tree_smiley

another attempt at constructing oganized thoughs

2008-03-25T07:55:18Z

false identity swiftly carrying my soul,
light as a feather,
soaring high above my reflective armor
protecting my temporary illusion, that is my carriage, for now,
I've willingly become aware to the maximum extent of finite potential,
theology be thy scapegoat,
allowing these rambles to continue in their spontaneous
bursts of excellence repeating;
again, again, then flawlessly attempted one last time.
The third time yet again presents results immaculately dressed
with synthetic promises, meth i.e. the present opiate consumed by the masses, lost in thought, trapped by regret because those clinched backs have revealed
gifts passed on, and down, propelled with fuel constantly pushing
these lost sheep, further and further into debt. A quarter misplaced on a common path of concrete yet again
became nearly impossible to pick up as we sat idly sat and let
anxiety and impatience double their insurance premiums mandated by
every slice of imperial pie poisoned so obviously that my forehead hurts
from a slam into the table because of great disbelief is expecting relief
dumped into dirty hands out of bottles manufactured by the thousands in
the shortest distance between throbs and sighs of relief.
Evolution most likely will gain trust through thoughts
inspected by these epiphanies left exposed and vulnerable by
my careless desire to gain more and more only to have comfort
imitated and surgically attached to me half-hazardly in a mist of calcium deposits firmly assuring your bill printed of carbon slips,
turning your day upside down, shattering porcelain grins.
constant chaos provided by a bang, a god, a near miss, an accident, something definitely can be blamed for this thought flowing from muscle to hand fueling my attack on these keys, but the mere thought of interpreting this existence is so far behind us that all we can do is theorize and
settle into another level of comfort received by pounding fists into personal structures of fragile pockets of confidence.
A traditions of the majority is trapped in cells manifested by conclusions on these super highways, spanning the massive width of our fat empire.
Ran by Mr. Fat Head XLII from his seat on a bar stool perched above his fathers kitchen table built with rare pieces of timber harvested from the battle fields unseen and unknown to most, undiscovered brothers and sister destroyed everyday. Please learn nothing, please don't think about these concepts morph without delay constantly, all we can do is attempt to care enough to make changes exclusively fabricated into paper thin ladders stacking until flames burst inside layers of our protective mothers fist clenching your hand on the curb preventing free flight mystified by you and the rest of your adolescent siblings still radiating with songs of innocence. These moments never repeated, this river stepped in only once, ever changing symbol of inner peace allowed by concepts beautifully stuck in willingness trampling the souls held captive by her beautiful redirection of my ability to reason. I'm now lost and being drug around by my temporary residence storing my blood that usually flows into my cranium, epicenter of moralities.
from the jet doors that I unnecessarily paid for solely to stroke my ego shrouded by ever present doubts laced with over analization.
sincerely chasing adventure until I collapse, I'm rightous too, or not thank you.

monday?

2007-04-16T23:26:00Z

symphony of silent sleepings,
mellow brains roaming around the corners of this house,
thoughts laced with restless nights,
tossing,
turing,
nightmares aren't has frightning when time is taken,
to look down at your palms and let yours eyes focus,
between the lines,
find yourself in a box?
I'm out,
need to stretch out,
excrete,
a dirty copper scent, eyes glazed,
minds dusty,
hands quicker than lightning,
when will the world of commerce synchronize,
on a break from these plastic cards,
and metal locks.
on the roof top,
screaming,
are you chair or man,
no response signifing,
chair nor man,
but god,
oh eloha, al li li,
da muhhamad,
de la rosa ouh la..
note to a friend,
this? thank you. I like this too,
I want to go in the secret room.
it has little reminders of the old secrets we hide,
labeled with safe reminders of retirement.
a hole in my head,
getting filled with something,
get me out of this state.

sick of florida, monday I think...

