lust for life. lust for life. see the threads the sparks the connections the connective tisue know your heart know your mind know your skin and the way it touches and peels through the energy of the universe. approach your fearlessness and devour it whole. feel the sorrow dripping through the cells of everything. i don’t want to be an actress, i want to be so bleedingly alive that i cannot live without showing my soul to the reflective mirror of an audience. i want to need to press my words through my mouth so desperately that i cannot breathe. i want to be so devastatingly awake that i cannot sleep without praising the moon for being the truth. i want to want everything through this huge mindheartskin that i am. i want to find my flesh existing in all moments all at the same time and know that they are all love and that love is all delusional sighs of the sea.
don’t you know what you are? don’t you know what great rivers run through your blood? don’t you feel the quake inside your shaking underside as the mouth of the moon touches your silver sweet skin? don’t you remember the womb of words that pushed you through the branches of your limbs and lingering soft smiling secretions of sound. the great yalp that crashed down around you as your tore your spirit out of the trees, ripped your heart out of the sleeves of meadows and surrendered your infinity to the new voice of temporal time? don’t you enjoy the tick of the clock as it bounces around your brain, making shapes out of sand and clods of clay and creation? don’t you want to feel the furnace of boiling, building blocks of new thought sandwiching your skin between the ground beneath your feet and the grounded earth laying flat and foundational inside your great hurricane of a body? don’t you feel the sides of your eyes crack open when the light filters through the sound of morning? don’t you feel every inch of your knowledge crawl towards your flesh like a spiderweb of screeching and searching and seething? doesn’t your blood turn milky and wet when you hear the echo of your voice hitting pavement…the sheer weight of being a sound? don’t you radiate through your ribcage every time time leans over to give you a kiss- to force your head back into the hurricane of being powerless to the power of poetry, prose and the perfection of being part of a part of a particle of the sun. don’t you ache for the quaking, quivering voice of love to rush through your spinal cord of connection and creation? don’t you WANT to be ALIVE? burning and breaking and seething and tasting and twisting and twirling down the tongue of time? don’t you WANT to feel the want to want anything at all? to desire to dream to pulse to devastate to be laying in the middle of the street covered in bloody ruin and disastrous, disgusting truth? to taste with your whole stream of wind? don’t you want to do ANYTHING at all for any reason at all? don’t you want to be infinite?
find, follow, and EXPLODE.