Pieces of body

All the pieces of body 

Bones, blood, skin glued

Together with minimization

And denial. The stickiest substance ever created.

They've dissolved now

A puddle leaving

My dress, earrings, and shoes lonely

On the bathroom floor.

Parking lot

I forgot my glasses

This morning.

Started driving.

noticed 

Eventually

Not any change to my vision

But a dull ache

Alerting my eyes

That they had to try harder.

A different space

Between my eyes 

And that tree.

The same tree

For a hundred years

Eyes a telescope lens

Smudged with Vaseline

Drive thru life

Metaphors just waiting

To be applied to this

Moment just waiting

To be inspired by this

Experience just waiting

To be interpreted to this

Beauty just waiting

To be acknowledged for this

Discomfort just waiting

To be content with this

Life just waiting

For my damn prescription

Intergalactic planetary

Decided to cry on route 9.

No surprise 

It was where we were born.

Ready for you to leave my head alone

This is fucking stupid. 

Love does not exist. 

Selfish stars just aligning 

Then competing

Until one convinces himself 

That the universe ultimately 

Revolves around 

His exploding helium,

Swallowing up his own debris.

 

The fourth of ju-lie

delete.  Everything I said before,
I take it back.  delete.  If I don't
give it words-can it still live?
in my smooth muscle its action
potential driving a twitch.  An
influx of ions, kicking a fit.
flipping the old switch, lights
now dim.  writing it no longer
gives me the rush.  Just the wire
that used to be a sparkler. now
padded with crusty, compacted ash.
No longer useful for its original purpose
yet unable to function as anything else.
Just another piece of garbage to
throw out on Independence day.

Natural disaster

I pressed the button. My

Finger ached and hovered

Over it probably fifteen times

Before. And I resisted. This time

It was too easy. Liquid blocking

The impulse And it was done. 

The rush was too familiar.  Swirling 

In your tornado. Debris of each taste 

Each second sealed in my memory now

Flying past and all around me

Charged magnets and I'm metal. I

Force the storm still. Please 

level our house. Stay long enough

So I know it's completely 

Beyond repair. No lingering 

framework, studs, or electricity. 

Watch us on the news, reporters

Too smart to get close enough to 

See the demise. When it's over 

They'll wander pathetically through

Pointing out how our first kiss 

Was catapulted into nearby Nebraska,

And speculate when FEMA will arrive. 

They'll ask for donations for funds

allocated to rebuilding new 

residences to house these broken

hearts without acknowledging 

The harsher truth. Love will probably 

Come again, this time fresh and new. 

And there's no sense rebuilding.

There's not a damn thing we can do.

Faster.

Driving has become dodgeball.

This blue car insistently

Flying by. Adrenaline

floods my arteries reaching 

every cell vibrating your 

energy. Quick! look is it...

I'm secretly hoping 

it might hit me

So I can just sit out 

(the rest of) this game. 

you never notice a certain model

Until you start car shopping.

Interest. Test drive. Boom! it's (you're) everywhere. 

When I run 

I pretend that it's away from you.

I go faster. It's Greek 

(so are you). Again.

paper planes on my headphones,

Louder. "All I wanna do is

Bang bang bang bang cha Ching..."

I imagine where they would 

land on your olive skin. Visualize

violence through your bones

two to your perfect face

Blood spattering on mine and I 

Keep running. Faster.

One to the chest I felt so safe 

When layed my head on.

Your holed heart now matches mine.

The last...where you exploded

Inside. Then collapsed in a heap

On my bed.

Don't misunderstand. 

I do not want you 

(to die).

I'm just dying to kill your memory. 

Especially this one:

we are lying face to face.

Hands crossed cheek to cheek

You're tasting me like a tangerine,

and teasing my bottom lip.

I peek at your greenish eyes

and you're peeking too.

I'm positive I love you. 

And you love me, too.

I never loved you

I started writing this 

In the waiting room but

It got erased like it never 

Was like we never were.

But we were. And it was.

Your chaos swirls around my

Head like that storm on Jupiter 

Folding in on itself still rotating

On an axis and revolving round

The same sun. As me but my orbit 

Thrown off a little bit longer of winter. 

I know that you'll never be back. 

Which is why I haven't washed 

This pillowcase. I haven't traveled 

To your side, but at this one specific angle I can feel your carbon dioxide 

On my neck and I can smell you

On top of me. Like you always were

Like we never were.

