After the fallout of my last breakup, I had lumps of poisonous material stuck in my veins. It was the nuclear debris of things that can't explain. I had to form a whole new vascular structure, but before that time, I could feel my heart straining away at a system of knots. It was like I could never blow through the damn stuff. It felt like I never would. And even now I feel weak somehow. As if I've got to climb a mountain to get back to where I was supposed to be.
This brings me to right now, where no matter what I dream, there's a sky that doesn't accept my prayers and dreams anymore. It's all blocked like a massive sheet of steel. And I shamble along and scramble along some days, but it's never fluid, and everyone sees it, and everyone knows that I'm a veritable Howls' Castle of bootstrapped rooms and doors and parts that don't seem to fit quite properly.
This brings me to the girl I've been interested in lately. I sent her a letter in the post, and the way I did it was by sending scattershot letters to addresses I didn't know saw her face. It was the old life-force that gave me the energy, and I was hoping for a reinvestment into it, but instead what I got was and angry reply on the Line app with 3 Line bears having their heads ripped off or being slammed by poles. She couldn't see her way to accepting them as normal.
And even now as I wake up after a vascular-constrictive dream, where nothing fits together and I'm all alone because I'm 37 about to turn 38, I'm alone in a room full of rich people; belonging nowhere in my own dream and shambling along as if there's no breakthrough in the near horizon. I invite people to go places with me but they don't go. I'm there for entertainment value but no one ever seems to place a value on me beyond that.
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