Into The Evening, And We Begin...

Inspired by a song in this late night hour, I sit and smoke just one more cigarette and think on thoughts that need not thought until the end of my existence in this place. It all started so damned strange... I took a look at a place on a map. I told my friends and family I'd be gone. I packed the car and headed north and landed here and fought and won and lost and losing. I battled the elderly via telemarketing imprisonment. I rummaged through old clothes, getting older, and bought and sold and worn and collected. I watched the snow fall and fall and fall and the cold crisp air that took mine away and clearly stretch the streets for further than I had seen before. I walked and ran and swam and drove and driving and landed somewhere; everywhere where there was grass and quiet and the fucking mosquitos were hounding me all the while, while I sat and spoke and heard and hearing now whatever it is that fuels the change that changed the mind, the mind in me. I shared myself, and kicked and fought, and it fell in the river, with a little bit of a soul, stuck on a hill overlooking the town that harbored my repressions for a year in the maker's and my eye. And Monday came, and Tuesday, and firstday and lastday will come. I planted roots in faces and places and the roots are uprooted. I talked so grandly of days and nights, past and present, and the talk is so cheap, and the words are so empty to me now. I took five years and I wrote it on a paper and then crumbled it up and threw it in the gutter. I visited my former self in my former life and my former home and I saw a ghost and a vagrant and an asshole, only it was only me the whole time away from myself again. I invested in the product of meaningfulness and I went bankrupt. I invested in you and here you are still here, only I'm not with you, and I'm not asking why. I slept so empty on the bed in the top room of the cold house of the winter place. But I guess its guess that gets me setting my sights on those lights that pull me by and away from anywhere i seem to stop like a firefly into the darkened night of the eternal darkness. It's 4:04 and here I sit all cold and exposed. Well whatever this means it means its still going, and going it will whether I sleep tonight or ever again. And sleep is just forgetting, or fractions of remembrance, or hesitance to seeing, or seeing but not believing, or believe and nothing resolved. I suppose its all become a habit of habits acquired by infamous hesitance. Well I don't need you to resolve it. If its not mine than its not yours to be resolving either. And fucking Spring is suppose to stop this winter thinking, and here we go again forever blinking twice when the flashes go by so goddamned fast it hurts our eyes. Oh well, oh well, what will we do? Some laughing maybe, or a walk or a sigh. Whatever we do, I do it and you do it and mistakes are mistakes without the regretting that's getting to be the awkward way of things.
I break the line and I break the words.
and they fall,
and fall,
fall,
F
A
L
L

away.


*Whatever all that means.