"deafening volumes"

i wrote this on july fourth. i came across it today and it nearly doubled me over. i know now that i should always listen to what i've written because i never lie in journal format.
the last part is sickeningly significant, as the absence of something that was significant was about to be initiated. it was titled: deafening volumes [which is why i never found it- it wasnt dated].
tomorrow is september. haha i made it to september; fuck!
oh- this is unedited- obviously.



speaks defeaning volumes on the expense of actual work.
define work
breathing is work
and its 24 hours a day. without work there would be no life and so begins the drive to increase our wealth of living through work.
more oxygen im saying,
always more oxygen.

to let someone know you are unhappy is a confidence given up freely by the bosses of their own destiny. that indescribeably small chance of pre figured and curved future. something with meat on its bones;
headed for the slaughter. cured with salt.
im cured with salt [>] and my oceanic endorsements are limited to the before and after colors concerning wet rocks. step right up. the sun is expiring what light is left in the palms of children who litter the coast.

all ill remember if i ever fall asleep without my blood mutating on its way to my brain,
is the soft hands of a stranger
and innocent blonde concrete tearing my knees to shreds as a child.
maybe not the conrete as much as picking the scabs with some methodical anger when i needed to see real blood. before i was allowed to watch television after 7. before i came across books where hymens were torn, dragons were slain and used tampons were strewn about public restrooms.
soon blood was boring and thats pretty much
when my blood tests became crucial and frequent.

i was swollen with the birth of my body rejecting itself into a new life form alien to the status given to my brain. i thought about how people had no legs and were happy. i was ashamed but i was then crying for all of us. this tactic turned rotton inside out and was showing up on my skin as hives of worry.

-------
now i am feeling the closed in labyrinth a speck of dust must feel after being disturbed and resettled in a spot next to its old one. in the same vicinity, the same colors, the same lighting, the characters have alternated but ultimately the scale of movement is being harshly and progress was better made working,
breathing, 24 hours.

what do i do now with a person who cant use that information. cant give me feedback. i have such a negative feeling about the future of things---lacking any radiant features---lacking compromise, comprehension, commitment.
what to do when love has become such a falling failing frightening force.
fuck.

and then fight.