blues from down here

there's always another layer, another perspective to take, a different way to look at the thing. there's always another way you could be wrong. looking back is like looking in a mirror: what you are seeing isn't what's actually there. it's two dimensional. the lighting is unrealistic. the image informed by your fears and assumptions.

short sighted? long story.

i could be this but i'm not. i've written more letters i'll never send than sent letters i've written. other people seem so much better about living than me. or they don't, i don't know: there's always another layer. another way to relate. love or famine, we'll just keep starving each other out. or i'll starve myself dead and you'll carry on, as you always have.

same difference, in the end.
we all face death alone.

i want to record, but my equipment keeps picking up broadcast signals. i want to sleep, but i don't. i don't know what i want. a warm bed. a satisfied belly. people to be more kind: to themselves. to each other. to me. i want someone who remembers everything i want them to remember and forgets everything i want them to forget. i suspect: my desire to be seen as i want to be seen interferes with my desire to be loved exactly as i am. that doesn't mean i won't keep wanting both.

or maybe it does. i'm never sure.

about anything.
about anyone.

it's tiresome, in fact.