mrsimple
So hard to get there. To stay there for even a second. When I was leaving the theater tonight I walked passed a junkie leaning against a metal fence. And he was .. Still. Maybe a little to still. Next thing I new bike cops ride up. I walk pass and I look into his face.. Up towards the sky.. And he looked like he was being reeaaal still. I mean that final bit of stillness that we never make it to till that final attempt. Mouth open, eyes at half mast. They flashed a light in his face. Nothing. Wow my first time seeing a dead person. ... Oh what? Never mind he moved.... Good.
It was so hard to?.. To keep the intensity. The drive. To keep pumping the legs. Like pistons. Like the beat on the skrillex song. She kept pulling away farther and farther. . To keep moving was hard enough. But that it self was sustaining
I look at the world. I look at the design in the little things. The deep grooves on the trees bark. The furry ridge of the leaf and I wonder what my textures are. Not only on the outside but what lies deep in me. The dark, the wonder, the unknown.