Log in

No account? Create an account

Vertical Prose

February 5th, 2005

phantoms @ 04:19 pm

i've been abstaining from sugar for over a week now
but for some grapefruits
and a few dates a day

the computer still lures
i have to fight against it
a type of sugar

my brother called
it got me off line to talk with him
then i went to read

but first: i needed some chocolate.

i have a few kinds of chocolate with no sugar in them
not sugar-free chocolate
in an atkins kinda way
but more like baker's chocolate
i love the bitter too

but right now
i want sugar.

i took out my large serrated pocket knife
and cut a hunk off
and sucked on it

and another

and another

it's good for the lungs too, you know
black chocolate


i stabbed the knife into it
broke off a hunk
and then
broke of a tiny piece of Dagoba's Lavender/Blueberry dark chocolate (but that had some sugar in it)
the piece was larger than i liked
i chewed it up ravenously

my tongue felt fuzzy

i sat down to read "sure of you" again
in the chair
by the window

something about a guy in his 30's... AIDS patient gone with dementia at the police office
freaking out
Michael trying to handle it

i get this phantom feeling of cutting my finger with my knife
that large gun-metal blade cudding through my finger

i keep reading

and can feel the blade scraping the bone

and Mary Ann get's found-out not telling Brian about moving to LA

the serated part of the blade rips so easily through the skin

What the FUCK is THIS?

sleep deprivation?

i've cut myself a few times
but never with this knife
never on Purpose, let me make that clear
there's not a desire here, it's not like i want to
it's scary
it's like i'm pressed against the surface of a paralell reality where it happened
when i was stabbing the chocolate
it slipped
and slid right though my finger...
Share  |  |


(no subject) - (Anonymous)
[User Picture Icon]
Date:February 6th, 2005 02:08 am (UTC)

Re: Like a leaf atop a torrent.

i feel the desperate hunger for life that burns through me like the sun
i want to dive into the sun
it's not drugs or sugar
it's just the still of winter
it's just the quiet and the calm
it's just the desperation i feel in all the randomn lovers i take
the massage clients
i say
"let me hold this for you... it shouldn't be wasted"
and it burns inside me

i have to write to let it out slowly or i just incinerate in the wind
and sometimes it's not slow enough
not so much a stream
but steam

like what i just wrote

wanna go for a hike or something soon?

i think i'm going horseback riding with a horse farmer on tuesday...

Vertical Prose