Let The Dog Die

...and in the end it will all fade away. And in the end the darkness will creep unto an undesireable projection. to witness the guilt, to place the blame, an unworthy soul like myself can never really feel as most feel. I cry sometimes for the gift of sight and taste; to be able to laugh in symphony with the gluttonous bloated entrails of the gallows humor. The curtains begin to rise to reveal the bloodshed. The pit vibrato to the pitch of the audience gasping at the horror on stage. It's me, naked little me standing in the spotlight with one hand covering up my penis and my other hand raised in a left-turn signal fashion. "...Hi".

I left the dog lying still with no goodbye, no mental rememberance. I walked into the dark field to feel the mist on my face and to let the moon paint my skin in transparent shades of white. The condensation that left my mouth and nostrils floated and dispersed to passivly seek the next gasping lungs. How could I had followed any path when none were ever visible? I walked through the thick brush, winding my way through the pines and furs cushioned by the gray needled carpet. The chained moon finally broke through the fortified canopy of pine cones and clouds as I neared the cliff over-looking the land. A deep slow pulling of air into my mouth, letting it all swirl softly over my tongue and down the back of my throat. The stillness of the cold winter night, the stone warmth of the moon layed my eyes bare on the object in my arms. The outstretched arms of my dog laid still, with his fur around the neck puffed out and moist with frost. I stroked the fur and stared back into his black dilated eyes hoping to catch a glimpse of life to say 'i'm sorry for nothing'. The bagagge became too heavy to bear and the dog dropped into the crystal snow, into the cold white grave. No last look, no last tears as I walked back to the lonely home. I left the dog lying still with no goodbye, no mental remembrance.

Ever get the feeling that you understand the concept feeling for each situation, but you aren't able to really feel it. It's a view from the outside looking in. I think I have dwelled too much into this, and unfortunatly I have almost forgetten what it is to feel true emotions. Sometimes I have to run to a mirror to see what facial expression I am wearing. Instead of seeing what my hair looks like or if I have toothpaste dribble still, I touch my own flesh, my own lips to feel the frown or smile I wear. Dress it up, right, plot its course as I walk through a crowd of people that I would hate to show anything different from the norm. 'Why are you upset Jon? What's wrong?' The sacrifice isn't worth it anymore.

Squeezing through the opening, harder and harder each time. The hole is smaller and smaller as I travel through life not linearly, but through loops. I push my way through the closing hole only to reappear in the same spot as the last time it had happened. No advancement on my part, just letting go of the will to use my human birth as an intellectual means. I have found everything I could ever hope for, or rather not hope for, but I have searched for a long long time and in this life I have been granted 'vision'. As I get older, I see that I only possess the 'vision' but nothing more, no tool (understandment) of how to use the 'vision'. I am glad on that latter part actually, because I want the 'vision' to work naturally, just a part of my character and soul. I will not advance this lifetime, especially with my shit attitude towards almost everything. I'm already dreaming, I just need to close my eyes.



xero blogged on 1/24/2005 10:43:00 PM


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Czechs need to watch re-runs of Captain Planet. Testing out picture options for this blog.


xero blogged on 1/23/2005 06:04:00 PM


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Fuck You for being the dawn I awoke to. Fuck You for the trickery, the clouds and rain that hide your own light. Fuck You for giving me the ongoing nightmares. Fuck You for being the nightmare I attach myself to. Fuck You for slipping your hand away when I needed you most. Fuck You for trying to make me feel human again. Fuck You for pushing me down when I was accused by you for being out of my mind (because I had the 'truth inside'). Fuck You for never listening to me. Fuck You for not believing that I know the future already. Fuck You for being atheist, or agnostic, or whatever the fuck it means to not see any point in striving to live life on all possible planes of existence.

Flip it, Rip it up, Push the stuffing inside outside. Exposure, assured.

Fuck Me for chasing emotions and really understanding their importance. Fuck Me for being content with the world doing what it likes to me as I sit idle in the corner. Fuck Me for wanting. Fuck Me for listening to people telling me I have a purpose. Fuck Me for messing up that purpose and feeling that there is no more hope in this lifetime. Fuck Me for waiting for death so I can live this shit all over again. Fuck Me for thinking next time I will actually start to try. Fuck Me for believing these lies.

And they will come for us all in due time, flipping us over, ripping us up, exposing our mortal being to our immortal spirit. We all will be exposed, assured.



xero blogged on 1/22/2005 11:52:00 AM


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