Spillage

Trying to generalize the way I feel with a word like fear or uncertainty or with a term like self-conscious overly and blatantly simplifies the kind of emotional struggles I’m (and most of us [are]) dealing with. The act of doing so is confusing, misguiding, heartbreaking, tiresome, and a betrayal to growth and personal prosperity. It’s fucking QUINTESSENTIALLY abysmal. I need to be a friend, I don’t need one; I need to be one. I need to be a fucking friend and be there for my friends in a world where emotional matters matter most. We are all trying to make money. We are all trying to survive in a dog-eat-dog-fuck-cat world where we feel it is our DUTY to our NATION and HUMANITY as a whole to be put in boxes- all red and white and black and grey. The world loses its color, life loses its spark; passion is replaced by struggle, the fight for your dreams turns into a fight for your life, a damned determination to prove to your fellow man that you are their fellow man, their fellow survivor, their fellow hunter and for that you lose meaning to your struggle. Emptiness is essential in this world where you are deprived of a means whereby you can discover your soul.

But all may not be lost. Introspection may lead to speculation if the mind is in control… but what if the gut is the medium for separate functions in the mind? A reference, if I may? A filter between synapses-firing? If the mind controlled only two-thirds of the battle and the gut the rest, the center, the part of you that senses its surroundings, itself, the part that is aware of the life that transmits from your whole being, the light! What if that light was used as a guide, and the brain did all of the logical thinking? What use is there in THINKING about emotions if they happen regardless? The conscience resides in the gut, in the soul, in the center of your being. Personality [personal-morality?] is born in that department, and raised upstairs. The gut must be used to make those decisions; you must be able to find where your gut takes you even if your mind is too attached to another idea.

THIS IS A LOSS OF CONTROL. The mind needs control. Craves it. Feeds on it like a parasite; the mind can lead the body to do things that [literally] destroy itself. The gut knows better, the feeling is there, but the mind may suppress it, it may label it, it may give it another name and call it Nancy-Fucking-Drew [official title] but its misguiding. Imagine ordering an apple juice, but you get an orange juice. You wanted a transfuckinglucent apple-flavored sweet and tangy beverage and instead you got the pussiest citrus in the family with all its pulpy un-glory in front of you. What’s the matter? It’s still juice? Even more specifically, its fruit juice, so what’s your problem pussy? The truth is they’re apples and oranges my friend. Apples and fucking oranges.

follow the leader

people need guidance. why? why do we need a leader to follow? is that because thats how it is, its tradition- theres always been a figure head? was there ever a time when there was no head, no patriarch, no monarch, no politic, no head-honcho? what would the world be like if we were all wolves? all sheep? all head honchos or all minions? WHAT WOULD WE DO?

Youd bow down before greatness, youd pray for the fates to change yours but its late and youve got chores your cows arent fed its almost time fo bed but your head is filled with thoughts of the palace, of those in power through some self-proclaimed phallus of god spreading seed that was passed down the line, generations of king but only one was there for mine, for me, for the birth of your freedom. come one come none come many or some but those that gather, gather in tight we cant let our precious be scarred by sunlight we cant let the skin, so soft and so pale be touched by the UVs or be radiation assailed. he cant see a drop of sadness or pain so when its his turn to rule once again we will have disfunction and disease, we will have no understanding of living in the trees, no knowledge of whats really outside when your bed was mosquito netted but your man-servant died. Malaria kills those without money for protection- magics out of the bag even HIV passes inspection so im spreading my seeds, im sewing my oats- at least more smart handsome men will be inhabiting this godforsaken globe.

ah shit i forgot what i was doing.

... but it doesnt matter. long as im doing it according the the impulses of my heart and my desire, my own thrust-for-hire my push for the fire my coal on the burn ill set it off light it up and pass after the burn exhale after your heads filled with rhymes that i churn you should consider fillin your tank with liquid concern. your sight needs alignment and your objectives need balance- theres a firestone special for you cherry valance now hop into my car where we can go far ive greased this thing up to get us through to marrs we're slipperier than air but do not despair stabilities a headache away and a 9 to five for solid pay. too bad the stress from answering phones is no longer abated by your hunger for prone. seafood sick and tired of your bosses prick you should consider modeling or acting your should have followed your dreams but the life that you chose walked you out of your seams so you're sweater's unraveled and your walking naked the floor is too cold but youre baked so that makes it a good night take flight sleep tight and dont fight it- this is the way you lead your life- undecided.

so what will you be when you grow up?

Me.

been a minute.