Oh, but we were.

We were up at 2am in this same spot

Giggling like a fifth grade sleepover

Bodies encircled and intertwined

Begging to be as close as

Our auras the mixed up molecules

Of our Karmas making A piece of 

The illusion of peace. Our reality 

Is back in that waiting room. Me.

Alone with my phone.

Writing this nothing

We were about to become. 

Sitting next to the lady

With the angry birds purse. 

Reading your daggers  these

Cuts deeper with every repetition. 

I never loved you, right? 

Fine

I haven't yet decided

Wether I want you 

To read this or

Not. I see you (no)

Matter what my optic

Nerves are processing. 

These Senses are useless 

For anything else. Fine 

Details the lines of your bones

In your perfect face shadowy

Outlines hide your back 

In that white T-shirt. The length 

Of your contrasted eyelashes 

Against the whites of your honestly

Lying eyes the sandpaper scratch

Your stubble tickling my

Neck the heat of your pillowy 

Lips sending tidal wave

Sweetness to every cell arching 

My back to meet your hips we 

Belonged tangled up 

Tangled up

In knots now my stomach

I ingested your venom your

Pattern so intricate 

and beautiful that 

I had to see it up close. Closer.

The closest I could get now 

Nausea now nothing now I'm 

Not sure if I should send this or

Let you believe 

that I've just died.

Washed up

It's low tide in our place-

Tide pools and sandbars 

Replaced our depths.

 ocean hearts magnetized

And pulled out with the moon.

That day I jumped into your

Ocean eyes hypnotized 

By our chemistry you

Left my body on the sand 

Like a creature washed up

By hurricane surf.

Stranded. Dry. Only 

Accompanied by stale seaweed 

And hermit crab shells. 

To be carried eventually

Back to sea this time 

Missing the life you stole 

Away from me.

Fuck this phone

This glowing rectangle

Another backlit screen

I want to throw it out the window

Delete your name and face

And Reread your texts

I have no more sophisticated lines

No eloquent phrases

Just a playlist. 

Of the saddest songs ive ever heard

On repeat shuffle

Waiting

For this to go away.

It doesn't belong to me

 I wrote before to tell you
How our hearts together
Felt like sunrise
After a life of night.
Now

our sun has set
And my life is night
Again. How was

Love 

Powerless?

The same way you are

The same way I am.

I want my sun back-every

Moment lost in your eyes every

Firecracker kiss every

Heavenly touch every

Second of the best day 

We will ever know.

You can keep our night-every

Smiling Deception every

Stolen sympathy every

Lonely lie every

Second of the coldest black

I will ever know.

It doesn't belong to me.

Pack it in your bag and

Carry it into your own night.

WHAT THE FUCK

I didn't ask for this.
I hate who I am.
Unexcited by the ordinary
uncomfortable in this body
Only feeling this hole
that I am and I'm into
all the same.
I want to cut it open
some more to explore
what lives here.
I've got that feeling again
that I'm the only one left.
Failing to connect to
everything I project.

On avoidance

Everyday I think about it Wonder how full it is.
 Of communication intercepted
 By my own inability To accept my life.
Bringing it inside means It belongs to me.
 They have reached me,
With an expectation of response.
Pretending you do not exist
Means I owe you nothing.
Sometimes I see you
 And I put you back.
Save you for tomorrow or the next day.
Sometimes I just drive right by you
Fuck it. You're just junk anyway.

I'm wearing your t-shirt

Last night...
Every star in the milky way
(not the candy bar)
melted together like
plate tectonics it is reverse pangea
in my heart.
The real me inside was
doing backflips all the way
to the ones reaching out
to galaxies i cant remember the names of
that hold the stars
I used to be.
This must be home.

Finally, off the restriction
of my planetary body.
It is so fucking bright.
The contrast between
the nothingness of space
and the everything I feel here
this must be...

I don't want to say love
because it sounds cheap
stale, and vapid.
What they call egos
caught in manipulations
for the temporary relief
from the deficiency of one
stolen from another.

We are different.
An explosion of transparency-
clear, incorruptible, awakened, brilliant.
I cannot hold this for myself.
My ego hates this taste.
It refuses to feed the darkness
humans must posses.
It is the mingling of the ethers...
beyond the senses and
the contents of my body.

