 curse of the writer.
no deep experience, feeling should go unexpressed, unwritten just like adam said to eve, "let's not leave that apple unbitten" "it's glistening there, so ripe, just for us, friends of innocence, lovers of the sun"... yet "damned", don't we know what their mistake caused some mistakes can't be undone or re-thought after the fact, after the shame i know this well, a masochist, master, at self blame cutting myself up, from the inside out isn't self hatred, what's being "just a human" is all about? "nothing that memorable" in a sea of beautiful bodies who cares, who stops, take notice if most, within, are empty and rotting that's what it seems, that's what it feels place of "me first" grabs and steals of the light, "the spot, the lime" of every dollar and every dime to add to bank accounts, so stuffed to live your dreams, it's a matter of "must" be.like.everyone.else. "get with it" and if you can't "then just forget it" hopes and wishes, in the wind, they cry so bleeds the man with no one at his side for longer than, the fleeting moment if you're gonna pay a price, then at least you can own it the reality that, you live in your own reality and on "mockings and cockings" you developed quite an ingrained "doomed mentality" the violence of sex, the sex of violence learned it by ten, what "esteem" was, this "mine-ness" called escape from the body and a flee from "the self" spent 48 lifetimes, dying, trying, to be somebody else never got it right, for long seems that's the gift reserved only for the strong and all the laughter, that aforementioned "mocking" mix that with the unzipped pants, face plant, "cocking" the feel of the belt, cheap leather on my cheek oh, so many evils, that the awake cannot speak curse of the writer, or just an " out to pasture, put" cocksucker too many times, too many lines fed them, read them as truth, lost my mind... but never my heart, that's the other curse, it seems "too big, too much, too intense", no one needs "over thinking", "over feeling", see where it gets you, see where it leads... think, return to the beginning, "crazy kids", adam and eve blame it on the temptation to try to "love more", to believe when merely "human isn't good enough", as a kid, that knowledge, burned into me 'cuz what i witnessed "humans" doing to one another i could never let myself be. and though far from perfect, flawed and fractured, to forever curse of the writer, you cannot say, if i loved you did i not mean it, show it write it in the sky, for you, whether or not you "got it", felt anything, similar, back some of us, struck here surrounded, the insight, what this land truly lacks (real love, unwavering, and a truth of heart, innocence, tenderness worth coveting, treasuring, savoring) for you, i felt it, beyond rational, or wounds, understanding and so i risked it all beyond shame and "that apple" me, here, just a "forbidden fruit" bearing the curse of the writer and the "out pour of my heart" for the backlash, the back, fall "silence is golden" and "normal" therefore, the less words the better reminded, time and again, the apple, crumbled and ripe, the "not again" sin, reprimanding. bowen hart roselli 12 december 2020 ringwald love
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 panic attack.
(off the trail, off the track) all the little particles of matter, what do exactly, here, they form? something quite unusually unusual, someone here beyond the realms of "the norm" shadows of a stranger, forming steps towards the winds, fate, storming brewing, building, bursting through all it was, i thought i knew sight askew, as "slightly off" different stations, different troughs that we feed and drink, ordained some here laughing, some in pain different avenues, different streets different thread counts, stated, our sheets that we hop in, "jump in the sack" some claw pillows, preyed, panic attacks while some, their beds made latest lover, while love, it fades it's a bitch, a burden, a becoming quite bruising to wake up, aged, never "making the grade" unless "f" is for fabulous, "d", is divine "c" is for caring, "b", the heart bleed, hope, "be mine" and "a", is the last, in this reverse, universe "a" is for the apathy, averse to recognizing, in deep empathy, a curse... to "get too close" to the fire, the flame an enmeshment, entwinement for far too many, this state unknown or acted, as if on a stage, all a game boundaries of belief, crossed over into twilight nuance of noir, filmed, so framed monochrome, black and white "the zone", it convenes, "is it you or is it me?" and so he walks, ever onward, alone unable to stop thinking, feeling as the words, they flood, then fade, to remind him the search, it seems, is his only way, wayward forward, vision of home. (harry reems).... bowen hart roselli 7 december 2020 ringwald love  the kindest man i felt i knew
...and if all i have is this now, then it's the one thing that i never knew... i may never know who you truly are but could you spare me a moment of thought, even feeling to possibly wonder if you know, under your skin, who i am, or so the mystery proves... elusive...distant, removed. (but yes, I'll die trying, fractured light, the sun soaked, walking to the end of the earth, proved.. just as i tried, and died again wholeheartedly, with, and amongst, the unspoken of you) the kindest man, i felt so deeply, i knew. bowen hart roselli 6 december 2020 ringwald love  hi,
