....relations....con't

and i guess, it is what it is. As I sit in my "room", basement dwelling, I don't feel connected to this anymore--whatever this is. Part of this is Dee, part of it Omaha, part of it poetry, part of it the world. I am ready to retreat. Retreat back to some other place, some other time where happiness was. I don't know where or when, but I'm ready to go.

Dee is cool, real cool, but it is temporary, and I can feel that she is coming to that realization, and fighting it every step of the way. What really drew me to her was the fact that we would move at my pace. But we hopped in the sack with a erection in her mouth, and that was my mistake as well...I should have kept it more friendly and not so sexual; because the sex comes and then stronger emotions come soon after that. And that is what it is, it's fucked up.

Now Omaha is and always will be home. But as Bugs Bunny said..."it's a nice place to visit, but I wouldn't want to live there." And that's what it is. I knew that I didn't want to be here for an extended time after I graduated. Atlanta is so much more progressive. The people there know things for what they are, and create their own, support their own, and enjoy it for what it is. Even on a slow night, we gonna have our liquor, our weeed, perform for 10 or 12, like there's 100 or 200.--and boy do i miss that! It seems that since I have this knowledge or experience I should be able to transfer, transform, and manifest that energy here into a viable scene. I can't be responsible for that. It now seems that everything I touch turns to mud.

And the poetry is leaving. I write, yea, but it seems more and more like bullshit. Not like poetic bullshit, just basic bullshit. It seems like I used to post good stuff, impressive stuff, but now, it's all bullshit...hell I ain't proud of it, but I guess I'll have to keep doing it for now....embrace my elderness...yea right. i'm good