sittin alone, in the dark.
nothin in my mind but
confusion and dissappointment
in me, in them, in her, in him
hate? no, too strong
love? no, too weak
concern? perhaps although still no
confusion? no, too easy
frustration? no, to complex
lost? maybe... lost in the darkness
that is my mind, a maze of honesty and lies,
stories and deep from the gut creativity, dreamlands
that call to me while i am awake, places that exist
only in the depths of my soul, places that captivate
the listeners of the tales i weave, places that i visit
in my dreams, my nightmares, my mind that dark
labrinth of hate, love, lust, concern, confusion,
frustration, light fighting dark fighting the endless grey
area inbetween.... all the forests of ja'dea's book, the
cold depth of space that is i am cold, the endless possibilities
of terra transporter, the insanity of the bonding, the
dilusion of thirteen, the dark oddities of exxes, the unexplainable
hell of my nightmares, the things that reach out to me from the
dark shadows after waking from them, or am i really awake?
the spark of desire, the fire of lust, the burnt out charred remains...
sittin alone, in the dark spilling my guts to a digital ear, one that
only listens, never doubts, never whines, never shatters, never turning
away, just listens, lets me spill the insides of my inner self...
this digital thing, this one way pipe of feeling...
i feel alone, but not by myself, the ringing of wind chimes, the
AC compressor grinding to life, the wind, the distant traffic, barely
audible.... my breathing... the slapping of the keys on this keyboard,
sittin alone in the dark, wanting things i cannot have, not fully appreciating
those things i do have, letting my mind wander to new places, new stories
new memories, new nightmares, old thoughts, new hates,
older darkness, familiar deamons... not a writter i say to me, not a writter
i say to others, not a writter even now, but i am writting something, am i
not? is this "writting" ? is it psycho-babble? will this make any sense
tomorrow, maybe not, but is that the point? no. what is the point?
lost. in my thoughts of the day, in the touch of a friend, in the concern
of a wife, the love of a son, the depth of some, the shallowness of others,
the questions of theology, the answers of honesty, the reaction of a young
girl missed, the action of a fool, the taste of free ice cream, the fun of driving,
the relief of a job completed, the kindness of a stranger, the foul stench of
someone known...
bitterness, hypocracy, church, people, fighting the desire to want to hide in
a box, and staple the lid shut...
sittin alone in the dark, nothing in my mind but confusion...
