s4

Multiple goodbyes.  Saying goodbye to myself and this is perhaps the best goodbye at all.  Mistaken from the beginning.  A mistake from the very beginning.  Unknown conception and then lack of wanting.  That’s okay though.  There has never been any harbored resentment.  The rhapsody in blue may never see a goodbye and there is something appropriate about that. I think.  Head goes light.  Still seen, by chance, by desire, orchestrations.  Maybe one day at night joining with the music playing.  And who else?  Writing water for however long, but that was already the departure.  Recently something much different.  So integral early on. 

The jackal who is not the jackal was better than ever.  Sheer perfection just as that type of perfection arrived from another location and immediately assumed complete control over everything. 

And then of course the familiar emptiness.  But I already spoke of that, didn’t I?  this will surely not be the last time.  all emptiness originates from me.  I create it and fill myself with it and spread it around.  Try as I might I can create nothing but emptiness.  Cannot say this was a trait passed down.  it is unique to me.  because I am something execrable.  Pulsing and writhing.  Greeted happily and I don’t understand why.  I understand everything now through the needle point.  This act of killing away is for the  absolute best.  Is there any way out of this? 

What did he see?  They all looked so tired.  No, there was another…can’t think straight.  Was there ever a moniker.  Addictive issue in the past breeding another in another.  Don’t drive but the words did not sound like those words.  And other clues?  Dressed in sacred garb and desire renewed.  Jumping around.  Ah, I see it again clearly through the neon lights, shifting figures.  Lost years, so much lost and wasted time.  all my fault.  Better not be….  Hahaha, time for laughter.  But all false.  Nothing good can ever come out of my actions and this is all one terrible web. Did not realize the relation.  Very dark on this very day.  and lovely.  No more words spoken.  We are both so weary.  No fix after a certain time.  had to apologize but of course it all amounted to nothing.  Lost and then renewed again and then lost and then renewed again and now may it all go away.  For I am something terrible and I infect everything. More laughter and remembering a pact.  This is all so blurry and illusory.  A staggering amount of time.  and maybe not it’s all gone.  Made a mess of myself and created nothing but emptiness and misery.  So many memories of absolutely nothing.   And nothing consumed him and made a mockery of him and completely controlled him; a very specific spirit moving around and pointing and rightfully laughing.  Coal. 

and what of the previously mentioned.  So cold for so long and now…maybe sensing the end.  Even less meaning.  I am an awful thing and everything is me.  fuck, I am so utterly worthless and disgusting.  But in that final moment he was only envisioning the color and the central line and imagining the sound which proves the particular maker.  And all the derisive laughter and all the scenarios and he realizes much too late that his creations are utterly meaningless and he has populated his brain and heart and spirit with empty husks and the only emotion they could ever feel toward him is rightful hate.  And through the farewells there were even desperate flailing attempts at new creations and they all surely would have gone the same way and he knows this but still attempts anyway.  While the bag of promises awaited him and its horrible contents which could never fulfill anything and which always resulted in mere spasms and silenced screams and shaking limbs.  Satisfaction was evil and only served to hollow him out even further. 

I’m fucking mincing words because I can’t put anything right anymore.  Time and again I tell myself….   But this is for real this time.  he says this all while drowning in excess.  Cut off that part of yourself.  There is no one more hypocritical than I. 

Tiny bit of solace…in the storm of last summer. Even this is illusory and fleeting. 

Can’t think straight anymore.  This is all going away.  Last kinds words of the jackal who is not the jackal;; the absolute kindest and what a fine final note to that particular song.  Everything is so underserved. 

And that tiny bit of solace is rooted in lies just like everything else; nurtured in sin.  There is tenderness anymore.  And that is richly appropriate. 

Any positive perception is completely false.  My insides are rotten. 

That other…was it from years back?  I think so and then at one point the background became the foreground.  Truly…perfection for all manner of the fantasy.  And the strongest degree of strangulation must go to that one.  the last time of being good to see again.

Now I see how far reaching this is.  Because we all come back to it.  All of us but his is the hand which guided everything.  He was too fucking stupid to realize it.  He has been so fucking stupid and worthless his entire wasted and useless life though at least thankfully he now has the good grace and common sense to disappear from everyone.  There is only ugliness here and it is no one’s fault but his. Wish for the best now for you and I deserve the worst. 

How strange that I am unable to find the words to sum it all up.  And yet is this not the most indicative of what it truly all meant?  I am far too repulsive.  There was the one singular obligatory moment and it was so undeserved.  He wished he could properly apologize but that is quite impossible.  The only logical thing to simply exit stage left.  Snuff it all out, starting with yourself.  Erase me from all your memories and this will be a much better place.  All those awful forced meaningless moment.  Please forgive me.  he can make this the last time.  for real.