my name is utter devastation (think emotional/psychological) and I'm here to tell you a little bit about myself. I am known to a very special, select group of souls for whom my presence has made itself a continual reminder throughout their lives. Yes, every single man, woman in this life sees me, feels me visit them at least once or twice (death of a pet, loss of a parent, a child, spouse, close friend, that kind of thing), but for this special clan i am speaking of, i find them very young (and we know how this world loves the young), cut a hole deep inside them (such unspeakably ugly ways, you don't want all the lurid details of how i do it..trust me) and thereby make, implant my mark, "my seed", so as to come back and strike upon them again, in ways they often are too blinded, confused by me to see.....coming. Poor souls, i know, I'm a dastardly, devious devil, but some tribe has got to balance the scales for the more "normal" lives of so many people who seem get pretty much whatever and whom they want with relative ease. You see, for these folk I'm speaking of, all the regular rules don't apply. No matter how hard they try, work hard, pray harder, "be good soldiers", it doesn't erase the mark, "the etch" placed inside them, I've made. But it can't be all "doom and gloom", every hell has got to have a little heaven, so i am known to shine some individualistic rays of light upon them, give them some hopeful beauty now and again, otherwise they'd simply kill themselves and that would be the end of it, end of me, no fun. (the strong ones, they stay, but so sad, the ones that "opt out early", "off themselves", no matter what little good i give, send their way, every now and again) Utter devastation, i live to break these souls. Somehow they keep getting up though, these extra special ones, at war with me, my cruel, bloodthirsty game. That's why i chose them, although they'll never exactly figure out the "why them"... If they did, maybe they'd be able to outwit, outrun, be done, me. I mess up their minds so thoroughly, masterfully, that somewhere deep down, they don't believe they can and live in fear that I'm always waiting, lingering, just....around...the...corner. Strike! Surprise! Gotcha, another "not again' time. I am utter emotional/psychological devastation and i live to see the deep, wrenching pain in their eyes, hold them at night, as they sob, as they writhe. How do i achieve this, beyond the more obvious of my ungodly acts? (rape, molestation, beatings, muggings, murder, adultery, betrayal by a deeply trusted family member, best friend, loved one, kidnapping of a child, horrible disease inflicted on the young, car crash death, plane crash death, death during childbirth, etc...) Well, It's very simple. 95% of the time, something hopeful, fruitful, positive comes along and i snatch it from them like a thief in broad daylight. See, I'm nicer than I'm given credit for, I left a 5% offering of light, success, things working out, evolving, coming to fruition, hope. My "utterly devastated sensitives", so needy, wanting, selfish, i tell ya... But back to me, my wily, wounding, ever damaging ways... That job you worked so hard at? Eh, i make em hate you and show you the door, smiling, blaming you for everything, of course. That new romantic interest, so hard to connect, so hard to find? I make em disappear, forget you for whatever reason i want, or can find. That group of friends you thought you belonged to, made? I make em gang up on, talk shit about you and quicker than you can say "hey", I've sealed your fate and your bed, alone, once again, is made. Those family members you thought had your back? They just saw it as something to repeatedly break, crush, stab. That person you bonded with, trusted with all your heart, best of your soul? Surprise!, they really didn't pay you much mind, turns out all their kindness was a ploy for gain, or worse, just a momentary "didn't mean much of anything to them" product of your fucked up, delusionally fragile, ever still so hopeful mind. Because you are just "that kind". My favorite kind. Sensitive. Creative. Thinking. Deep Feeling. Seeing. Sensing. Knowing. And the all time worst, my favorite, "Heart on sleeve" showing. So therefore. Scapegoated. Blamed. Misunderstood. Maimed. In and of me, utter devastation, both forever changed, altered repeatedly and yet.. simultaneously unchanged. i have many intricate and numerous ways, I am utter devastation after all, and those that know me, once too often throughout their lives, they know, yes, to fear me, that I'm not some shallow attention seeking device. I cut deep. I scar the brain even deeper. "For life", and if i had my way, far beyond that as well, (think that place that i come from, hell) This is not some playtime game, nor for the weak, just the same. The clan I've created, they know and live with me by name. I guess you could say I'm unshakable, unforgettable that way.... and ultimately, my victory is to make them so afraid of hope, of hoping for anything sweet, innocent, rewarding and lasting, that they will simply live to outlive me, and the weight of my pain but damn, they are strong, i'll give 'em that, the ones that make it through, regardless