Thoughts Drift Down

0:00 – 8:09
It takes a while but eventually I have to sit, my stomach turns and grumbles, “You haven’t been doing this long enough for me to care” and you don’t want to hear it anymore so you crunch your body into weird angles and flop back and forth to ease up, like those times you have snot in one nostril and you roll onto one side and feel it leak gently (and it tickles you back and forth incessantly) down into the other one, but it gets stuffy there too, and you roll back again.

Yeah it’s like that, and you can’t shake that feeling and sometimes you POUND that seat or that three-person couch or that bed or that loveseat with the holes covered up with books and lawn chairs even, what a thing to feel, that rumbling!

All you can think about is how much more exhausted you will be after it goes down. Something you ate?

A little skit to make yourself feel better, it only helps for a bit, and you are going to lie down for good now, BAM you can’t even hit it right and there it is, you fall onto the floor with a thud.

Only the stars in your head and in your eyes, twinkling enough so that you can return back to sensibility, remain.

Crystallize that thought because it’s a sharp one and you could use it to cut wood later, we all know that bed isn’t going to last too long, it’s like 6 inches from the ground and you could catch a cold and you know things only drift in the direction of gravity here. Give a shot and try to stand up but there’s no way when your body feels like this! Sometimes you have to tense up and let a bit of it go, but not too much.

But it helped, and you can be calm between periods of doubt and self-loathing and really when you have the clarity it’s not like being sick. Maybe you can ramble on and on about something but that same common theme is going to bring you back eventually, oh and look at you standing up now, like a jangling robot bobbing up from the tool box, and now you are going to dance for the crowd is that it? Don’t go so fast, you might hurt yourself. OK so now you have accepted the rolling thunder in your entity as just part of who you are.

A clean conscious strikes
Shred the plain of forever into pieces
Return the mother’s heart into her hand
Return the father’s spirit from deathbed to rattle

Be forgiving, as the sirens come, the dizzying anticipation of evading the inevitability of sleep and sadness and curiosity, floating down from the skies.

Empty downward thoughts like sludge, seeping through cracks between oxygen and nitrogen and carbon dioxide molecules, picking up bits and pieces of their surroundings, fall into a meditation. Even the moments of algorithmic logic are broken up by floating feathers.

Suddenly, warm your heart and cry tears of joy
Remember that as your thoughts drift down
You have a home and it calls to you
You’re standing up again, half-way there.

Push away the muddled thinking and clear yourself for more repeating schemes. Upon your tired mind, strays a gentle meandering. Take away the feeling and there remain jitters, active and pulsating in time to buzzing, audible buzzings.

Prepare for the return of the theme
Ambivalent cultural merging
Pushed out and pulled in
Pulled out and pushed in

A dot spins down and up, calling for something new
The space slicing apart your breathing and terrible chills
Come back, the rush of speed and the generous melody taking over and suddenly it’s back and you can’t even understand the psyche of what goes on behind something like that it’s just going to burst any minute now you know this.

Explode! Again and again, the mental flood has smacked itself against the walls of the dam, and now it’s gone.
Explode! It’s here it’s here now, coming back.
Explode! It’s here it’s here now, coming back.
Explode! It’s here it’s here now, coming back.

Try to ignore the coughing outside

and sit in peace at your table or your desk or your workstation or your

countertop or your bar or your stove even and sip that warm drink.

No room for jealousy.

It’s hard to stay calm when there’s so much brainpower swirling within.

Give me a chance. I’m standing up again. And I don’t feel the stomach pains. It’s just zipping through me.

No more reservations about the way I feel. There are downward currents and that’s quite alright, see you can feel good about it too, and pleasant aromas blow in through the window and the screen door and children laughing and the clank of kitchenware and flies floating around the room.

Fades into an hourglass, sand and

thoughts drift down into

peace and silence

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