trying to put into words,

exploring,
endeavouring to understand,
comprehend
make sense of,
a troubled mind,
half asleep,
blurred by hawksridge.
yet so active.
never pausing,
to stop thinking.
why?
why?
why?
so many un-answered,
un-answerable,
and un-askable,
unthinkable (to some)
questions,
pertaining to ones personal existance.
of living/breathing,
being.
the morality,
or not,
of feelings and desires.
that invade.
PERvade.
at times.
intensified by a hunger,
the lack of.
"girls don't like boys,
they like cars and money".
girls,
and women,
will whore themselves,
to attain what pleases them.
and we,
in turn,
as virile,
pleasure seeking males,
are only to willing to accept,
if only we can work out the cost,
the price,
the private,
and personal needs,
leanings,
and yearnings,
of any given female.

and then,
as they/we, get older,
we see through,
the glitz,
and the fake,
and phonie.
suddenly,
it's all about,

"the future".

and the securing of.

for all of us,
male,
and female.
the requirements,
and inducements,
are pretty much the same.
but now the stakes are higher.
much higher.

and then as we get old.
all a person can do,
is strive for some level of respectability,
CREDability.
ACCOUNTability.
acceptance,
approval,
with not too heavy a heart,
or conscience.
but you can't turn back the clock.
would you WANT to?
REALLY?

looking back.

on a mis-spent life.

hindsight eh?

the pursuit of ones own pyrite.

when really,
it was there,
in front of our very eyes,
in your face.
pissin on your totectors.
well,
mine anyway.
to take,
grasp,
and mould.
as we pleased,
as I pleased.
we had it all.
and yet,
without knowledge,
you have nothing.

so the not-knowing,
the un-wise,
and we,i,
the stupid,
(and scared springs to mind)
squandered it all.

now,
as i grapple with the contradiction,
of feeling lonely,
in need of company,
but at the same time,
wanting to be left the fuck alone.

by the time i reconcile that one,
i shall probably be drinking my tj out of one of those plastic,spill-proof mugs that 3 yr olds have.
sustained by food ,
churned out of a blender,
the bain of my life will be incontinence.
and even that won't matter.
probably.

and i shall have sovled,
achieved,
attained,

absolutely nothing.

glug'glug'glug.

happy days.