of all i make so utterly devastating for them, "so wrong". maybe, when they least expect it, i'll give them a break and allow something good to happen, to last, the ones that know the meaning of the fight, war waged long... (remember, that 5% chance exists for them as long as they do) So live and love on, in spite of, and for me, the one's, "my children", the haunting of me, they know and feel all too well, and belong. bowen hart roselli 12 december 2020 ringwald love  welcome to the real america where if it's not happening to you, it's doesn't really matter if it's happening to someone else if you aren't fucking them, aren't family, aren't friends then it's truly every selfish for themselves beyond race, beyond gender beyond every fucking pronoun you can toss and puree in "the god just kill me quicker" blender selfish reigns as the soul becomes something to devour, destroy as we grow ever increasingly numb technology hookers and pimps, just the same dead-eyed kids, born with a slab of social media in their face all "me, me, me" not you, as in before, as in placed, the qualities inner character and grace things like heart, they don't pay the bills and they sure don't get those bank accounts filled to say nothing of "followers", attention beggars and borrowers good luck if your stomach finds you bleeding the bullshit in the stress, strain of "the sorrower" looking around, in horrid disbelief says charlie brown, before self strangulation, "good grief" as lucy now, does a lot more, for five cents has re-assignment surgery to pay along with an ever increasing rent bitch can't get by, with just being a girl that's not enough to hoard the spotlight, this world.. even if no one cares, really notices welcome to only being as good, of value as your notices notice of eviction, notice of conviction, notice of omission, notice of suspicion... don't trust those weirdo's who care, when not required or anyone doing anything beyond themselves, beyond self gain or ego-maniacal need, hole feed, to be admired in all the wrong ways, as in, for all the wrong things a buffet of sloth and "scarf down", see? "onto the next" and what they can bring.. to the party, "get it starting" "smile big and bright" for the praise don't be pensive, thoughtful, don't that will get you thrown away, not raised up, as in successful "deep" is not desired, it's stressful on the body, and taxing, on the mind it does not pay to be "one of a kind" the kind, of what? you may, won't ask? the kind that is alive not for "the game", the mask the kind as seen, "not up to the task" the kind for whom the crowds do not bask in the shadows, in the streets head held down or hiding under pillows and sheets just wanting to get the hell out of this place the real america now, land of the selfish, greed and gain imbibed, inhuman race an artless artifice, in the name of "no one else exists, but me" a disgrace. (thank god, yes, for the nurses, the healthcare workers, the caregivers, the caretakers, the few true friends, and the "last life lovers" that do, yes, shine and still exist here, outnumbered, in this day and age, and time) bowen hart roselli 4 december 2020 ringwald love  gimme everything, everything i want plus everything i think i want and it still won't be enough because "everything" isn't you and it never will be because, you there is only one irreplaceable, indefinable incomparable unfathomable, your mystery your artistry the art of simply being you. infuriatingly impenetrable, as in strong willed and sensitive, just the same belligerent and beautiful blind and so alive in all you see and sense, once and once more, time again so gimme everything, anything, to preoccupy myself distract myself from your absence, the nagging slow drip ache, the pain of simply not being able to be around you sit near you talk to you relate to you, not quite relate to you differences, fascinating but given the chance to I've learned a lot, explored your inner landscape, with love the parts you've allowed me, shared with me, somewhat, trusting then somewhat not a duality, a complexity that reflects the truth that lives, breathes inside me an inner war, a battle, a struggle to be human here surrounded by the suffocating strangle hold "same old, same old" rules applied, "looks like we've died" just a little bit more, than we wish to want to recognize so gimme everything... joe piscopo, in his soul shivering, heart throb, knee quivering prime plenty of money to never again have to worry a decent job, dare it have lasting purpose and a good future, benefits, pay, to match a string of nights with consistent, deep sleep the removal inside, binge like hunger, processed, garbage food to eat gimme tacos 'til eternity because they remind me of you the heaven i once felt eating them with, and while talking, soul sharing with you i knew it then, as i feel it, same, now knew i was blessed, simultaneously touched the tiniest things, the biggest, light brings seemingly throwaway moments none were disposable because they were with you lastly, gimme the courage to share this shine, this shit with you and not care, not worry that you'll never get, embrace understand me i am simply speaking the truth gimme that, gimme everything because i know no one and nothing is the "everything" i felt, i found i kind of died a little bit