its insane to be surrounded by people and pressed into so many spaces but none of those people and none of those places care about you that much. and the ones who do are gone by your own making or fears or instabilities or addiction to change and pain. addiction to repetition and a kierkegaardian laying down or release that keeps me cracked and separate. so that the only currency is cunt and the ability to smile and be places people want me to be, so that no one notices my eyes filling up or my proclivity to crumble and drift off to where no one demands anything and I am deaf dumb and blind.

Its insane insane insane to be so visible and yet not seen.


  1. It'd be nice if we were all born with zippers, or buttonholes, or Velcro. Or if we all clicked together just right, like Legos. That'd be nice.

  2. well here you are invisible but seen. and i am glad that you are somewhere, and your words

  3. Wow. So good. Loved this:

    "the only currency is cunt"

    And the ending was period perfect.

    My word verification was "vacen."