it was never a lot to think about.
the way i hang three small disco balls from my ceiling.
the way the shadows start to droop onto the end of my bed through the corner of my eye.
never thought about that, that much, that often.
wasn't something that happened that often.
nothing ever usually happens at the same time.
i have been wanting to paint abstract art with my fingers but i always think too much about the colors.
instead i cut up magazines and think too much about song choices.
that has always been something to think about.
i always have to have my bed in the corner.
other connecting walls have too much.
mirrors are supposedly portals but nothing has popped out yet.
maybe.
maybe it was never something to think about.
what even is the sky and this rock we sit on.
that has always been something to think about.
renaissance statues were made life size but always giantic to a beetle.
i own too many pens that i do not use but i don't think about them much.
pens have never been much to actually think about.
there are monsters on the bottom of the ocean, along with lakes of rivers.
and flies of wings,
and blankets of cows,
and milk of goats,
and bed sheets that are dirty with someone's blood that no one has ever discovered.
just seen by the last two people on venus.
and no one ever thinks about that.
i spritiually connect with the big fin squid and its elbow tentacles.
i have usually been a universe spirit of type person.
that was never much to think about or explain,
just a simple part of my arms.
i have never moved this one band poster on my wall.
that is not something i think about except for this one moment in the making, but no i will not change.
i like the smell of pleasing scents and i am unable to think too much on that topic, for it is too simple for pitiful thoughts.
December 20th, 2019