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Myke on a Byke

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(no subject) [Oct. 5th, 2007|08:08 pm]
Myke on a Byke
allow me to clarify what I was saying.

with the onslaught of academics a rapidly fading memory and a pulse pushing "what the fuck am I going to do now" sort of question popping into my brain every morning when I wake up, I'm on a somewhat desperate but not too articulate and formulated search for direction in my life. But direction is a false north, and if I follow the half brained ideas I have in my head I'll end up in the middle of Canada somewhere hunting elk and wearing moose skin loincloths. during the summer that may not be so bad, but I like my nuts and they don't like the cold.

I never write in here anymore because everything I think is in and out of my head so fast that in order for there to be some coherent plausibility in what I want to write I have to dwell on it for days. I see stories in my mind's eye. More often than not stories based on things that have been happening to myself and those I know around me lately. Things are good, then things are not good, repeat as desired.

so what snuck up on me is a little promise I made to myself when I was seventeen. The promise was that if and when I finally finished college I would remember everything that I believed in before college and compare it to what I think now. it's almost redundant to say that things have changed, but then again a lot hasn't. I just forgot (do you ever forget?) to remember for a while. That and I also promised myself that I wouldn't turn into a fucking asshole, way to break that one to yourself, myke.

But I'm not regressing into some sort of post university fuck you very much masturbatory solipsistic fantasy. On the contrary, I'm taking keen notes of the flashes of life and wonderful and horrible things I've encountered since I've been here. I'm trying to remember the things that have guided me, be it free will or causation. That at one point whatever I believed in didn't matter as much as it could possibly matter right now, and I don't want to lose that person that was once innocent and naive and more idealistic than a moonie running a meth lab.
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(no subject) [Sep. 28th, 2007|09:03 pm]
Myke on a Byke
ain't forgettin who I am or when I came from.
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I am a stranger [Jul. 4th, 2007|02:02 am]
Myke on a Byke
everything is okay.
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haiku? [Mar. 25th, 2007|11:06 pm]
Myke on a Byke
nothing good on tv
I keep moving
no stories tonight
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(no subject) [Mar. 24th, 2007|03:58 am]
Myke on a Byke
somewhere I feel as if I'm still alive, that there is a universe where I rest silently and gracefully. tonight I am dead and have died over and over through eons again and again. there is no other place but here where my animated body rests among the living. a scene from a horror movie, but my corpse is living, breathing, eyes full of light. and the camera rolls on and when the film is developed my reflection disappears. hello night, goodnight love.
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heady water type [Mar. 19th, 2007|09:01 pm]
Myke on a Byke
all of these different parts of me have changed unexpectedly, sometimes for the better or worse. And then I have a bunch of questions afterwards, words that keep repeating themselves for no reason in my head (definition-less) and they flap around like wounded birds. I have seen more things now, liked a little less and given my heart without realizing it until after the fact. and I have stared down some scars and spit on them to clean them up. yet everything remains heavier and somehow void of a past I can appreciate. obviously unnerving but at times I mistake it for a cocoon that I created. perhaps in literary fashion I'll burst forth but not like the changed type, more the kinder and truly self aware type. I could only hope, of course. everything I know is always different every time I look at it, and I see particles for both places.

its like a power but cold as a trench.
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(no subject) [Jan. 30th, 2007|11:38 am]
Myke on a Byke
There's nothing lovelier girl...
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(no subject) [Dec. 23rd, 2006|09:20 am]
Myke on a Byke
I woke up to bells this morning.
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our tension [Nov. 28th, 2006|09:36 pm]
Myke on a Byke
I hold my head aloft with the palm of my hand, and touch my eyes, my feet and ears. I see things on roads that disappear in lines I carve. My vision vibrates more than shakes as if I were on drugs. As it is I wish I were.

I think I've created this struggle for my own amusement. I will forget the things that keep me going on purpose, and I feel as if I chew through inspiration to quick (I will try to avoid metaphors here). Not to mention the second person, although addressing you does satisfy some strange social desire that orients me in half suns and an empty vastness.

My bed is cold. Lets talk about the fact that sometimes I feel hands curve around my waist and I pretend for a moment, for as long as a breeze blows through an open window, that something is real here besides me. I want to change the subject with every sentence.

I remember writing in here and having a purpose and a point. These days, however, not so much. I doubt I'll write in here too often anymore.
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what the fuck!! [Nov. 21st, 2006|12:21 pm]
Myke on a Byke
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