Friday, August 4, 2017

Art Intimidating Life - The Ruins of my Mental Empire: Part One Hundred and Twenty-Two



I'm walking on the beach alone
it's winter - grey
but not so cold
or windy at all
the tide is so far out you could forget
what planet you were on
ahead of me on top of the cliffs
was a lighthouse
tall and white
an icon
at the top, i see a small group of people
tourists walking around the outside railing at the top
they are nothing but little black dots
and I'm sure i am just the same to them
i imagine myself
in all the photos
they would be taking
from the top of the light-house
a long stretch go beach
and a little black dot
me
in the middle of it all

death is a
a pervert in the bushes
jerking off
to the thought
of our stupid little lives

head for the sea
and find the city
build a sand castle
and find an office
take a swim in the ocean
- and get fired

my mind is racing
my body is dead
i lie here
eyes fading and lifeless
i have seen too much
one table
one candle
one beer
one chair
no light
no-one, but me
but i am no-one
i am nothing but dead
if not dying
dying for nothing
after a life living for nothing
i stare at my feet
the ground beneath them is still
dirt and rock
my shoes are new
my socks are worn and old
i have no-where to go
so i just sit
and look at my feet
nothing else
-they say the eyes are the windows to the soul

peaking
my week and emotions
colour and weekends
flavoured intoxicated
it brings a heavy weight
warm and soft
a spirit blanket
tucked in and safe
heavy head
pumping heart
misty soul
invisible body
nothing else / everything else
no time / all time
the void / the infinite
me / me
me / us
us/ us

a heady trip
72 years
spent wanting to be elsewhere
72 years
avoiding bad books
bad movies
bad music
I'm nowhere between sleep and awake
i sleep somewhere between
messed up and dead
and you'll find me nowhere

I'm walking but not really moving
the ocean is always moving
but not me
I'm still
surrounded by constant movement
i ignore it mostly
when i can
but not when I'm at the beach
i can't ignore it at the beach
fire always moves too
flames
glowing coals
pulsing and radiating
by nature - it moves
to kill, destroy
and warm
i sit still and watch fire
- like the ocean, it's constantly moving
and they don't change
these are the same flames
the same waves
ancient humans
dinosaurs
witnessed
and watched

standing before hell
lights down
television on

when surrounded by natural beauty
people get out their phones
- when the cops say
"there's nothing to see here"
people get out their cameras

what corporate sponsered viral video will "restore my faith in humanity" this week?

death is a
a pervert in the bushes
jerking off
to the thought
of our stupid little lives 

the sad truth is
when everything is good
when everything is horrible
- nothing really matters

rain, hail or shine
i don't care
because it's going to rain, hail or shine

2039 death bed:
"i wished i lived more without searching for validation on social media"

i heard a flute
like a monkey eats a banana
give it to me
don't cry
don't scream
devour
it's our time
to take
to be arseholes
to laugh
to play

that little spider on the wall
just got a lesson in
Midnight Oil

don't seize the day
- listen to it

in the valley of death
i walk
- don't run

bored on a train
crowded
i was forced to watch
i remembered myself
as a hard drinking artist
wanting to say fuck you
to as many people as possible
i was forced to watch
my peer - a middled aged man
squash the person next to him
reading off a tablet
until he starts loading some fantasy computer game
with jewels and trinkets
I'm on my way to pick up my three year old daughter
and a six pack of beer
- it's friday night in melbourne

***

take care comes on - by big star - im sitting in a bus travelling slowly through the outskirts of greater geelong - it’s almost 7pm - the light in the bus is miserable of course - the people scattered in the seats in front and behind me, just as miserable - out my window, a dark deeper than the suburban darkness im used to - this is geelong  - every now and again, a green neon catches me eye - i see subway-restuarants, where 16 year old girls sell salad rolls to graffiti-artists and skate-boarders - i think about the words - take care - and i think about the vulnerability of all the people i know - i see a car in an otherwise empty and isolated car-park, and i assume some guy in a suit is paying someone to suck his cock - i flood myself with psychedelic music to try and escape this vibe - im in what they call a good space - have been for a while - inspired, productive, sleeping and eating well, positive, exercising, drinking, reading, prioritising, writing, keeping things simple, and keeping secrets from social-media - the good life they’ll never know

