there is a world i feel i am destined to write

i am always fixated on procuring and then, securing energy within me. i reason that with it, the phenomenon of my desires depend only on the design i have dreamt them to live within and for. judging this rationale, i am confident that my dreams are not far from being reality--impassioned with vitality, i am capable of breathing life fully into my subjects of desire and the air they need to live within. however, focus must come quickly after, if not prior to successively capturing energy and swallowing it. for in order to digest and use my power effectively, i must be able to stop my mind to a certain degree and focus it figuratively. this struggle is ironic, finding that to be fixated on possessing energy, or fixated on anything at all, is to be actively involved in the effectualness of focus. perhaps at the point of this interaction, as energy and focus melt into one and make me move as a certain being, i immediately am overcome by joy and the recognition of achieving my dream state not only arrests me but overtakes me. as soon as i am possessed by focus, my focus retreats towards the attention of my new self. i become self-conscious in the sense that i neurotically want to secure my state of mind. and at that point in place, when i become most aware and nervous of myself, do i lose my self completely and fall from focus off the edge.




At the finish of every night, I find I have fallen further in love with the Manhattan I knew during the day before the darkness. It has been my easiest romance, and I trust that my feelings for it won’t ever escape me and know that I would be being silly to suspect that our relation could betray me.