I need you to feel it too.
I need to make you glow
to strip your ego with my touch
so you can experience our light.
Physicists can try but this cannot
be contained by scientific formulas.
Because it started before them...
but I know this "love"
is what started the stars.

Written without a thesaurus

It was stamped on my brain

In between yesterday 

And the tomorrow before.

Filed away as useless

Perhaps it was.

Still it flashed through 

Like the moment you die 

Memories Chopped up

Thrown like confetti 

Rearranged with

snowflake Uniqueness

And frozen precision.

You're Vaguely obvious.

I've been here before.

Still

Acutely aware
Of awareness where
Do I feel it its black
Hole stealing attention
Once devoted to you.
Introspective new prospective
Still
Illiterate in my language
Why
Is not a helpful question but
How
Do I remember to breathe you
When your air is so
Vacant...subtle
Let my ego preside
It might be easier to believe
I need than
I am.

You make me want to write again

you make me want to write again.

energy weighted with
blackish spots
now vivid portraits
beg to be painted
with a word brush.
I need you to see me.
...that never happens.
you are

From the inside out my
Melting Layers of love
Escaping defenses defenseless
Against your spark ignites
night red illuminating
shadows under my skin and
For the first time
I need you to see me
Both- Black. Bright.
Read me like this poem.
Stumble over my intricate word
Choice? Wander the spaces
Between my lines you
Make me want to write again
This
Time an open book.

decide.

my eyes were shut when you arrived.
starring in the unconscious constellations
of my head space observing
marking time until I'd wake up.
I did.
waking life waits not for dreams.

my eyes were open when you arrived.
 you saw me first.
an exotic anxiety screaming my heart
faster. no slower. stop.
I decide to decide what color your eyes are.
I can't. instead
I decide the entire universe must exist inside them.
there is nothing here to compare them to.
I decide I'll ask you someday.

Someday arrived soon.
we tread into limitless blue with neon hearts
only glowing for each other.
I decide I was right.
Everything exists in our electricity.now
tell me.
What color are your eyes?

I can't sleep

Now that I live alone
I'm naked all the time.
One less v-neck obstacle
is interfering with
the equal and opposite force
between the hearts
of our planetary bodies.

Gravity has taken the place
of your weight its
Atmospheres of pressure
lie on top of me and
force my breath shallow.
Keep me up all night
holding me down.

I only made it to 8am physics
three or four times, so its
still mysterious to me--
this fundamental force
that attracts the mass of one
object to another; but
I conjecture
when we're tangled up
in skin and sweet
my every cell in unison
decides the desire for you
closer
is all that matters, that
must be gravity.

Sometimes when I can't sleep
I read Relativity.
Tonight, I think I'll write it.

"I told him he'd been living in my fantasies for so long..."

Nothing is art

anymore.

My only Muse

is the band.

        Someone 

      stole it.

An orange marker/

pen in an airport

told my diary the details-

pulling my hips meet yours

thought

you'd stay there if 

I tied the night red

around my wrist.

Just now I gathered

all my kamikaze 

neurotransmitters 

to do it. 

The blue sticker means

Do Not Resuscitate.

Don't crack my ribs

to save my heart. mildew

and chemical-y tropics are

not in my advanced directives.

Just let me drive home drunk

on sour, fermented memories

and kill us once and for all.

The first time I did CPR

-I mean, really did CPR-

compressions, and all,

there were about 10 of us 

working on the rapidly decaying
sweat and vomit slicked corpse

that all stopped moving as his

pocket holster cell phone sang

"endless love."

now,

The only other time I heard

comparable silence in the ER

was during the Superbowl.

we let him die.

There's no such thing as a detour.

Theres an electricity

highway 

tonight, like last 

sitting traffic waiting

for the bottlenecked sparks

to consolidate and continue

the midnight commute.

Construction workers 

down uppers demolishing

pathways once reserved

for carpools now just

concrete gray we used

(to be) white lines.

