so much god and all my nothing explains or contains this what word have i really none at all to hold on to what passes staying long enough only to overwhelm me and fill its space with the same poetry that Schopenhauer claymores after with his philosophy for existence is beyond what physical lens we have that emotions break from another world that collides for the two lenses we’ve got goodness ethereal sublime words that contain every other word

walking away from dirt in the cracks sewer metal pole up into the sky squares of dirt for trees to sit in that don’t belong here for the shade trees cast on sidewalks walked all the leftover leaves scrambling to make it back out their trunks for flowers in pots that preferred domestic lives two gates open in neighborhoods safer than 10 miles to the west or the east I don’t know cars parked along every curb making curbs almost unnecessary

The accuracy of the noiselessness almost uncanny to have my words not buffered by assuming mistakes a helicopter overhead walking on the sidewalk so hearing so much the wind and the leaves that isn’t as loud as the motorcycle revving but light that paints houses not as colorful in the dark quiet now in a nicer neighborhood focusing without fear as my hair blows and my shirt sleeves blow

higher up closer to my subconscious mind uneven like the steps sideways on the side of the house the nearest to stay straight and 90° on incline sidewalks remaining normal according to gravity and all else that ties the physical world down into what it is staying the same for us to be able to predict and go on living without making dying mistakes

her waiting for me to walk away and talk to myself so as to avoid the self-consciousness that comes with the writing out loud in front of other people and hoping the spoken word stays natural as it comes to your heart when your hearts right and your mind did not do any of the writing except for getting in the way and trying to edit prematurely but really not helping the heart right after what it surely knows

struggling to get past this/old into that color list colorful non-physical dream religion God drug night other besides a world where things just flow and melts and go together and don’t choose sides or decide or define but just leave things to run as they would have without any help anyway such that the world would be without

pushing the limits now past having too much to even make sense of any part of it without seeing the trees for the forest or the clouds for the sky or any discretionary part of a modeled mass large enough to be itself and then goals everything else that would’ve been another but now only contributed a part not even recognized though not all together uneasy at least to belong

writing speech to text like this letting it go as it naturally would without having to take time to let my editing mind wonder about what is right but really just saying and being alone and letting her mind go as it always goes and goes and goes without stopping unless they hear about stopping in so I was still thinking in someway but give it an hour if I can only keep talking in writing maybe I’ll empty it all one day

So sleek similar to shampoo rinsing out of your hair like this on between your fingers and the rubber tire patched up against the cement curb trying so hard to be where it belongs as long as his car stay on the roads and people stay on the sidewalks and everything remains in its place and nothing unexpected or Turner to quickly then we can all get along with an order an expectation of things

Nonsense so consistently I wonder if it even begins to mean anything or remains just as it is everything outside of sens like to? Beyond the supposable outer pound of the ever expanding universe universe

Standing on the street corner she asked where do you want to go I stand there and think of all the possibilities and then say to her i want to stand right here thinking of all the possibilities

Leaving her to write is a theme that extends beyond just the practicality avoiding her presence to let my self consciousness dissolve but also stands between the conflict of letting everything go into my heart versus being with her and focusing and settling down

Sleepy somber sweet time notes leaving longer knee-high modes making mostly meager half times seeking timbre needle thick lines Needing no more they say her lies sending after chemical half lives