the twisted pages

the bent pages. not the kind to let you know where you are at within the book, but the parts and phrases you request yourself to read again at a later time. a lesson learned. a message given.

i pulled up to the stop sign and imagined myself not stopping. slipping quietly into traffic in both directions. the first car hits the front corner of my car, crunching the bummer and headlights deep into the crinkled hood like a passionate hug during a lengthy yet temporary goodbye. the momentary stillness in the violence of the impact allows me to take in the beauty of the sudden decay that has passed upon my vehicle and likely me. the following car and the two other cars that end up involved with the oncoming carcass of metal and plastic exist solely in the unconscious memory of my imagined body. a ghosted story projected from unblinking eyes in the wake of mediocre disaster.

the slip past, the metaphor, the continuation and the support. now quiet ever present education with no teacher. one day we'll burn the pages.

memory whilst cereal test

now this is a story all about how, my life got flip turned upside down and i'd like to take a minute just sit right there i'll tell you how i became a prince of a town called bel aire.... iiiiiin west philadelphia born and raised, on the playground is where i spent most of my days, chillen out maxin relaxin all cool all shootin some b-ball outside of my school when a couple of guys, who were up to no good! startedmakintroubleinmyneighborhood. i got in one small fight and my mom got scared; said 'you're moving with auntie and uncle to bel-air'. i whistled for a cab and when it came near the license plate said 'fresh' and it had a dice in the mirror! if anything i thought that this cab was rare but i thought 'nah forget it, you holmes to bel aire!' i, drove, up to a house around 7 or 8 and i yelled to the cabbie 'yo holmes, smell you later!' looked at my kingdom i was finally there! to sit on my thrown, now the prince of bel-air...

title list

it could be one of the many nicest things anyone has ever done for another and it scares the shit out of me. frightens me silly. rends me unusable for the greater good. i could sweep you off of your feet but i can't use my legs to lift because being afraid has sullied them. i took a chance, i'll take another. you took a stand, and you'll probably take another. if we don't look at time in a cyclical fashion we're already together, because eventually that no will turn to a maybe. and then that maybe to a kinda-sorta. and then finally the day where you won't have to say yes but i'll know it anyways and we'll begin again with the next stage, even though i'll probably be already there. nice'n slow, easy turbo, downshift... but you revved harder, i got more afraid and lost more control and slipped loudly into oblivion.

('scraped infinity'.... shudders with joy and echoing envy)

no charm in the mix and no foul in the call, fuel in the tank and the genuine approaches and responses ready to pull out and surge forward.

defiantly define

hither to and wonder where, captured and contained within this hidden snare, vanquished the curse that stripped me bare, courageous now and no more careful fare, the maze and the path just over there, hwtbsts stare, look at me now look at me care, it's not about the end it's just about the air.