lost coastlines

Been filled with self-pity and self-loathing in equal measure of late, which is a rather shit way to feel. Thinking too much about the women i’ve known, the ones i’ve loved, and how, really, i loved all of them, for a minute, for an instant, for a year, for a hug or a kiss. Every single one of you, you perfect creatures, has something worth dying or living for. I can’t stay focused on any of you for long, though, because the new love is just over your shoulder, and so i bound and fall, collapse, implode, my heart erodes and combusts, my dissipated veins pumping black and calcifying tar.

I meant to write much more here, but i’m boring myself. Wondering if i’m an asshole or just perpetually confused, lost, and alone. I think i’m feeling lonely is the real thing. Not a pleasant feeling. A friend of mine recently told me that i have a hole in my life, which seems, you know, rude, but i appreciate her honesty.

Besides, it’s probably good to hate yourself every now and again, even when you don’t really have a good reason, but only an inclination.

Spent all last week coughing up disgusting bits of something lodged inside my lungs or esophagus, and now i smoke too many cigarettes. Again.

No sleep. No reason to beat. But i go, walking. The desert’s everywhere and i dreamt of her all day.

mirrors of smoke

seraphic hands and abyss sands
dragged past unwatched clocks
through hangedman effigies
Life and Death
hands clasped and smiles wide opened to swallow we from eternalNight to everlastingMoonlight

and so the land of Death and sickDawns
to age Lifeless and recall no springtime ambulations
no marriage congratulations
an escape from omnipresent conflagration from the land of Life and perennial strife

next post

New story up over at ThunderDome called Upon the Sons, which was almost called Sins of the Father. All dialogue with nothing else. Hopefully it comes across well. Also, within that issue, the great and prolific Stephen Graham Jones has a story, too, which is all kinds of brilliant. He’s recently been nominated for the Bram Stoker Award, which is the bees knees in terms of horror writing for his short story collection,¬†The Ones That Got Away, which is great. Truly unnerving schtuff.

In other news, i decided rap music is awesome a few weeks ago and decided, just the other day, that Kanye West is cool. Yeah, only a decade or so behind most audophiles, but i’ve always kind of hated him, for various reasons. He makes awesome beats, though. And he’s arrogant enough to make a short film, which is really just a long music video, which is kind of cool.