Finer Points of Artlessness Parts 1-4

The finer points of artlessness

Part One

Here, let me help you- when you are using a dagger, you place it just so- see?tip angled up between ribs on a straight path to the chest cavity…wherein there lies a hollow with precious tissues floating free, vital bits and pieces so to speak- striving to contain something noble, I think.And so it’s neccessary to keep a stable grip and better to use a quick forceful thrust than risk an inconvenient slip and a lowering of trust. Subtle surprise is the sure way to success: smile winningly in your sheepskin clothes, mask your eyes so none will guess until too late, the gleaming razor edge shows…but it’s not really murder if everyone knows,I pointed the rudder to where the blade goes.

 

The finer points of artlessness

Part Two

But if you find it hard to follow through, thinking perhaps that my complete evisceration is not something you can do- have no fear, your cut can’t draw blood from these veins and arteries… they were drained dry ages ago- the needles in your words sliding in where you didn’t see and could never know; emptying bit by bit, the sad unloved heart of me. But… what you do not see is not therefore real, so no I don’t expect that you will somehow feel the humanity you stole from me when you sucked out my soul. It’s ok, I don’t want you to feel ashamed, after all… you are not completely to blame. Because you should know, if I stand in the street for too long, I’ll be hit by a car eventually and I strongly doubt that you’d even see, but it’s not your fault the risk I take and you aren’t wrong simply because no one ever taught you how to brake.

 

The finer points of artlessness

Part Three

So let me redirect your attention as I’m sure you’ve grown confused at my very mentioning of anything so crude as stabbing or a hit and run and must be slightly frightened by the idea that these are things you have done… or that maybe I would like you to do… or that you are doing now. But you’d be aware of it at once and see it right? If you did or had done those things somehow, yet I can see you still didn’t get my point…a message which is quite different from whatever you think… even though you have had more than enough time to let the meaning sink in through your calloused and apathethic skin. But enough of these metaphors: daggers and cars… I can see that I have pushed your intelligence too far. So I will just let you rest a little bit before I finish this eulogy in obligation as I certainly must…go over to that chair and quietly sit.

 

The Finer points of Artlessness

Part Four

L. John

What’s that you say? is there another way? Yes there is another method I must contend, one with a more subtle end. All I must do is turn my back to you. And while my eyes are away, you let little hints stray… to the friends and family that surround…and slowly run me into the ground. Then cautiously give the dagger away to all those who frown upon my now adultered name. Then smile as each one pricks and pokes and tears away little bits of my mane, until my pride is gone and my body’s weak and at that point you sneak the knife, into my own unresisting hand and slyly ask in a timid way, why I live, when ending my own life would ease my pain then guide my hand to my own chest and let me do the rest, under your “loving” gaze.

Finer Points of Artlessness Parts 1-4

The finer points of artlessness

Part One

Here, let me help you- when you are using a dagger, you place it just so- see?

tip angled up between ribs on a straight path to the chest cavity…

wherein there lies a hollow with precious tissues floating free,

vital bits and pieces so to speak-

striving to contain something noble, I think.

And so it’s neccessary to keep a stable grip

and better to use a quick forceful thrust than risk

an inconvenient slip and a lowering of trust.

Subtle surprise is the sure way to success: smile winningly in your

sheepskin clothes, mask your eyes so none will guess until too late,

the gleaming razor edge shows…

but it’s not really murder if everyone knows,

I pointed the rudder to where

the blade goes.

 

The finer points of artlessness

Part Two

But if you find it hard to follow through, thinking perhaps that my complete

evisceration is not something you can do- have no fear, your cut can’t draw

blood from these veins and arteries… they were drained dry ages ago-

the needles in your words sliding in where you didn’t see and could never know;

emptying bit by bit, the sad unloved heart of me.

But… what you do not see is not therefore real, so no I don’t expect that you will somehow feel

the humanity you stole from me

when you sucked out my soul.

It’s ok, I don’t want you to feel ashamed, after all… you are not completely

to blame. Because you should know, if I stand in the street for too

long, I’ll be hit by a car eventually and I strongly doubt that you’d even

see, but it’s not your fault the risk I take

and you aren’t wrong

simply because no one ever taught you how to brake.

