%%USERNAME%%    %%ACCWORDS%% %%ONOFF%% |
 |  Neurodivergent here. All the disgusting things I do or think on display. Wail away. |
|
You don’t like it. I get it. Be truthful. Be honest with yourself. I had to be. And this is fair, make more rules to punish/negate rather than acknowledge/celebrate because fences, around obstacles surround trees climbing cliffs to secret clubs amid whispered oaths…with fingerpaint, koolaid and cellophane sammies in dad-built, small houses. Good with it and a 1,000,000 more reasons to yet whip out that sheathed numbered plastic after x years in negation. Good. I said good. Like Nostra-dumbass, written by my dim light. Some of you? No?? Nevermind. You have…enlightenment and couldn’t be more wrong to cast shadows. If you are put out with me, maybe, one day, I can offer a note from my doctor(s). This is semi-(im)pertinence. I make poor choices. Get regrets. But, as I age, the less I’ll care. Make…these words…you provoked…with a simple bullet…’if you don’t like it…’ The hole that passes through my soul you feel, adjust for, again and again. That’s why safe is not a good choice (for me), anymore. Risks with words, with a measure of aim, seek reward. Not here. No, never. I’ll apply myself, listen for their confusion…why…again…(not) him? Why do we do this? Are we good yet? How ‘bout now? Now, right? Yeah, you say we’re good… People like me can waste a lot of time cutting through the b.s. How can I know what you mean, if you won’t say what you mean? Observant, not sexist to say, it’s mostly women. Guys just trash talk, smear. Each is passive-aggressive in their own way. Sooo…. Short termers are feeding into what the long termers structure for short gain, while robbing our own privileges of promised freedoms... and you just believed them?!  let me think about that.  modern day counter culture turning back the clock with no hour hands, as society sent to an acidic bath of primordial ooze. workshopping that. |
| I believe I was in the process of contributing to the ghost towns. Static item deletions begin when I return to uploading on my google DocX. — just so you don’t expend too much energy on my account. You don’t give me enough credit. Ironic. Should have kept me in the loop. I’m loyal to a fault, but require one thing: full disclosure to what I sign up for. I see your skin caught in the game’s machination. Cringe. Sorry. Again, talk to me. Either that or block me. I’m a human not your appliance.  4.28.24 My words are neither defense nor offense; merely, informed thought that can apply to others. And, don’t want to upset the little ones. Even after death, a strong echo could be heard. Imagine if I believed I was alive? Shhh, it’s alright. As you lay me down. Even after death, a strong echo could be heard. Imagine if I believed I was alive? Shhh, it’s alright. As you lay me down.   |
| The Inhumanity Of Response Help me turn my brain off. Go bother someone else. Will you help me turn my brain off? Find someone else to bug. Help, my brain…please turn off. As if. Help me. I can’t turn my brain off. I could hit you. That would make me feel better. Help. Brain. Won’t turn off. Help. Moron. Won’t leave us alone. Help, I can’t turn off my bra-ain. Oh, you poor, ignorant thing. Nope. Tried. Sorry. Help me; my brain won’t stop. And how does that make you feel? Try drugs. Help, my brain just keeps going. Uh-huh. Oh, you’re still here? I’ll move. Help me turn off my brain. Help me? Hello? This is your conscience. No. Someone know how to shut off my brain? I can get ammo…oh, never mind. My brain keeps running. Have you tried rebooting? Call tech support. My brain is in an eternal loop sequence with never ending… You’ve got the wrong number. *click* Help me? Brain. Thing. No stop. Don’t…be…a…baby? Help me. My brain won’t turn off. What a bother. Do you believe this guy? I’m going to lay waste to the earth! Did somebody hear something? My brain won’t defuse; particle accelerator is real. You’ve seen that movie, too? Oh, you?? Not awesome. Help me; my brain won’t shut off. Who invited the giant creep? Please leave. Help my brain still computing. Need help. What do you expect me to do? Infernal-loop-brain restructuring me into AI-informed killing machine. I had that problem once. It goes away. Help, brain trapped like a refrigerator with its door open. You need to close it? Duh. I can’t control brain…it…oh, quiet. Wait…for…ittttt…. My brain keeps repeating and re-computating. Please help? Nah. I’m good. Help me? My brain. That thing keeps happening. Are you taking your meds? Tried mindfulness? No one will help me with my brain. Help? You again. Where’s a hot drink when