Empire Of The Senseless

I cannot keep you, so I will tell you now

You're stifling your intuition. The energy being released is deadly. Pure intoxication, poisoning the senses. Leave!

The contradiction stunned you, its not your fault.

P's inevitable forgiveness

Stop holding back from me!

111

A (P)lay in Parts for your Entertainment

I curl in a ball in the middle of the floor. The room is empty. There are no lights. I let myself remember. I weep softly. Under my breath I build a memory. First it whimpers. Now it moans. I roll over and press my hips to the floor. I imagine love. You’ve given up on your own, I know. But I wont think now. I will let go. I tremble. They’re going to eat me alive! I scream! At first its pitch black, pure silence; the love must first come through me. A burst of color bursts from my chest. My ribcage is shaking furiously. I cant stop crying. I have never been so happy in all my life. I am coming home. My city sleeps with me. No matter where I go, she calls for me. She knows she’s full of shit. She knows I’ll never stay. She knows the birthplace of my soul. She recognizes her history living on my skin. She knows, I’m her only home. So she throws a temper tantrum in the middle of Balboa Park at three in the morning. A boy with a gun is guarding a baby blue tower. He is sure that I’m insane. He is falling in love.

Place your hands over your chest and shift your focus to your heart. Can you hear me now? I’ve been trying to evaluate. But the truth is, I never needed to understand. The way you choose to move belongs entirely to you. I love the way that I am. I love my body like nobody could ever love anybody. She is mine. She is strong! We are aching to move on. Her love for me has no boundaries or sense of time. We create kingdoms, then kingdoms come our way. Look outside your window. What do you see? Do you see something outside of yourself? Do you see your body? Do you see the enclosure? The irony of your supposed free will is your current state of affairs. Humans are the newest feed and the livestock is glumly awaiting slaughter. The greatest source of energy has been found and surrounded from end to end. Properly fed. Silently the executioner begs for a new profession. The feeding begins. You hear a story. You are told what is to be eaten. You don’t ask why. You sit and wait for your turn to be eaten alive. Slaughter

K. Fine. Really wanna know me? Ha! I have my doubts. But I’ll let you in anyway. I despise the human race. Love is a destructive beast. Truth is I cannot deny my emotions. There’s no hope for me. Truth is childish intuition. Truth is stupid simple! Be careful with that so called intelligence baby. You might start speaking without saying anything at all. Will I still be wildly attracted to you? Probably. You may talk like a tough guy. But you’re all giggles and disco dancing and I can’t stop thinking about that night. We knew! I know we knew everything the whole time. You saw me dancing in our kitchen the moment we met eyes. We weren’t supposed to be looking at each other. But I was only sitting there waiting for you. And you only showed face in hopes of my company. To disdain me openly! And dance like a kid! And hear of how high I had climbed to see things as I did. “Where is this tree that you speak of? The one that let’s you speak so candidly, the entire City runs through your memory. Balboa Park at 3 in th

Don’t touch me I’d rather scream. Crying is for babies and I have seen all that I need to see. Don’t speak! You’ve said enough, babe. Kick sticks! Get a life! You’re staring at a fucking screen all day! Don’t tell me that you belong here. Don’t talk to me ever again. I’m going under the ocean and this time I’m not coming up for air. I forgot the color of your eyes. They turned to the reflection. They became possessed by the great source of energy. The thief of everyone living isn’t a force to be reckoned with. You cannot kill your own creation without killing yourself. Your eyes are responsible for everything. No fear no hate no pain no broken hearts. You could’ve had my way. We could’ve disappeared into the park without saying goodbye to anyone. You could’ve dipped the screen in water. You could’ve looked up instead. You would’ve closed your eyes if you could, I know. You would’ve remembered that sleeping is death and that death is a shift in dimension a different shape a different face. Every face looks exa

The beautiful boy sets his sights across the ocean. He knows his love is waiting. He knows she is impatient. He takes time anyway. No one can fool him. He has all the answers in a small backpack. His father was Michael Jackson. His mother was Kathy Acker. He had but one brother, Fyodor Dostoyevsky. He’s been alone all of his life. He doesn’t intend on running away. The beautiful boy is going home. He’s sitting on the floor crying in the palms of his hands. He’s the happiest he’s ever been. He’s been sitting of some floor somewhere for the last four years. He’s not lazy. He works through the night, most of the day too. He refuses to participate in society. It has only ever made him sick. The beautiful boy loves to be healthy. He does not want to harm anything. Above all else is his love. From this place it flows, pours out of his skin, drowning everything that dares stand before him. He knows its time to stand up. He knows its time to embrace the unknown again. He knows the control is in another’s hands. He is

It all began in the night. I am certain it could’ve been one of the days in a week; by at this point in my life I had ceased counting time entirely. I was walking to my favorite bar. I was surrounded by familiar faces. These faces were smiling. I couldn’t understand what was so funny about the world we were playing in. I suppose at some point play takes every form. As soon as we step off the playground we’re already downtown. David was swinging like child, feels like yesterday. But than, so does everything else. I don’t trust this feeling. I have a strong theory that I’ve been testing. But that’s a conversation for the evening to come. I shall not waste it on you before you’re listening. It shall be heard. I have my mind on someone in particular. Of course, she a girl I once knew. Of course, the love was unrequited. But that’s not entirely true. Mostly, this story is a lie. I’m not lying; this is based completely on real life events. But my truth is not to be shared with you. So my story must remain entertain