Action potentials signal
axonal pathways please
Heart-beats rush more
something just synchronize
arterial gases please keep
my battery charged don't
run out
secretions too sweet just
dance on my tongue let me
feel you explode from my
outside in let our electricity
cauterize our karma let me
feel me as whole even
driving in the breakdown
lane I catch the black in brown
eyes my rearview rejecting/reflecting
yours back and all of a sudden
the exit exists and
so do I.

sharks gobbled up my heart

We used to watch shark week
grizzly
In my full sized bed Air
Conditioned like the terms of
the relation uncategorizable like
the emotion in his eyes holding up
tiles with bad posture I tried to
correct it and I traded down diamonds
for cubic zirconia. When I shined
up after the rock
tumbler
he appeared new form
tighter together less ego he
saw god in my eyes so I
(logically)
let some love in my heart leave
and let sweetness land on his
cheeks my
desire to desire greater than my
desire to be desireless empty
and full of him at the same time same
lesson inside me now growing
occupying more space surpassing
time quarter century crisis out of

the way the hard way. hey let's fall in
these shark love
infested waters it
would look hot on camera.

pulseless electrical activity

My heart exploded

this afternoon.

It is the only hypothesis

supporting

abstract reports from

the shards of mistrust

and melancholy

that were blown away.

Shivers and palpitations

propelled them into

the ethers where radiance

and resolution

had been watching ever

patiently waiting

to be magnetized by

improved acoustics

rendering

your whispered name

aural in my chest.

Your heart no longer mine

beats relentless endless

redundant

infinite

love.

Alarm clock catastrophe

This morning sometime
between six and seven
we were
up in clouds.
a few details iced
my day
but
     tonight I resolve to
revisit the sweetness
like when
       with your eyes you
showed me how
to feel forever reflecting
 opposite mirrors seeing
infinite numbers of each
other and open so wide that
I cant wait to close them
again tonight.

Pranayam

It didn't happen while
 I was meditating.
No mantras, no naad,
nada.
Instead-
I dove in while
no one was watching.

Gravity commanded
 my anatomy.
And under its rule
the vessel capsized.
Liquid blue hydrogen bonds
refused to give up their oxygen
in any viable form
and the resultant lifeless body
plummeted to darker hues.

The prana
 that had accumulated
during my short stay
took a vacation from
biology
and observed.

I don't recall a fight
but
my body begs me to
every time
I identify
with maya.
Because,
my lungs remember
(and relive)
that they are finite
and I am not
with every exchange.

I won the genetics lottery

I witnessed you making
Little decisions along the way
to leave your hard hat,
workboots, and feet behind
and float up.
made in moments which
accrued compound interest
over decades.

When we traded your 401(k)
in exchange for a couple of days
of mechanically inflating your lungs
I silently protested
you might be getting a bad deal.
Not because we wanted the money
but because you wreaked
of hospital and defeat.

It's not as if we had a choice,
but your double helix genes
That were done with your jeans
vibrated your blues song
in every cell of my body.

Between lifetimes you and I
decided
I'd hold your DNA now mine
up to a light, to expose
your cache of radiance
and shine
bright enough
for us both.

Put on your red shoes and dance the blues

I think I finally understand that Killers song.
(Human vs. Dancer)
Personally, I prefer dancer.
even human perfection
has nothing on you.
You're
a c-walk in the park
an awkward middle school step touch
a choreographed cheer dance
a red carpet sashay
a prom on the promenade
a slutty slide down that pole
a hustle right into heaven.
shake it, girl.

Universe, Multiverse, who gives a shit?

I'm packing up my suitcase and I'm not bringing you.
I won't need you where I'm going
and besides, you wouldn't fit.
I'm already squeezing 10 days into a weekend bag.

tidal motion/love potion

My motivation waxes and wanes with the moon
which makes sense because so do the tides
and I'm water too.

Making copies and sending faxes

residing upstairs 

steals my fire
I'm pleased that my fantasy is imperceptible
when the room is blackish
minus the glimmer on one nightstand.
And its easier to catalogue his blemishes
in the morning.
Dropping hints like bombs
my love detonates
its reliably unreliable,
so I expect the unexpected.
Riding the wave of duality
I'm so desperate to smell the salt at Watch Hill
dig a hole to China
and stonewall jackson.
Eight cups of infinity behind me
as I retire from the game
in flux
with a smile, without a plan.

Special delivery

I'm patiently waiting for it to all make sense.
Like the author of some memoir turned self help book
that hasn't figured out some secret to happily ever after yet.
I catch glimpses of it in the rearview mirror
Its closer than it appears.
The Ah ha! that will sell me a million copies
I taste it on the tip of my tongue
it inflates my heart in dreams
a galactic ocean of emptiness
that abandons me when I open my eyes.
Memories rainbow sprinkled on my day
and my ice cream cone.
evolution air mail
Can I get a tracking number please?
I want to know
when you will arrive at my door.