you need it? Scram! My brain won’t stop. Help me shut it off. How much money you got? No? How ‘bout a wood bat? My brain hurts from overthinking. How do I stop? You just do. Duh, again. My brain won’t stop and no one will help. You’re a big guy. How’s that help? No one likes a complainer, then? Nothing compels to help my addled brain. Sucks to be you. Bye. Can you soothe my aching mind? I need a break. Why didn’t you ask? I did. Like a thousand times. Hmm, what? Shh, my show’s on. Kids. Will you kill me? Mom said not to. Oh, but not just yet. Can someone massage…never mind. What’s on tv? I’ll stream. Dumb down to one-cell amoeba. I’ll be one of you. How long was that? Can someone please tell me… NO!!! (Go bother someone else. Shut the door. He’s bumming me out. Why is he so dense? Doesn’t listen to my advice. We have more important things… Just ignore him. Yeah, but it doesn’t work.) *looks* *hears dialogue* Persistence versus resistance wins…negativity. Hard to stay quiet long enough to be noticed. Can’t utter fake, hollow phrases… how-ww areee youu-uuh?! Actually, doesn’t care about anything but purpose for roaming mind, sending scattered, unassembled images into the universe, constantly repeating, reforming, eternal, until brain…just…stops… But no…not even a little pleasant diversion because…too intense…stoopid…pathetic…bothersome…uninteresting…inhuman….the inhumanity of response. Fingers tire long before the skull. Then what?! 11.18.23 7:02 a.m. no meds yet 11.30.23 edits, mostly for punctuation, grammar Can someone do something about the audio? My newsfeed voice isn’t reaching the world. Right to future revision…can do better…my brain certainly isn’t going to stop…but has all kinds of sideways in every direction…not so much circuitous or boomerang but bouncing from every corner, whack-a-mole style. Can someone do something about the audio? My newsfeed voice isn’t reaching the world. Echo Echo Echo Echo. |
| Honoring the dead Honouring ourselves reincarnate, never die white angels hover above me watch me dreaming, scheming in slow suffication, no choice but to become one with you, harpooned, flop-deck-fish-hauled reel me, reel me, harder, harder from that depth like a man who harvests souls collects the essence, shucks the husk of a simpleton with no clothes you say slippery, hard to hold when i'm dead, when i'm dead what worth, what worth after i'm gone? 9.24.23 just off the cuff hate me BECAUSE i'm beautiful you can't have my SOUL not for you, ps I'm better than they made me I just don't know it yet. So, here's your chains back. I believe I have a deposit? No? No. What worth am I? for contextual purposes: "THE Upper Crust"  |
| What if truth was a coin and you only had to pick one side? Do you know your heads from your tales? let’s play around with the truth you don’t know me you know things about me selectively only what you want to learn BUT, ignore what doesn’t fit in your frame now I’m over here who moved me into the corner? how do I get here? I’ll let you inspect what is circumspect you might not like the answers I call truth perspective not part of your narrative sits on my side of the table is that gum under here? 5.27.23 big, Big, BIG conspiracy theorist for chasing after truth head-bagged, hauled out of its home in the middle of the night the children always wondered if dad had run out on them, a betrayer, or was mom the enemy? and other psycho babble let’s discredit ourself by being self-deprecating because we know what lies therein from the absence of truth puzzles are more easily deconstructed see the picture on the box constructing word puzzles in the middle of the night |
| Kidney Shots Bullies need kidney shots Be ready to run But I know This is not done I hide Bide my time Aware of friendly Strangers Aware where it’s safe Out in the open Who fights dirty? Amid new friends Not at my back When I see my tormentor I was brought to you Unholy. No mercy Once bled Never again Bullies need groin kicks You get one shot Don’t hover that heap Friends aren’t far away Since the first schoolyard day Until the last sunset Aware I’m alone Aware what body blows do Having experienced Since the first bully Is it Me? Let’s see, shall we? 5.14.23 Plucksome mood, gravitating higher. With or without, I’m with my tormentor always, thankful for being driven to aimless heights, pointless outcomes, to get through life with purpose like a Truth vigilante. Not meaning to expose the bullies but my right to co-exist…fairly. It’s your failure when the world dehumanizes to give bullies justification for actions and reactions. It’s about: plausible deniability. Me: it’s all about plausible deniability, am I right? Bully: what’s that? Me: exactly. Does that make me smug? So be it. Not my first rodeo, not the first narrative I couldn’t control. DocX |
