I am afraid of speed Take two (Experiment)

The road is empty. We get back on the main. I did not notice.
Road after taking the wrong turn. the breath of on my face.

You press the gas.rooftop sky.
Found on the end of the road I was looking at 10 seconds ago.
the fear we would always die.

Stop. I am tired. sidewalk.
In that case we may return. I did not notice the faces that will notice me.

I do not want to return. In a hole.
I still want to go. I can't take speed. In a whole in you.

I never was one to lose control. you not being there at all.
I never was one to let things out of my hands, a crack in the wall
except when it was not up to my hands.

I want it slow because it goes so fast. the fire still burning down on me.
I want it fast only when I have had too much to drink. a hole in you.
I want it fast when there is no one else. not real, not true, not me, not you

Yet I want the control, I want to win when I lose when I look it is all I see

and I want to adore, adore Life.

Love of scratch (Take 1)

To love the scratch means to love the freedom of blank.

To come to the end and start again to me it means so much.

So much as the sound of the next word that will come to my fingertips uninvited

so much as the vowels and consonants kiss each other when I tell them to.


It is my passion, I forget it and leave it and it haunts me back again

it is a lover I cannot escape and a lover that makes everything terrestrial to forsake...


The passion of people meeting with each other and their sounds and meanings making a new meaning like these very words hanging out tonight on a white screen of black symbols.

The meeting after a long time becomes even more passionate and lustful

and I give you a stupid stupid metaphor to describe the noesis that

some of us desire to experience as we travel,
travel,
travel and long
to see further than this horizon...

utter

To utter,

You are in a room. You live with the objects of the room. You take it for granted that the objects of the room are supposed to be in the room. Like you take for granted of a metaphor.

Because we are supposed to know what transfer means.To transfer the meaning onto something else that looks like it in a simpler or untold (of) way. You take it for granted because it is there in language and thus it has been said. But it has not.

And so I choose, in an afternoon when I do not remember whether I have slept really or not,or spend the night with eyes closed without escaping to a world of unsconsiousness to consciously get out of the room.

I hover over it. And look at the objects that are alike and those are supposed not to exist or to exist because we demand that they do. I quiver at loss and am enthuzed by birth. I hover over. Over the room and over sleep.

I utter simple words in search of utter...pleasure or achievement.

Whether pleasure in achievement or achievement in my pleasure I figured it does not really matter, so long as I am blessed to hover over ...

and that allows me to relish in the utter...

an adjetive that may fit everything...

when you cannot see your heart

Haha...No...Let not go...To lose it means you played.

The play YOU choose. hey and the outcome, too, NO, Two.

The words are small tonight, the words are tiny. The heart is shrunk,

the heart forgets, No, the brain does, the heart hurts.

It hurts it hurts to speak to be for being means the heart in pain is reality.

Believe the brain you shall forsake disdain then you must sell your soul

to another Play, and the words shall come closer to console

but you must lose for momentary loss shall be your saviour

to believe the Heart

and when you cannot see your heart tells your brain what to show your eyes...