Sunday Morning Thoughts 3.17.13: A Breath, A Blink, Then A Jump

As time is relative and quite certainly bendable, allow me to limber up my existence. I have been slipping into a state of stagnation that I have no business mucking around in. I’ve had enough and will not tolerate this for a single instant further. I march towards either enlightenment or oblivion with gusto rivaling those warriors of ancient worlds, immortalized in brilliantly durable tales.

You see, I’ve come to realize that I don’t want to deal with nonsensical behavior. This is quite peculiar as I have brought myself to the places where such things occur, in attempts to reach some other landing. I choose to partake in one craft, yet have to fight to feed on the smallest fruits of such a world. I have, essentially, decided that this cannot be anymore.

Now I’m not fool enough to believe that simply not wanting something makes it go away when so many, nearly all, of those around me are convinced that this is how it be, indefinitely. Many of my fellow humans at the very least believe that they survive on some of these behaviors I’ve come out against, so I am left vastly outnumbered. Of course, all this opposition is nonexistent! But you go ahead and try to tell of them that.

I am fool enough to believe that something can be done about it. It is a feeling of obligation, or perhaps vanity. It is certainly selfish. My own preference of circumstance is the driving force behind my intention, though those ideas themselves are borrowed, just as they were borrowed from those before I. These idols of my mentality found the words left for them from human history as it bounced in the wind towards legend. I expect to do the same and hopefully earn the right for my dust to someday make stars.

Yet, this is not now. I have spent more time idling about this idea of now, after spending much too long in the past. It could be argued that being focused on the present leaves you just as far behind the curve as looking behind you. Or I would argue that, at least. The future requires attention and I have placed my hands in the first grooves of that vast stone wall of coming events. This universe roars so loud in my face that I have hid behind atmosphere and synthetic formations, feigning belief that this would keep me safe. I’ve known it hasn’t and wouldn’t and never will.

I’ve been writing poetry again. In fact, I’ve written more poetry this month then I have in all of high school. Certainly stuff of much better quality. Such inspiration should not, and is not taken lightly.

It pains me to know, as knowing often does, that this life of lying about and dreaming is not guaranteed. It is threatened as much as all things are. Though my desire is to stay in this paradise and though I have no intention of abandoning it, I must rise to defend it.

How, is no longer a question. It is quite possible it might never have been one. In fact, I know it never was. It could be supposed that one must look outside believed beliefs to find their own truth but who has time for all that? I did but don’t anymore and despite the grand pursuit of it all, phases fade and pass and I have arrived at such a place.

I should not fret though, only step with patience and grace. I have been practiced in the comfort of my bubble of education and can only grow to pop it from here. As it should be done. I have developed all these talents into skills and tools and weapons of defense for this identity I have sculpted from a pile of cells. Those same cells were once a young boy and will someday be an old man, if I managed to make it that far. But for now, they constitute this young man about to enter what will be the most defining years of his existence. These will be the years my message will get its chance, if it ever will. This now and this coming future will hold my greatest works and my grandest journeys. If I find my immortality, the elixir will be drank in this decade.

I have no use for utopia, only a desire for less dire stances. I have no use for any gods or the promises they make. I have no use for politics or those who politicking. I have no use for false idols, idle speakers or speaking fallacies. I have no use for systematic obedience and ignorance.

Some may hate me and so be it. I’ve heard it all before. I care not for the opinions of masses as they stand.

What shall be done, is production, crafting and creation. The depths of quandary shall be dived into with regard of dangers but certainly no fear. I know, nearly for certain, that all this will be tested. Not slightly, but absolutely placed before destructive fate that will burn the hairs that stand on end. We all will. I hope we can step up and deliver. I hope that I can.


Sunday Morning Thoughts 3.10.13: Job Posting Confessionals

So it’s Wednesday, big deal. So the last one of these was a month ago? Wanna fight about it? I’ve been busy… sort of. It’s a story whose details are not terribly exciting or anything like that. Besides, the more relevant point would be where I am standing now.

Which is… huh… ummm… good.

Yeah, crazy as that sounds I’m doing pretty damn good. Some parts of my life are great, or grand, or spectacular. Others are not so much but that matters not, as the overall standing and feeling as I click away now is pretty damn good. Which for those of you not savvy with the hip lingo, is better than just doing good, or ok, or swell or anything like that.

