Poem 7/14/18

The day was blue

And so were you

I almost went crazy the other day- I was in my apartment and I felt something pass.  Then I started to keep a diary of all the crazy things that I think of when I feel stuff pass.

And then I wrote something that I didn’t expect people to see,

And the thing in the back of my mind said that it all came from a guy who used to oversee me, and everything, when I lived at a nursing home, as a p-director.

I remember sitting in my bed being afraid of eating the Garrett’s popcorn that I bought downtown- of three options, cheese, butter and caramel.

Notice how I organize these three choices.

And now I go to the bathroom, feeling cars go by, and it makes me wonder….

What is energy?  Is it just something there, meant to distract us from everything we can’t control?

Which way is up which way is down, how deep is red, how deep is brown?

My face makes me look red with the fire that burns in my soul, and my pores that are too big, and my hair which is too wavy

A guy that I had a crush on in high school had red in his eyes- it reflected the hate that associated him with the hell that would seep out if he ever got out of control.

And now I know of a 20-year-old with the same hell in his eyes, and it makes me wonder if he is associated with the guy- the one they call him- in the depths of my imagination that makes me wonder if I am right, about everything.

And the same that comes from black, deep eyes that are like marbles

And when a car passes, a special one with a special somebody inside of it, it reminds me of being at 7-11, which is the weight I was when I was born.  As soon as I got out of the hospital the first time, I bought a frozen lemonade from there, and it was the best I had ever had in all my life, and I wish I could go back to it, when I was afraid to speak to strangers, yet I remember saying hi in an almost callous manner. Almost.

And sometimes I watched people in my alley, pass late at night, in the dark, and it makes me wonder, what are they doing there.

And I remember lying awake at 4:30 in the morning, not being able to sleep because of the breaking wind that passed every few minutes, so I got up to go downstairs to see what was going on. 

Walking at night makes me feel alive, like I could be somebody else, and when I pass people on the sidewalks that I find interesting, I feel so alive I could burst, like a piñata.  But I didn’t see anyone that night, except a person sitting in his car, I think.  And other passing cars that break wind.

Keeping a journal is important because it allows you to keep track of what is going on in your mind, in your life

But what would happen if you knew that someone was going to read it later?  What would you write?  Would you write something to screw with his mind?  What you write something to uncover a truth that almost no one has known?

Brainwashing applies when I write on the inside cover of my journal that it is dedicated to Anne- circumstances like that, but would I be mad if this person that has read my diary goes around brainwashing people into thinking that I am a bad person, or even more- that I was Anne Frank in a past life? 

She might say, alone in the attic, you don’t even know me, buddy.

When you assume something, you make an a** out of you and me. 

I learned this saying in grammar school, like how I also learned to not be scared to ride my bike downhill, alone or with my friends

The other day I saw two guys riding bikes by my school, and it made me jealous

Sometimes I used to look up to the passing clouds as I lie on the bottom of the yellow plastic slide at Garvey’s park, and I got sick, as the incalculable vastness confused my brain, because I could never know all of it

Just like a person could only know all about themselves, but never that much of another, and this rule only breaks when you become so close to a person that you and the other are one