Untitled Spontaneous Prose(Impromptu II)

You are my stencil
I have no ink
I am talking to nobody again
That's what makes this so hard
Summer has been cold this year
It's August third
And the leaves in the yard are yellow
This is not fiction
I sat by the sea today
It's bigger than I am
And smaller than I am
And it never stops moving and changing
And if it ceased to exist so would I 
My blood hurts
When I think about the ocean
Like it wants to seep out of my skin
(and into yours?)
Every part of me wants to go home
While I'm sitting here thinking this
Onto the internet
Out there in space
There's a microchip
That contains the biological algorithm we call dna
That constitutes the entity known
As 
Stephen Colbert
The universe is bigger than me
I want to sit by the bay everyday
Until my hair is grey
I kind of want company
Am I using the word want again?
I am careless
And in that mistake
There is knowledge
Or wisdom
Want
Want 
Want
I forget what it is I need
My wants are bodily
So my needs wither and die
And swell in my belly
For the world to see
The world is bigger than me
It has more veins and more blood
More notion and more symmetry
And without me
Or rather without
The biological algorithm,
Or yet again
The variables of the equation which expresses the biological
Algorithm  we call DNA
Which constitutes the entity that is myself
Or the components that allow the entity that
Is myself to exist
The world has nothing
For no energy can be destroyed
Einstein was a sad buddha
Enlightened to the point of 
Atomic annihilation
Nirvana is white light
That etches your shadow
On cement
Much like charcoal
In the artist's
Sketch
Well
Who isn't an artist these days in some way?
I hope that it means there's a artistic
Memic evolution
Of some sort happening
I hope it wasn't this generation
I had a worried look the other day about something when I was brushing my teeth
Who doesn't?
Come down from the clouds and lay with me
For christ's sake
I need an idol
To torture
My tongue is dry
So is my pen
My keypad is only a key pad
Until my blood feels like leaving
Look for John Chi in the east
He's out there somewhere
Healing the sick
I pray to him secretly
When no body is listening
There's nothing else to do
I need a job
I have a hobby
I want to buy
This girl dinner
But she's way too far out
Imagine if I could say what I mean and 
Never have to speak again!
Imagine if Anyone could say what they mean
You know how the bee's are dying because of fucking cell phone frequencies?
What you think is happening to your brain sac?
Ever talk to somebody who say they don't dream?
Where is the last indian?
He must be crying for them
Dreaming is 
Wisdom
Oh poor god forsaken son of this earth
There's only one way out of here
Even the last one
Has to go
Same as the first
Could be better
It's often worse
For your neighbor
No matter how good he has it
I want your wife
And your brother's kids
Triple H's job
And a fat cigar
There it is again
I want nothing
Except the ocean
And blood
And a body to confide in
Where is the last romantic?
Probably writing for play boy
Or making porno
In India
True art is born 
Crying
i'm dying, you know?
I'm not alone
It's nothing new
In fact, so are you
We have been our whole lives
Every body is on an equal playing field
Except maybe Stephen Colbert
Who's embedded on a microchip out in space
Hahaha!
The world is bigger than I am
I'm glad I'll get to know it some day
So if you find me sleeping
Baby don't shake me
Don't try to wake me
I'll be dreaming of something
New like
You used to do
While you were sleeping on the couch
Of our apartment
Some sad time ago
The whole thing is bigger than I'll ever be
I've stopped punching things lately
My hands feel soft
It's weird
I think I said
I need a job
Is there
Anyone hiring?
I don't know what to do any more
Loneliness makes you old
And weird
And I'm pretty sure I smell different
Maybe I'm just tired
Light another cigarette
Feel a little sick
One day I'm going to quit smoking
And there'll be nothing to left to write about.