passive distractions just don’t cut it for me, i need that visceral thrill to give the squirming cells in my body any kind of release. i need the blood rushing, pupils dilating, fresh air and skin prickling beneath the piercing sunshine.
Absurd demonic currents, mere reptiles, trying to overtake the course of my progress— my entrance into the mansions of the divine. Real unbelievable, despicable things occurring. I don’t even know who to tell. All I have is prayer and meditation and the bliss that follows. Silence and solitude. What the body and ego feels means absolutely nothing. I’m glad I’m being tested. God needs to be certain about me and I will not disappoint, surely.
i’ve got no discipline when it comes to the fantasy of you, my mind bathes you in a gentle warm haze of light that lets your edges blur and makes your eyes smear into fangs, a gift of double-vision from the drunken indulgence that blooms into a twin set of jaws, cracking open as your best imitation of a lover’s waiting embrace that is just wide enough for me to climb inside.
