Trees that wear hats

Some are bathing in comfort and our minds are numb. Some can barely (if at all) sympathize with the poor, the starving, the fleeing, the beaten, the uneducated. And by some, I mean those with fridges and baths in their homes, with credit cards and tumblr accounts, with internet connection, full libraries of unread books, hedonistic and forgetfull of the harshness, or true condition of life. In health, we like to think of the ill as unfortunate, we put labels, we have them in hospitals. There simply is a difference we make between the healthy and the sick. Malaria is far away, it is other people's problem, like we don't have enough already.  Culture stands as proof of all this. Arrogance, irony, sarcasm, disregard of the seriousness of "why so serious?" Governments do everything in this race for material security and prosperity, as we chew away from earth's food like it is endless. Easy mistake to make, this end is, afterall, burried underneath piles of fuel

THAT'S IT I KNOW WHAT THE NEXT CULTURAL CURRENT WILL BE! Post new-post-modern-post-crisis new age thing. No thing. Nothing. We will all remain silent in the face of our decadence and of the all-ness that has been said by our ancestors. We will shut up and have no choice but to face all that we've been given, that which we have altered. Ladies and gentlemen, laugh now and bathe in sarcasm, irony and lack of respect. Enjoy these last moments. We're in this together and our voices will become thick with anger.

Now I have to write the nothing and enjoy the silence. Empty rooms. Empty hearts. Generational pressure. Absence. You hope they will change their minds. There is void we do not know if we perceive. Bend on and on, like the drifting days. Gone. Without end.                <---- why is there a space? Forgottenness.          Language, weapon of detachment and forgetfullenss.

The of and to. A in is I. That it, for you, was with on. As have ... but be they. Top 20 words of the English language

I am angry now. Really angry now. Been swearin for 10 minutes. Not good. Need help. Need work. Guilt, I feel guilt. But I'm angry. paralyzingly angry. Or something. Will not succumb. Prison. Angry. Need relief. Cannot find. Won't lash. Need people. Do not bother. I am angry.

Caloriferul se încăpățânează să rămână rece. Îți amintesc simetric. Mintea caută sedative, să stăpânească ceva ce vrea să iasă. Sau să se manifeste. Îi dai să rumege ceva dureros, să se zbată peste vreo dilemă minoră legată de perseverență sau motivație. Faci ceva, dar știi că va reveni. Să fie prima lume ce vrea să înțeleagă mintea? Greșești, te simți vonovat, dar simți. Ai vrut să scrii vinovat, dar nu te mai întorci. Nu ai cum, totul e acum.

Passage of time. How quickly I'm eating. How fast I' breathing. How much information I perceive. Smaller brain, less information. Time goes quicker? Is time just an illusion to enable us to categorize information in an order? Is that order just some metainformation? Is time just information? Second law of thermodynamics. Entropy increases, hence information increases, time moves forward. This is a definition game. But language is not time. Time.(n.): The indefinite continued progress of existence and events in the past, present, and future regarded as a whole. Think about it, or just spend time.

All the ghosts from your photos Are inside here, I point to my head A gun, that only extra 8-bit lives could toss A sun, cancering all of us dead Beaten, battered, burried and beasts and birds all converge on my queen Of clubs I speak, a deduction based solely on my thirst Obvious intention of getting close to you, noticed by your ego Obliterated, never even the chance. You can't Google Translate my first Opening into your visceral spine. I'd die for a chance, I'm like a crow Pity you feel, pits you wish for me, peasant I am in my own garden. And at least I tend the garden, I visit my inspiration from time to time Pety references to actors, bands and little trivia you find in books I think, I live. You only keep inputs, where I connect dots, don't frown at me. Do you know? That I can sit with you at a table and have you remember what never happened? My nature is natural as yours. I don't hide it with books, I write. I'm ignorant

I just have the urge of yelling "I need help, get me out of here!" And every memory punishes me for it.

It is the time for a Brand NEW! Guaranteed to make ME feel free and YOU feel concerned Completely original Totally NOT childish and profoundly deep and mysterious (May include frustrated sarcasm and opressed emotional problems) Ladies and gentlemen SHUT UP!

Read and read and read and read until my fears are repaired and then read and read until I lose all pleasure and then don't read and ignore and ignore until I collapse and return to the raw passion of writing and then wait a few days until I give any high ideals to the easier, more comfortable pain of gaining happiness of you reading and reading until my fear of not aknowledging my passion and ending up alone come back and then read and read and... Read, live, sing, work... not a difference. Love, cry, whatever. Why a circle? And if I say "NO! ENOUGH! I SHALL BEBORN ANEW AND BREAK THIS VICIOUS..." bullsh!t. Starting is easy. How do you keep it going? Why? I need someone to keep me up to it. Or do I only imagine I need, in sort of a stupid excuse? Well, I am pretty stupid. I want it to stop.  I say this because I am frustrated. yay. I mistake and mistake and mistake... And it keeps occuring to me that if only there was that someone... and then I go on and on