PRT.1
Vegas : Friday, November 2
11:44 PM
I am enjoying a Knob Creek and Coke (capitalization is key) from an atomic friend of mine, while spinning the wheel of my erratic brain. It’s almost midnight in vegas. A prime time to scratch out words and other lecherous demons.
Each day I learn something new about this place and the people that share it’s insomniatic malady. I’m mulling over the word universe, which is scribled in my black pocket book. By the way, fuck the word universe and the thoughts of its guests. These things: people, you, me, them, us, he, she, and even the “it(s)” - the category I probably fall into.
Sometimes, like at this very moment, it seems that I cannot stop the train of thoughts that are firing at me like Mata Hari (god rest her beautiful soul). Sleep will be no short walk for me tonight with the sexy strip glittering in the distance. It’s like a child carefully balancing the glare of a shared mirror to prick my pupils. I’ll turn my head frantically to avoid the illuminating burst and not before long the mirror is adjusted to ignite my gaze again.
So back to the drink. Knob Creek and Coke. Remember… Capitalization is Key.
Vegas : Friday, November 2
12:42 AM
I have met multiple versions of myself throughout my short life. Lately, it has been happening more frequently. When I was younger, I didn’t know that multiple me’s existed. I was singular and experienced moments as one. I was more strict with straightforward opinions. Life was a one way road without a destination.
With the nature of life, I grew. My branches began to spread. Grounded opinions and morals were met with stormy oppositions. The leaves of my persona expanded and were colored by the conversations of the seasons. I was cyclically growing, yet still grounded by the roots of my dogmas.
I don't know what it was that caused me to start splitting apart. Maybe the storms grew with me... twisting, bending, and even breaking my branches. They scattered my leaves and left me fragmented with multiple versions of myself.