masturbating ego (playing with oneself).

masturbating ego (playing with oneself).

and by god, 
i swear, i think, 
i wish we could. 

note to self, 
everything you do 
is a note to self. 

you’re so selfish, 
self absorbed, 
i want the world 
to know it. 

clear off all meaning, 
just to be able 
to listen, 
but always speaking. 

never stop to 
and start thinking i’m the star, 
the star in movie, 
the protagonist in novel. 

(what a novel idea- 
breaking oneself 
to feel special.) 

all a special joke, you know. 
planned out everything said, 
all movements, 
preplanned motions that don’t understand the 

trying so hard to play it off, 
and be disconnected, 
making mental relations, 
while avoiding physical interactions. 
are you a lot closer than i thought? 

(can’t see what i’m writing. 
hand don’t move on instinct. 
don’t trust reflexes.) 

everything is filler, through filter 
in between the middle and the end, 
forgetting the beginning. 

so afraid of it ending right now. 

am no artist or hero or no thing. 
am so prehistoric, 
but the modern world keeps trying to change 
     with the times. 
but just wants to stay the same. 
remain like rats and roaches, and survive 
     through the nuclear age. 

waiting for shadow 
to resemble regret, 
wishing i wasn’t so mad at the oceans 
of my days. 

everything so insincere, 
but really just wanting to connect. 
you connect to me, 
me remain so disconnected, 
so unaffected. 

so fuck it. fuck it. 

(was, just been trying 
to make the moment special 
for self.)


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