gerund or present participle: coping
(of a person) deal effectively with something difficult.
“his ability to cope with stress”
Difficult: needing much effort or skill to accomplish, deal with, or understand.
Understand: perceive the intended meaning of (words, a language, or speaker).
Perceive: become aware or conscious of (something); come to realize or understand.
A guide on how to die alone

Future, money, age in lazy asylums. Trains – jetliners: ministers of first names lured twixt my mother’s lips, where my eventual, political essays quivered over telephones. A rat hole bound by numbers, exceptions of joy, car parts and general shit best described as timelines without lines, without time, statistics enclosed and purged by constant rings, torn hearts (tearing), middle-aged loyalty, and mornings thinly eaten by the sun… finally.

A course in life. Invest in gates. Maintain closures, warrants, and undertakers. Retire with “place” in mind and at least two failed marriages to assure you’ve closed the bite tightly. Rejection comes to life much like a book – like a course on how to be rejected. This is not something for which one can prepare. It is, merely, a guide on how to cope. This particular guide is inexplicably specific with regards to a pair of life-destroying components that cannot be fixed, that can only exist in a perpetual state of reimagining.

A. A first, obligatory, love is removed during early development.
B. A second, intentional and purposeful love is sabotaged by the prior, obligatory, absent love.

Perpetual state of reimagining? The following are 16 such moments of sheer self-destruction.

1. Invest. You mean to invest – with mention of the mysteries in love. You advise pain and pleasure as oil and water, water to stone, and stone with air (gravity). Self: the only victor spun in veins and fancy things.

2. Communist ideals, open to the restful and tiring, occasional ailment called recollection. Call a war a war and it is a war forever. Add a spinning “if” with “what” and torture is not a concept too far to toss and pair with just the right amount of time – with yellow lines on golden-brick roads.

3. Fame. Walls used to populate a belief in wishful thinking. Automatic, systematic cancer first endowed by a simple (very simple) sense of worth. Hounds radiating rancid gratitude for a sun-drenched, blaring alarm that sounds exquisitely self-centered from the very notion of “self” worth.

4. In a world. Alone. A singular, self-governed process caused by burning matter. That is the realization lifelessly sliding as the mere other train of thought when one overtly brands their artful life as removing chaos to oppose order. A long descent from anywhere called “here” to anywhere referred to as “there.” Fizzles all the same.

5. A variable shade of brown, yellow, or gray flares sputtering through a “willful” test highlighted by emotional rape and familial awnings covered in shit, severed neurons static as a fuse reeling for intention without a source or destination. So faith, my friend, easily served, eaten for a head and skin.

6. Action (or physics), infrastructures (or troops), and singularities derived and driven by any fit and able “pro” movement. Stating days and weeks and months and years: the first of such derivation. Wake! It implies you act upon your need to survive – find a way to become the king.

7. Emphasis is key… momentarily. Whether witless or outwitted, convergence is a fashion long destroyed by notions of Greek gods or the instance we all insured our death by becoming. Where is the emphasis on life if not a suspect in our own creation or demise?

8. Agree to mention a disagreement – that is, oil cannot mix with water but can share the same container. A kept log on life, a personal war, an excuse or praise or list made to fail, is each an agreement to steal our sleeping obligations that are not born of love or matter. Place and legacy are meant to rest, to doubt, to view as wedded havens cut through cognitive forests, centuries eaten by the preservation gene. Genetics itself – wouldn’t you agree?

9. Timeless standards, such as live and let live or forgive and forget, do not apply in the wake of September mornings or spiritual diets intentionally void of stance, preparation, and afterthoughts. Well, scientists spare our respective common sense with a more technical sense. October. Sit as well. React as well as act. And thought is constant.

10. Will “power.” Desolate riverbeds, impact craters, and mistakes come from within vice – the effectual pleasure of knowing when to slow or stop or even escape. Compare this same time from previous years, examine how you’ve taken pills to kill yourself without dying. How am I to reach an end without knowing the difference in steady, rested, full sprints towards nothingness?

11. As a swamp, the broadly quantified stability of “bottom” is no more stagnant than the glistening surface, and though we endure our codependence, we rarely praise it over the more lightly bulging and benign cyst we call our heart, where being is meant to list the value of others to find in ourselves, as well the shit we chew, purge, and slather as a mere wish to be without.

12. The frequent need to visit (place, time, or constructive criticism) resembles Jesus, or allegations of a christ. Plenty is the land we roam, though it never leaves us. Taken is the time we’ve known, yet we find it still, suspended without a time all its own (simple history is enough). And the empire we’ve conveniently fixed with hope has been painted with a magic film, a secreted and innovative pleasantry we call situation or happenings. Value in our reverse thinking is necessary yet rarely is it productive. It is allegedly in a state of evolving.

13. Margins to a planetary event, art without ransom, smitten youth hemming up our loose ends, minutes to be crude or monumental months to adapt a coming ease: these are ape thoughts, sultans of gain, or sin berating moons to burgle all the light and air from moments roused in ounces or thinly mentioned seasons cradled, nailed, or cringed through every tear. Dispersed midst the universe, we are defined by the minuscule, yet we lug a burden or two, a grudge, a relative city bursting from the cracks.

14. A singular method to become and one to “be gone” in this continuum, this delusion of being in love. Cowards renting cowards. Versions of one blatant mind-fuck rolling emotional tents along the river, waiting for the flood.

15. Drink. Smother the pain. Walk in space for a while. Cease below the equal line. Stop for a precise dialog, a sliver of God, an artificial man yielding to the boom-stick, the sling pulsed in quiet songs, wings rotting with the front-line soldiers simply trying to save the empire. A cave is not an empire. Violence is not an army’s will to live. And the con of expiring, in any sense, is that we succeed only in facing our demons – our life as it were.

16. Something that is without, minus something that was, condemned to the universe once again. Rats burrow holes for being without. Normalcy litters the streets – the peril in death and ticking wits. As the mental, long and hoisted, literal ash comes to rest… close the meantime, post-ideological wave of “right and wrong,” and emphasize the struggle has always been forbidden.