20. I'm J▲ckson | NYC~.
Music Producer, Musician
How do i feel?
i don’t know how i feel about anything.
last night i was contemplating weather one can be conscious of ones consciousness
& met with abrupt frustration. Coming to grips with the harsh reality that I’m not as smart as i think i am. or know i have the potential to be.
the entire theory of consciousness baths in irony and i pisses me the fuck off.. I mean what the fuck is the fucking point of doing any fucking thing. none, no point, no reason, nothing.
so, i guess to answer my initial question. i feel discouraged.
I need a reason.
My body wears the stench of men
who made shelter between
ones that I’ve
trusted enough to
not check if
their foundation was sturdy enough to
bear with persistent hurricanes
To them belong parts of me that
have been permanently reduced
condemned to memoralize
that is not the way he would touch me
these are not his hands
Neruda said, come with a thousand men between
your breast and feet
to you I come eyes closed