seven days and some minutes.

it has been a long minute since last i wrote here, and much has changed in that long minute.
mentality crashed and found without a place to plant my feet, and so my soul whithered.
now, i find my self waiting upon seven days and some minutes until freedom will have me found on my own - a first.
to be sustainable, to be self-reliant, is something i have long sought yet failed to find and then to flounder - to be caught-up in my own woes.
i stalled my self often and with efficiency.

now, seven days and some minutes.
then, enjoyment of and for the Self.

short, tightly written, and now i egress.

i am alone.

post writin on phone, waiting for internet to make official - june 8th, 12.30-1.00 ante

so, here i sit, having read that semicolons are a bastards tool - im only a partial bastard; so, its admissable. in a bar drunk, sass'd, white bitch'd, hot as ever-living hell, hoping for a saxophonist. white bitches off bike lock keys in the bathroom as the door is attempted to be opened; "Sorry, we were fucking." splurted, what an excuse; white bitch on a bike lock key - protection from theft, i guess. almost out of tobacco, yet i feel i can sustain, excuse me, remain. "i cant believe you did that, shits crystal." (not what you think (totally what i think)) ambient psychedelia and a saxophonist (shes been mentioned) wailing, wail, whaling; expunge that Conscious ocean as if you were a Japo. yeah, racial slurs racial slurs. im told its 11.55 post on the 7th, but i am quite aware thats a lie. (most knowledge is (vindication symplified and unerred) not sure what im typing much anymore) .. posting this anyhow. dig, you honkie, dig.

here are my feet and there i find a road.
today i shall travel from this place and upon said road into the new world;
into my unknown and the Universal soul.

i am beautiful,
you are beautiful,
life is beautiful.

im sitting here,
wishing i could find someone ..
i cant.

not a single soul to say goodbye to.

ive been saved before, im saved once more.

this will be written in haste (in waste) of my soul - - -

trying to be patient
when
all my energy is
committed
to being restless
- - (how antithetical of me)

i find myself
at a loss
    with words
       with words
          with words
             with words
- - (try to forget about the future)
             without words,
          i would then
       never cede what
    thoughts i retain - - -
what thoughts remain
when grandiose societies
force denigrated insecurities
amidst beleaguered Men

to hell with thoughtless following
and reticence at questions posed
within the mind
but never uttered through lips - -

(waste mend)
haste end.

none

i would enjoy conveying the thoughts at present with someone,

anyone,

yet i find myself troubled in that i have no one who might

get it?;

for once -

perhaps the one first time -

i feel others'
existences.

simple to convey in words,
and yet i feel -
to the
very core of the entirety of
my being -
this
conveyed thought

throughout the
entirety
of my known
existence.

reader,
i've run deep into the woods in this time on earth,
never once did i lose my way -
never once -
yet fateful events
befall us all;
we all become lost.

to be lost
is
to be found