How did I get here? Well that is none of your damn business friend. No offense intended but… no actually, offense intended. Sorry for the slip up there.

But seriously though, I’m not going to tell you how but I will tell you why. It diverges from the point, you see. I’m not going to waste this here moment in the present for something idling off into the past. This moment is for the future which I am now dangerously hurdling myself into.

I don’t know how to stop it, or slow it down, or reverse it but judging from how things have come to be, I say fuck it. Let’s ride this thib out and see where it goes.

So we have things to attend to which we will discuss now.

First, the spring is upon us and any true sentient being should understand how damn important that is. The dreary winter is ending and we are going to be infested with life all around us where there was once so much dead. Beautiful dead, those few times when we managed to get some snow on the ground. But that death has brought life and the cycle continue, which to me, has to be a sign that things are still doing ok.

Winter ended up being a reminder that things are not well, holding high temperatures and a few renegade snow storms. A rather dreary spirit all around.

Second, though this is in no particular order of importance, would have to be the pressing matter of you, the universe, getting me employed. I would preferably like to have a job that pays enough so I can live and occasionally have a beer or six, like a responsible adult is able to do. Now I know it seems like I should be the one making the effort but I figure that I have so much work to do beyond these first few steps of life, that I could just skate by. You know?

Not happening? Well, it was worth a try. Alright, you damn universe, I’ll play your game but prepare for endless pranks and shenanigans once I reach my power. My trickery shall know no equal.

Not buying that either? Fine, I’ll do all that ‘get a job’ stuff that the rest of the humans my age are doing.

Pardon my lack of enthusiasm but I just don’t really like those odds. Can you blame me though? Things are bad, even here in the empire, and no one is talking about anything getting better. Here and there, little victories pop up only to splash drops of light on the huge and vast landscape of corruption, waste, hate and violence in this world. You can’t ignore it and yet everyone does.

And what am I supposed to do? Work my way up the ladder and watch as everything starts to fall around me? Reach the top to hold nothing but ashes in my hands?

Well there I go, potentially exaggerating again. I should have just immediately professed, simply, that I am afraid. Petrified really. I have to take part in a lot of the things that I’ve only been speaking of with oh, so much zeal from the safety of books and classrooms, with a few glimpses of the dysfunction in the adult human world. So I just have to adjust, as I’ve known I would. It just is, dig?

Third, and of equal importance to all the rest, would be this matter of one maintaining a soul is such a treacherous land. I live in a place that has gotten so fat on its own self righteousness, they have forgotten what made them anything even close to right in the first place.

This nation o’mine was created on the idea that the guys who made it might be wrong, and probably were, and probably hoped to be. Yet they knew enough, that if they created a place where a man could exist in comfort, without excess, and worked at something that could feed and sustain his fellow man, in all areas of healthy human life, that whole peace thing would get figured out. They considered a bit of philosophy and existentialism to be vital for the continuance of man.

Of course at the time, this would have only applied to white males who already owned stuff but this flaw was known. Sacrifices, breaks eggs, fight omelets with fire. You know, that sort of thing. Shitty reasoning but hey, times were shitty. But they trusted that the future would continue to bring enlightenment to the lives of all, or something like that.

We messed up at some point after that. I can’t tell for sure when. History says one thing but I’ve only been around for a few trips around the sun and really only remember the events of the last ten years or so. And even then, and really, even now, I have the lens of the point of view I currently hold. I just like to think that has developed a little bit.

Fourthly, and possibly most important but that’s up to you (my money is on most important), would be remembering a little something when dealing with your fellow man. All of them. And I mean humans, not gender specific.

Whether you want to believe that we are all the same or that you are more special doesn’t matter. We are stuck with each other on this rock. Whatever imaginary borders or beliefs we make up doesn’t change our circumstance. Until we figure out somewhere else to go and how to get there, on Earth we shall stay. Unless of course, you know, doom, destruction and all that.

How? This time you shall get it, or at least as much as I have to offer.

We as a species are unbelievably irresponsible with our technology. We are also irresponsible with our values and our treatment of others. We have, as a total species, harvested enough energy to literally, not figuratively, destroy a planet. This planet. We have that kind of power and yet my parents are still going on to each other about the electric bill? I don’t know who came up with this use for massive amounts of energy, but if you do, kick him in the crotch.

