INTENT:
Mostly word vomit tbh haha
Tallman State Park smoke spot, mid fall, Piermont 2021
The confidence of my youth has been shed, and yet the confidence of my adulthood has not seem to have moved into its space. The confidence I had in my youth may have been misguided but it allowed me safe passage forward, like a lockpick for my own home because I was not given a key yet. Dangled in front of me in promise of pursuit and knowledge but I stand here at 33 with no key and no lockpick set.
I have the combinations to a few bike locks around town, at my office, in some remedial tasks in the garden shed, behind the computers power supply. I hope I can find my master key soon, the stuff behind those doors are getting dusty.
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I wanted to keep this one in its original tumblr format for some reason, and highlight my unapologetically favorite tag I've ever used, also if you look up my tumblr I will kill you:
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I want to know what its like. I want to wait for that series of moments right before a thunderstorm when the sky becomes the colors of the walls in a dismal office building. And when that happens. When the light of the sun creates that misty shadowy atmosphere through those clouds on the trees in the dense lush forest behind our minds, we can drink to our hearts desires and obsess about how unapologetically beautiful and mystical those green colors emanating from within, truly are
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The pale and tired light fluttered between the dancing leaves, projecting itself onto the table before them. Skin was melting off the muscle and bone of their bodies, the cold was unbearable. Nothing was said as memories crumbled into a heap on the floor as emotion swirled around them in a frenzy largely ignored by those seated. Crows picked the muscle clean off their bodies, blood long since dried up. Bathing in that pale light offered no warm embrace, it would soon be over.
Nothing forever.
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An orange circle, a cheap Craigslist coffee table, a phone bill reduced by half, the blue and gray dots printed on a box of tissues, the smell of the bathroom just after showering, the cavity of spacetime you used to frequent, a battery bag of old vapes to recycle, the key holder painted yellow, my fading neural paths.
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It’s rather unfair that I am at the mercy of my preferences, I fear my inability to change what I like, it feels like it just is, no way around that. I try to find beauty and love in everything but there are core things I can’t seem to get around with sheer willpower. Why am I like this, I just want to love and be attracted to everything, no holds barred. I want to be burdened with how much love I have to give to everything. Crushed under the weight of my own emotion. And yet, I will always betray myself and gently pull myself out from under it all at the last moment.
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I feel like I am used goods. Not first, not second, not third, not even fourth hand. My edges worn, my gear teeth eroded, no recognizable shape or form to fit into the puzzle anymore. I persist surely, I have earned that right, but to mean something in the grand scheme, I am not so sure anymore, at least in certain ways that I think matter to me. I do not like this game anymore, and I’m not quite sure I ever did. Maybe I am my own complete entity despite a feeling of missing or absence.
I fear time could hone me back into a recognizable shape, carve distinction and desire back into my form, but by then, my bones will be more brittle, my energy easier to deplete, and my essence closer to dispersion into mother nature’s arms. I fear hearing the phrase “I wish I had met you sooner, I wish we had more time” in my head, for these are regrets I would carry painfully till the end, if and only if given the chance
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