lately i've felt more free than most times. i go wherever, i do whatever, i smoke whatever not worrying about anything or anyone else. it's so nice to feel like this, to feel like my own universe is turning in the right direction, right inside the lines that the stars are plotting out for me. yet all day i've had one thing on my mind, one person and one solid memory. even the smells of my friends neighborhood remind me of him. looking inside empty houses remind me, reading poety or thinking about doing homework. i feel stuck inside the sinking sand of everyone's father, but i'm digging myself deeper, i think.
i always skip from one puddle of emotions to the next. each person trying to keep my feet on the ground, i think. i throw up my red flag - every single time, and everyone gets it. everyone lets go and i keep running, most times in circles with the occasional opposite direction. i run back and forth from being water to being mud, from being light to hiding under rocks and eating them for every meal. counting them, then losing track.
i don't know what was meant by the old yellow book that's written in a foreign language, but our home is never the same. i'm always on some different time card than everyone else, in my own arrangement of the empty space, and you're always there. i touch base now and again, but i always push everything away. i repress everything. mostly of fear, of fear of losing the distance i like to run and fear of losing the light i find in loneliness sometimes.
i don't know, i never know, i'm in the wind. maybe one day we'll cross paths again.
It's a fucking beauty to read these words.
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