We are addicted to entertainment and of a truly awful quality. I thought I broke my phone and went a few days without one and I tell you, I remembered what freedom felt like. No one could get me. But the isolation that occurs today without one is noticeable.

To fix it would be simple, and is simple. Unfortunately, we’ve gotten very bad at simple things. You just have to stop and look around. Forget everything you think you know and look around. What you see is your reality and you are responsible for it. Play nice with others and don’t be greedy. That’s all it takes.

And if by any chance you are an employer who is potentially looking to hire the human being you suspect is behind this rather drawn out rant, I would like to share something with you. If any of these words resonated to you and share at least the very vague belief that all of us and no one else have to fix our own world, then you sound like the kind of person I want to work for. And please, trust me when I say that when I want to work on something, it gets done.

I will not confirm or deny my identity, though it may already be known.

Sunday Morning Thoughts 1.6.13: Species Survival for Apocalyptic Circumstance

Hark and hear the call, ladies and gents, because we are reaching those breaking points with each unrequested march forward. Now dig, I’m a big fan of endless reflection of the past but we can no longer afford such things. I’d like to say if I could go back, I would and if I could pick where I’d like to go to, I’d know where. Imagination plagues me with the wonder of what might have been in so many instances and yet I know that just couldn’t be.

For you see, mistakes are only a matter of perspective and if you allow them to be seen as such, they most certainly will. I could whine on and on and on and on and on and on and on, forever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever until time ends or something of the sort but if I recall correctly, which all my time thinking about the past suggests that I might, every time I’ve missed something it was because I was too busy staring, or crying, or groaning and moaning about some other bellyache that no longer means that much to me.

I’ve had this habit, or addiction, or illness, or whatever term you’d like to describe my talking out loud and imagining what conversations with certain people may go like, in fictionalized circumstances and I can tell you that my words always fall short. Now if my own fantasy seems to be at odds with myself, what am I left with? My dreams have been strange and dark and uncomfortable for a long time and I guess if Freud were here, he would wipe the white powder from his nose and say that is how they are intended to be.

Sigmund can suck an egg. I don’t trust people who do blow regularly anyway. They are always just looking for their next fix. You can hardly even trust stoners these days and they used to be such a reliable breed.


Yet that persistent ticking continues on as I listen to the compositions of yet another dead man. He lives on, as I while away the hours with an unfinished novel and a half empty soul. It may be temporary and I know that the state of the novel certainly is. The soul I’m not as sure about, as one of the big portions missing is that bit about being in love. That whole thing that was supposed to happen for people when they were young, for me has only been spread out in many short, but quite fantastic glimpses and greedy ol’ Brian just wanted more.

But with that persistent ticking of the clock that dwells in my mind, I suggest we look a bit at the present before we dive into ideas about the future. The past is dead. So it goes.

We’ll start with the news. Congress doesn’t care about the people who elected them but is relentless in their support of those who pay the larger portion of their salary. You know, all of those giant companies that keep us convinced of our industrial age shackles.

Small town rapists are fighting against cyber vigilantes, while some radio host in Ohio claims that gay rights are leading to the untimely death of children. It’s ok though, because you can buy your little guy his very own toy Predator UAV just like the ones that kill innocent people over in Pakistan, including children!

And that’s just domestically. Across the rock, you can see that women are either being raped, beaten or beheaded in India, Afghanistan and Pakistan, to name a few.

The Syrian President had a speech where he said he is seeking an end to the civil war over there through… that’s right, more war. Radioactive waste was dumped into rivers over in Japan when all those reactors had those problems a little while back and there are massive protests against the government in Iraq.

Although this be grim stuff, you have to understand that it’s all your fault. Fret not, it’s mine too. It’s all of ours because you see, we as humans, as siblings of the same species, have failed to work together when and where it matters most. We fight and argue over things that really don’t matter while we waste our tremendous abilities on making stupid phones that help governments spy on people and cars that still pour filth into the air, cooking us all slowly.

We have the means to harvest enough energy to blow this rock up so many fucking times over and yet have a global energy crisis. Can someone please fucking explain that to me because my feeble mind just can’t seem to understand how that works?


