Notebook 024

Literate Disonancy
Journal Entry: Fri Jan 27, 2006, 12:34 AM


I had intentions I can't recall (at some point, I'm sure I must have told you I never wanted this voicing). Unknown to me, yet still exploited with virgin curiosity for euphoria; wide eyed and narcotic martyrs beckoned my part-time procrastinatory fashion. These post-its will stick forever. I wish I'd have made something a little more presentable from tangibles of your silken words. Like a crucifix. Lost in the velocity I yearned for, my feet were snapped at the joints. Red-ringed and black I could never scream but at least my hands were warm and nails broken. Webbed in the masquerade I created, I sold my fingertips to a melted plastic man, sustained in consideration. Gaining my losses for a way arse-first way forward. The shit had long ago hit the fan my friend. Smother. She smilied in confused pleasure. Idols died in front of audiences cold for a warm-up pre-show. We never did understand the finale, but we never got the t-shirt free. How quickly their laces broke. How hard their eyes grew to yellow. Softly, stomachs turned into floors. No one ever escaped intact. An all I got was another voice in my head.