Thursday 8 September 2011

SILENT MIGRAINE

Dear Diary;
freak high of undiagnosed infection
feels like I smoked skunk for dinner
the day after a heavy night.
Dear Diary;
I
am
floating
in
space.

Dear Diary;
are jazz cigarettes a good way to come down?
Dear Diary;
they are not
but they mask Weirdness.
in the evening I bang hayfever tabs
and
serial
eat
roasts.
increasingly thicker gravy/diminishing yorkshires.

Dear Diary;
stare at amazing swirls of cloud and grotesque beautiful street faces.  slim identity held together by watching any movie.
Dear Diary;
I
go
visit
my
GP.
he judges my drug seeking behaviour.
see’s the hunger in my eyes.
poster for an art exhibit by a relative above his desk.
he’s punishing me with meds make my heart go thud.
  
Dear Diary;
outside the garden EXPLODES and at work
I
am
floating
in
space
fixating on the small planets in the dumb café.
Dear Diary;
insight comes with alien distance.
am I a full man person living anymore;
I frown at the Familiar Things about me. like my bulbs been replaced with mescaline.
 
Dear Diary;
I need awful routine I think or I just
Dont Know Who I Am.  afternoons now stuffed with day long hours I cling and hug mescaline walls.
Dear Diary;
go to bed early sleep without rest and dream;

of 3 bags full of
Important Things
I’m escaping African civil war
by flying to Fort Worth Texas

pissing before dawn I lie back down into
3.40am sudden bliss.
I listen to the racket happen out there.

Dear Diary;
up before the alarm/my choice/my tiny control.
I clean the wine sediment
out
the
bath
blown away by the definition of my hands. 

No comments:

Post a Comment