Amassing a larger amount of work seems to be my downfall
Staring and looking at this huge construct.
This pile of work, this wall.
This thing that looms over me and makes me shudder to edit it through..
since everyday, I seem to aspire to write something new.
This toil in my mind, this need to confess to paper.
This idea in my head, this overtly inspired mental caper.
Drive me insane with my fingers whirring away.
Drive me loosely and hard through this everyday.

Cats cross my path, I care not the color or shade.
Since superstition is something that can always fade.
Amassing this library of work into my everyday life.
This work, which I would probably consider my true wife.
this part of me, that completes me, this part of me that's free.
this part of my inner workings by this twisted subculture reality.
Confessing my thoughts and dreams.
Ripping it all apart at the seams.
Sometimes the dreams of the world.
The blurry dream of just that perfect girl.
The life always unsung, the life of the unknown.
the ways lost, and then one day shown.
Amass this pile of memories and dreams.
Let the sunlight inspire your mental moonlights beams.
Let it drift into a pile, for you to know is only yours alone.
even if it's considered by the masses
to be.
Shit.

01/16/2002

Posted on 01/16/2002
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