i am satisfied

Well:
I had a huge lovely post written, but I did something and inadvertently deleted it all. Here, I’ll try again.

Did some midnight drabbles last night, here are all the ones I can feasibly decipher.
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a diaphonous meniscus of terribleturtle dreams under an unfortunate derivation class. It is not their birthday but we will celebrate it anyway; you were part of another kingdom of wonders and well other things, I suppose. Death/pain is like the sound a piece of sheet metal makes, like a twanky twan monday besides my ballon well our hearts importants things and how are we going to pay to motley crüe umlaut.
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Been having loud, rolling sweeping thoughts lately; thoughts that make me want to scream my discoveries to the heavens. I blame these sort of on the rolling lovely sweetness of the music I’ve been listening to, as well as the inherent mind-twisting properties of psychadelic music (even without drugs, it is a trip all of its own). I am imagining triumphant glowing landscapes. I am thinking of mortality, and even beyond that, the questions of beyond the grave.
It’s when I start thinking about that sort of thing that I start to feel very small, very organic: more a part of the macrocosm. We are, really, all marvels of biological engineering- how are we able to think? Chemical reactions. All we are, all we ever will be, is limited by the simplest compounds, the simplest ratios.
Oh, to anyone who wonders.

There’s also something that makes me cry about all this nonsense, all these chemicals rioting inside my brain. How does it all work? What, in essence, are we?
Is there such thing as a soul?

Well, hell if I know. But I’d like to be one of the first to find out.

Yo soy una extraña en esta lugar sin tí.

(I am a stranger in this place without you.)

advice to the young

Lying in bed, listening to Kid A put on rather softly as to not wake my sister up. I do not know what has come over me these last few hours: a deep and suffocating melancholy rather than the stubborn triumph I usually feel. Perhaps it is my mind’s way of dealing with this lack- this lack of anything, really, this lack of drive, motivation, etc.
But I can’t say love, because I know Agaetis loves me, as do my dear Lil and Genna. It’s going to be alright, I just have to tell myself. It’s going to work out alright.

There is a strange surreality in our life, our thoughts. Sometimes, standing in the shower with scalding water rolling down my face, I close my eyes and find that the world I imagine inside my skull is infinitely preferable to this one, no matter how strange or terrifying my mind is.
And I’ve realized that I have a very frightening subconcious. I have been drawing without really thinking lately, and I am a little frightened at what comes out of my hands- great smiling lions, women with blindfolds and gas masks, strangely contorted beasts with teeth jagged and black.
I do not want to see the contents of my head upon a table. I do not want to know.