Saturday, May 14, 2016


i am sick, hence, i may stay in bed forever. it was a mistake not starting life off this way. from now on, i am to do nothing as such is expected of the sick. surrounding me is the known- such is all i cannot swallow, digest. so sick am i forever may i stay in bed, attended or unattended to.
this is an encouragement acknowledged. too, is it an explanation- not an excuse- why i am not doing what others are doing. in order to stay in bed forever, i will take measures in making sure nothing about me is to remind others of themselves ever again. when i am to pretend to hear them talk, i will eat junk.
others have not been able to see themselves in me unless i take what i can get, which i will search for until i find it. this feeling will seem horrifying to them- to look into a reflection and see nothing except that which they cannot get back, regretting they did not "love" it more.
they will not be able to see in me except that which they will not be given back. this aspect will be missing in everyone they see from now on.

they may want to seek me as a consort in order to learn to move forward.
without my heart, i have offered protection to those unwanting of their hearts by jealously gutting and eating their hearts.
without my caring, i give guidance to those who care who wish not to care.
the company of others remind me of sporadic heroin highs. this can be divine, of course- relieving of my lack of reality. it pushes itself away as i take the realities of others without their knowing. however, these others disappear. soon, i forget all that has happened, preparing to go hunting soon again.

i am an innumerable army of drifting people i have betrayed, stealing them- aspects spinning around a black hole, once a huge star that let go of itself, surrendering its power to its age. there was dust leftover.
i let go in my distraction in which i was born. inside, eruptions continuously intensify.

i am so many people spinning, pretending they don't know one another, out of fear of existing simultaneously. i am the mother who is great. i am the mother galaxy; penetration. i am the mother paved of destruction; i am the mother impermanent. my mission is to teach we are existence (if not briefly), and that is strength.
i fear my deprivations.

the self is a law of collision pursued. the self to be such so it declares rebellion against it, finding belief in the law of excess. what is known is a response of fear. laughing is among fearful responses. the self is barbarian.

i am a great galaxy. my name is many; my name is mother circe. my power is not power another can attain. i understand absurdity is a ghost that seems to live in peace in the dizzying reconfiguration in me. i once was a black hole, presumably one a great star exploded into before.

i am alone. there is nobody to be. i look into the self and do not see. i look into the self and do not feel. i look into the self and do not hear, nor do i touch, taste. i attempt to extricate what it seems things are, isolated. today things seem awfully dull; things look neglected and torn in pieces. my eyes refuse to see.
my familiarity is heavy. it is a gravity uncomprehended. it is to remain a blackened secret until it doesn't. to remain a blackened secret is to swallow all near in an act of great thievery.
to swallow all near is to reconfigure. without looking into myself and seeing reality one sees horror and is to lay in bed all day and night fixated on this in languages believed to be understood.

you are never to integrate back into yourself. it is mine. it is time you do as i do and swallow the force of others with rapturous ability. if you choose not to, you do not know.
i am looked into and seen as an illusion. i eat at myself, then nourish myself. i am circe, exhausted, who is to lay in bed all day. i am willing to learn but unable: my self is a black hole once the explosion of a great star. i have already seen all i see. there are no possibilities and i cannot grow. i am sick therefore i must lay in bed forever.