a condensed soul-to-body conversation

what yesteryear's am i thinking of;
these places;
i think of flavor: and discover a hidden truth
to life as in
using flavor, i could let my mind consciously delve
into a sense further and deep, because taste itself
could take easily the universe of Time

no,
listen:

i discovered something fantastic
about being SENSED crazy
like i swear,
cock could never feel as good
as this Expansion of Mind and Existence
i pick
and pick
at a habit,
and surely,
it always does
find me.
fold into existence
you'll know it's happening
you know it's raw and experiencing
you know
your face just aged
a little you're face
has planted its fold.
okay,

but why are there such mysteries?
why am i always
so
cold
so provoked
by human nature:
i'm exactly like the world
i'm a soul when i'm not alive
i am
a destination;
apparently Somebody thought of me
and thought the Trip worthwhile. fuck.

my mind had tranced so deeply my body ached
and further ached, another sense growing deeper
and bloodyfuck deep
like, hah, now my mind has spilt
i must attend to somatic duty,
ease my tension
quit
thinking
for a while
for comfort
for reminder
of this flesh,
which
most times i think awful.
cold world,
stop reminding me i'm so vulnerable.
oftentimes i do not understand
this world.
the city
the scene
the wilderness.

the happenings of a story
are in the works
or whatever.