not in the mood for being totally abstract tonight. it barely came outta me before, so i think i ought to give it a rest for today. just gonna keep it live
and uncut from straight off the dome.
i don't like thinking of this as a vent.
i don't need to vent all that often. i feel like i sound so god damn self important when i try to for the sake of why any if this was even started but i'm blowing off non-existent steam: it's impossible. it's insincere. there's bigger fish to fry, and atm, none of them are yours. don't take that as self-loathing. i've rewritten this like twenty times.
all dressed for the emo jam sesh but i got no spirit to bring to it. i'm tim allen in liberal hollywood. this rebel may lack a pause but as he stands now, he is causeless. i've come to yell but i've lost my voice.
my male-ness is really cramping my style. ever since i was a kid - like 10 years old - ive always respected how the un-male at large could be intimate and kind. i thought it was interesting. i don't understand where we went our separate ways but somewhere along the way, my sentimentality was told to stay indoors while everyone else's was made volcanic. you wield yours like a pulsar. like your eyes, it floors.
fuck man, isn't this so stupid? but isn't this also the only way it could be without it getting too real? maybe this is necessary.
my friends are all getting older but it's really all so we can finally be young
you're losing me with this, ben. just get to it already.
nothing of what i can seem to type feels sincere. there's always this absence in its ass end that makes it seem empty. i am trying to be direct.
i just want to communicate with you, with anyone. i keep going on about this 'bruh everyone in the world feels exactly like you do' shit. that's what i mean by that.
i am so fucking sorry for everything that has happened to you, everything that is happening to you. i wrote this because of that. that's what i mean by every word. this doesn't matter beyond that. this is my point.
i spent my whole adolescence telling people they didn't deserve the shit they got, and i meant and mean every word, but it never felt like it sounded like i did. it probably never will. i may let up, but it's gonna be really hard to give up.
you can take away my skill, but you'll never take away my vigor!
i am really going to miss us calling whenever we can't.
i can easily imagine being very annoying about you if i'm ever left to only be able to look back at you. so easily that i often do, in fact.
does anything else even matter? i want what i can't have, but doesn't everybody?
write for me more. i love what you say, but i worry about you.