 

The finer points of artlessness

Part Three

So let me redirect your attention as I’m sure you’ve grown confused at my

very mentioning of anything so crude as

stabbing or a hit and run

and must be slightly frightened by the idea

that these are things you have done… or

that maybe I would like you to do… or

that you are doing now.

But you’d be aware of it at once

and see it right? If you did or had done

those things somehow, yet I can see

you still didn’t get my point…

a message which is quite different from whatever you think…

even though you have had more than enough time

to let the meaning sink in through your

calloused and apathethic skin.

But enough of these metaphors:

daggers and cars… I can see that I have pushed

your intelligence too far.

So I will just let you rest a little bit

before I finish this eulogy in obligation

as I certainly must…

go over to that chair and quietly sit.

 

The Finer points of Artlessness

Part Four

L. John

What’s that you say? is there another way? Yes there is another method I must contend, one with a more subtle end.

All I must do is turn my back to you. And while my eyes are away, you let little hints stray… to the friends and family that surround…

and slowly run me into the ground. Then cautiously give the dagger away to all those who frown upon my now adultered name.

Then smile as each one pricks and pokes and tears away little bits of my mane, until my pride is gone and my body’s weak

and at that point you sneak the knife, into my own unresisting hand and slyly ask in a timid way, why I live, when ending my own life would ease my pain

then guide my hand to my own chest and let me do the rest, under your “loving” gaze.

Emergency Heart Surgery 

If nothing I feel is real

& nothing I do is right

what does it take to kill

all my demons in the night?

I see now I cannot trust

every thought that came before

so how can I do as I must…

slay these ghosts & bar the door?

In which way can I still

this thinking, feeling piece of me?

Tell me please I surely will

or trapped in hell I’ll forever be.

& Etc.

Seems the cycle is begun again.. is it every 3-4 years exactly or does it vary? History… right back to  the same place I was 4 years ago, even if the circumstances differ greatly.

I’m lacking true motivation which is necessary to break the pattern. I’m sick of feeling so alone ALL THE TIME. I find myself wondering if I really even have friends these days.

Lulu is busy with his life & his partner… Bri is occupied with school & her partner… Sharon is over 3000 miles and two time zones away…Caitlin has her family & massive time consuming responsibilities… Katie only ever has free time when I am working… I feel insignificant to anyone’s life, I mean honestly I wonder who has even noticed that I have taken a sabbatical from FB? 

And work… oh yeah there’s a nice gem of fucking frustration. I literally feel like another drone worker bee, heavily discouraged from independent initiative action even when it’s meant to be helpful. I feel tired, sick, unseen, overworked, unappreciated and forgotten unless I do wrong.

I really wish I would just disappear entirely. I will never be able to be healthy physically when my mind is so very sick.

The Straightner Chapter 5

Lillian had been both a fluke (odd & unexpected occurrence) & a flake  (superficial by proxy? )

Tala tried to reach her in order to recover the CDS & DVDs she had left at Lillian’s.

They couldn’t seem to align times and Lillian moved her things to her parent’s house before going on a four months pleasure voyage abroad.

Thoughts of Another Dimension

Children walk on their toes,

oblivious to the expectations of “norm” once they achieve upright mobility, children rise to their utmost height extending their ligaments to toddle on their toes.

They are present in themselves,

naturally curious of their environs, they adopt a stance which allows greater visibility and observation of their immediate surroundings.

Adults curl their toes toward Earth and generally walk flat-footed, their internal gravity assisted by subconscious impetus urging stability and conservation of movement. They do not usually walk on their tiptoes. Children “fly ” about with great energy because they are not yet anchored to Earth.

Gravity and the wisdom and discretion to understand and appreciate it comes with time, age and the inertia of gravity itself.

The hearts and minds of children are free & light; age, environment and time weigh slowly but surely upon all beings.

Forget the weight and gravity of your pain and past… we are all beings of light , we only forget that we can always skip on our toes.