right you areya can do this alive or dead- just feels better alive- im sure
I just don't like the sound of me when I am full of self pity
a few weeks ago I was starting to feel homeless again
getting ready to throw my life in the wind again
there was freedom in the wind when I was younger
but now it is a lost feeling to contemplate
The road was my refuge for a million miles
but now I dread it
I wish I could just click my heels together and be back in my Shenandoah home again.
talking about self pity
a fear of losing control
a drifting malaise
cosmic slop
so much repressed fear
hard to grow up at seventy three
this ain't poetry
just letting my fingers go
learning not to fear maybe that is maturity
I been a spooky kid for seventy three years now.
like a jack of nightmares
break breaking here >>>for a random fear<
If I ever do suicide I hope I could do it with a sailboat
the closest thing I have ever felt to being free was sailing
I like that metaphor for the end
sailing off into a sunrise
life against death
eros and thanatos
always a tension it seems