luxdivon

are you here? i'm here. do you see? i see the void and the free. everything soon becomes a test of soul. or lack thereof. it's entirely difficult to ward off ego leanings when it wants to say, here i am, look at me, here i am. there you have it. the soulfullness is gone, and all is left is the grasping, gravelling, of the abyss of something that keeps eating your heart out. its great when again and again and again, i'm cycling through continuous streams of the same old shit, record on repeat, everything's dead like gravel, and business suits, and SUV's and the news. but then suddenly, like rumi said, walk out, like you were sudddenly born into color. something is said, something you hear, and you're like. that. that brings me back to the here and now, and i hear all the beautiful sounds, and all the ugly sounds, and my sight has set full spectrum to many colors, and not just black and white. at least i want something now. its hard to get out of bed in the morning when there's nothing you can admit to giving a shit about. i realize that being so enthused in life, is kicking some other habits backwards, to make up for my lack of self sabotage and self annihilation. i've been eating like shit. you name it. queso and a bag full of chips. cookie dough. a box full of brownies. luckily your body reacts to that eventually, and you're like dude, give me a carrot. yea its all the same thing. if i have money, let me spend it. if i dont have money, give me something sweet, fattening and only momentarily satisfying. or dont give me that, but give me hours upon hours of sleep, with my alarm going off too many times, and i really dont want to think about the fact that i actaully have to get out of bed eventaully. or give me some boy toy, that'll never care, but damn that sex is good, maybe i'll have it just one more time. its a disease, this pit of desire, that burns and burns, but its like fire, it just needs more paper to destroy, to fill the void, because in this fucked up way, for just a moment it feels like home. or maybe it just feels good. it feels safe, and warm, and free, and getting there the real way is so much harder isnt it. there's a million ways to say the same thing. i've got that pull to be a villian, and to find another way to cover up that hole in my soul, that keeps asking me to fill it with love, and laughter and good times. luckily i know everybody's got a vice, everybody's got a hole in their soul too, because we're human, and being suddenly born into color, into being here, is a talent, and doenst come easy, but it sure is nice when you're here, and you feel like you're living for once.
My Musical Musings