i couldn’t tell you when
i don’t know myself
not yet any way
we drifted
too far
.
i couldn’t tell you why
i don’t know myself
there’s a hundred reasons
and not one of them
is any fuckin good
.
i couldn’t tell you where
i don’t know myself
it’s a real
location nonspecific
kind of deal
but i know where im feeling it
.
i couldn’t tell you what
i don't know myself
and even if i did
how does that help me
how does that change
my situation
how does that
alter
my now?
.
i couldn’t tell you anything
the clarity of hindsight
provides no clear direction
the “I”
in this equation
occludes and eludes me
so many angles
About the Creator
Bren
"It's just a token of my extreme!" - Frank Zappa
"Cause it's all in the heat of the moment It's all in the pain!!!" - Devin Townsend
Centre Stage with the wonderful Heather Hubler
I'm writing it out not acting in doubt!
Off the Book
It ended like every other stupid idea. Badly, and alone. I’m researching digital confession ethics, he said. A tech ethicist. He gestured at floating data I couldn’t see then pulled out a physical notebook. Actual paper, fountain pen. He held it up like he was showing me scripture.
By Nicky Frankly3 days ago in Fiction
Comments (3)
I really felt this. That sense of being unable to explain anything because you don’t even fully understand it yourself is so real.
and the poem could be beautiful while unfinished thought... and a human is human as a child or a old full grown man... and time is movement even when I stand still in morning, noon, evening... true, although there is always a weft to each weave and there is a pattern and there is a weave of the final work regardless of the fact that the thread flew from left to right and left over and over again... so, I when right and wrong.. and...
Love this, been there for sure.