but im back. for what reason unknown- but subconcious is overridden so my head is throbbing. i have too many issues of time to waste with watching these animated representations of a cooler life than mine so lets rewind- ill show you some time about a guy with no crimes, no rhymes, no push come to shove- he had no balls and two holes in his glove. he didnt make love he had consensual sex but the ex never gave him back the three thousand dollar dress so his next best bet was to put it in a vet, he could have some fun with the top down in the sun and the resale would be fine he'd cover his ass in time but the economies shit and hes getting nothing from craigslist until a foreign deal comes along, he ships it to hong kong to find the bank cheque aint shit and his car is being split apart for parts in some chinese black market shop so he starts panicking- his last investment vanishing his hope is gone splinters of his remnant heart and long forgotten past sting his bare feet as he shuffles on past the door onto the bed that he bought from ikea to rest his head. thank the lord for throw pillows as he muffles the shot, but instead knicks his jaw and cripples his last thought. the man now bleeding, crying and seething, mad at the world for treating him poorly, mad at his ex for not leaving the jewelry, mad at the man who conned him out his car but he forgets the good things in store. the things in storage if he had only known, he had a 65 cadilac decked out in chrome- he had a three story house furnished floor to ceiling but the only thing he found more appealing than the gold chandelier with real oil lit lamps was the lady he saw struggling up the ramp. he eargerly rushed to help her move along but when he turned around the vision was gone- goodbye goodbye my mansion in the sky thought the slack-jawed failure with despair in his eye. his fire forgotten, his huge heart was rotten, his drive to survive to outlive and out shine to best himself and to try to top the very best all while jivin the the rhythm that flowed through him- the warmth that consumed him, the fire to fuel him. but hes been runnin on fumes for days with no shoes hes amazed at how used his feet are to the asphalt- theyre suprisingly firm... theres no shame in being human, this much he has to learn, and as he takes a step off the curb and into the traffic his heart beat flares as do the blares of the half-shit half-sick music he hears as he goes down, another sad song for history, another failed tom tom.

if my fires an ember than its at an unbeatable stage itll his at your spits and only feed off of sticks and it will utilize stones to melt down for thicker skin ill use whatever edge i got until it means that im in so if my sidewalk ends ill jump from street to street ive got nowhere but up and knock-offs on my feet but i wont miss a beat cuz the clock never stops ticking the unforgiving minute never stops nor does it quiken but itll sneak up on you when you expect it least take your doubts and your fears and leave them on the street.

the world is WIRELESS

Or at least it should be. Now we have wireless electricity. now we can power up through the air, by magnets and radios- its Tesla's dreams come true. a beam of electricity for you, and for you, and for your cellphone too. for your tv and radio, for your ipod and telephone (assuming theyre separate things)

So I've been playing on these wireless controllers for the ps2, praise jesus, and i couldnt help but think what are these waves doing to scramble my aura? if anything? i guess they dont have an effect, the FCC would've outlawed 'em buy now. not a typo. bis'm allah. I keep thinking these things would be the greatest if the congo wasnt raped to create it.

Kids, stop raping Congo.

No, she doesn't like it. Thats why its called rape.

I dont know why her name ends in a masculine "o". Ask her yourself.

She cant talk? take your dick out of her mouth and let her speak. Pick her up. Dust her off. Reassure its not all lost. When she cries, tell her lies. Tell her the world is made of flies, and if enough bug-off is sprayed the world will just disintegrate. a billion wings on half that of flies will ascend into the skies, revealing a soft and squishy core made of toffee (praise the lord). And if she giggles with delight let her rest up through the night. When the sun shines new again tell her it shines for her and then leave her alone because youve done more horrific things than what we've sung.
ew.

allnighterr

Another all nighter, hooked up by wire, a channel for fire, the white hot electricity dances through the air to emit glorious sound, Bubble yum for the ear drum, a ripe plum for the anvil, a kiss for the hammer, i hope my bones dont break, i hope my words arent fake, i hope my dreams will take place so i can give chase to the next goal.

No more dreams, only future realities. A day spent to dream away is one less day to see it face to face. forced, my eyes fixed to the screen bioshock! drill armed monsters creeping from the shadows, heartbreaking killers and beat skipping gameplay, every beat is one beat where i stay the same distance away from my current aspirations. What is my goal? What is my superobjective? I wish my spectrum of verbal expression was more than roygbiv, maybe then could i explain why i live the way i live. indulgence is key to anyones downfall, desire is delusion, to aspire an allusion to the gita where its said that this body is a vessel, the sould is the spirit is the drive it keeps you alive it breathes the dusty air of travel into your lungs and the vivid surge of determination through your veins. the soul is the drive, and mine is alive, it can never die. But the beauty in the body is more than one can comprehend, the form of a woman will send any holy man off the deep end. The most practiced monk will send his vows into the air when the visage of a woman with long luxurious hair, skin smooth beyond compare, well endowed with a pair of ripe nectarines, no such thing as this will be longing for a kiss for if her lips are longing the men will come flogging and flaying, screaming and slaying, any action imaginable for just a sweet kiss, just a drop of honey from her lips, but hot blood in them has already risen, so when they attack they think not of prison, their judgment is clouded, their foresight obscured, the freedom of walking unclad chains abound they walk silently away from the crowd and into the car.

you have the right to act as you will, provided you accept the consequences.

From my creativity page

Kisses

The connection was fierce, it was fiery and true
Too bad this connection came after our lips were through.
(Too bad this connection left me Black and Blue!
This next one was gentle, loving and full
But she snatched my credit cards, cash and red bull.
I had one so amazing it make my heart leap
Till after she forgot about me in a week.
There was one so electric, my soul lit on fire
But she raided my weed stash and called me a liar.
But One was so magnificent, that when it was done,
My energy synchronized with the golden sun
My life had meaning, like it just had begun…
But she shot my heart with her sawed-off shotgun.
See kisses are beautiful, wondrous and new,
But wariness can be the strongest of virtues.
And sooner or later if you decide not to choose,
One of these kisses could be one that kills you.