You’ve got to forge a new path I wrote to myself with an asterisk next to the date so I would know to return and remind myself to forge a new path There are many asterisks in my notebook sometimes even two or three together to signify that the words within are really very notable although sometimes I can’t tell why

Should have called in sick to write songs in your makeshift studio den but you ate cereal instead and I'm smoking a cigarette drinking milk again watching planes fly overhead but I'm not a smoker no I'm not a smoker yet it helps me find the words for whatever that's worth maybe I should get one of those colouring books they sell to ladies who buy magazines at the supermarket counter but right now I'm smoking cigarettes

Intentions lost faded into obscurity as attention stolen from me can't stay on course beating peak-hour traffic with muffins and coffee the prime minister orders ID checks Kanye West says something lost to refresh a black hole has been discovered and it's growing very fast it's a monster memory transfer from one snail to another what was I thinking am I in a dysfunctional relationship with my mind what was I thinking stuck at 9% what was I thinking 10% working on updates don't turn off your what was I thinking 12% working on updates this will take a while

At 90 minutes please wake me from my slumber so that I may recall in detail the way you held me above the mire

To know and to do anyway the mark of a fool duped by momentum again You’re a pushover she laughs, nervously

Henry Miller, Sexus

You turn weapons of diminishment against yourself but no one else you wouldn’t dare it’s not there in you to do such a thing

Ever will I wait for you to heed my call beckoning you to an open door with arms outstretched

At great length I have soothed myself with the ardour of your gaze that looks upon me as if magic and sets your eyes ablaze

To be tossed to and fro in that ocean below sounds delightful she said in that book I had read I guess I knew what she meant how it felt to think that Not to fall to demise amid anguished cries but be moved by a force much greater than I

Woman, I know of the pendulations of your mind the tears spilt for no one and no thing and how electric thoughts make it all feel so real I’ve observed you in a million different scenarios that tell me it ain't so now just sit back and watch the show

She didn't want to drown

Life, it seemed to her was just one big conversation with herself in a hall of mirrors

(they have samples?!) Old people are mysterious and poetic You can always write a poem about an old person on a bus or a park bench I wonder how many old people have unknowingly been subjects of poems by young people who want to write a poem about something other than themselves

I can never land a blow