1: Disconnect

Internet is mostly bullshit anyway. Forums are a poor replacement for the real thing.

But I have to see who is on facebook. That person I haven't seen in years. Some girl I knew in grammar school and was never really friends with. The people who you know but don't really give a fuck. Fuck that. Why do I need it? What positive effect is it to my life? Some false sense that I have hundreds of friends?

No reason to spend my life here. Try to get out and do something positive, or something. What I've been saying for years.

tea and two slices

On the bright side, I'm not actually poor.

If I was really poor, I wouldn't have a place to sleep or anything. I'm only poor on paper, with it's red ink and compounding interest. Standard highway robbery no one can touch.

I'm not poor because I don't look or dress like it. Middle class to the ultimate degree.

Maybe I should. Stop buying shit I don't need. In more than one way.

Last Light

Anvils in the sky
white and grey with anger
Last light of the sun
beaming to the top of our towers

Water suspended in the sky
updrafts of pressure
sequenced through time
until we make it to the ocean.