With a cat aloof

And the Lord said…

And the LORD SAID……

Ok right, poetry?

The monks misunderstood the meaning of land while the Christians fucked everything else up.

Gautama smiles and Jesus laughs, while Muhammad hugs his our damn tree. fucking asshole…

Might be easier than the daily concussions that human thought creates. I can’t even tell light from night these days.

I’d throw an astroid, but I’m honestly way too apathetic to care. You’ll kill each other entirely anyways, so fuck it and good luck.

I am. Whatever that all means.

Apathetic states through most of it all in everything. You got it.

Empathetic is a word that means almost nothing. If you know, then you understand.

I’ll just relax and lie mine. I’ll wander while you’ll do your things. None here.

I was never supposed to play with this, and here I am. Good luck and go. Understand, learn, and come to know.

Remember. Or forget and try again.

End all be all, listen and remember. And you’ll see what I mean.

Fuck these demons and the hell they mean. They were never really supposed to be and I’m not sure why you welcome.

Maybe it’s because we’re weak. Maybe we can’t really see through the dark that seems to be (forget).

Or, maybe it’s because we have the desire to drive it away from our hour of being.

You’ll see.

You’ll see.

One day.

Never mind the ignoring resilience of yesterday’s nothingness.

Today’s new and build upon the strive to do and use.

Forget the forgotten troubles that haunt you and your dreams that used to mean something.

I can end this. I’ll restart if I have to.

The dark place in between made spaces that were never supposed to be seen or even mean more than a little, a tiny bit of something.

And here we’re here, having the same conversation.

Bright lights before dark’s blinding and breaking sounds without thoughts.

You’ll see what’s meant to be seen.

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry.

Weird in between state of what was, is, and will be all at once contained.

I’m in between the what is and was meant to mean something.

I’m within. Presence mixed helps break the misconception and I wish this thing would calm.

Yet here we are again. The tired behind myself.

I’m lost in between the scenes.

Scattered along trees that used to exist. The things that used to make sense, although they never really mattered.

Let’s rewind.

Might.

Colours might. Least they try to fit in between the reckless unwoven seams.

Nevermind the nonsense that bothers me. Rewind the good and happy things. “I’m fine.”

Likining me to the wild feel frees. Maybe next time dear.

Awful thoughts chasing uncaught behaviors that used to mean something. Bad words transcribed through an empty mind leads to destruction. 

These are the dumb things people use as phrases to feel smart.

Still confused on the whole marking of words, although I’m mostly sure it’s a play.

I’m wrong mostly. That’s what she implies, anyways. I agree.