If it wasn't for the Bronx, this rap shit probably would never would be going on. So tell me, where you from?

Somewhere between the thompson twins and led zeppelin my heart called me up and asked me what I'm doing here.  Earning to spend.  On things I bought years ago.  Like the degree. Squeezing my life plans into a 6 semester credit curriculum. delete backspace move forward despite misspellings and grammatical incorrectness.  words don't work right now.  I need the ocean.  I walked at Fort Griswold the other day.  I'm experiencing deja vu.  Uptown, Baby.

What would be most nourishing for me today?

It's a powerful meditation.

skittles, yoga, hot bath, cold shower, mantra, sleeping in?, sadhana, shopping, blogging, having compassion for my boss, punching my  boss in the face, remembering you, forgetting you, getting a hair cut, letting it grow, a mocha latte, gossiping via iphone, journaling, ice cream, vitamins, relaxing, Kirtan, dancing, painting, laying on the beach, hammocking, seva, paying my bills, blowing off my bills, ruminating, gushers, illiano's pizza?

I resolve

to ask 

and listen

and edit 

my ego.

Let 'em work, let 'em live.

In yoga class our teachers say
that when your body shakes
your nervous system is resetting itself.
like when the nintendo freezes
and you blow the dust out.
maybe thats the reason
I'm freezing
from the inside
out.
uncontrollable/feverish/shivers
mummified in goose down
in the ancient egyptian mind
(that's mine).
I thought maybe
it was the booze drinks
but
now that i remember
what I was trying to forget
and my neuroses meet up
with yours
the integration is too much
for my meridians.
its like
a traffic jam on 95.
why isn't there
an alternate route?
There's always construction
when I'm in a hurry.

nessie.

There's a hole in my sweatpants.

My heater is on and the air is dry.

I'm so sick of the wheels of my mind

spinning the same shit

like  a slot machine

im putting 4 billion quarters in

where the fuck

is my winning combo/?

Satisfaction is the loch ness monster

elusive as fuck

lurking in the shadows.

Its cold.

The immaculate deception.

When you can't be convinced
 everything's all right.
Despite your faith
your stomach tells you
you're fucking up
your bank statement agrees.
The line between being gentle
and losing control
a tightrope walk
 falling is easier.
 its not gymnastics class
 there's no foam pit.
The pavement- merciless
and your bones- soft.
 I was laying on the floor
when I saw me
Jumping off a skyscraper.
Then the Gold Star Bridge.
I wasn't scared.
I was doing backflips and shit.
I have 100$
To last me until Thursday.
Fuck.

Poker Face?

We played for spare change

over drinks and dessert.

Full of cannoli and defeat

I sipped my espresso

and waited

for the lucky hand

that would make me victorious.

I bluffed.

My stacks of nickels dwindled

and then became extinct.

I concede.

I don't mind losing

its an opportunity to practice

unattachment

to the hand

I've been dealt.

Tofu; Pros and Cons.....Just sayin'

As a fairly inconsistent vegetarian, I'm torn on the issue of Soy.  A staple of non-meat eaters, soy products have both a good and a bad rap.  Shall we explore my oversimplified list of Tofu pros and cons?

Pros:
1. That superior feeling you get when everyone else at your table is ordering flesh (How barbaric).
2.  Its a complete protein (has all of the essential amino acids our bodies require). My trainer is always hassling me on the protein.  
3.  It reportedly can  lower HDL (bad cholesterol) if eaten regularly.  AKA it cancels out Doritos.
4.  Has more calcium than dairy products. Moooooooo
5. Isoflavones- apparently act as an estrogen in females- which helps fight certain cancers.
6. Cheap.

Cons:
1. Only tastes good fried.
2. Texture is somewhat spongy.
3.  Unless it is organic its likely to be genetically modified- no bueno.  Even organic is not perfect.
4.  Its cheap because of the way it is grown- which has an adverse effect on the environment- read Michael Pollan's book "The Omnivore's Dilemma."
5.  Effect on the Thyroid- possible endocrine disruptor.
6.  Isoflavones- you'll start acting like a bitch.
7. It's a common IgG allergen...which means you may not know you are sensitive to it

My verdict- OK in moderation.

I used to....

Steal my dad's Newports,

and my mom's socks.

Have a rock tumbler,

and polish mad rocks.

Imagine what I'd look like

when I was a sixteen.

Stay up all night

(with/ without caffeine).

