Tag Archives: sponge


present day [23 dec 2008]

…I put it out there.

the where-with-all… the attention-span. Maybe it was a self-fulfilling prophesy; but maybe it’s just what it is.

The Truth.

I’ve never had it. And now, blaring in all it’s glory… my inaction has brought forth evidence.

It’s not a matte of if I’m good. I mean, what the fuck does “good” even mean? I mean, I know what it means. But this is a dry dry, arid sponge absorbing every last drip of… it’s own cerebral spinal fluid… it’s lymphatic fluid… saliva… blood… urine… stomach bile.

it absorbs everything that is itself and swells to grand proportions.

Disgunstingly… swells.

and nothing about anything about it is new… is learned… is anything.

and most importantly, I don’t need any of it. I don’t need to write. I don’t need to feel. I don’t need to take a knife and stab below my collar bone… deeeeeep and dragggg diagonally.

because I don’t need to know what my heart looks like. I don’t need to see the rich maroon sac beat and pump. I don’t need to stare… then

my mouth… I don’t need to touch my mouth to this rich rich pumping, twitching beat. valves and veins… the blue rendered purple as the red runneth over.

I don’t. need. anything.

ohhhhhh… but I want to need it soooo bad.


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