Journal of Desire

empty

middle of day

time is a meter

time is a current

constant in motiona river that takes me

further and further alone

I must stay

bus is half full with silent repast

the sun tries to steal the moment is last

but under the clouds under the real

impossible dreams impossibles feel

I travel alone, I fake on my own

always in dreams hearing the tone

Gentle and rolling

sidewalk unfolding

wind brings me here

brings me here

gently

of everything that they

try to see through you

If anger is real

anger you feel

but nothing is real

time to move on

for the 4 walls around

your mind

you act on your stage with a fourth wall between

can you break the fourth wall

Forth coming I greet you

I=ve still yet to meet you

because of your wall

stand up come with me

we only see through if

we break the wall

stand up and scream, louder, this isn=t a dream

we must fight for the

heart to escape from the scene

let it out and let all

of the fire fuel your dreams

how do you feel

talk, please, shout,

of the fire fuel your dreams

is this you sitting still?

It=s mind fucking time

get up, get real

get up and feel

Column two

ATranscendental meditation@ (bad term to use, since it isn=t really that) while focusing on a photo - one of green jungle like stuff - and then closing the eyes starts the process. After doing this, by continuing to focus on the photo through the closed eyes, and then dropping the head to the left side and breathing in and out in such a way as to induce instant half black out and sleep which allows teleportation. I did this and accidentally ended up in Japan, where I was on a public transit sort of vehicle with an open top on a free way overpass sort of thing protesting for environmental causes and against, namely, the BLM. This protest became under attack by the police, and I attempted, upon realizing the danger of the situation, to rectify by using my skill of teleporting out. I inadvertently, after some failed attempts at teleportation, instead transporting to an awakened state (more or less) and then easing back into the groove slowly. In the photo room I used to (against the rules) climb in and explore, a room with a few angles, a very high ceiling, very white walls, and intricate and very modern art and sculptures sparsely dotting the scene. I meet on the steps immediately to the right of the entrance a tall, pimply man with whom I converse about height (he=s taller than me) and recall how the acme meds didn=t work for this guy and I knew or knew of him. I meet his son (also riddled with acne). He is slightly shorter. We talk about basketball.

I am endeavoring to protect a large pillar-like cliff that is in the center of an oxbow culdesac, and it is a place in which I have either lived or spent a significant amount of time. There are others there, but they aren=t very many. To ascend to the top of this pillar, one has to climb almost vertically over scraggly dirt spall and kitchen appliances, especially a refrigerator with the droors and doors open. I exist there until some climactic change occurs, at which point I climb to the top and jump to the cliff on the other side. The others on the cliff feel like invaders, intruders, people that don=t belong. I thus endeavor to keep them away, but really have no control over them at all.

I am walking down the street with someone I truly love. All I can think about is being with her, and she is happy with me, at least, too. There is a slight rain that starts (while we are out in a shopping sort of area) and she has an umbrella. She insists that I share it with her. I do, we are close, and I feel the smoothness of her hands and am truly, truly happy, just being with her, under her umbrella. APolice@ interpretations, anyone?

***I am running through the desert, sage brush, low desert height, with rock walls and crops miles away from me. I run without tiring, I run with great ease, with great speed. Others run as well, but I don=t see them, though I am totally aware of their presence. I run over little hills and valleys, with the objective, a huge rock outcropping, looming ahead of me. Desert flowers and other vegetation streams past me at a great rate, yet I perceive all, seeing where I am and where I have been and am going, without lacking. The sky is blue with whispy white in the only clouds, I feel the sun warming my bare arms and legs. I wear a T-shirt and shorts. I reach the large outcropping of sandstone, and am shaded by it from the heat of the afternoon. The dry coolness from shady sand dunes reaches me as I climb to the bottom of the cliff. I put my hands on the sides of a large boulder, and raise myself into a crevice. The roughness of the stone makes tiny but harmless and worriless abrasions on my forearms and hands. I press with my arms, lift up, plant my feet, wedge, and chimney higher; I reach a higher portion, shinny around a knobby outcropping - some ancient boulder weathered into place above an ancient crack - and stretch over the cool rock. I reach the top, feeling the gritty warmth on the sunned last few steps of the climb. I reach the top and stand high. I am not the highest on the huge, ayers rock proportioned stone, but I am also not the lowest; I stand on a peak that gives me a good view of the rock beneath and in front of me, the desert floor hundreds of feet below me, and the higher peak of the outcroppings behind me. The wind blows warmly, the sun is beginning to set into the whispy clouds of the horizon far above. The rock has many people standing on it, scattered, with arms outstretched in the wind. The warmth of the desert is comforting and familiar, and I want for nothing. A man with a severely clipped buzz cut, surely some ROTC/army/etc member, jumps straight up, spinning like a diver in reverse gravity, and gracefully arcs into a fish-hook path flying over the walls of the cliff. Others follow, exhibiting joy at the revelation of their discoveries and the finality of their decisions, knowing all that they did and that their goals and projects for which they had striven for years before had finally been completed. I stand, issue a tear of understanding, happiness, and love as the others resign themselves to their deaths, knowing that they were doing what they had to and that my destiny was different. A helicopter comes and takes me, arrests me for crimes that should never be, forcing me to be stuck behind a chain link fence. The fence has small burrs which occasionally catch fingers while climbing. However, the movement has begun, and with falls from high fences, walls, buildings, and natural features everywhere, the world has collected and issued its final decree, the project is complete. I live on to observe and understand and love.

You took my life

you took my life

you took

you took my

you

you took my life

you took me

feel to feel you

want to find you

spend it all in

some unfound clue

go behind

away with mind

to take a(gain/ stand)

a life worth livin

far before the

offing of new

placement round the

place of found the

time again and, mind again is you

one to drown you

two to hear you

three resound in

isolation

out behind my

for

mer

and so we take

what we have learned

today: life, love,

learn, love

you first is please

always I my stuck

knew ugly on

me head you luck

you I last get

visus tactus gustus

go to land away with mind

to take a stand a life worth livin

standing ready ready fall

Standing ready ready fall

singular emptiness

anarchy

edward abbey

anarchy

Coffee fucked me up, it is a result of my own inhibitions combined with inability to express. Damn. Sucks to be me.

jerk.