Preserved Topic: 355 ML at a time. (Page 1 of 1)

Today is Saturday.
It's approximately 5:00 pm.

The sun still sits a fair amount above it's advasary - the horizon.
I'm just finishing my first beer of the evening, and I am opening the second when I finish this sentence.

The barcode on the back of my neck seems larger lately. Not sure why. It does though.
My skin is dripping off of my tired bones. It's leaving them exposed to the elements.
The air is a poison. It's burns my bones that are being more exposed by the minute.
The pain.
The trust.

There are 352 thornes in my right shoulder. I needn't count them. I needn't look at them. They are there.
I know they are.
Perhaps I should cast a glance in that vicintiy to discover which direction the thornes are facing.

Everything I can see when I look up... is the same as what I see when I look down.
I'm in some sort of melting pot in the middle. Boiling. Burning.

While my mind keeps me here... my mind is what's taking me elsewhere.
My own decay is already catching up to me. It started long ago. I must have somehow chosen to ignore it.

My own ignorance has brought me here.

- I could go on and on. But there's no real point. Most of you will not understand my ramblings.
- I felt like being heard... that's all.
- Not for attention. But for the sake of being heard.



[This message has been edited by taxon (edited 06-30-2001).]

I don't understand your ramble... but understanding is not necessary, only to listen and let you know I did. Take care.

Thank you. Take comfort though that ignorance may draw you to a conclusion however to acknowledge this is not ignorance but revelation. Listen to A Perfect Circle's "Orestes"...."One more medicated peaceful moment..." Beautiful.

As always, a complete lack of help,

J

netmosisdotcalm n. - from latin netmosisusdotuscalmus - fuck it all.

[This message has been edited by netmosis (edited 07-02-2001).]