Love Stories

 

I don’t like the screen it’s bright loud noises make me start as jim said people are strange when ur a stranger I used to be middle class & now I am poor people who have someone cannot understand the lonely & broken the hungry face spoils the feast compassion I have in surplus but compassion to people I feel so intensely I should live far from them & yet I am attached I’m used up people can’t keep up artists aren’t appreciated till they die & then the liars say they were a on our side I appreciate sally for calling even if we were awkward I means a lot I would rather have an awkward conversation than no one at all in fact I think we need to have more awkward conversations to get us out of some knots or continue to destroy despite the love we struggle to feel but we love movies about it.

Richard’s been through it he says tell ur story but it’s harder the second time the 2^nd hundredth time the thousand & 1^st time always a different doctor jammed in between patients with cancer & haemorrhoids I’m tired I’ll stop not I sound like gd did like I’m mirroring her she my puppet master what mental cases should hang out with normal people or just pull the plug & live in crazy land better if ur poor recover they call it maybe it’s just rantings maybe it’s actually of value as I say people don’t read so what’s the point in writing I’m a poet what’s the point in speaking people don’t listen not my algorithim just trying to find some me time can take can’t listen headphones in can’t you hear the spirits scream & laugh competing spirits of the land spiritual genocide & people can see it so it’s must be the rantings of a lunatic yet when an Aboriginal person says it they say how amazing not realising there are similar things in all cultures before empires & we’re at the precipice of handing these over to a united dictatorship think twice don’t worry about me it’s not me I don’t exist just how you imagine me to me I am light & dark loud & quiet most of the day I stand out that’s all march to the beat of a different drum in the cookie cutter world where language has been weaponized & when we make ‘an I don’t have to say person uncomfortable’ it’s as it I came up with the words burned into my ear by 55 hard bitten years but pip squeaks who know nothing of the world cept what we used to call virtual reality in other words art.

So yeah I’m pissed that I cannot breathe amongst the passive aggressively normals who would prefer you were dead but they can’t admit it to themselves living deep in the surface of the canabalistic soul of man & yet an angel was born who would light the way in multiple locations called kids who we infantalise as if they don’t see way beyond what their parents try to teach them unfortunately school broken system without real existential rites of passage other than watching movies kids sexualised by the slave drivers abetted by their parents who can’t stop taking pictures read to your kids & let them grow up innocent they’ve committed no crime church man don’t try & shovel original sin up their arses or is it down their throats. What are you teaching them again? Virtue?

Still we bumble through somehow it’s don’t make anymore sense than Shakespeare thought I’m sick of dumbing down you ask me to speak so this is me speaking we bumble through until we don’t & then as they saying of bob marley who feel it knows it we find love. Divorce. Love. Divorce. Whatnext?

Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2026.