tenpercentme

I felt like the last entry wasn't enough. So here is old writing...


null(Voice of A.B.)

There is always dirt beneath the grass,
for knees to dig into.

I stay away from artificial shit.
and concrete shit, with all of the inflexibility.

I like the dirt.

The inviolability of the dirt is inspiring.

Nothing you can do to make it feel bad about itself.

Dirt has no memory. Dirt has no hope.

I am in love with the existence of a woman.
I am in love with the hatred she possesses.
I am in love with the impossibility of hope.
I am in love with my own thin frame.
I am in love with the saliva dripping from her chin.
I am in love with 24 different frames of her every second.

She is a million different positions.

She will never know that part of me
she reveals.
But I do, know now,
she reveals the dirt beneath the grass,

the force, the will

to lead, to control

to gag, to suffocate

to howl, to blow

my own diseases creeping from beneath my sleeves.

She is the anti-wife.
The despised and depersonified in my mind.

I think I met her once, Blue Ashley.
The light was bright, and I could hardly see,
coming out of the darkness as I was.
I loved her with all my lack of memory.
All my freshness,
and needs and wants and so free,
I gripped her skin like a handful of hair.

I daydream
I gripped her hand and raised her above
the doldrums
of the earth
to the heights
of her worth
less acts
and sticky
words.

Fuck her mouth
I want to hear her curves.

Fuck her words
I want to taste her burns.

Fuck her.

I want to love her
for her
and lift her up too.

This is a pose.

I dont care if the crew
is watching.

I dont care if the truth
is coming.

My love for you is so superficial and true
I cant help but think I want you.

Take me to a picnic basket
and twenty other men
and Ill film you fucking
half of them
and kill the other ten.

You know there was an African ritual. . .
they throw the young boys in the hut
one at a time, with the girl, virginal,
and when the last boy comes,
they knock the foundation from beneath
the structure, and set the motherfucker
to burn
the last young boy and the virgin.

Who is a virgin burning?

I taste her right before Im consumed.

Is it fair to ask me to meet me?

I just want to please me and
forget about the real me.

I don't want to discover the divinity.

There is no Jesus in me,
that I can see.

Just disease.

So I am running towards my own deprivation,
It is easy to find it in one of these
people around me.


Where have all the porn stars gone?

The sun is dim, and shadows are hardly cast
on these city streets.

Pornogray.