in the name of heaven, hand bit by hell just by standing there in the sunshine by your side. the gods know how i miss that, how i miss you nothing more, nothing less than it meant the universe, the world as in everything to know, experience, adore embrace, love you in the way i can, in the way i do so all i want is "everything", but differently now 'cuz you changed me, destroyed, broke and saved me for seeing a different kind of everything worth fighting, struggling for that's the treasure chest in you, that's what true I'd give up everything just to have you back, have you around but i still wouldn't mind joe piscopo, in or out of his prime, beautiful, "off the beaten path" brilliant man "different and everything"... just like you. bowen hart roselli 4 december 2020 ringwald love  to love someone give to someone care for someone who is not just someone beyond yourself beyond walls and wounds manifestations of the mind, fears loom beyond "lost" limitations, a lack of self confidence an embedded belief system, ingrained, if it's me, something i hope for.. something will, in the way, go wrong with it always does, "because, because".. seems that's what happens when you live for love not "normal" here, even though it's claimed by prophets, priests, and the playground ordained success, survival of the fittest, unfit copycat creatures, scratching, clawing, clamoring for the latest "look at me", hit song or scene or invention, intention "quick buck, quick fuck" "long list, good luck"... we humans, at least the ones remaining amongst the onslaught of others known as "people", all their shallow, soulless ruinous staining have a hard time, "falling in line", trusting it's true, when we find, like a miracle one of our kind unlike anyone else, that's the problem like some strange angel, here, they have fallen can't define them, confine them, to easy epitaphs definitions, molds easy "fit to frame" masks these few, amongst the "everyone" not the smoothest of paths, as they come rough around the edges and seams but oh, the insights, the "soul shine" it beams... of a beautiful, like no one has seen here before a mystery, inherent indescribable, all the more fascinating as, is "factual" always not something that, in books, can be taught some souls tear up every page, every rule by no fault of their own, they "just are", within the chaos of cruel the kind, the considerate the ones most likely deemed "the functionally illiterate" the sensitive, the "so then, scarred" the ones' who can see past this "lump of rock", shoot straight through the stars to a universe far beyond most, of limited perception these, the heroines, the heart throbs of "the dream come true" perception i carry within, that carries me forward keeps me focused on the "cherish" in a mind, a landscape, littered with disorders "disorderly conduct", i suppose i am that criminal as my understanding of how to be human, with a heart that gives, gets out of here alive, it is minimal to say nothing of all the utter failures and fractures i guess i never could make up my mind, other than to love, and to give a shit about it, what it was, here, i was after so full responsibility, to the end of it all i will take it, 'til it kills me i hate most everyone, but good god, yes i loved you and the only thing i dare try, "get it right", was to follow my heart and, for you, so touchingly, "fragile fire" rare, do the one thing I'm not good at with much of anything else... and actually, account-ably you, such a gift, to this world, follow through. bowen hart roselli 2 december 2020 ringwald love  teach me a new language the one I've been using is lost expired, outdated unwanted, ignored teach me a new way of being me because this way i can no longer afford same old story, "love, love, love"... some strange obsession with the heart, from above that's what it feels like, as in, that's where it came it couldn't have come from this dark place too many strangers with no light, no consciousness of anything but themselves behind their "no one, nothing else exists but me face" I'm a broken record, through the player away stuck on a skip, compelled to pour out my heart, "hope you'll stay" cuz the world i see behind my eyes i think you do too "so many thoughtless, so many lies" but then i realize that's just me, that's not you you could be the happiest guy or girl, alive normal ups and downs amongst your everyday manifest, thrive plenty of friends, "plenty of fish" in the sea, to connect, companionship, your wish if you've got the charisma, got the charm, easy then, normal to find and conquer, so many, disarmed not my world, not my magic me, the boy born worshiping the beautiful ones', tragic lana turner, marilyn monroe "harry reems heaven", and my mother, most of all the ones to give birth, my poetic heart, home a mansion in my mind, filled forever with the beautiful souls, remarkable a sense this encapsulating alone-ness isolative, it would exist there, never and i would not have to feel this, ever again, the sense I'm a fucking freak seemingly incomprehensibly intense "too much" to be anyone's idea of a "whole package", complete just when it seems I'm finally accepted, safe, understood, feeling my "everything, all in" whole hearted, to them is wanted desired of, good it turns out i was just living in a dream "impossible