I’ll tell you all my secrets but I’ll lie about my past…

(so send me off to bed forever more!)

d’uh. Of course I wish things were different. The past hangs from me like an abscess, dark and unknowable. But I don’t want to remember. I don’t want to have to think about it anymore.

That’s why I smash my head against the floor and run outside without a jacket, red rings blooming like radarscope in front of my eyes…

That’s why night after night I dream of tidal waves…the wind and the weather spinning above while a great blackness looms on the horizon

It’s a dream about inevitability.

The nightmare of knowing that there’s something you can’t outrun but you run nonetheless.

It’s not that I want to be a different person altogether, just a different version of the one I already am.

I want to be state of the art.

With cameras in my eyes and a sleek chrome carrying case for my pomegranate heart.



When the shit comes down and with it, the panic pure, I sit as still as I can, wringing my hands while my mind goes on tour…

(and I ask myself)

What would TRUE do?

What would TRUE do?

What would TRUE do right now?




jg