I'm trying to make a difference in this world. I'm trying to keep philosophy alive. I'm trying to influence your mind all the while mine is traveling an a billion directions at once.
I believe a little insanity is a good thing.
I'm inspired by life and I'm inspired by brains and nature and love and happiness and obsessiveness and anything else that's in this universe and outside of it. I think too much. I write compulsively. I don't want society to stop reading. I don't want society to stop creating. I want to contribute to this planet's literature that is so often hidden under media, pop culture, and other things that won't really matter in fifty years.
These are my thoughts, and I can't control them. I can't control the words that flow out of my brain and through my body.
This is word vomit. And I'm not cleaning it up.
of you
Your face is a silhouette I captured in the dark. In the haste, in the glow, in the power of the art that we threw away in messes of wonder, our thoughts were asunder, hearts beat like thunder.
Booming with storms spilling the rain that won’t stay, it just drips away, it’ll dry by next day. I couldn’t open my eyes past the squint they were in, clenched fists, move hips, vulnerability stretched thin.
And there comes a time when words are more than vowels, phonological sounds, linguistic backgrounds. And there comes a time when your mind is released, I took the back streets, avoided main streets.
That’s where you met me.
That’s where you met me.
That’s when you told me.
And your words were a silhouette I captured in the dark. Sweet Waste, let go of that power of my art that I threw away in my messes of wonder, my thoughts were asunder, but your truth was like thunder.