to love", for the long haul, it seems "off the charts", always missing the mark, so sings the song of another love, "of the leave slowly" lark so, i need a new language, i need a new way of being, becoming someone attractive, so "that someone" will stay feel for me, as i feel for them the question has always been can i manage to learn the brutal lessons, and when? not much time left, it's running quite thin "wounded isn't the wanted one" nor is an out pouring heart, so better hide it, eternal find the "turn corner", begin to "get it" now, or get "him" never as the dirt, half hearted shoveled over my grave says "just couldn't get his shit together" so teach me, a new me before it's too late I'd really like the chance to change this path, fate the one I've been, called "give my all and watch me fall" apart, not together, not in love, as in loved, adored by the other the language i speak, of the fool, when i thought, it translated, inside to outward the lover. and i thought that you loved it, an unusual love, unlike any before didn't matter, "the define" i gave you all of my heart, all my focus, energy and time i thought you felt, knew it but big surprise, "warped me", i blew it gave too much and said, spoke even more so teach me a new language one attractive, not repellent cuz I'd really like to be loved, mutually seen as beautiful, adored even if it means i can't be me anymore. (I'm ok with that now, i get the game, score and I'm really fucking tired of ripping myself apart for another only to find myself alone, stupid me and having to pick myself up, in shards, off the floor) not a victim though, yes, a willing participant how could i not be, it was you, the one thing i couldn't escape and like the school of seven bells sang "the heart is strange and dissonant" bowen hart roselli 30 november 2020 ringwald love  "i should've woken up at once, but this was no concern of mine" - front 242 - quite unusual needy, broken lost, disturbed borderline psycho, borderline everything less than zero, as in no sustainable self worth... fractured psyche, pouring out heart devoting myself to the cause of others caring too much, like a forgotten, fallen art too much emotion too many words too much emphasis on what it all means as if searching every avenue to the ends of the earth too much of too much and of "chill" and "cool" how to be, play never learned that skill well enough easily devoured, even more so, overpowered by the want, the hope it will all be ok tell that to the fool for love on perpetual bended knee he prays cuz love ain't cash, savings in the bank success equals money and status and power better get together, sooner than later join the "right side", "right path" ranks... stronger, wiser, "focus, focus" don't believe in the "hocus pocus" that tells you being a good human matters what's that? it's called your heart, soul scarred, shattered to say nothing of the effect on your mind who's got the empathy? who's got the time? uh, that would be no one or, on a positive note, one in a hundred, very few trust me, i fucked up royal seeing, feeling the goodness in others, and i know this is true as i count every split in my blind, stupid damage psyche clot every wound, tend every bruise thoroughly torn apart, completely spent, used takes every last ounce, the deficit of energy, hope inside to get through each day slightly more than bereft, beam "enthused" cuz no one wants a party pooper it's "uplift others always", to be loved be "super duper!" "super positive", superman and always lend an ear, a hand even if that ain't returned, that's not their fault, it's mine I've learned hand to flame, stove top of love, burned an exceptional student, at the "use, discard" churn but my p.h.d in "asshole" never got me anywhere what gets me aroused, stirred would give most of you, lucky quite a cringe, if not a scare sociopath, narcissist? yeah, my cock rock hard from this "republican dick", selfish prick let's get the mind fuck on, with this... "he doesn't abuse me, he just treats me like shit" big difference, distinction someone like me tortured, tormented, it's not a game for attention it's me. so open my skull, kitchen sink, wash my brain free you and me, from every ounce, absorption, this pain the belief in one's good, at the expense of the bad "damaged people, damage you" fuck up your head, condition the brainwash with a combined, sweet shampoo lathered, massaged, fingers in the mind "coocoo for cocoa puffs" these, the men, my kryptonite, my kind drawn, like proverbial moth, cliche, flame like i said, that's on me so I'll take it, it's easier lay upon me, all of it it's my fault, the blame. "lost" is humiliating embarrassing, ugly and overflowing with an engulfing sense, shame it's no fun, and it never was to feel like no matter how hard you try, how much you give or care, or love work hard and harder, harder still i always end up in a place, the same so just do it, like "screw it" I apologize, wholeheartedly for being me, "too much, too intense", emotionally, "thoughtfully" i surrender once more, i give in, give up it's me, i am the only one here to blame (see, that was easy, and it comes so naturally inside of me, now we're both free... and at ease) bowen hart roselli 30 november 2020 ringwald love |
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