The Cons of Hitchhiking: Notes from the Dead Letter Office

I can feel a storm brewing deep within myself.
I look out into the vast space of my mood and
can see thunder clouds on the horizon.
The lips of gods and the tails of demons
this too is the past, present, and future.
Being written, unfolding and shelved.
The dust of plausibility, self worth and
all points in-between.
Where is my mind?
I at least know where some of my other parts are.

Happy places and wishes of building bigger and
better things beyond what I can accomplish myself.
An open minded temporal distortion,
Wondering what it is I have to offer.
Beyond peacock dreams.

Am I intimidated, where is the missing cog.
Did I lose my self-worth in the wash. or
am I too passive? or aggressive?
An Ursus complex? Does “just right” exist?
Fumbling at my own existence.
Maybe waiting for the rule book for engagement in the mail?
Maybe I have never seen it done right, or
felt normal with the social norms.
The dust bunnies understand these woes.

The writings of Lovecraft come to mind.
Elder gods dark in their slumber haunt me.
As lucky as I am, I cannot help but squirm.
As always the ticking.
It drowns out all other rational thought.

Want and desires pent up in the back of my skull
Internal pressure up against emotional blockage and
other missing cogs of my value system, minus the baggage.
The long division and tax document of life filtered through my soul.
At some point I have to make two trips for all the bullshit.
Chalked up to rants and raves, and 72 bpm nightmares.
I can’t help but smile.

Name your poison,
I know the name of mine, and
all these years it hasn’t gotten any easier.
One might think it would. but silly rabbit…
We are a creature of adaptation after all.
Is this just and ego trip?

Half glasses would be much better put to use
at least then the glass would be full the rest would be
spilling onto the floor.
Your feet sticky, yet still breathing.
I’m not sure any more.
I’m yelling at myself, others are yelling at me.
What’s missing?
I could get into this subject deeper, but
I don’t think I have the fortitude.

Missed quotes and left by the side of some blog.
I feel stupid.
Really, you included my misspellings?
Thanks for the press, yet
I could have done without.
Maybe next time you  could give a heads up.
I am single and far beyond articulate
enough to weave together a story of at least some interest.
Maybe, I should rest my case?
Click… grunt. I feel like an asshole.

In the end this could be any other day, but
today it seems lackluster.
A balancing act that is getting too hard to follow.
For the sake of anything I am bless with some good friends.
I wish I could help them more because I feel like I’m getting nowhere.
Is it weird to think that if you cannot help yourself you should help others?
Maybe that is Karma in a round about way.

All I need is a some sort of convoluted sign
that I am heading in the right direction.
My compass is spinning.
Holding my breath, is hopefully enough.
I have gotten a lot of positive feedback,
Chomping at the bit. yet I need a tender hello,
and a minute not wrapped in fear.
Welcome to my constant head fuck.
not to mention a perfect timing for a cold sore.
Rock out with your cock out.

(September 28, 2010)