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Monthly Archives: July 2011

The sight of ones self is hard .. I see the life i have lived from my own angles. i have seen the over burden placed on my youngishness. who couldn’t figures out love but was constantly in it. such that i felt the air and knew i knew. I saw the breeze, and consumed the beauty, but could only match my visions to fears. Everything scared me , though i didn’t admit it ,, i wasn’t going to admit. i hated the violent, and hated the prejudice, that i hated the normal for with that i could only see the blindness for which keeps people in the normal.. I wasn’t afraid of not having a house.. any porch in summer, any truck in winter. would do. my sense of stability was a mental one. a guarding ego controled me and i didnt understand.
So here we are at forty five, still guarding my spirit, still watching normal people progress, love and stumble. nothing make snce, and all seems to brace us for more hatred and apin. when you can not pay your bills you are in pain, when you can not see a future for your children you are in pain. I am so alone in a self created pain.
and yet i am not. these are the final words of the last days of american soverity. but i only can think about ways of cooping. I can only think the facts of economics are played out.. somehow we let corporations rule and while there profits increased we as a people have been left farther and farther to the side. you see if the government can not protect its people because of a defrauded credit line. The government can not create change. or impose rules for the success of its people. We can not have free schooling if we are denied the right to education.
and all i can do is think why i am not able to be enployed, the whys are my own, but i never bowed. and know we have no hope unless it is a natural fact of knowing. inside we feel energy love , a sixth sense of being. and yet we are left to the power economic movements.. We are at the hands of the rich and it will not be nice.
I am working on the magazine but i know it is just beautiful, and sublte.. i am going to create a petition page that will be a form for you to copy and get signed.. for a day off to vote. i am going to keep trying to get up. though i couldn’t today, today i read a little and slept and night is coming and i will go to sleep more. I know.
It is funny but normal is a word for equal pain now. unsure. is our mantra.

and there is time to forget the moment for the expansion of a second. i am looking toward what ever is the crisis of a moment , If we forget to care and float not over the passive diligence determined hierarchy. and just write , without goal or determined end. Reasoning cast to the side for its determined planing and just write. for the latest is that i am getting together the last pieces for Issue nine or one after ten years. nine, the revealed being of creation. but feeling the remninace of my cowardice .. seeing story is . a planning, for which i have never been able to perform , the focus of a mind left to reason emotions cares not for the symbolism of old. trees are symbols for which we just pass, the trees were along the street each spaces to live a life of avenue, each spaced to provide shade and comfort except in wind storms if you look. but just a tree-lined street to some , the perspective angles distancing and cheating the eye.
i have been looking through the digital portrait i have years accumulating. have spent year living. but am fearful of for the innocents i care not to cross , some absolutes in the understanding of a partial faith. i watch my self look for calmness, and destination. the night closes in.
it is a darkness . i wee of what i know of self. some checking in from the passive layers of living, the unseen , mostly the subconscious, the determination of an ego that innocently to the place of purpose. you did cause it was safe.
some how the memories activate themselves against the creation of love. and to look is the matter. watching the worlds i rarely see, for so tired to innocence.
out side. job-ed, happy no matter, accepting . dazed,
the man drops in front of them , and they keep moving. steping over. An awareness of joy like a drug , the unawareness keeping sanity, certian sides to sides.
I wish for myself to be special. and there is only the discipline of being without the discipline.
Wanting to write on care walls.
I hae two ciegerettes. and contain the night witu thinking. for ot think , is the excange. ..
we think becasue we are trying to eliminate the difference we feel. the gola driven passiveity.
so i write this witout planning , what words are coming are only the blanket we cover excuses witho. and the tension of our crying.
I was at odds wit the twenty thouhsand words , of one journal. so I ablut it. to Inter bred with it’s importance. for i refer to much to the balenced emotions surviing the years of questioning. balence a creation of nature to survial,
i have ten minutes left.
the youth of my steps liked to watch women like a room i can no longer enter. for i have sworn to feel. and i have felt bodies. and yet want only a soul.
faded as i am to personal desire mixed with lust , mixed with passion, mixed with determination. . eludeed necessity to prove myself with bowing. so no product comes but this, stumbling over a voice..
loved only to find we define. I am so i do. .. I am .. understood,
self is lying without remorse.
a lived fantasy.
so i changed. they call it growth in the “They” i support. to morrow is another day. . my blindness leads me and i am happy, . consouling
my thoughts with an organic being. a smile at the birds and beings of tangible. the sunsets, sunrises ,discoveries and the merely revealed.
entering history through a moment