i can feel my inards, wrapped around my self, folded inside-out, like and onion unpeeling itself backwards. pushing out my whole self, exposing my inside as my skin, enclosed and confused, peddling backwards, reaching for bortrayal. where is my mind, confused and disentangled, throwing puches towards the center, through the outside. composed and deflected, rocking unsaddlingly towards me. confused, at will.

pulsation looms, befriended and sickened… decisions go unfold into a more terribler reality. succumbed by idiocy and crashing as imploding, outwards. fucked if i’d know. rapsody.

—

decried as insane.

lunatic beneath the moon, only four days past, questioning the immediate without reaction. carvation, indention. collapse and pretend, relax and twist the candy-cane reality into a mesh.

and why? a/k, he told me, man on the moon; and i understood. breething to make a difference by undoing the creation of self, community, life. text.

—

repulsed by self, looking out, questioning the purpase when so much else needs to be done, questioning the self-reasoning, the belonging, the disengaged.

frazzled straight through, electictry perputually.