Suffocate.

Burn for me.

Fibrous crystalline matter.

Burn for me.

Notes of grass and leather.

Burn for me.

I’ll only say this once.

I wish I didn’t have to give you up.

Burn for me.

Habitual since 16.

My first was at 10.

No fucking clue, how am I not already dead?

God granted chemicals wracking my brain.

Flem thick.

Throat sore.

Eyes black and white like film noir.

So addicting to the point of adoration.

Throw them away, but never can I erase them.

Burn for me.

Fibrous crystalline matter.

Burn for me.

Notes of grass and leather.

Burn for me.

I’ll only say this once.

Your love is like a gun.

Burn for me.

So much wealth, lost to fire.

Ask myself, what is my desire?

No fucking clue, not a glimmer of hope.

More beautiful than lustrous dope.

Pale and sick.

Acrid rope.

Smelling of blood and tar.

Took it long, took it hard.

Sucked it gone, took it too far.

Burn for me.

Fibrous crystalline matter.

Burn for me.

Notes of grass and leather.

Burn for me.

I’ll only say this once.

The juice is not worth the squeeze.

Burn for me.

Waging war with my anxiety.

Waging war with my bones.

Waging war with crawling skin.

Waging war and wishing I was stoned.

Devil’s dick.

Trying to cope.

Metric ton of bricks.

Getting hit by a car.

The pain is only temporary, but it’s shadow leaves a scar.

Burn for me.

Fibrous crystalline matter.

Burn for me.

Notes of grass and leather.

Burn for me.

I’ll say this only once..

It was never all that fun…

Burn for me.

Smoke.
Smoke.
Smoke.
Smoke.
Smoke.
Smoke.

Burn for me.

Smoke.
Smoke.
Smoke.
Smoke.
Smoke.
Smoke.

Burn for me.

Smoke.
Smoke.
Smoke.
Smoke.
Smoke.

Smoke. -Michael Ament

Quote.

Most things in life are inconsequential.

The worst thing you could do to yourself is have expectations.

You lose the ability to compartmentalize and you end up hating and being inconvenienced by every little thing.

Life is too short.

We’re all going to die, we’re all eventually are going to be forgotten, everything we build, everything we destroy, will be met with an equal opposite force and be put back in it’s place.

I realized this not long after I became an adult.

I threw away my dreams, my ambitions, my desires, my ego, my expectations of myself and others.

Ever since I’ve been living in spite of it all.

Living for the present day.

Living for comfort.

Living for love.

Living for the small fortunes bestowed upon us by this glorious world.

This glorious creation of God.

Now..

I live for peace.

I’m manifesting memories and happiness.

That’s all I’ll ever want or need. -Michael Ament

Dream journal: The Repository.

This dream starts in a park.

All of a sudden thousands of bees come out of nowhere, the bees have the ability to manipulate time and space.

Once you are stung you are transported in between realities, unable to escape as every exit becomes an entrance back to where you started.

Eventually I am teleported into another realm.

This realm is dark, the only light is a dim sunlight, like the light coming through cracks in a dark house at dawn.

The realm is occupied by hundreds of people from different places in time, from cavemen to modern humans.

This realm has everything you need, food, drinks, television and video games, and of course company.

But it’s always dark and always ominous, and it feels like something is watching you.

That’s because there is.

As I and multiple others try to escape the realm we run into a creature called the watcher.

The watcher is like a living shadow with glowing red eyes, skinny and tall, long lanky arms and legs; and has the ability to control time and space.

Every time we attempt to make an escape we are confronted by the watcher and transported back to where we started.

I eventually get sick and tired of this revolving door so I manifest a sword in my hand and hunt and kill the watcher.

Once the watcher is dead I have a short window to escape before the watcher resurrects.

I gather as many people as possible, about three dozen, and we search and find an escape, a black hole that looks as if it is filled with distant stars.

As we jump in everything goes black.

All of sudden we are teleported to the real world, in the middle of a busy highway, it’s raining and the cars quickly slide to a stop in every which direction because of the wet roads.

Everyone ushers a sigh of relief, smiles on our faces and laughing ensues.

I then break down and cry tears of joy.

That is when I wake up. -Michael David Ament

Journaling the Dreamscape.

From now on, in addition to poems and socio-political ramblings, I will be using this blog as a shared dream journal.

I will write down all my dreams, nightmares, and maddening visions here in the best detail I can from what I can remember.

I will inter them in this space as they arise, which will be often, as I am a very vivid and consistent dreamer.