http://slow.writerscafe.org/goliaschante The original writings of author addisone en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776055860 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 when I said I wanted to go home.. I meant... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/goliaschante/1990894/ And there were cups of tea full with last years leaves. There are roots in my bones that soaked up last years snow. And there were smoke stains in the window pane. New holes in old paint. There were scars on the walls that only I could see.And apple cores too thin for any worm. Worn down brass hand.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/goliaschante/1990893/ The world can be vicious so I live cautiously, afraid to leave the confides of my home in fear of complexity. Though I dream of feeling the sun grace me with warmth as I walk out the backdoor, like some transformation is waiting for me to take place and separate me from the crippling self condition.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/goliaschante/1990892/ You wear old clothes that smell like flower rubbed skin damp with gentle sweat from bodies in sleeping bags warm from the rain. You shop for things you don't like anymore but fit well in the cupboards left empty by a lovers passing.You trace the walls with your finger tips,'down the repainted h.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/goliaschante/1990891/ I feel it this time, without ignorance. Without discretion, as I yet again submit to a false corporate pretense of self. Watching people happier than me explain how to appear happy to people happier than me. All to maintain the idea that everything is fine, to tuck my white flag beneath my tie and .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/goliaschante/1990890/ neutral colors http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/goliaschante/1990888/ the cycle of depression http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/goliaschante/1990886/ relapse prevention http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/goliaschante/1990885/ Neglected the weight of careless love again.. How ever will I learn if I don't fall short of plenty every day?Absent minded actions with someone else hands in my hands. I can feel a feverish dance rush my nerves. 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You are the alcohol in Charles Bukowski's hand. You are the fruit fragments at the bottom of my wine glass. You are the unknown name of The Archpoet. You are the goliard in me. You ar.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/goliaschante/1820214/ something with a groovy bass line man http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/goliaschante/1820208/ Overflow of emotional distress, how do I turn the valve off? The alarms are being tested but so is my patience. Discouraging ideas that everything I know is wrong and holding stones meant to amplify luck and creativity, are a backwards tradition stolen from a dead culture America wanted to turn into.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/goliaschante/1820205/ I was a teenage rebel high on free time badly spent, I did all of my dying on my own time. I saw Jupiter approaching from the outlines of my eyes, as the sun shined with rage towards earth. Humans bruising beautiful gardens trampling autumn with bulldozers and shovels. The upheaval the struggle so .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/goliaschante/1820201/ The healing process after a heartbreak is like going to an amusement park on a rainy day. You can ride all the rides up and down, eat all the cotton candy around. You can spend all your money on pictures with family and friends, but in the end its still going to be raining.----------------.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/goliaschante/1820160/ "This famous linguist once said that of all the phrases in the English language, of all the endless combinations of words in all of history, that "cellar door" is the most beautiful." http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/goliaschante/1820158/ Did you think that it was over when your body was burning? When the water threw itself at you like a damsel in snakes skin? Did you think you'd never look the same when you were engulfed in flames? And did the cold water make it worse or what's worse than burning? I ask only to remember, we bask in .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/goliaschante/1819871/ recovery http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/goliaschante/1819746/ Is it subliminal? People like flies, dropping out of my life. Microbicide, loaded up, entering my veins to distinguish all the parasites in my life. Macroevolution, spreading wings through the thinning of my thoracic curve. Once I was a worm. Gestated in the mouth of dirt. Aerating the earth with my.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/goliaschante/1819362/ I swallowed pieces of my teeth yesterday, and it reminded me why I lose my appetite for days on end. I swallowed pieces of my soul when those punches to my stomach caused a hurricane that wiped out the streets. I swallowed white drugs on a black day when pain was coming down like heavy rain, ha.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/goliaschante/1819346/ Sensationalist, her words were like waves crashing against the remains of cliffs in the distance. Howling silver particles repeating lovers calls through eerie wind gushes. She spoke of cosmic connections and parallels. Her skin would catch fire in the eve of the morning dusk break fo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/goliaschante/1819321/ I seem to tell people everything about my day when I know they don't care to hear about all the s****y things I ate and all the cigarettes I smoked and the small adventures I took to the thrift store to buy a new coat. There's something dreadful in my head and I am trying so hard to forget like.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/goliaschante/1819319/ Dedicated to my lovely young friends, Benjamin Roberts and Kailie Roberts. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/goliaschante/1819317/ I suppose I could remove my pants. I turned the heater up too high. I rub my matching tattoo and wonder if you have forgotten that fact. Usually people throw away singular objects that are missing their symmetrical twin. Remove flesh, quick and painless. There is a patch of skin on the backside of m.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/goliaschante/1819315/ old dead love http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/goliaschante/1818910/ a fault in the timeline of my comfort http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/goliaschante/1818897/