slack heart strings

not broken, just slack

does the world need me? i hope not, i want to be peripheral
get to the culmination and be done with it
then slip into the margins, be at peace with that
instead of conflicted and compromised
and thinking i ought to do this or that, but what?
well THAT would be good for something, at least, wouldn't it?
if i could rouse myself from this slouch

traz won't do it tonight, nor even the professor's soothing fractal rap
can't fucking sleep, too many details in my mouth
not even the decency for a dark night of the soul
merely dim, no dusk, no dawn

can't be bothered to not write this on my blog
won't shape it into anything of aesthetic value

this is where this life has brought me
laden with all this stuff that half-works
i want to get rid of it and simplify
instead of trying to make it all work

emptiness, patterns, virtuosity, digital information, poetry
white-knuckling it, hanging on for the next meeting
the upcoming show, guess i'll practice a bit more, at some point
the closest i got to satiation was a little sedative glow
maybe when the trazzie kicked in, made me dream
about substances undone, yeah, just writing
not trying to say or do anything

no direction, higher power?
yeah, maybe, i dunno, i feel nothing
just the constant irritation of being alive, sort of
live for another sandwich
forget to eat
gotta express at least, don't know what else to do

oh, people are okay, can't be mad at them
i just hate that i'm one of them, and they're one of me
mirror silver, that's all, nothing magic
i take it the reflection would be explained
if i thumbed through that physics textbook
lying on the shelf of the room that happens to be there

music is the worst, an arrangement of pitches, so what?
slack heart strings, i could still feel the sting
if the cookie crumbled that way, if things went too far
and one way or another, i'd keep from going so far
that strings would snap cause i wouldn't want that -
would prefer the annoyance of life to the draining drama
the self-correcting mechanism would kick in
keeping me in gear
the same gear, keeping other gears
in theory, pie in the sky when you die

i'm in the vicinity of becoming a buddhist just to be something
and have faith in something, or believe something
belief or faith, whichever one was the non-clingy one
in alan watts' semantics
just something, whatever, eenie meenie minie moe