typhoid stuck
in this chair
can't go to bed for the life of me
even though i look forward to dreaming happily.
and happily waking up.
ive been tired twice before tonight.
but i can't pull myself away.
absorbing useless information
spouting useless thoughts
lurking, but just shadow puppets.
dispelled with a hearty laugh.
jane i'm going to be [insert current age] forever.

i've said that every year of my life. i feel like age is this dormant thing: unchanging, unmoving. i'm tired of living life every year. years are long but add up quick. i want to move on. i keep thinking that life is this big joke and i'm waiting to get to the punchline. or a book and i'm waiting for the climax. but i know that life is what you make it. things aren't going to just happen to me, i must make them happen. i'm trying my best but i feel like i don't have any choices at this point. so i am left, waiting, unmoving.

"man is condemned to be free." -- jean-paul sartre
. . 041208
lacunas coil ice wheels frozen
spinning between the flakes
dodging each silent spectrum
flaring exinguished smoke
and hesistations between each world
as if each is its own world
lost in the galaxy
lost and alone
linked by a bridge
of nueotic pleasure
what's it to you?
who go