| Having Swooped I fly into your fan fly into your fan into your fan I fly toward your fan. I fly toward you a swoon, swoop after I flew breathing still inhale swoop, swoon in a fragrant redness in tender tulips arrival I re-arrived by flying to your fan to your fan into the window fan swoop from limb to feeder swoop, swoon swallow in red clumps hit the glass fell, survive you ask why won’t I die? I fly… 5.14.23 Coda: a rehash with perspective you ask for more I comply Fail Retry Rest Not dead, yet…? Who’s the fool? 99 times, me? Math is not subjective does not yield to external factors unless outcomes are fixed like clear glass truth subjectively hides on your side 5.14.23 further yet: you can point to a still breathing bird amid returning flowers in red mulch and question. it’s a projection of ignorance, delusion and undeniable result when a plucky bird regroups once it lifts to that limb on the tree outside your home. Cue a thousand of us: Hitchcock film. |
| Once bitten, thirty-two times chewed. Easily digestible. No time. I’ll drink my lunch. Now I’m not shy, but bit. I can easily quit, view their spectacle at the trough. 5.9.23 30 words, free verse I made it up. So what? ▼ |
| Another poem not fully realized…lifecabd stuff, you know? In the past 15 seconds my brain has deceived me, it leads me, denies me full access to its process that I can’t fully retrace footprints of a stained brain where I store thoughts, like memories in a short frame, few store in that microprocessor, the visual instability, continuously bombarded in a stable realm, home, but to the excruciating excitement of the long ride, to park, walk from lots to airport, tickets, luggage, scan and scan and scan and wand — jog terminals, scan, plane, cram, overhead and cram, and squirm and cram and plop. smells and cries and starvation before the steel cart cuts a swath, crush hard biscuits’ flavor crammed in the jutted crevices, suck and suck, sip and savor a soda nursed, juggle waste and waste time, finally collected from ascent, distorted mechanical dialogue, to descent, clutch, hold, hang on, then wiggle and wobble, tow and toddle and un-tuna-can, pained legs abide, to the spun luggage, head spins the spun carousel, until identified, snatch and grab and haul a lot in a human jam, to rental lot, vehicle, choose, but route map to destined vacay rental, turn key, blow hair back, where brain and me truly get lost, navigate highway, dull scenery, 15 times infinity in a spin, when red rock towers, cactus flowers, cicadas hum, windows down in small town and stop at a dry river bed, lug and roll behind the cottage. Luggage contents in strategic locations and place my lot by the sink, night stand. we eat, drink wine, I feign relax and to bed strange, mattress a strange world in stranger fabric not cotton. How many divisions of 15 endured, 15 more, 15 more, 15 more. Count goes night long. I hold on. String it together, retrace steps. But, will I remember where I am, who I am, the warm woman lying next to me by morn. 15 seconds is a lot from here to there. Despair. I set a foot forward, toward a nook, turn back. Look at her form, wonder if I can ask. What got me here? My motivation? How divest an anxious soul on sweet vacation. And not spoil this for her, mated travel companion, so near a hopeful canyon. The chasm inside a space just like synapses in a slow brain, breaking speed records without trace. Snapshots. Pose and point and look back on it. 15 seconds, one year later, I frown at the sight of it. Every moment dust brain speed to that red vortex and never reappeared. 4.30.23 https://www.sciencealert.com/to-help-us-see-a-stable-world-our-brains-keep-us-15... A book is coming…I keep telling myself…as all kinds of arbitrary deadlines near & pass…like blaring traffic. So, there’s that. |
| Theorems of a mind in deficit Dear Professor, a beautiful thing asymmetry accepted, but rivaled and unequal to your grandeur of utopian visions fed Yet bits of encrypted data that leaks these lips, dull replies for your patented affirmations of ‘perfect’ what ideals i ideate i create on the fly not from my ass but brain simmering about to boil messier than any pot atop a staining stove bake this in your conventional oven I’ll wait did I get the recipe right? Chef? Dinner for one, again I know it wasn’t cake I tried to make A tender flake with love created I’ll savor Signed, Your Professor 5.2.23 Edit later? What the…?? |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
