my brain is impotent - sorry

hi, did i tell you i went to Yosemite?, no i did not, why, because sometimes i'm a downer for climaxy stuff, no explanation needed but you probably know what i mean, i feel like writing now because of two things i did not see (but wished i saw), 1) a f*cking bear & 2) a falling star, it's not like i did not try, you see them when you see them - right?

i have a thing for "f" today - sorry.

and you probably agreed

and you probably agreed nostalgia bites, i said so and i probably invented that because i still smelled wildly of forest fires that wafted like incense and of pinecones that crackled in the campfire

but i burned myself before i became an ember at dawn, the romance in the ashes i clawed (and hated) because there is always a song about longing and never about love.

feverish, mutating and hating my bed

i have droopy eyes, it is halfway falling with a Dali toothpick-prong stand, there is surrealism behind this fold, i see glorious mountains with pine varieties at different elevations, in the morning the air oxidize my respiration, in the evening there are small fires that bombard me like sacrificial incense...

i am walking, walking and walking, with (a ghost of) you, with (a ghost of) myself, they are all the same...

the meadows are humbling, the rocks, the rivers and the grass each have a song, they seem to tell me something but i am often muddleheaded, maybe they want me to be lost longer, to be washed by too much light that i don't see the spot where beauty is the difference, i will find it, you will find it, in the meantime...