The god damned tears , curses from my father , and his father before him - biblical journeys of inheritance: I would give it all away, if it would go away… oh, to see it all in flames: a furnace of moments, things said, things read, the bloody innocence of a tortured puberty, the empty eyes, suffering shared, 1000 religious texts’ contradictions, hatred in all its addictions; burning to ash, transformation - the fucking tears, as worthless as their origins: cocksuckers and queers, afraid of the day, burdening all, … what point is there in quotes if not to cause distress, no, distress is to be avoided - the tears are just annoying, making it hard to breath through my nose, my father’s nasal voice grating and irascible, though I never saw a tear upon his cheek. I imagine there are no tears when one train-hops - all the freedom of predestination would erase the past’s meaning. I dream of hopping a train, wherever it may go, the noise of the steel wheels drowns out my own voice until the thoughts are mechanical , meaningless and rote , betraying only the changes in the tracks ahead. It is a better dream, hopping trains,than the alternative:cutting out my own voice, and when that fails, my own mind creating endlessly the memories for which there is no need.
screaming at low volumes
