praying

Oh.  God.  and this is how you get down on your knees and pray.  this is how you move when you don't think you have an ounce of energy left in your body.  this is how you walk backwards into the same place you've been in for the last eleven years of your life and realize it will always be comforting in its familiarity, but it won't quite be home.  this is how you force a reality: this is one this is two this is three this is four.  and one is two, and two is three, three is four, and four is five.  when you get back to one it's five and nine and sometimes twelve and this is how your force something to be real.  the only reason i'd begin to think there might be something wrong is because i have a hard time doing what i'm supposed to be doing.  the problem is there are two "supposed to be" 's going on.  one's driven by the everyone else and the other's driven by the naked good.  the raw love.  the dawn and dusk of the every day.  the first is the one that counts with numbers that men make, and other is driven by the rise and fall of the sun.  one was before the other, and the latter is taking over.  i can't keep myself in a controlled mind inside a body of a frame that is told how to live.

it's sad that these days

how to live and

how to love

are only one letter in difference but belong to two schools from opposite planets.

so this is how i'm doing these days

this is how i walk into a church and pray, because lord knows i'm drinking my addiction like the sweet virgin mary drinks up my tears... like the emptiness left in a church on monday.  i drink coffee like it will save me, because lord knows i'm looking for something.

karma.

police.

this is how you pray.