Speak

26 years ago Sebastian Acevedo of Chile was in complete inner destruction. His children had been taken by the CNI, CHile's secret police who murdered leftists. Acevedofelt like many people of that decade as well as today. Political suppresssion of one's feelings is always negative. There is never discourse always destruction. Why are people so into politics? I read Angels in America and Louis the man for whom politics speak through is utterly the most disturbing character, abandoning his lover and overall never knowing what he wants. Why are politics so important? I don't see it, I just don't. SHould we all set ourselves on fire to stop what destroys us? WHat ails you? SPeak of it. I'm tired of neverminds and forget it's. SPEAK YOUR MIND!!

JOG?

The gaze of the moon is upon me and as I run I see the glimmering welcomes of the city’s night life, arising from yet another day of diligence. How far is it to the moon? Can I get there with these shoes? I don’t know but my feet are starting to ache and the sound of my pace is making a melodious rhythm. One, Two, Three… another group of beats and I begin to make up a song. I do that sometimes; make up weird songs when I am in the moment. I guess it is just my impertinence to be creative. I believe that eighty percent of the time, my creativity is stifled by an unknown source and I want to compensate that problem but am unable to, resulting in word or drawing mush. I loathe mush. As I run today I tell myself “six laps stay on six laps non-stop”. I walk at lap five. Well I run and walk, but I still walk. Is self-discipline not able to compute within me? Ah, I have problem with staying on task. Lap five is my “fuck it!” lap, and this angers me! However there is a silver lining to all of this, as I contemplate why I can’t continue running, I am running lap six. Lap six is the enigma of my inner art. Lap six is my subconscious magnum opus. Why did I start talking about this? There goes that beat again, one, two, three. How far is it to the moon?