bye kurt

2007-04-13T19:14:11Z

hi ho,
fell in the shower,
what a way to go old fart,
so human,
when a humanitarian dies,
where does his human thoughts lay,
that six pound muscle rotting,
letting the worms eat all ideas on how
to fix this dirt.
maybe they're better there,
one day,
mother earth will shout!
enough is enough,
then it'll be so,
a dream of me running, screaming,
child labor isn't something to be proud of,
the sign that I didn't see,
no shirt,
no shoes,
no big fucking deal,
crossing the mason dixon line,
a little reminder,
pick your battles, war is hell,
fighting to die together,
dying was feeling pretty good until the grandfather,
infallible to human death,
ending on a predictable note,
real life not living up to your words,
in the beginning their was a word,
or nothing,
then something,
so it goes,
the south carolina man broken,
suffering the same fate,
cigarettes,
whiskey,
whores,
that isn't the end,
a fall in the shower,
I love a good bit of irony in the morning.
thank you l.s.d.,
thank you old friend,
I'll never meet you,
or not.

April 13, 2007

black star

2007-04-12T06:07:34Z

the muslim down the street,
wore a towel that none of us saw
there is no god except the word we say,
can you walk with my word,
beating on a free newstand,
denied entrance to the staple of consumerism because I forgot warm feet,
the man inside wearing a beard denied his money yelling,
how do you mother fuckers even know you exist?
child labor is a bitch,
don't return your shit, burn it.
then I opened my eyes,
out of my talk with buddha I saw a wonderful magnitude of colors,
surrounding those eyes,
two by two by two they go,
or not.
a little black girl said hello,
where are your shoes?
do you need mine?
her name was star,
what a sweetheart, she gave me candy.
that'll do today, one face at a time.
blake was right or wrong,
personally I don't want innocent child eyes,
or the eyes of the junky I saw while looking through the the reflective image of the pane to our, I mean his soul. sing those songs of innoncence, those songs of experience,
war!
fucking war!
not even a god damn recylcing program in my new box, the fucking penis of the god damn country,
follow all the plastice here, from sea to shining sea out the tip urinating into the atlantic ocean, the spirit of saint louis proving yet again all we have to show for this race to exist is transportation.
who's complaning, we are getting a bus.

orlando, florida april 12th

Further away than far away

2006-10-13T09:16:36Z

I drew a blank,
and I pushed on,
all I need now,
a tight pussy,

Never felt this old,
Never felt this dumb,
Never felt this complacement,
Never felt the final blow,

Why am I writing this at 5:05 a.m.
-swig

-contomplate cigarette -boredom -how'd my light break, it still works

A Man,
A man is,
A man is nothing,
A man is nothing without something,

typing is quicker,
but my hands get bored of pounding,
I miss the vulgarity of a swift pen jab,
then a quick hook and I've created,

A time without placement,
a face hueless,
a man vomiting,
reflection displaying the calm ambience of silence,

still writing - 5:09 a.m.,
I miss home, it's 2:09 a.m. there,
I'd still be able to walk - now I've discovered yet another stupor,

A home,
A home is,
A home is nothing,
A home is nothing without something,

suffering,
suffering,
suffering,
suffering,

enjoy it at 5:12 a.m. - found the cigarette,
now gone - 5:16 a.m., a shift, a minute later, still,
three hours too late,

I'm ending this,
I'm ending this,
I'm ending this,
I'm ending this,

5:17 a.m., defeated, finished, a ripoff,
it's alright,
nothing good comes until thirty,
so I'm told,

I continue,
I continue,
I continue,
I continue,

Another Survey, Someone needs to hang out with me. I'm bored

2006-10-12T09:55:47Z

outside it's calm,
the cold is relentless,
my face is numb - my throat dry, my nose still feels empty,
cigarette passes the time,
coffee briefly sipped,
warms me,
the whiskey sings up my spine,
down my throat,
into the bellow of a cowboy,
lost, alone - a range sings my name,
a gorge awaits,
a train leaves, no more bus,
hating the air - feeling free,
conversation dull,
engines are enteraining momentarily,
moment cieses,
a foe longevity is,
man passes with a child,
baring the future - suffering, and breeding more,

in the morning titles are hard to come by, so I hit A in the search menu and the first thing that pops up seems to fit

Allen, Chi, and I

2006-10-11T15:06:11Z

took a flight in the middle of the night,
I chased the setting sun,
and now I'm back,
stuck in Chi,
all these faces,
tired and old,
they are so fucking recognize-able that I'm sick,
the smoke stacks rose,
and their sat an old church,
Ginsberg was right,
my shit made me,
a rising building,
a proud executive,
I'll fuck him violently,
the building he saw graced the sky,
it was me, I'm here, standing alert,
the floors are dirty,
my fragile skin is cut with dust,
this city, another piece of shit.

