Journal Entry [01-13-2019] by GodsToiletBrush, literature
Literature
Journal Entry [01-13-2019]
Every time I get down in the dirt and dig,
I end up deeper,
I'll take a Monday off and try to get everything where it belongs,
only to pick up the shovel on Tuesday and dig deeper,
by Wednesday I'll see only black above and below,
Thursday I'll tell myself "this isn't a choice, now, dig",
I'll spend Friday collecting roots from under the surface,
and Saturday I make nooses and climb with my shovel above,
On Sunday I drive the shovel deep into the dirt and tie off my neck,
but every time I get down to the bottom of the rope and choke,
I end up back at Monday.
Journal Entry [12-09-2018] - Tanka [5] by GodsToiletBrush, literature
Literature
Journal Entry [12-09-2018] - Tanka [5]
If this life exists,
not as some facsimile,
give me a reason,
anything within reasoning,
as to why... smoke comes of fire?
==
We are smoke of something burnt,
ash and coal of what was here,
never was it life.
The fires of our parents, burn.
Eyes still wet of tears.
==
Life is a facsimile of fire.
So, burn.
Journal Entry [12-01-2018] by GodsToiletBrush, literature
Literature
Journal Entry [12-01-2018]
My ears never ring,
it makes me wonder if people remember me,
I know they aren't talking about me,
but do they even remember?
I feel stuck,
all the time,
in this small Texas town,
with no exit,
and no game plan to play.
Alone,
my friends are all online,
or dead,
or in prison,
do they even remember?
About little me?
In this small Texas town...
It's always quiet,
I'd hear it,
if they talked.
Journal Entry [11-17-2018] - Terza Rima [1] by GodsToiletBrush, literature
Literature
Journal Entry [11-17-2018] - Terza Rima [1]
A - My weakness, like most men, is booze and women of sizable bosom.
B – but like this cheap cigar, they always leave a bad taste in my mouth.
A – I've never not drank a strange drink, but I never eat a strange woman.
B – That's not to that I'll never go down south,
C – but you never know where fresh amniotic fluid may be come upon...
B – But my pick-up techniques aren't always the most couth.
C - Abortion clinics always have a head that needs a shoulder to cry on.
D – Those places are always near a liquor store, so it's a win-win.
C – Grab a fifth vodka and a mother-not-to-be, and party until
Journal Entry [11-20-24-2018] - Cactus I-V by GodsToiletBrush, literature
Literature
Journal Entry [11-20-24-2018] - Cactus I-V
There once was a man named Two. Two felt no pain. Two was a simple man, no addictions, no family, no significant others, and no pets. The only thing he cared for was his cactus and the patients he watched over at the clinic. See, Two worked at a center that cared for the elderly, and his ward was the neurological ward. He would water and feed his cactus just the same as his patients.
But Two didn't have time for anyone or anything else. He had few hobbies but no attachments to objects. Just him, his cactus, and his patients mattered to Two.
==
Two enjoyed every day being a new day. Each day many of his patients were seeing his for their
psychosomatic serenade. by comatose-comet, literature
Literature
psychosomatic serenade.
Schrodinger has been writing me
love letters, and he hasn’t. he
catcalls me from closed boxes
while I flip coins trying to figure
out what’s breathing, what isn’t.
your coffin, floating in earthen
rivers, hinges gleaming iridescent
as salmon scales, I am sitting here
guessing if the cat is dead or alive
in that imaginary vacuum, ignoring
Pavlov’s set ringtone on my phone -
the bells make me think of your
throat, how your Adam’s apple
rang when you swallowed down
another of my placebo promises.
I love, loved, you. and I didn’t.
Freud keeps dropping business
cards through the letterbox asking
my mother t
Triangular trickle,
fickle rage in cold borders
amidst
the meeting of my metacarpals
against
the fleeting of breaths o'er wooden warmth-
camaraderie receding.
if it weren't foreboding they'd ask of you
if it weren't faltering we'd stay a while
and respire in the ambiance
of your citrus death.
I do pencil drawings and (a recently acquired hobby) hand-paint on clothes. Comment or note me if you have a question or just feel like having some meaningful conversation. Feel free to recommend me literature or music.
Hello, everyone!
You may or may not have noticed that I haven't been very active lately, so I thought I'd write a bit of an update.
I recently moved into my own place and started med school, so as a result, I have been rather busy. In spite of that, I have to say I love living on my own and the change in location is very much to my taste. There's a hill pretty much just behind the house where whenever I go there, whether I look for them or not, I will find sheep bones lying around everywhere and I have so far taken about half a bag full of them home with me. So that's pretty cool. :D
Studying is going to be a lot but I guess I'll manage? Ri