Eat Pop Tarts for breakfast,

skip school/drive around.

Play kickball and house

on the GH Playground.

Love the smell of the library,

and my mom's perfume.

Hate being grounded

to my room.

Wait for my superpowers

to magically manifest.

Something I didn't know,

that I always possessed.

Its like music to my brain.

Downloaded a loaded soundtrack.

 of some songs I remember liking.

Like that night he couldn't stop laughing

 and I kissed his best friend.

Distraction is concentration

 on something else.

 Something more poetic.

 Default thought pathways

designed to coax action potentials

 down the messianic neurons

 leading to liberation.

Sequestered from  the separateness

that is the subconscious.

Merging is metamorphosis

masterfully materialized.

Memories mature

in the medulla oblongata

and wait to resurface

for the perfect moment.

Like now.

Do this in memory of me.

A flood of emotions and a senseless phone call prompted me to expel these thoughts through my pink painted fingers.  I'm not sure why I called.  Especially because my nervous system reacted to the thought with supersonic quickness and let me know to be extra cautious.  Instant nausea and tachycardia. Every cell in my body remembered and reacted.  I wondered why I was holding so much resentment.  I guess I wanted to have a conversation that would make me remember you differently.   A conversation that would make my heart feel light again when I think of you, not like I just got the life knocked out of me with Pai-Mei's 5 Point Palm Exploding Heart Technique. I realize that this is a matter of my perception and it has nothing to do with earthly conversation between AT&T and Verizon Towers.  I conjecture that there's really no need for verbal communication between us.  Our predilection was transmission through the subtle body.  Broadcasting signals from the heart center.  Green light.  Go. 

Blue on Black.

Sometimes it just happens driving home from work. A blues song will come on rxp (New York's rock experience) and it sounds familiar enough for me to turn it up a little bit. The the memories come like an exploding volcano of my subconscious. Stand up CD player. Lake house. Motorcycle. Pain. Within about 45 seconds I'm crying. My heart is so wide open that the lava is excruciating- splattering over the most sympathetic part of me. You're still here but part of you is gone. The torment of knowing someday you'll die. And the pain will be exponentially agonizing. I'm saved when the song is over. Commercials and I'm home.

Short and sweet.

So I've gathered all the picture CDs that I've been collecting since I hurled my HP laptop into the dumpster in Colonial Manor (Groton Estates) for the purpose of uploading them into my new and improved technology. The macbook was not ready for all these memories. Or maybe that was me. Quite honestly, I forgot how much I loved. I never forgot how much it hurt. Two tragedies. One realization. I'm ready.

The Architecture of Awareness

Walking down the street with music in my headphones always made me feel like I was in a music video. A super artistic, exclusive movie during a montage. Generally, when there's a montage, the character in the video is going through some sort of transformation. Any South Park fans would agree (episode 603). I am an ever unfolding metamorphosis of sarah-ness (that is intent on making sense out of these feelings before I leave the biblioteca). Internet ads tell me "DO NOT waste money on Protein shakes! I cured my yellow teeth!" I'm sad for us. I'm emancipated by insight, acumen, and ipod. Copius creativity channeled through cerebrum. Circumstances of affliction redirect my focus to rendevous with a 2 year old with a fresh schism of the naked heart. Its as fresh in my mind as a just-cut lemon. You always liked blues music, but watching you cry on the floor in desperation is a memory I had no idea would be re-enacted 22 years later at the lake house. If I could pick a song for that montage it might be something like "Everything, in its right place." Radiohead is as depressing as they come but our souls were, are, and always will be entwined in perfect formation to indulge the blue print of enlightenment. Sat Nam.

Yogi Sars Volume 1

My first weekend of Kundalini yoga teacher training has passed, and I am having trouble locating the proper words to express it. Usually thesaurus.com is pretty good for that but it failed me just now. Maybe that's because becoming one is ineffable. I was slightly anxious seeing the bout it yoga warriors equipped with turbans and enough white clothing to outfit the KKK for, like, a millenia. The thought passed through that perhaps I was joining some kind fanatical cult, they were so happy looking- DANGER. Then I called up my favorite Yogi for a reality check. "Dude, if you got brainwashed it wouldnt be the worst thing that happened."

