Smaller Pieces

I'm here in Medford. I rode out to buy some Damar resin. Encaustic, I am going to paint tonight. 

I am flashes of feelings that swallow my entire being. I hold on to my handle bars. I blur at 80 mph relative to the road, pray every ounce, strength of will into my finger tips and out of my ears.

The last whole life has been a lie

All of it and there are so few relative truths that 80 mph is relative to concrete is an effect of gravitational forces seems more real than anything else I can hold.

I need to get the fuck out of here 

Europe, Latin America, Mars: incorporates into dark matter

I've thought about checking myself into a hospital 

Or a mma ring

Instead I pray into my finger tips and the loose hold I keep on the throttle

I'm going home to paint in hot wax

Colors that have never been seen before