In this room is a fight. My battle is simple, just to feel alive. With my cigarette and coffee I sit down here and stare. I miss her but will not find her in this life again.
The strangeness happens when I feel at peace, like after recovering from jogging. My mind is less blocked and attached to whatever it seems to belong to.
I have a strong lazy bone, a tiredness. It could be from years of the wrong paths. When I try to produce it is pain, a barrier, something stops me as I push through.
You want to just lay there at peace. In comfort. Easing your bones and relaxing your mind. Thoughts seem to come up and torment you because you haven’t reconciled.
I give myself a good talking to. I make plans. Really I don’t want much more than a lover, to tell my story to. Out there are people, billions, you have to find one that can care.