Well, if you’ve made it this far, congratulations. You are now marching forward into the great unknown of the future. So come and take my hand and we shall skip into the dark unknown eternity until we can no longer muster the strength to skip. At which point, we will walk.

The future is an illusion of sorts, as we are constantly looking for it and yet only find the present. I know when I expect things to happen, they usually don’t. Unless they are things that I don’t want to happen, then they usually do. You should ask me to bet on horses and pick everything that I don’t, you’ll be rich. But that is not the point, nor a concern of mine. I have come to some sort of terms with the chaos that engulfs events and will no longer let it plague me.

The goal from here is fairly consistent with the ones of the past. In fact, it really hasn’t changed at all. Only the conditions have changed and even those tweaks have been only slightly monstrous.

The goal, and you should feel free to join in with this, is to make tomorrow ever better than today. But not for myself, or yourself, if you are taking the oath. You, and when I say you I mean I, have to spend every effort we can muster making the world a better place for everyone. If you feel the need to include yourself in that, go ahead. The only condition is that you not limit to yourself.

Now would be good for me to clear a few things up about this. I’m not expecting utopia, especially not in my lifetime. You could call it one of those things I’m doing for myself. I don’t want to live in a perfect world. Heaven is boring. I’m not a hippie, nor a complete beatnik. Unfortunately, Kerouac was bumming around in much better economic conditions than today, it being the start of America’s great leap into false prosperity. I’m an idealist but have been disappointed enough to know what is possible from where we stand.

I should also stress that I’m not really talking about political reform, as that can only be a product of ourselves in this nation. All of us are responsible but the older you are, the greater the guilt. I know my generation hasn’t been around long enough to make too many profound decisions, though I must say we are fucking up on the ones that we do. Reality TV? Really people? Get a fucking grip.

I and you and he and she and we and they need to start changing the way we think. We need to stop thinking that we need to step on others to succeed and that some people are better than others. We all crawled from the same swamp not that long ago. We need to start looking around at our world and wondering what’s going on. We should care about each actions we make, and the words that we use. We should stop being so sensitive to nonsense and quit being so numb to the things that matter. We need to grown the fuck up.


But hey, I’m young and according to the counseling center, very privileged. What could I know right?

Sunday Morning Thoughts 12.23.12

So there is all of this bad in the world, right? And I have this blog. And I’m rather cynical. So it would be safe to assume that I would talk about all the bad that there is and just dwell on that for ages and ages until new problems emerge as a result of fixing myself upon the tragedies of the past, right? I’m only human, right?

Although it may be true that the flesh and blood that make up this boyish man is branded with an organic expiration date, I am holding rather firmly on to the belief that I may be able to find the means for the idea of this man that I call myself to go beyond that.






Not terribly.


Statistically, at least.


So why bother chasing that idea about to no foreseeable end? It’s because I have pulled out of the mire, only to dive back in several times and each time only finding the same mud as before. The only difference is the warmth caused from my body heat. Too vivid? Excellent.

Well I’ll refrain from the unsightly matters of the mind for a bit and try and find some virtue floating about. Hmmm… well… to start… oh! We survived the most recent apocalypse scare!

Ok, so maybe it was a total hoax to anyone with half of a somewhat rational mind. And so what they found another Mayan calendar that went past the solstice for 2012? And so what our actual demise seems to be dangerously close with global starvation and war and disease and November being the warmest month for 333 consecutive months? There’s a dusting of snow on the ground where I am here on Earth, so maybe not all is lost.

That doesn’t mean we should sit back and expect it to go away. That is stupid, and irresponsible, and lazy, and overall a pretty shitty thing to do not only to others, but really to yourself.

And that very well could be the issue right there. I’m having such a rough time coming up with the positive because I just seem to lack it in my own reality. Although, that may not be entirely true.

I stand with the entirety of my big toe in the pool of my adult life, which is the one I will now be stuck with until I kick the bucket and fall back into the mud, to be pulled apart over decades on the molecular level. I know it’s fascinating stuff, but we have no time for biology here. Or knowledge really. 10th grade was a long ways away.

The point I’m trying to make is not really coming across as anything though, is it? I suppose it can’t be helped. I’ve spent most of the day playing with my facial hair and making things up in my head. I guess I’m only aging in body. Then again, I do feel older. Or is it just more stressed? Is this stress? Is this life? Is this love? WHAT AM I?

