Is this the downfall of every artist? A beautiful woman... Well, I keep writing, maybe more now than before. How many drunks are out there, too scared to face their reflection in the blank page without the devil's elixir to aid the battle. Am I writing well?... what kind of writer am I if I have to deny the beauty of life to do it?
He ripped up his story and threw it to the birds. He had already got everything he could have wanted, he didn’t need eyes to tell him it was a good story. He was just happy to play. He knew it was all just play. The world went on, trying to get her attention, she told it to be quiet, she was too busy documenting the past to see the present. But Riley smiled, loving her anyway.
“Fuck him man, I’ll kill him, I'll slit his fucking throat,” showing his fear through aggression about the boyfriend who wanted his head.
On the other side of the river a body lay dead in silk. Next to him a man scrolling through his phone.
It is exhausting; giving everything the benefit of the doubt. Accepting anyone is prone to corruption. Double think; entertaining both signs of the coin. Never being fully sure. Your internal soul knows everything already. Ideas, virtues, actions, poems, songs, silence, symbols can lead you on your path. You chase the rabbits tracks but never see the Rabbit, because the rabbit is you. You are following yourself from the front. A little more efficient this time or maybe the wrong way to learn it was the right. Learn nothing to realise that’s what you learnt.
laughter takes the misery from truth, truth puts the ink in the pen and he sits with no ink, not even a pen, and far from a truth.
You can bare your soul, give a little more of yourself without the inevitable pains of attachments and labelling. Love has been corrupted by insecurity. Me, more than anyone. A part of me died through the pain of my big break up and although it hurt to die I'm glad he is gone. Jealousy sits in the shadows of pride. A status. A handbag for the ego.
“Say sorry”. I said sorry and there wasn’t relief. “Ask for forgiveness”. I did, and she gave it to me. Young queen Elizabeth putting white sheets on the line in the backyard of an old lived in timber home on a horse breeding farm. “You have to say goodbye now Riley, we need to continue our journey”
“This is life in Jail baba” Shaking his head and making a clicking noise with his tongue.
I got lost and stumbled across a lawn full of hippies. As if they were pigeons and someone threw seeds on the grass. As if the farmer filled the trough with LSD