the neverending thought, thought, thought

Well it's late but I thumbed the dictionary and found 'confabulation' it's a jim fun dandy of a word I think and I wonder how much of my own memories are confabulated and how much that lends to how I think about present day stuff. Hell I'm very rough around the edges of a a serraded blade dripping wet dish soap can't quite cope with my blurring vision lids dropping in unison stopping at the bottom floor of the cousin of death sleep is so I'm told not that old but not that young am I I grew up by the atlantic in a beautifal town I took it for granted when I became a teen and fled to Ohio where I nearly bled till dead no friends or family ended up grabbing bad stuff on the street late in a bad neighborhood and nearly got stabbed glasses knocked off face rocked a state of not caring glaring daily f*** you pay me is a funny motto I've never clung to but now I'm writing A minus college papers for friends whose colleges and universities laughed at my high school transcript and told me to keep getting lit and keep away from all of their golden nit witted rituals and usual spoonfulls of diaper fillings seem to be refilling the mouths of so many nowadays I feel like communication is getting better and worse topsy turvey try to be a worthy man but I dislike societies band, their music can be stuffy and bland, so I wash my hands take bold stands and distribute myself truthfully in the moment for strangers and friends to see and read and tell and talk and the more I hear the less I fear the more my inner jeerleader feeds me strength the mor I feel like I'm here and that it matters and that ill probably live forever because I know nothing else and not in the way that it's thought but in an unexplainable eternal kind of way like all of life and everything is just one big organism that and we are the cells and though we die we are rebuilt elsewhere, no better or worse no less or more no need to fear i'll always be here no need to fear death I'll always have breath, or water, or soil, or propelleors or trunks, or fins, or worlds, or maybe I'll wake up and be that giant organism that encompasses everything only to be aware that I'm not the biggest piece in the puzzle not even slightly immensly brightly fight me wrong me right me I'm going to bed. 

The End

50 comments about this story Feed