October 10th, 2006

I shook it three times

2006-08-24T22:46:51Z

In south dakota a man fell in love with a traveling canadian. In Indianapolis another found one more. I can't deny the randomness of our lives that cross and makes so much fucking sense it's impossible to ignore.

I saw a picture of her and her face has rounded out. Her fat ass is still the only redeaming quality, but it now matches the rest. Just by looking I'm sure the you've only been sleeping with men of the highest class. I've got more money then you'll ever have for the rest of your life. How's it feel to be shit on over and over.

I threw my last 8 ball into the river and it didn't do a thing, it made a few life ripples that I noticed the first time I took lsd, but it just sat there staring me down. It floated down the river, I was tempted to jump in after it, but we all know the best thing to do is just walk away from it. I'm glad I did, because it's still on my mind but it's far enough down the river I hope it's found someone else to ruin.

You piece of trash

2006-08-18T08:39:19Z

I wish I didn't know him. I can't figure these lies out. It's a long drive and I'm glad you make it. IT makes it easier for me to not consider you a friend. I'm slowing going insane, or I'm just quickly realizing how insane I've always been. As long as I keep my pants on and don't request anything inside of my I should be fine. Lindsay was pretty interesting for a girl I might sitting on a bench downtown playing her guitar. I want to walk around and drink wine with strangers more often. Strangers and I usually consume mass quanities of hard liquor or drugs. Being close to happy was a lot better than because close to the floor in the bathroom, but oh fuck the temperature of the porcelian ?!#% is nice. booo ga doo

d=a lame lamers

2006-08-12T17:06:51Z

I get it, I lived there too, but none of you were ran out of town; so do me a favor and stop bitching. I don't think I can recall a single one of you living in your car for a month just so you didn't have to go back. Apparently I've gone insane. That's alright because I have more money than all of you combined. Mwa ha ha ha, I'll never get a chance to say that again for as long as I probally live and if I do it'll be because of something insane, i.e.; getting chesnuts shoved up my ass by a monkey while a camera rolls, killing someone and fuck the whole where there head use to sit on their necks, or for winning the World Series of POker. All of this seems unlikey, alright maybe just the poker thing seems unlikely.

ah fuck it, stop bitching, if you're posting about it that's time you could be doing something with your life. If you still live at home and put furniture on a shelf for a living, cool. Just please stop bitching, it could be worse.

Then I rode into the sunset blasting too short. I'm cooler than everyone! Finish your hair cut, "I like my hair." sure....

You're creepy

2006-08-08T10:08:04Z

I heart dudez...

if anyone reads this who talks to nano tell him I said he sucks.

if anyone I know reads this, kill yourself.

scrit, you be cool. Get a zel fone.

