sisyphus

i have a trust issue i can't shake. in his hand, in my dreams, in the way we operate.
sometimes superficially bumbling.
we are both voyeurs in our own ways; sorta scares me.
i am dishonest with the world almost as much as i am with myself.
i need this trip, this escape.
i need to drive away from monotonous boulder rolling, laugh, sing, marvel.
enjoy them because i haven't managed in some time.
look at different buildings, different time, different space, fresh place.
he needs time to focus without our incessant distraction.
desperate for food but nothing appeals; i have to learn to cram myself before i fall asleep.
she is perplexingly pleasant-- almost as though it were seven years before.
i bore myself and covet his blue hair only because it signifies a velocity i've long lost.
yawn.