screaming at low volumes
jgtaylor Morgen choking, gagging for memories always in the morning. the pits of despair, like welcoming friends, beckon with The End. you can not kill me. you can NOT kill me. with friends like these, who needs enemies? except an enemy is a face, unlike this faceless friend: “come, non-existence waits for you…”, like a spa … Read moreGuten Morgen, Sonnenschein
so much has changed, since the dam broke. the villages built to extract the rage have been razed. their inhabitants, mostly dead, cling to vestigial memories. [ Not all of them worked in the mines. ] The baker has taken over, unable to imagine a new place, screaming into my ear, all my heresies against … Read moreThe Art of Letting Go
this roller-coaster of fear and excitement stirring the dreams from boyhood to life a spring of brilliant sunshine droplets and sudden dark spring thunderstorms see me cowering from greatness, there in the garden filled with daisies overwhelming beauty, colors i could not dream not if i’d slept for the next 10 million heart beats this … Read morecatching up
When Joshua crossed the River Jordan, after paying a ransom to get in, en route to Jericho was an Ikea, which gave ol’ Joshua an idea. So instead of decimating 31 Kingdoms and their kings, Joshua bought a bookshelf, among other things. He tidied his tent with paper mache’, he struggled to build things to … Read moreIkea in Jordan
When I realized I could understand german, the voices only made me sad. So I thought I’d learn french, but it’s sadder even than german. I already knew about portuguese: a wonder they haven’t all murdered themselves yet. Is there a language that doesn’t know sadness?
I could fix a lot of things here. The stove now works with all burners. The toilet seat could be replaced, things to paint, water damage … There are a lot of things to fix, but I’ve given up fixing me. So I keep the faith that one day, in fable beauty, someone will fix … Read moreBroken