random fantasy tangent stemming from the idea of "unnamed sadness"
We slept and woke in the midwest for weeks. I took a basement apartment below the mountains and skyscrapers same thing makes no difference and stayed there ringing my hands around my wrists and fumbling for a lighter in the dark. On the surface I felt a habitual stabilization from the routine of coffee shops and Camel No. 9's and great works of literature. A sunny day where you can see the rays does much to push depression underground. Despite this, there was a looming uneasiness ballooning inside of my soul and I knew then that there was an ever-present sadness which would go unnamed in the darkness of that basement apartment. All that was left was to long for the day when I would hold her hand tight and she pressured bruises into my muscles and screamed and screamed. On that day we would find a joy to carry into a brand new sunshine. Feel justified in the suppression of those black balloons which had started in the soul and floated off aimlessly into our stomachs. They always float aimlessly. Move away from a sadness that can't be named and into a joy so explicit that you can write it on a birth certificate, a joy to guide purposefully into a future and away from a tragic bounded past.
also, i had these ideas for stories. someone (capital, fatality) should write them, as i am incapable...
a glowing boy bible salesman who falls in love
a mountain climber who makes it to the top of the mountain and then commits suicide.
driving to colorado in two days. readying cowboy hat, sunglasses, marlboro reds, mustache.
We slept and woke in the midwest for weeks. I took a basement apartment below the mountains and skyscrapers same thing makes no difference and stayed there ringing my hands around my wrists and fumbling for a lighter in the dark. On the surface I felt a habitual stabilization from the routine of coffee shops and Camel No. 9's and great works of literature. A sunny day where you can see the rays does much to push depression underground. Despite this, there was a looming uneasiness ballooning inside of my soul and I knew then that there was an ever-present sadness which would go unnamed in the darkness of that basement apartment. All that was left was to long for the day when I would hold her hand tight and she pressured bruises into my muscles and screamed and screamed. On that day we would find a joy to carry into a brand new sunshine. Feel justified in the suppression of those black balloons which had started in the soul and floated off aimlessly into our stomachs. They always float aimlessly. Move away from a sadness that can't be named and into a joy so explicit that you can write it on a birth certificate, a joy to guide purposefully into a future and away from a tragic bounded past.
also, i had these ideas for stories. someone (capital, fatality) should write them, as i am incapable...
a glowing boy bible salesman who falls in love
a mountain climber who makes it to the top of the mountain and then commits suicide.
driving to colorado in two days. readying cowboy hat, sunglasses, marlboro reds, mustache.
fatality:
Simpsons