shadows_of_people_you_became polvo march through blood to find the golden ladder that belongs to you it was such a nice description but not quite true feel your weight touching your hands against your face someday you might stumble into a strange embrace heed the words of heroes and doctors who spread their germs tell me if your famous handshake is stiff and firm and after you're through stepping over the shadows of people you became hopefully your favorite color is still the same stroke your chin structure and posture are caving in but scientists will soon learn a way to drown your twin and the march can begin on you if you wanted to and learn to find the golden ladder that belongs to you and no one else "the golden ladder", 1999 021228 ... good people i've conquered myself i've been beaten by myself i've fucked myself i've been fucked by myself i killed myself i borne myself again and again now i die now i die i take this last breath as myself i now breathe as myself, not him 021229 ... original or extra huh what whos there? i'm working backwards and trying my hand at becoming a shadow of who i was. i figure i can acheive a state of lacking both style or substance it would be interesting to become subliminal 021229 ... unhinged everynight before i fall asleep it is at least a fleeting thought in my mind's eye; when did i get so old? when did the hope of love become not enough? many times the only thing that prevents the dark rings under my eyes is not seeing the light of day. sometimes i can't stand to be alone with myself but the only thing that keeps me company is the television. everytime i see certain people i get sick; nauseated constricted heart_pang (s) that are only dispelled by plants. but the sickness only deepens right before the smoke inhales; i think i may have always been an addict and the first drug was hope. after that failed me, nothing else could every feel quite the same. i can be so far removed from myself that the thought of suicide makes me feel nothing at all; except that it might be easier. if i could just stop this futile search for hoping for things that never seem to come. loving people that never seem to care past the drugs and empty beds; empty hearts. they hurt more than anything; it's a dark deep pain that can't be filled by the plants and pills that i try to stuff it with. and just when i think it is broken one tiny moment sparks it again even though at the same moment that heart_pang seeps through knowing that it will soon, sometimes seconds too soon, be defeated. i used to believe in love; i still do. the difference in perspective is mind-boggling. belief is empty when it strands you far away from anything to feed it. i stopped eating for awhile. it's been so long since i chewed some pills. and everyday before i fall asleep it at least flashes before my eyes; the way my heart felt when i was younger, what it felt like to be alive. my reflection in the mirror fades. 021229 ... Mahayana floaters cloud my image distorting your face 030105 ... ... ... 030419 ... .fallen they are everywhere .... flickering ... dancing along the walls 040227 what's it to you? who go blather from