this is my favorite thing i have ever written (i think)

there are people in this world who know you
not because they have seen you
or heard you
or touched, smelled, or tasted you
they know you because they know themselves
they know the wretchedness of being trapped inside the gruesome wonderland of their minds
and they know yours

when you were born they held you in the palms of their hands and hoped beyond hope that the horrors that had been visited upon them would not ever be experienced or comprehended or even heard of by you, knowing all the while that you would have it much worse even...

you were closer to the source then

when you closed your eyes in the sun you could see swimming in front of you the sperm that you used to be and feel that all you were was the egg inside your mother-forever being invaded by your father...

you knew but they had forgotten....

whatever the act which brought you into human childhood, the greatest miracle of all, the holy of holies, sex itself...
had been tossed aside and scrutinized and rationalized, and left the diagnosis upon you that you were nothing.
you were unmentionable.

in those days when you were nothing, when you were only a child, not yet of comprehension, nothing but a sponge...what did you absorb?

did the magic of life filter through your pores like spring water or did the muck of the mundane clog the arteries of your heart and mind until you were old before you were young, dead before you had the chance to live at all....

did both happen? did you understand? did you stand under?

under grownups who beat each other senseless mentally or physically all dayand then fucked later that night and you heard them?
under grownups who gave you flowers and pointed out constellations and let you believe for one second that good things could happen to you?

were you lorded over by people in authority?
people who stuck children in boxes and stuffed themselves in children's boxes just because they could?

did you tell these things to other children who looked at you with blank stares and had hot dinners at the table every night and god and country and mother mary?

did you explain these things to other children till you were blue in the face? until you noticed one day that there were no other children left around and you were by yourself?

and when you ended up by yourself did you notice? did anyone notice? did you take pills and other substances into your body so that you would notice something, anything and slip away for days at a time in your room? did your mother notice or did she think you had been gone to your friends house and your body hadn't left your roof?

did any of the people around you ever hear you? were you loud and funny in vain or quiet and brooding and by then met with exasperation at best?
did you cuss in locked bathrooms just to hear vile things come out of your mouth, the mouth that others misjudged so horribly?

the mouth that all the time had told them what was happening, but everyone in the world had stones in their ears...
had curtains drawn tight over their eyes, had designer clothes to cover their naked bodies...

everyone but you...

eyes wide open....ears perked up to anything resembling the truth whatsoever....

naked soul, raw as the insides of a fruit, cut and thrashed and bruised by the ignorance and ignoring that constantly surrounded you...

did you make your body a temple? a singular religion of self?
was that little baby's body now in some awkward state of symbiosis, an opium den seething with rebellion and a personal anarchy noone could fathom?

were you nothing but churning, gluttonous petri-dish of disillusion and hormones?

did you not, like the sperm-egg contraption you knew you were, look for something to invade...to be invaded by???

did you find the one like you, the worst possible one?
the one who was worth nothing less than the complete and utter sacrifice of your former soul?
the one who you lay on the altar for and allowed yourself to be devoured by forever on a continuum of soulmating agonybliss?
the one you had the exact same effect on but neither of you could allow that to be possible because if you did, the earth would surely explode like the sun and scatter the galaxies into trillions of pieces........

so you started denying and cramming every orafice of your precious body , that perfect innocent pink fleshy person you could've been full of anyone and anything that would defoul and rot away and pound itself into it....

then one day it stopped.

you decided you would die if you didn't.

you woke up one morning...you know the one...when the light was so bright they could create the name of a new color for it...

you sat in that light, swallowed, maybe you breathed, maybe you didnt....but one thing happened...you traded that moment and sold your soul to normalcy. to trying to be something those damning wellwishers had wanted you to be all along.

you surrendered...

and the truth stopped.

because your life stopped.

you were a writhing, frothing beast the night before...never more primal, never in your existence more real or eternal...

no matter what twelvestep program or jesus or buddha or mohammed or delusion of somehow becoming junefuckingcleaver or abraham lincoln, you HAD to get as far away from who you REALLY were...that murky primordial knowledge...in the shortest amount of time possible
by scavenging as much logic and methodically plotting to be as much like the others as possible...

you had to get married...
you had to get money...
you had to have babies...
you had to send birthday cards...
you had to do chores....
and talk to people in a language you couldn't believe you could learn so fast!

you, who had always spoken the most unfathomable truths, now wrote grocery lists....and sang lullabies...and held your baby in your palms...

but you knew not to dare wish that nothing bad would ever happen to him...

in the three o clock in the morning darkness somewhere in his first week of life you looked up at the stars and asked them to be there for you in seventeen years when he was a petriedish...when he was invading girls who hated themselves...when he was as wild as a raving wolf...
to be there for you then.
and to see him to the other side of honest, where you yourself had backed down and been afraid to go.....

and then one morning the Truth came back to you and sat on the edge of your bed and laughed at you...
a pitying bellow that smelled of ooze and amber and the sweetest sulfur...

when had you invited it back?

whatever it was that had cracked open the window to let in the first spring breezes had instead unleashed the laughing, sorrowful Truth upon you....finding your whole life incredibly amusing... that lonely childhood hilarious...your awkward, plentiful soulmating exploits making the Truth laugh like a bowl full of jelly....

the Truth sat beside you and was the most grotesque and beautiful presence you had ever felt...
the Truth was just You, afterall...
..the truth was that all of those children HAD heard youand that YOU were the bravest one of them all... for the horrors that you had warned them of had come to pass inside your own body....

the Truth was that you were going to take a breath as though it was both your first and your last....
and from the moment you expelled that breath, your life, back into the world from the depth of your ultra-absorbant wound, you would filter out nothing but Truth from the Muck...solid honesty from the tattered remains of your heart...

you would become fire and air and water and earth if you had to!

you would never again lie, evade, hide, cheat, squander, gamble with, or disregard your fate...your true nature...

you would sit in front of a plastic box connected by mystic electronic impulses to anyone who would read and hear your truth...

and they would listen...

they would lap up your soul like a kitten to milk...
ingest the things you would say like food...
inject themselves with your harsh unwielding truth like the most ravenously addicted heroin addict..

they would need what your truth could be for them...

desire the gorgeous primordial ooze you are like a banquet...

answer your questions
ask their own

from all corners of the entire earth they would wake up at night with your name on their lips...

never seeing your face they would pledge unending devotion... they would thrill you with compliments and desire....
they would wisely give advice and eagerly await your intuitive responses to them driving you all to the brink of the stark madness of your truth, of their truth, of everyone's truth....

we are all invasions of sperm...we are all eggs with shells and yolk so easily shattered...
we all have brains filled with fission...
we are all wretchedly beautiful and raw and naked...there are just those who are closer to the Truth...

who clasp hands with the ugliest of life and the most beautiful of death...

who barter in the currency of honor...

who trade on the starkness of the real rather than the delusion of the masses...

that energy is neither created nor destroyed...

that it is better to know and be right than to think and be wrong...

that the Truth can steal your breath away...

that laughing and crying at the same time is itself the only true language and that those who are fluent in it create the best art...

and that there are people in this world who you know....
not because you have seen them,
or heard them
or smelled, touch, or tasted them...
but because you know yourself.........