That would seem to be the ever present question in my mind and for a few others throughout the history of human consciousness. Yet, with all these strides all that seems to be is finding out what isn’t and nothing about what is. My buddy Tommy Kuhn seemed to be pretty on the spot when he figured that we really aren’t doing much to get ourselves anywhere specific, or anywhere at all. We just need to keep thinking that we are getting somewhere, I guess.


Or not. Maybe we are moving towards something that is grand, and bright, and warm, and is just like nirvana, only with better toilets. Maybe all these issues that plague me and us and the whole lot of humanity are just hiccups that seem so inescapable and unconquerable, will just fade away. Maybe they will be replaced by other issues, but those will just fall away in the same fashion until things just even out and we coast along on our rock in perfect health and no type of conflict, internal or external. And there we will stay until the sun explodes and we are destroyed with all the beautiful fury that created us.

Unless we can travel away and live somewhere else. That would be nice, if we did enough research. Find somewhere that’s got a fresher type of air to breath. Or a place where ham grows on trees. That’d be nice.

But I can’t get there without going through this, can I? I didn’t think so. You’ll have to forgive me. I mean, you don’t have to but I’d like you to. I had been told a whole sort of things that I don’t believe anymore. A lot of things that I was never supposed to doubt are gone now.

But the point. Yes, I guess that I should really at least make an attempt to get to that by now, but I still seem to falling short. Could it be helped? I imagine it could and it will and I’ll figure it out, don’t worry. I’ve made it this far and not to make anyone feel bad, I don’t even try as a hard as I could. I know, some people work their entire lives and never accomplish some of the feats I have found in my past of a 5th of one century. And yet here I am, sitting in at my boyhood desk with my shaggy hair and anarchist beard with nothing in my mind but the same old and a few other tweaks of ideas. And as I sit with nothing to do, my mind will wander to all the places that it’s been and run through a whole assortment of emotions. I’ll feel bad and sad a weak and powerless and glad and inspired and nervous and petrified, and all this without leaving my house.


Alright, let’s face it. There is no point to this right here. Not life, just this post. I just wanted to string a few hundred words together to make some sort of very off beat poetic rant. I wanted to stay on time with these, but I haven’t. Oh well.

Waiting for Doomsday

Hark and hear the raindrops sigh,

Fell just short of lullaby.

And in them I can heard the sound,

Of bouts of time bounding by

And faint whispers of savage cries,

So hell it burns with the fury of that.

A bell in the wind dripping wet with remorse,

Yet so sweet the song that still come forth,

And though it can’t be seen from now,

It rings proud with brutal force,

Caught in rhythmic deficiencies, caused of course,

By shady changes in the weather up north.

But for I to say anything at all,

Would be bold, to say the least

And a certain bad judgment call,

So gather around for the feast.

Your eyes and hold nothing back,

Aside from parts of the heart, painted black.

Sunday Morning Thoughts 12.16.12

It’s raining in December. I wish it was snowing but it is not. It may be the end of the world, or it might not. Either way, the issue lies in the hole in the bottom of my shoe. I’ve had them since high school but I’ve always had an issue with letting things go. Well, only certain things I suppose. I can let the rest go without a thought. Some sort of distorted value system.

I sit here and soberly stare away at my dying world and only such a small amount of my own fault is at play. That of course, is a lie. I am no saint but am all powerful and therefore all things that go awry are my responsibility. I’ve gotten so good at it that I can hardly notice when I even cause such catastrophes. You think there’d been more guilt but there isn’t. I’ve fallen asleep again and woke up alone, just as intended.

It’s hard to say because I haven’t had but one cigarette today and my addiction is convincing me that I need such things for thought. It will fade and soon. At least, I hope it will be soon.

Frost Bit

Hope and wishing, there I go again. I claim all these bold words against such weak propositions and yet here I am, whining about them. And in my own typical fashion, suggest the faults belong to the very same world that I say I have control over. I need to pick a side, or an argument, or story. I need to begin the grand exploitation of my own self, and mind, and abilities to wield the means to discovery of a greater truth. I need to take a look at myself for one last time and walk out the door towards the future that is only as bright as I want to make it.

