the alfalfa, you can have it.
the couch, you can have it.
this fucking TV, you can have it.
you can have the xbox and the only video game I play, too.
if you make a decent argument, I’d probably even give you my computer.
I don’t want any of it, for real, you can have it.
I don’t want my job or my debt,
this degree in this made up discipline called “psychology”
with it’s anachronistic theories about daddies and mommies and brain chemicals.
we’re all just brain chemicals.
seriously though,
shut up about the fucking brain chemicals.
the way your “helpers” will reach and pry, ajar the jaw and shove their hairy arms
down your throat until they are touching themselves, not you.
for your own good, of course.
it’s always for your own good, of course.
they’d never wanna play in your headspace,
only comfortable in recognizing themselves and their techniques.
to really be with you would mean risking themselves.
to really be with you would take time.
to really be with anyone takes time.
to really be with anyone takes attention and care,
like a stack of phones in the middle of the table,
or really just going out of your way for once.
nothing that’s complete breathes,
so I’m trying to be everyone’s breathing space.
I’ve started waking up at 7:55.
I’m getting rid of almost everything,
and that includes my self.
because our possessions possess us,
and that includes your self.
because we furnish these selves like rooms:
a little something here, a little something there - “how bout a plant, sweetie?”
“I really love the way the light shines in through the window…”
these little pieces that we can call ours in this big world.
unless you rent, of course.
and even if you own,
they put police officers at the front of the grocery store
because god forbid you eat for free.
you, alone, control nothing.
we’re at the mercy of known and unknown vectors.
sitting on blood-red couches at the edge of a lake
trout fishing for the nerve
to scramble “me” up:
what did they do with all those fish, anyway?
what do you do with all of your fish?
and all these things,
what things?
all about me.