Untitled - Civil war

10:46 am

at work,

having a staring contest with my desktop.

writing thoughts,
then scratching them off...

forcing depth to spill out of this Bic,
even if by accident...

my mind teases me with vivid words and complex thoughts
with no cohesive way of binding them into something worth writing.

Like when I had this amazing dream,
but when I tried sharing it,
the dream would filter itself
through my vocal chords
like fine sand through fingers...
Inevitably, by the time it had reached my lips,
I had nothing worth speaking about.
I quickly recovered.
and said it was a
"you had to be there"
type of thing

I realize that dream was mines,
and mines alone....
.
..
...
squigglys and doodles frame my notes now...
and as I begin to harrass my pen
for some more material,
I feel
my soul
sneer
at me and my

    fruitless

attempts to find meaning in the daily world around me.

how naive of me.

how dare I look for truth in thought?

perhaps I should search else where for comfort and reassurance,
perhaps science might once again be my candidate...


when I took up logic, when I took up reason,

I gave up thought, I gave up hope,

when I gave up god.


What charles never told me was
that I would compromise so much more...

...
..
.

I pray;
and tell god I no longer believe.

Too short of a prayer indeed, and
as I begin to harrass my mind for
more prayer-ly thoughts,
I feel my brain
sneer
at me and my
 
  fruitless

attempts to find meaning beyond what is known to me.

how naive of me.


I brush it off however,
because unlike Santa,
I am saying bye to God,

and he was real...