There on the horizon. See it?

I am agitated today. I wish to sell my car and travel to see the love. I have been waiting for this moment for about seven years. The financial freedom I trapped myself into so many years ago. Debt has always been this huge weight on me, it has consumed most of my life and has kept me from what I feel is living. Since I have a hard time creating things or rather keep myself from creating things, I have always had a longing for travel. To me...travel is easy, see a new place, walk a new street, become a stranger. I like that idea, a stranger without feeling alienated from my family and friends. A stranger that I choose to be, a nameless faceless being walking the emptiness with the other numbers. I have been agitated mostly since I have came home. I like Maryland a lot and I like the three to five people I hang out with...My family on the other hand makes me the most sad at times. They are people with wants and desires I can't get behind, mostly because it is the pursuit of excess, I am in the pursuit of nothingness, emptiness, freedom. To have nothing is to be free. Although I do love the woman I chose to be with and I suppose in some way that can be seen as a possession. But I would hope that she would journey with me. See the sites, taste the dew in lush meadows, kiss clouds, smell far off oceans and feel the sun underneath some new sky. Its what I want and Im working for it. I dont care what they say or think, but I want it now, Ive wanted it then and I want it now. Im going for it. Im going for it.

Eye

What people fail to realize is that we are all apart of the same whole. We are a superorganism. We forget that our actions forever effect the way we are perceived by our peers. We forget how our actions, words and desires alter courses of life. We are responsible for each other. We are responsible for our actions. This life is give and take.

Mecca

I have nothing to say and no reason to type. I'm starved for inspiration and I keep looking for that big meal up ahead. Maybe I order in or rummage the old cupboard. I feel like there will be this day of enlightenment where I will have enough of being this lurching machine scratching at every root and pulling up every rock to discover whats underneath. I put myself in my home plot but secretly I want to return to the arms of the rust monster. I like the way it peels my layers away exposing me, misfired wires and open gears. It gnaws on my joints and pulls at my wires.

It seems that I wish myself to not be comfortable ever. The comforts of friends and family. The comforts of home. I don't want it. I suppose I want to start my own comfort zone. One where I make the rules, I make the decisions or have a say in them. I am making steps in freeing myself of the burdens I have placed some years ago. I hope in the matter of months I can at least deal with the physical manifestations of my insecurities. My mind on the other hand is a different story all together. This I feel will take some amount of deprogramming. I must be willful I must be strong.

Weeee OHHHHHH

I don't feel like I'm at home anywhere. A lack of closeness. A lack of solidity in my surroundings. Everything feels its in passing. A lack of permanence. One foot out the door. Clothes in plastic bags. Trunk is full. A sense of detachment is present in all things. I want to find home. I want to find the bed to lie in. I want the warm breath on my neck. The hot meals. Less feeling of replacement. Less feeling of nothing.

An ocean of towns and cityscapes. I am set adrift on rivers of black. Places and people on their islands. I float by and we wave. A welcoming smile and a beckoning call for fleeting moments on my pontoon. I know the asphalt calls me. I know the lights guide me through the fog. I want the land. I want to stake my claim and burn my raft for firewood. Root myself next to the parking garages, streetlamps, and skyscrapers.

?

Forgettable.
Simply forgettable.
Remember to forget.
Burn.
Roaring Blaze.
Set fire to it all.
Fall.
Loose footing.
Scraped knees,broken ankles.

I'm Sleeping 3 hours a night Screaming

The bellow of the giant next door to me keeps me tossing.
My mind is a landscape of anxiety and serenity.
The cool calm breeze in the fields.
Tall trees and stoic mountains.
Interrupted with the effigy. The burning man, The sacrificial Lamb
The mountains ooze molten earth.
The breeze brings the smell of ash and the soot stains my face.
My bed, was once a welcoming friend.
I now see that there is no salvation there. No hope for rest or solitude.
I can see the dull glow in the seams of the mattress and box springs
This is not my home.

Why don't you get another job?

My mind falls flat on the pavement when I stare at the screen. Thoughts of others and lives and losses flood my mind. A suggestion, a call for help. A weight on my chest for months now. I keep wondering what I did wrong or what it was I could have did right or different. Stand straight, eyes forward, nails are clean. Falling in line. More like falling. I lost sleep some years ago and I wish I could find it. Sometimes I hope it will come back to the stoop looking for food. Then we could rekindle our lost friendship. Its hard to let go. Its hard to give up. Its hard to be someone you are not. Its hard to take a loss. I'm not dead yet. My heart still beats. I have work, I have my books. I have my hands. My hands have never let me down. They are strong. They are happy to hold the hammer, the knife, the gun. They are happy with these tools. We become proficient in our 40 hour a week life. We become needed, we become loved. That was my flaw, I forgot I was at work, its all a job.