So I plopped onto my pillow in easy pose for whatI learned afterwards would be 21 minutes of meditation with my arms up in the air. (btw This was after already participating in hours of yoga and meditation). Torture and euphoria. I wanted to let my arms down so bad. I was mofo-ing everything. I focused on my breath. I mofo-ed my breathing. I kept breathing. I asked for help. I kept my arms up. Spirit conquered my mind. I realized my ego would stop at nothing to keep me miserable. I decided it would not win. Bliss.

Now I realize why they were so happy looking.

idk.

fast motion. love potion. making as little noise as possible typing. dont want to wake the neighbors. haters. time to go to bed. but you're still in my head. like a balloon made of lead. floating above me. love me. ski. tried to snowboard once. bruises on my seventh grade knees, butt, wrists and ego. doesn't matter where we go. i just flow. from one moment to the next. trying to get dressed. dressed in non designer clothes. done with rhyming- stick with prose. stick with it. it doesn't get easier. its always something. art of complaints. communion with saints. waiting for it to come out through my hands. maybe it will make sense then. rationalize the abstracts that design my confusion. illusion. perfusion. in unison. applause please.

word association.

I made a new friend. We went to Greenwich point beach today...walked and talked and looked at the water. Drove around and looked at the 8 million dollar houses. Eight is the number of infinity. Infinitely progressing until I'm back where I started. Started as a star. Starring Sarah. Sarah Smile. Smile like you mean it. Mean what you say. Say something. Something's not right. Like a record baby Right round round round. Roundabout logic. Logical legwarmers in neon colors. Color me surprised. To see you here tonight. In my dreams. Dream on. Ongoing ogling that is people watching. I rarely wear a watch. When I do its full of rhinestones. Sedimentary, shale and limestone (rocks). Line the highways of Connecticut (Patheticut). Count the headlights on the highway. High strung. Bee stung. Jellyfish are spineless. Susceptible to mind tricks. Like little kids. Cosmic grids. Mapping my destiny. Will there ever be less of me? Less is more. Do what you came here for. Four square. Playground politics. Homerun derby with a wiffle bat. Bats are creepy. Like vampires and my boss. Criss cross applesauce. Applesauce is mcgnarly. In a derogatory way. Way to go. Going now.

Robots, d-bags, etc.

There were several moments today where my ego tried to convince me that you were wrong and I was right. You're an asshole and I'm perfect. I noticed the assessments and tried not to judge them. Afterall- its my ego's job to formulate these rationalizations to make me feel discrete (not discreet) and abstracted. I can't help that the leaky logic passes over my awake self like a narcissistic rain cloud. It passes, though. I can help that. I breathe in compassion, breathe out attachment. And then, the moment is transformed like a transformer. Yes, a crazy destructive robot (in disguise) becomes a suggestion that I could be paying attention to something else. The only important thing. Breathing. So, my ego thanks you for being such a d-bag. You reminded me to breathe.

Juanes dice todo.

Lost 40$ at the black jack table and my dignity to the text message. It was the red bull margaritas texting.  yuck.  I must say it was exactly what I expected but the opposite of what I wanted. Predictive exposition of semantics perfectly designed to disguise.  Still trying to decipher what has been audaciously apparent since day one.  It's lame. Blackout is imminent and you're pluto to me.  Not even a planet. Just an icy uninhabited rock tagging along the orbit through physics and paramagnetic efforts.  Light years from the sun.  I always wanted to be an astronaut when I grew up, but this is indubitably not what I had in mind. In the words of the genius Juanes- tengo la camisa negra. Hoy mi amor esta en luto.

fender-bender vs. rabble-rouser

Right about now I'm wondering how you still hold a habitat in my encephalon. We've been racing around this mofo-ing universal nascar track for what seems like infinite laps. Orbiting passion, changing out tires of attachment, refilling the whip with adulation.

Will our cars collide someday? Smash together and explode....change form into a sea of flames....unstoppable rapid oxidation that leaves behind our bodies only to expose volcanic ash. We'd leave behind the swagger of our egos and we'd realize we were fashioned of the same protons, neutrons, and electrons. Perhaps then, you'd understand quantum physics. And be capable of a legit authentic interrelation. (Secretly) hoping.

Or will it be the alternate (more likely) ending : Driving parallel for mad laps. Approaching destruction but resisting reform. Kind of like a Republican. Politicians blending in with the hood (wearing camouflage). Delivering saccharine, hollow, standard lines regarding fidelity.

Conclusion: Reality sets in. Accepting what is is not the same as participating in it. Vinidication.

over it and out.