Not that my intention simply changes it. I need to work at it. I need to plan, and scheme, and act, and perform, and convince all of you that this as it is, can not be as it were any longer.


I know it may seem tough to you, but that is only how it seems. The world is busy trying to convey this message to you that you have no choice but to adhere to. You are weak and powerless against the tide of things. You as a person, do not have the means to make change, let alone anything to be considered great. You are unable to be what you want, or think what you want, or feel what you want. You are owned by something that your mind couldn’t even begin to comprehend without removing years of observation that has been cleverly disguised as wisdom.

You’ll have to forgive me. I haven’t even been able to watch the regular shit they shuck out on the news because of this whole Connecticut business, which only precedes the whole Oregon mall business by a few days. So that is all I’ve seen for the last few days and pardon me for being numb, but I am. This only a tragedy because it happened in Connecticut and that is not me being insensitive. Anyone who follows the news sees people die in larger numbers every day. 40,000 dead in Syria and few tears have been shed in the land of the free. Don’t worry, there were plenty of kids involved in that. Over 500 they reckon are dead and about 400 have been tortured for information. Statistically, it doesn’t add up.

But let me not let my cynicism take over because I’d like to hold on to whatever foolish bits of optimism I am capable of, if such a thing could even be real. I could talk about the wonderful privilege he that I have being able to grow up at the fattest levels of decadence of the largest empire the world has ever known. We could talk about how so very few things in my life are truly dire or tragic and yet I treat every little hiccup as the end of days, or at least seemingly letting it be so. We could talk about my full stomach, and good physical health, and great access to education.  We could, but we’re not.

We’re not going to because these types of discussion solve nothing, as most discussion does. Not anything against the conversed word, but I know that these words are not said to get anywhere, but rather to argue and perpetuate the ideas at hand. And the whole problem of this issues stems from me not being able to come up with anything meaningful to say yet. I have dragged on for a few hundred words and a several dozen phrases to find myself no wiser than when I was younger and had a car and all of my worries were those I chose to have upon myself. Back when everything I had was fought for by someone else and I was to be grateful. Back when a young boy hand never kissed a girl and didn’t know what to want or what to do. The kiss only first happened about six years ago, so you could imagine that I have only come so far.

Another Dawn

But I have and here I am, sitting atop my tiny little empire with no more words to say at the end as I did in the beginning and that has mostly to do with boredom and attention span. That and vanity. These days of posting the greatest craft that I am capable of into blog posts will be ceasing soon. Or at least changing mode. I may or may not be sorry, but the worth of my words will only go up if I begin to take them more seriously. I was told that I was good at this sort of thing many times. I was told a few years before now as well as with the passing moments.

Somehow, we have wound up here and yet I feel as I have said nothing and am even further from solving anything. This isn’t true though, because I won’t let it. And that, my friends is the wonder of it all. It can only mean what you want it too and that is the truth. Care not for what the rest compare or contrast your actions to because you can make anything mean whatever you want, Now, I trust that you understand how terrifying of a prospect that could be. Truth could be found by in feeding the hungry, just as much as it is found in a class room full of dead 1st graders.  It should be understood that truth does not always mean justice. Nor does justice always mean benevolence. And benevolence could mean pumpkin pie somewhere else in the universe.

We don’t know. I don’t know and I know for a fact that you don’t know. I couldn’t verify or justify any of this, because I don’t imagine that I will be coming back to it anytime soon. I may never read this again, or at least not until I am old enough to be able to not care. That is, if I make it that far. The world is supposed to end in the next few days, so who knows.

If there are typos and misspelling, I kindly suggest that you deal with it. This is better off being posted with timely ideas than having the best grammar. Cheers.

Power Kingdom Bound

Sunday Morning Thoughts 11.18.12 – 12.9.12: The Forgotten Month on the Eve of Apocalypse

And it has come at last. I will be making my escape. It will be grand, I’m sure. All these years of talking to mirrors has produced a well rehearsed show.

Here’s a disclaimer. Don’t define escape as you normally would, because this is based upon my own view. Don’t bother trying to see it either. From up here I can tell the bridge is down. There is only one way out and it seems to be not from where we came. From where I’ve come, really.

