(in)titled

This is pretty weird, a collection of "bad thoughts from a bad day" that I found scribbled on a piece of paper at work. I seem to recall it was a tough day.


I

a simple gesture,
a forgotten motive –
listlessly rustling in the weeds, forgotten by the river
restlessly unhappy, sinking in a muddy quagmire
disembodied unreality: this is not happening to me, the familiar thought a lie
a fragrant breeze teases my nostrils as i sink
deeper into whatever this is;
i try to concentrate on that thing, one thing,
any thing
that will ease this constricting ooze before it overtakes,
inevitably intoning, no longer breathing, i sink

deeper
deeper
i sink

II

bloodied railways hyperextended
superficial inspection,
a matrix of spoiled milk and forgone
conclusions, rippled apathetically
into-over-under-indefinite motives –
mitered redolence, failure to
communicate.
meagerly anticipated, steel on steel
reprisal
in fatuous deference, alarmed at
my reason –
I’d rather be

fallacy of flippant truths,
I’ve chosen a better lie
it’s easier than smiling.

III

my head has become smooth from rubbing it –
i feel is a fallacy that i adhere to
i cannot express this
i am is more appropriate
i am disgusted with myself
i am disillusioned with my loved ones
i am disgusting
i am not able to remain awake
i dream of sleep is a useless euphemism
i am tired of being alive is another
but they nonetheless mean something
too many i’s make you blind

IV

i’m not breathing to spite you
why do you defend yourself
i’, just trying to – i don’t know
i don’t care
what is that to me
who are you to judge
why did this happen
it’s all your fault
get out of my head
get out of my mind
get out of my world
that’s the best you can do
buy me off with questions
not enough, i’ll get you yet.

-jakeStephens
transcribed 09.14.2005