The soul screams at you from inside the meat
The soul screams at you from inside the meat. It says “I hate you” it says “You are right” it says “Look at how beautiful this is” it says “I love being alone”. It says “What the fuck is wrong with you” and “You know what those others have done?”. I am living with a girl and she told me that one of my characteristics was fear, or more being a coward. I don’t like hearing that but how I process it is “I’m scared to give away all the money I get every two weeks”. The thing is I have that thing inside me where I respect those who have character. That I am going to share their pain, that I am their comrade.
The soul screams at you from inside the meat. It yells at you because it’s dying. You hear it every time you keep those feet moving towards the life that’s not meant for you. How funny that I am still dealing with this. Who am I writing this for (besides myself)? It’s for those who hate how they are living. For me and them. I’m about to choose poor. Okay so can I do it? Back to that thing where I was called a coward. It’s cowardice to take the $1200 a week I get right now. Not hard at all.
The soul screams at you from inside the meat. I says you love her and you love loving her. You hate knowing that you are in love. You love love. You hate loving. You are confused so sit there late at night wondering if you love or worship. You wonder what is the difference. You don’t care and kiss her body five hundred times.
The soul screams at you from inside the meat. It tastes bad. It hurts because you realise how far away from yourself you are. You realise that you like things that are too expensive. You laugh and condescend those who are poorer than you and at the same time admire them for the very in depth soul things you want. But you hate people. Now what? It sounds like a board game.
The soul screams at you from inside the meat. How can you keep going doing the same things and liking them over and over. Dinner. Lunch. A bar. A cocktail. A first kiss. Yeah okay the kiss keeps you alive. But, another view. Going to move. What, all the time? For the rest of my life? I sat with her in the beautiful city of Sydney, on the water. She wanted me to tell her how I am planning to be rich. How she can be happy like this. I told her she doesn’t know who I am. She didn’t know.
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This reads like a song.
Bravo LW.