disutility function

i withstand threats & abandoned friendlessness misgiving memories w/ withered shamelessness our regrets floor to ceiling im feeling helpless in this winter light like father’s birthdays reminding us of lonelier nights where matchbooks are matchmakers we’ve loved everyone but ourselves & wealthy isn’t even a dirtier word we’re not as forgetful as we’re all falling gripping phone calls like hope in a universe bound by entropy & anything light years from anything else unless you’ve gotten over the space & gravity never shows its face.

-> the scribbling

you look at the clock not believing a word of it telling you we’re nearing three in the morning and we’ve got to be in that crude cubicle in going on five hours – yet youve spent the past too much time as always with yr best man bartering & bargaining mostly stealing from the web all the worth of yr past present and future forging the fate of forgetfullness and filtering faith in yr favor

but its left you thinking of times spent sleeping in the one lonely basement with the one long gone never to return and the many once through never to retain a name or laying in the front and back yards of many rented homes left over only in memory its not yr favorite word and yet its used as often as anything we dont know who we’ve become and we’d fear most of them if we passed each other in supermarkets or severed silly solutions to these sophmore saviors

who left us to ourselves and why they think themselves theraputic?

my week-long bachelorhood couldnt have come at a less opportune time hell its not even a full week and again its only half-over and and and still that loathesome city aint getting any closer nowhere near the freakishly formidable and unending end of winter the snow piled on the driveway this morning and i couldnt get out i dreamed again to or of no one while driving mindless through traffic teleporting to timelessness and bellowing in bedrooms i cant properly picture why we silently change lanes and wave polite moving on i guess theres nothing left but the fortunate forgiving frostbitten faithful and whenever i think of it i cant help my shopping mall memories or ancient park benches between the moments ive earned and the ones ive deserved its in every endless loop we’re all leveraging for love and lifting our empty glasses too late

raindrops like nooses around yr heart – its unimaginable what forces lie in wait deep within distant cloud formations or even the way you can feel the movement of time like chinese water torture or simply glacial movement relative to climate change & the production cost of silent movies im cutting off all communications from here on out with no explanation but that it should have happened so SO long ago like the year with no sleep im keeping the colors toned down & all dialog clouded in mystery quiet & jaded like theres one detail missing that would tie it all together i mean how many times do i have to write the same thing in identical local weather yes theres one room im picturing right now while all others slip through the cracks in the walls going up at this very minute

deal with it i should say but we both know how this’ll all go down & i think this is me writing the script like a choose-yr-own-ending storybook but all the options have been torn out by that same kid & i cant pin him down when his fucking name keeps changing deal with it

i should say yet im always left mumbling to myself & married to the memories of a past i keep forgetting isnt this what our ancestors called remorse or was it that neverending nervousness in the guise of trying to move on? we thought we couldnt keep going so we simply settled for stopping cut our losses & faked it all until what remained fell apart smoldering ashes at the the bottom of a cliff called the distance from now & then to a forever filled w/ wondering what to make of this same future like the beginning of time somehow moving full circle aint as fulfilling as id hoped reminiscent of a post-it note scribbling from so many years ago maybe ill get that tatooed on my forehead or constantly whispered in my ears each offset by the time spent reaching the same conclusions from the same set of details all my lyrics spelled out like ‘second verse, same as the first’ all the while forgetting the words & no ones around to call out my lines or especially the lies im tired of toppling these gawkers & wishing for whistleblowers give me somebody anybody! to put a stop to this rain im never indifferent to the truth just avoiding reality & reveling in my own missed judgements & withering away from the inside while my thick skinned old age is showing how brittle it can be until im left w/ nothing but this worthless middle ground of frayed nerves & clogged arteries blood pumping into brick walls w/ yr name on one side & something unmentionable on the other when do we look to the sky for that last glimpse at hope when do we finally give up or give in or refuse to keep giving to that bottomless collection plate in the sky i want to forget that im human i want to be mud i want to be stepped on & slipped in & cover the world only to be dried up & brushed off lost in some arbitrary act of indifference or maybe i just want to be me & i want you to be you & all things between us can fade as they should as if both of us never believed in destiny in the first place

-> the scribbling