I hate you

2006-08-05T10:04:56Z

I have enough on my mind, why constantly compile more worries on top of it all. I'm backed up, but I can't stop. Old friends are best left at that. I use the word friend to often to describe people. I have this misconception of people as kind and caring creatures. The only thing I thought I ever really had in my life has turned about to be one of the worst things for me. I hope you're pussy is staying moist and a hundred dicks ejaculate one more time thanks to you. The world isn't a better place but if you're satisfied that'll have to be enough. I left for a reason, but it's been lost in a haze.
The band 'fish boy' from texas is asleep in my basement. I enjoyed talking to the drummer for hours out back in front of the fire smoking pot and talking about everything from, Zach Hill to Carl Jung. He reassured me that there will always be a thousands kids with art degrees and dumb tattoos, but they're only going to get fatter, (and by the way if you're dumb and you get fatter you're still dumb.) He always inspired to me continue on with what I've been doing because all these pretentious people to talk about the spiritual beliefs of the deu and the last foreign film they so are all full of shit, because I'm the one who's going to the places where these movies were written and I am indeed experience the great spiritual journey just like the great men that have done it before me and like the many who will do it after I'm completely decomposed and forgotten about.
The fear of mediocrity is the only thing that's kept me going, and dying now seems all to simple of an ending. I still have so many more people to piss of, and I'm good at it. It still hurts and it probably won't ever feel any different, but one day hiding it will be easier. The whiskey bottle doesn't lie, and the tears that ensue from another empty bottle of rum will one day come from another part of my "big stupid human brain." (kurt vonnegut-galapagos)

I still hate fat people

2006-07-26T16:45:28Z

This world hasn't seemed fair for sometime, I haven't done anything to deserve this. Most people get excited about finding a 3k diamond worth thirty thousand diamonds. Getting enough cash to go up to the front desk at an admissions building and say, "that'll be cash please." I can't put my finger on it. There aren't enough drugs in the world. NOthings doing what it should, I want some shit that's going to knock me out for days. I want to be able to forget the last three years of my life. I can go anywhere I want now, but that's a fucking lie. The one place I want to go doesn't even exist. IT's gone now, covered in drunken nights of rolling around asking to get fucked while hanging out with a group of familiar faces. This world hasn't made since for sometime now. I want a thirty thousand dollar gun to kill myself with. I openly accept anyone who want to end it for me right now. I want to scream fuck god, but apparently the one thing that doesn't exist is the only thing backing me. How does that work out?

when you have no real friends dress according

2006-07-18T09:52:23Z

It's a zoo in here goddamn it and steve is feeding these fucking animals. The light was taking to long to change the traffic was to heavy for us to go barreling through like a fucking cannon blast. We were almost out of cigarettes, then we're going to be done for. I can handle angry black men, but not when they've been feed methadone's for weeks then turned loose into the city at 3 a.m. and I had a head full of mushrooms and wasn't about to say no to them.
The man asked me, "buddy, you got a square?," to which I replied, "no, FUCK you! I've been on drugs for days and this is my last one." I thought we had made it and were going to have an easy ride to the park down the street. Then Steve interjected, "I've got one man." He might just as well cover is dick in honey and stick it into a bear's face. They were seeping out of every crevice and weren't stopping.
"Lets end this madness!", I shouted. I pressed the accelerator as far down as I could manage, because I was peeking an had to think for a second. Should this be so natural? These men could tear me apart and I haven't sweated this a bit.
Over the course of the last few days, going to gay bars with forty year old rich men and hitting central american people with metal rods have become habit. I'm scared, safe, and anticipating tomorrow.

It's back and going nowhere

2006-07-07T07:50:12Z

Summing up a three year ordeal with recylced opinions is garbage. I was fine knowing herion fiends with dreadlocks were getting blow jobs, but letting the mountain goats do your dirty work is crossing the line. I've spent the last seventy-two hours in the dark. I've come into the light once in the last week. I don't feel like a vampire but I know I should. The earth is going to open up and suck all of you down into the vast emptiness of nothing. You can't concieve it and I hope your god lets all of you down.

Dear Lord help me or you'll have me on your hands soon.

Here's the deal.
If you've been smoking for less than five years and you put a picture of yourself on the internet showing off your new found idiocy it isn't excusable even if you're showing off a wicked tat. Even if you did find it in some trendy art magazine, you have to do more than have your parents pay for you to stay in an art dorm to be artsy.

I really hate everyone. Stop being prententious, or at least trying. A lack of degree, doesn't mean anything. Good books are good books and soccer is still soccer because we live in America. Get over it or get out, it sucks but I'm stuck here like all the rest of you. Soccer isn't football by the way, it's futbol, and I believe it is with a hyphen thingy above the 't'. FIFA SOCCER 06' motha fuckas'.