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be random what is now when is then where is email who i am how it is why it is leave a note? share me, share you make me smile thank you other journals (of course I should be sleeping) (what's life got to do with it?) about me (too much to know at once) friend? (tic tic tic, toc) BE MY GUEST (BOOK) << MISSING �SOMETHING? >> the bottom line who can when i had the time the first of december (has another song) what i do < ? me # > < ? harrychapin # > < ? Random Acts of Journaling # > < ? Poetic Voices # > < ? The Write Club # > < ? Nights Awake # > < ? Fluid # > < ? Adopted # > < ? Childlike # > < ? Poets-Muse # > < ? Five Hundred # > < ? As You Wish # > temporary place holder ()))CRAYON-BOX)))> published blogmad! varb? �2015 CANDOR COMMUNICATIONS IF YOU WANT TO USE THE WORDS FOR ANY REASON TALK TO ME |
stumbling into darkness I don't want to settle for what I have become inspire me to feel more desire I don't want to settle for being numb suddenly I know a child is watching (besides me... and I mean I've been contacted by kids on the net before, in fact I used to have an active kids group among the various online groups I created last century and the groups {and kids, I hope} still exist, though dormant, the groups, that is... I hope the kids are out playing and learning and growing and having fun) and I wonder if I should think about what I write before I write or as I write because maybe some expressions or subjects or words are not appropriate for children... well, the child in me says... fuck that idea... I always hated, and I rarely feel the feeling hate, but let me tell you I hated what adults tried to do to me under the guise of being for my own protection... and I'll be damned if I am going to do it to anyone else... so for all you parents and guardians out there (and thank you annie and baby, for reminding me to mention this here), you might want to read before you let your kids read if you censor the words and subjects your kids are allowed to explore... I don't go out of my way for shock value and I seldom use what most people call curse words in my writing or audible conversation (there are just so many different adjectives and adverbs more descriptive than the seven words George Carlin was not allowed to say on television... and a big yay goes out for Lenny Bruce too, wherever he may be educating people today... though you might find a few of those words and subjects in the getting real section of my written gardens), but freedom is an essential aspect of creativity, integral, even, and I am as I am because I would not accept the limits placed on my experience or thinking as a child... so now that I've pondered this and vented some ancient childhood frustration and decided everyone is welcome to read and that doesn't change a thing, I'll just continue rambling on now... for these is no censorship around here though my enigmatic way is not here to perturb you it may not play too well with human fear unless you are also a dear reader (or as he'd call us, constant reader) of Stephen King (and others of the mind-boggling genre) and perhaps some sixties poets who stretch the limits of subject and language, in which case you might like it here (when I finally get the elastic snap back in my mind... I've been kinda dull, mostly dead, even, in recent years... that's why I want to be inspired to reach higher, remember?)... only some confusion and some pain and a little bit of luck and the guts to take some chances and the wisdom to appreciate the rain and besides, lately I've been distracted by a slightly stiff neck and more recently, the last few days, I've meandered back into the vegetative depths of culinary over-indulgeance and that makes for physical distractions and then there is loneliness that comes from sitting around and veging for too many days (two is long for me now... used to be I could sit and create and not get bored for weeks before I remembered there was life offline... I was so much more content in my own house in the country in those days... but still, the longing to share ever goes too far out of reach of my heart) and so, even though I am in a dreary place, I ramble on some more cuz I want you to know I am here... put on a happy face and smile I miss Charlie... and what's his name... and her too... actually, I miss a lot of people... but... yeah, two songs of inspiration, ever so briefly mixed and then, ramble on in positive directions... toward positive positions... don't let it get you down, it's only... yeah, him too... words of profound poetic prophesy and importance... or something like that... and what would you do if I sang out of tune... and what would you do if I gave you this moment and stood there before you with tears in my eyes... if I bore my soul naked and bled my heart dry, gasped my last breath, whispered goodbye, would you start CPR or just watch and cry?... do you live to come down or get high?... do you ever get through to the why, do you even try? the positions repel and cause inconsequential inconsistencies in the time space continuum without rhyme or reason but breaking rules of engagement and losing grammatic structure with finite contradiction would you graze the last field with all your bovine might asking not what you can do but just closing your eyes and holding your breath until time or consciousness conclude pause in reflection, maybe you see the secrets you won't tell are you trapped in between some heaven and hell of your own creation? forgotten technique
cross over with me to another side that you've never known before, to passages and playgrounds you never dreamed even existed, lost, in random babbling and text scattered this far down a page where few scroll and fewer read... and if you fall into the pit of despair, I hope you climb out before you drown... and if you find balance down here, then fly with me to a place where dreams are conceived and time is born... time to live dreams, time to express and experience each other without asking what we can afford, or what comes next... just losing ourselves in the promise of time... and rhyme... and more text...
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I love you all for coming... for reading all these words for every click feels like more love (I know that sounds absurd) if I could only tell you... one thing more tonight I'd say I wish you could come home with me and be my friends for life |