i ate my dinner on the street the other night - im not talking al-fresco, im talking, standing in a doorway, overcoat on, cold and rain, eating a hamburger on the footpath because it was the cheapest and fastest thing to do - it reminded me of mexico city, where i pretended to be kerouac, and acted like morrison - im now thirty-five - i’ve always had the impression men live to 72 - women, 76

i see the moon clearler on winter nights - hazy clouds moving through a wind i can’t feel - down here, im warmed by the trees and their shadows - later i’ll build a fire - i’m warmed by the tunes and the music i find - there are songs that simply engulf me - the thickest warmest blanket you could imagine, on the coldest night of the year - wood burns perfectly

so becoming a father makes your life even more meaningless - it was, of course, meaningless anyway - but the truth is you become a father and you truly understand how meaningless your life is - this isn’t meant to be read in a dinner-party “oh our kids are just ruining our life, isn't it funny” kind of way - your life becomes meaningless because you simply don’t care anymore - i didn’t care anyway, and so now i’m really fucking free and flying

is this my black denim phase?
 i’m seeing the clock tick 1am
it’s funny that 3am and 4am occurs everywhere
i sit here with some ananda shankar playing (on a list) with the light dimmed, the movie adaptation of on the road plays on tv, and the fire is red hot but on it’s way to sleep - i take swigs of beer between my words and the music before me - outside the cold and clouds and the night - i hear the trees, and they are endless! - roos, birds, wind, echos of the ocean

***

when awarded free time, standing in a doorway with a distant stare heading nowhere but the carpet a few feet in front of you is not a waste of time - you are still “making the most of your day” - some people wear black padded vests and go out for breakfast, or drive to a winery for lunch and photos - but if you want to stand in the doorway and just stare blankly and enter the void and become a part of the nothingness, that’s okay, and just as worthwhile as anything thats handed to you on social media - all that stuff is like a street-vending gym membership leaflet being stapled to your forehead by someone who doesn’t realise you run marathons without their help

i just found myself staring into the distance, leaning against a doorway with a beer in my hand - im playing lou reed’s ecstasy album for the first time in ages - i always loved it - i look at the photos of him in the album-artwork and think how young and healthy he looked - i pull out my copy of lou-lou, the one he did with metallica, and think about how much he aged in 11 years, and how he’d be dead in 2013 - i knew i was going to like that album as soon as i got feeling that everyone else was going to hate it

these are the thoughts that i wake up to in the doorway

i often walk past this certain building, and the way it’s built allows for you to look down to the lower floors below the foot-path level - i walk past this building on my way home and often see this young long-haired guy with glasses working his job in front of a computer - i first noticed him when he was resting his head on the desk and possibly asleep - other times he’s browsing the internet for whatever he’s into - most times he’s just sitting their on his phone wasting time - i often imagine what his perfect job/life would be - the romantic would paint him as a successful artist who also runs workshops for underprivileged kids to keep their creative spirits alive - the truth is he probably just wants to play video games and sleep with the olsen twins - he shops at coles before going to the cinemas and eats of whole packet of corn chips and half a 1.25lt bottle of coke to himself

there are 3 words that i often get called, and all of them shouldn’t be deemed dirty words - they are:

selfish
stubborn
lazy

selfsih: a phrase/quote i heard from a hero of mine, damien echols - it went something like this: they only people who call you selfish are people who are upset you’re not doing what they want you to - that sums it’s up perfectly i think

stubborn: i don’t ask anyone to do anything they don’t want to do, and so when someone asks me to do something i don’t want to do - i simply say no

lazy - you wish you were as lazy as me - i’ve had afternoon naps sleepying beuaty would wake up for - cold air, warm blankets, golden sun, falling leaves, open window - the perfect afternoon nap - a cosy lounge-room sunday spent drifting in and out of sleep - a football game you wont see the end of - waking up to the smell of dinner of cooking - moving slow enough to see the clouds drift and form and move on, no time for sunsets here - i’ll be napping - i’ve spent whole weekends without saying a word, without leaving my house, without wearing pants - i lie on the couch and watch a movie i know word-for-word - i play some music and drink beer, looking at whatever takes place outside the window - leaves, fence, bird, wind, sun, clouds, rain






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