Techno Robot Pudding

I watched the rivers split into several meandering pathways. They rode silently along, dividing the gravel that dare get in the way, sweeping anything denser underfoot and into the archives of times forgotten. Once again the land was ruled by waves whose peaks and valleys varied greatly from day to night to morning to evening. Once again my head failed to respond to the pressures of being. I awoke to nightmares after delving in them as the darkness surrounded me. The wasted thoughts were fading out like a ship on the far horizon, their echoes only apparent in the slight variations left within tiny fading eddies. As always, I sought reassurance from myself that today was another day. What I had just seen was not true. What I had to deal with could be just as bad, or on the off chance, much better.

There came times where I wished I could ruin the sky. Where I could grab it with my hands and tear it down like a blanket on the laundry line. Only so I could wrap it around me and somehow allow its shelter to cool the fury built within me. And of course that too was but a passing fantasy.

So the rounds continue and I am without a safety net. The only respite is a cold breeze parsing through the sieve of my window screen. I pray that it does not get too cold, or I’ll wake with a headache. Or, another headache for the day.

The very last day I was there I couldn’t get that fucking song out of my head. The bridge with the hand claps and the back-and-forth riffs was stuck. There was an awkward surrealism about it all. Not quite four years. From the bottom to the top. Well, not the top. In fact, my title had always remained the same. As it should have. What was to make me better than anyone? I simply had more experience. With experience came things, but that does not simply justify me being higher in any way. Then they point at the money.

I know I do not have to leave, but I feel like it’s required. The next step needs to be taken, and there needs to be a clean break. I don’t want to say goodbye. I’m terrible with goodbyes. So I don’t say them. It’s not out of loathing. Besides, I don’t need to tell you something you already know. You will know that I was glad to see you and am sorry I have to go. We don’t need to get into something so elaborate. Sometimes I enjoy just being simple.

So that night I walked out the door, down the hall, down those stairs. I stared up at the sky, like I did that very first night. That very first night I puked, by the way, from an upset stomach. Not related. I walked through the cool night air, like the first night. Echoes of another last day four years ago ran through my head. That feeling in your rib cage began. And it crept up to the back of my head. But I kept a straight face. I didn’t look behind me. The lot was coming up. I fought everything that was coming back. Keep blinking. Keep walking.

Memory is my enemy. It does not work when I want it to. But when I don’t want it to work, it does so all too well. So I turn my head off, which I did. When I got to the car and sat down, I began to realize what was happening. I decided to let it come. Like a great wave building up towards the coastline, I could feel it. Instead, the wave quietly faded and I smiled.

To say that I will not miss it would be wrong. To say that I will not breathe a sigh of relief will also not be wrong. To say I’ve just begun moving toward something greater would be totally correct.

Thanks.

i’m hearing that sweet slow melody that sneaks through pursed lips when the lights are dim and feelings run dismal. when failure stings and the burn of futility etches ever deeper into my stomach. it is the kind of thing that gives one ulcers. i do not know why i haven’t begun spitting blood yet. there’s a certain sting behind most of what has occurred. something that should have been put to rest has only become worse. it is bringing down everyone around me. thus, i am brought down.

and how much longer is it possible to keep the facade going? this illusion that i’m confident everything will work out? truth is, i don’t know. it’s terrifying.

now and again i try to patch together thoughts, to make sense of things, to produce items of worth. certain things interject. my brain shuts down, and i attempt to elude this fact. things come to a head, and it’s hard telling how much longer you can keep pushing. because when everyone’s falling down around you, being the lone pillar of strength is nothing easy.

so i stare out at the darkened skies and watch as light travels from some unknown distance. and i pray for some current to bring the clouds around to open. for them to blur the world with water. so that i am not the only one.

a million little voices in your head
screaming out in competition
fighting to the mountain top
trampled by the biggest

makes you fucking crazy
do you think i’m crazy?
do i think i’m thinking?
or running with the bulls?

crushed by my own mind
conscious of too much
knowing why i think i’m wrong
static, white noise, fuzz

dragged back in from yesterday
sopping, tired, wily
wished i’d given up
told myself i had

fighting the worst enemy
badly beaten down and losing
dragged along to foe’s delight
quiet violent soliloquy

cursing all of this
stupid shit from nothingness
untrue lips that don’t exist
but loud enough to hear
somehow

rays run through horizons
into backyards dimly oranged
no longer tense
as the breeze looms
sun leering on the edge
out the door
down pathways
over sand dispersed on shoals
over water’s mirror face

reflections on who we were
wise to be foolish
glimmers as the pinholes of
the canvas of the sky
reveal their diamond fruit

handful of sand
arm straight out
loosened wrist
watch its wispy dance
as it’s freed to gravity

i remember the weeds
bug bites itching
floating back
hearing
the grand chorus