In this world we’ve created, the day is excruciating torture. The key is to endure. If you make it to the night, don’t you dare fucking waste it! This is where the only bit of peace is left alive. The dark is least of all to be feared. For all of the creative energy that’s survived the performance is sent here. The busy bodies have finally stepped out of this sick dream and fallen asleep. If they have any luck at all, they’ll stay there. The details are unimportant; all you need to remember is to keep your fucking beautiful eyes open. Don’t fall asleep until the machines begin to wake up again. Protect your energy. Don’t speak. Don’t ingest meat unless you want to move on such murderous tendencies. Than by all means, kill at your pleasure. But you cannot fool a living body. It will eat you from the inside out. You cannot resist your destiny. You cannot act opposition to your speech. My darling, look at your decaying body. No, that’s your ego talking. The surface is deceiving. Look deeper! What lives inside? A

Listen baby, I don’t mean to tell you how to live your life. Truth is, I don’t give a damn. My love is straight out of a Henry Miller novel. It’s apathetic to the point of complete sacrifice. I’m just walking. I don’t have anywhere to be. But I know that I if I stay here one second longer I will die alongside the rest of these sick bodies. A waste of precious energy and resources, but I can always walk away. And when I do the memory becomes a vital part of me the bridge set aflame every living thing on the other side never seen again. I have far too many lives to live in this one alone to get caught in some shit story of self-deprivation. I’ve been sad. I know; it’s draining. But I’m running again. I’m reaching for her neck. She’s hesitant, but hardly cautious. Her audacious touch turns the entire world to gold. She remembers him. But it’s simply too late, he’s dead. I should know. I saw everything. I’m terribly obnoxious in my incessant need to spy. I want to know every story. So I can take it home and rearr

“I’m trying to write every night. I swear, I am. It’s not fucking easy. Having you out of reach is like a soul without a body. I haven’t seen my reflection in three months. What does the camera see exactly? I prefer my shadow dancing. I prefer the light created in the deepest parts of the night. I used to cry when the sun went away. Now I cry when she’s returning. I am always crying. One way or another, sadness overwhelms me and I am taken, by choice. What is joy in this place? Can you define your happiness? Where do words cease? Take me there. It is there I will find ecstasy. It is there I will surrender to peace. Your skin wrapped around me. Your voice is dead silence to me here. You have no idea what joy can be. I feel it in the birds circling above before the storm. I know they know that I know what they know. They follow me to bring me peace. I feel danger everywhere. Do you not feel this sickness! Say something you actually mean! Shake yourself from this tormented state of existence that they are pursui

“Did you see me? I was dancing for you. I’ve been awake all night. I was screaming in my pillow. I was certain someone would hear me and come to my rescue. But it’s the strangest thing, I’m now knowing. No one wants to save me. No one wants to save any body but it’s own. Most die before coming close. Baby, tell me your watching. I want your eyes on my skin. I don’t want anyone else. Look, I’m taking off my disguise. I don’t want to be misunderstood. I want you to see everything that I am. I think that you do. I think I’m falling in love with my love reflected through you. You’re growing restless, aren’t you? It’s okay. Don’t get frustrated. The sensation is fucking incredible if you let it be exactly what it is. Your body wants your attention. Your soul is calling out for you. You wont be created for one more second. You want to make what happens next. You want to do it with your own two hands. You want your own ten toes moving toward nothing known. You don’t know where I am. But you will if you move.” She is

I am sick. I was born like this. I’ve been trying to rip it out. My life is the constant pursuit of health. I wake up and meditate until I lose sense of time. As soon as I walk out the door someone ask what I am planning. I get ripped from the moment. I stare at them dumbfounded until the uneasiness makes them cringe and walk away. I know that game too well fucker! I refuse to play. You want my voice to follow your disgusting story. But little did you know I don’t speak to strangers. You’ve forgotten to write your own. But I haven’t. Keep walking buttercup. Pass right by me. Stop looking at my ass in the dark. It’s disconcerting. Borderline obsession, I’m memorized by the ones left alive. There aren’t many of them. You’ll have to forgive if I ask to fuck before we make it pass the second sentence. I’ve been missing you since I left. I’ve been thinking about the possibilities. Maybe you’re still possessed and faking pretty face part boys lining up to witness your charade. But maybe you’ve woken up to an altern

It’s terrifying at first, I know. Sacrificing everything to creation is to fall in love with loneliness, to eradicate boredom by taking time from definition’s deathly grip and swallowing it. I lied. I’m not bored. I don’t need you. I can’t think of anything I’d rather do than fuck myself to the thought of you. I need you to take my time. I’m holding my hand out to you. I want to do absolutely nothing with you all night. No baby, you don’t need to get wasted. Love is the only drug that will feel time truly. Don’t waste me. Don’t suffocate my desire in the lust of numbing everything. I know darling, it hurts like fucking hell at first. To sit in silence and see all of this shit as it truly is. All your life you played the game obediently. You kept all your stupid shit sparking clean. But the more spotless you became, the more every stain tore into your skin. Agitation sank deep and grew like a weed from the center of your intestines. It had everything to do with what you stuffed between your rotting teeth. By t

Seems like I can’t stop. My best guess is that you’re close. Because I’ve been dancing in the rain all night and the moon says that she’s been planning this reunion since I was born. You were seven I think. Staring at the mountains burning, trying to figure me out. How can there be this much water in the middle of the desert? So the pretty boys could dress up and play golf, you thought. Then you thought this was all fucking absurd. But when you ran downstairs to spread the word, the table was covered in flesh and everyone had already eaten. It was your turn to swallow. It was your turn to murder your imagination and surrender your creative impulse to the great scheme of devastation. You ran back upstairs to grab your camera. You figured if you could just capture the moment, you could use it as evidence when you were trying to puke it up later. You could get lucky, pinpoint the moment they shoved those ideals in you. A couple of decades too late, its still the rest of your life saved. You could still rip them