NTZ's blog: "A Return Of Thought"

Things might not be good.

Again he's writing.

They must be fighting.

Over there lightning.

Thunder.

They storming.

Clouds already forming.

Rain forever falling.

I bet she's crying.

I bet he's.

Over there wishing he was dying.

Suicidal thoughts flying.

Hovering.

Over them.

Like the relationship.

Weighs a ton.

Never can get a grip to hold on.

Maybe they're close to being done.

So she can slip in and try to get some.

Then try to get love.

And try to get hugs and maybe if she's lucky she can try to get fucked.

Or maybe just fucked up.

What's that in the cup?

Over there where the hair stays nappy.

Laying in the bed for days, not napping.

Cover by the covers like a tent, he's camping.

Fire burning inside he cant resist, he's mapping.

All of his feelings in one direction.

Like erections.

Masturbating sessions.

Bleeding, infections.

Phone, there's a message.

Video, this is what the kids call sexting.

Put on the bluetooth, no need for texting.

Whispers in the ear, you hear?

You came?

I'm near.

I fear i'm addicted.

We can meet so i can get my dick in.

Evicted, leaving that pussy.

I'm missing.

Like I am to my friends,

I speak they dont listen.

Guess you cant be missed when you dont even exist.

I'm no pessimist, I just piss a fucking mist.

 

 

Well that was fun...

 

...just a bunch of bullshit floating around.  I'm like searching again I guess. The creating has been put on hold and i'm not sure how to get it back started. Hard to even look at myself sometimes.  I had a talk about that once with someone I would love to say i'm still close with but i'm not sure anymore about thing with anyone that has been in my life.  It's just a bunch of people I know.  I know how I feel about them.  They probably dont know.  Probably dont want to know.  Probably shouldn't know but guess part of me thinks there should be more than it is.  Yet the problem is me.  I'm the loner. Anyway, not liking what you see in the mirror.  That's what was talked about with this person.  I'm back to not liking.  I'm going to continue to grow out my hair just because I'm growing up to be a bum anyway. Might as well look like one.

 

On ever situation my mind change.  No consistency present in my brain. So watch what you say, and what you do.  I may present you with something brand new.  Maybe give you the old with new view.  Maybe blackout in the rear view, leaving things backwards or present it as a preview.  Give you a chance to save yourself like give a clue of the puzzle that exist so we can solve before we dissolve. Fade away or decompose. This isnt all that we have but its becoming all that we chose. So the love is in question as the distance grows.  In this instance is a nose of the bad that is to come. Leaving us to answer the questions, are we happy?  Having fun? Are we done? I'm saying this to family, friends, and all.  Because they reminisce over you, my gawd.

 

I dont know.  My mind is just left to itself. For the better I guess.

 

There is a mirror.

That is what he speaks to.

Only thing that listens.

Only thing not fiction.

He sings, naked.

Bastard, a misfit.

Fat gut, small dick.

Thinking of these bitches.

Singing his life.

He's right, cant get it.

In the right position.

For it to mean something.

Breathing is nothing.

Breathing means nothing.

Living is a curse.

Bleeding is working.

So he cuts himself in the evening before working.

Only thing he feels, that's not hurting.

Down in his puddle there drunk, burping.

PUKE...

 

 

...this ends the freeing of my mind.