…to stray from the rules of society in order to more perfectly execute all of our miscreancies; suddenly it’s o.k. to steal in order to quell your habit, or to lie just to have your lunch-pin…or to give up on straight and stay bent…
also: to work everyday; save money, have a house, a boat, 3 point 5 children…and get high the whole time none the wiser. These are the people who scare me…
Also i admire them…but that’s only part of an altogether different edict…
Maybe our grandparent’s neighbor raped us in his basement when we were nine, maybe a parent died, and this is enough to give up and give in…maybe it’s in our genes at birth, and the things we see in life shape our eventual graduation from pure to stained…
whatever it is…we Are stained.
Our proclamation is, ” pay attention to us…you didn’t before, maybe this will work…”
and you do. But, only for the comfort of your conscience and the foresight to not be remiss should anything lethal occur…
remember us as the 8 year old boy who used to enjoy singing and playing guitar with his dad and grandfather, entertaining the family at gatherings…
or the 12 year old boy scout, only trying to deflect the intentions of fellow scouts trying to re-enact your basement scene from just three years prior…
then, the abrupt departure from scouting to reinforce your boyish manhood and play baseball…
Or the tortured soul, certain that his life is some cruel joke of reincarnated punishment, leftover from his previous stint on this plain of ” X is tense…”
Don’t think that just because that same boy trembles when he sets-up another meal, that he’s changed…..
tapping his packets gently into the sensual curve of the spoon, and with measured exactness, extracts precisely the amount of water needed to make his mush-paste…adding it to his instant breakfast…
then…with the electricity of all the power in the Universe…
…your pin finds its home and sperms into you…impregnating your womb-tomb…
he IS that self-same boy, only now he looks like a man. But, look into his eyes…you’ll see the lingering specter of failure; the abject truth set-in…
the unwant to try anymore.
His proclamation is a white-flag waving; tattered, blood-ridden from all those attempts at the snuffery of his life…

he only wants to BE
his proclamation is, ” please, just love me.