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Sup Penpal

I have the house to myself for night
and she’s not callin’.

//

I think I’m just way past calling first
at this point.

,

She sounds like she needs space,
so that’s what I’m gonna give her.

·؎

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I’m back to running, because I’m a slob, because I want to look good.
I want to glisten.

Listen, my prose is weak. I’ve lost a great deal of myself. & this isn’t due to the burning of my family archives.

Man, I’ve lost a real great deal of my fire.
I’ve lost that –ooomph.
I lost that dangerously ravenous spirit that stirred in my breast.

I’ve softened, you know?

;;

I took my dad to the Rothko chapel
because I didn’t want him staying up at night
on the basis of my salvation.

 

I took him to show him what head space feels like. Inner space, I guess. I wanted to show him I found peace on this earth in a way I can actually carry with me. The most pallative place I knew.

I took him and he walked right past the books, straight into the cavern.
He kinda walked around still unsure what was happening.

I walked him back to look, and he grabbed the bible
of course.

I grabbed prayers & meditations of Baha’u’llah.
I actually had wanted the –

-Fireworks? Gunshots?
They seem so methodical, but casually out of sync enough to suggest a fallibility of inner tempo. hm.

Lotus Sutra.

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·؎

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I feel that’s it for this one.
It’s been fun.
Take Care!

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