The culmination of mind drowning bullshit has finally reached the point at which I will no longer stand aside and let it rampage any further. I am on a war path, so to speak. These institutions and bureaucracies have played their hands full. They are stretched and won’t stand up to much, least of all what I have in store. It won’t be violent, unless they listen to what they tell you. If you listen to what there is, you’ll have the proper sympathy. There is only what is. Enough of what should be.

The mass delusion is one of apathy. Fattened on the profitability of some small selections of science that had become viciously marketed, we have become convinced that answers just fall into the lap of those who need it. These answers come from the community that for some strange reason, you know no one who belongs to it. Yet you believe it is, despite the contradiction to the process at practice itself. This is based off of the Snuggie and advances in video stimulation equipment.

Unfortunately and very seriously, we are already over due. I’m over due. I should have been going at this the entire time but like all the rest, I was sitting around watching some screen as I traded between picking my nose and picking my ass. I had caved in the moments expected for triumph and been too bold when I should have said nothing.

We use and use and use, without giving any bit of the slightest damn about how much there is. Or how we can get enough of it back to keep using it. Or what the fuck it could possibly be doing to effect life now. We are just too occupied with some very disgustingly trivial matters to try and investigate. This is all because of social networking and television programming that almost exclusively caters to making appearances for the shittiest rich ass wipes imaginable. It lets a few others in, but making it in this field with dignity is some damn fight. I hope I’m up for it.

If there is anything that could express the development of the cynicism that lives inside of me, it would be this. Go through all of these posts and you’ll find my reactions to events of the past in varying proximities of time from which they occurred. I wrote after heartbreak and tragedy, and even more often just the illusion of those two. I wrote about hallucinated love and ambitions to rise from the muck of civilization. This is only the development, not the completion.

The trick is to be able to stop the bleeding after just the right amount of poison is gone, to keep just a little bit of it inside. Or perhaps I’m mad. Either way, I will aim to never become a complete cynic, nor will I be able to remain the youthful fool from before. My innocence is gone, if innocence is held at the same conditional standards of silence. To know what innocence is, means you do not have it. I may still seem to be nice, but trust me when I say I am not as nice as I used to be. Sainthood is not the aim.

I’ve broken many promises but not all of them are regrets, though they were when they first shattered. Some where necessary, or resistant to dodge but they all happened just the same. They have always happened and maybe they always will. Here’s to hoping the next vase I break is filled with cash. Hoping for cash never ends up fruitless, right? Hope for the hopeless. Turkeys for the turkeyless.

Rail yard

     So that whole thing was written about a week ago, which is about three weeks too late itself. I started to read it to get an idea of where to go next but I didn’t. Fuck it. I just need the now and whatever comes with it. Anticipation and hope have slowed this dope to terrible whiny speeds. Not entirely of course. Still, it’s enough to make the madness feel conflicting where it should be inspiring. Inspiration, how I call for thee. Inspiration, won’t you stay with me? Inspiration, do you even like me?

The understanding is void, so they’ll be no discussion about it. We float around and fill ourselves with chemicals and play with the ideas in our heads to keep from falling asleep. We’ll attach ourselves to our delusion and call it happiness and wallow away the hours until the world cooks itself and doom and gloom prevail. That is, unless I start doing something about it.

It’s not arrogance, it’s really more of guilt. I am among the most wasteful individuals which creates a nice ideological self loathing complex. The amount of things that I have been able to toss away in life is shameful. Many things go beyond simple monetary values too. Real deal stuff. The kind that breaks the bond between man and the all knowing, ever loving cash. Well maybe not break, but tamper with at the very least.

Despite this, I call for man as a whole to change the ways of living deemed fit and change to something that isn’t awful. I say this as I type into my stupid phone about nothing and feel bad about things that shouldn’t get any kind of feeling at all. That, and I may enjoy a beverage or a dozen and make a fool of myself and make mistakes, a lot.

Excellent. I’m going to wash myself now. As in a shower, nothing metaphorical. I imagine I’ll feel better about things once I do. I’m looking forward to it but I should know better than that by now. I hold for the hope of a life filled with hot water. The danger of losing it may be much more immense that you think. Unless of course, you’ve been paying attention.


     So let us now conclude this little fiasco and make it forever immortalized in digital form. I’ll get around to physical copies eventually. Again, I have not re read what was written before and trust me when I say that I’ve forgotten it. The moods between then and now are quite different and I imagine that there’s some sort of reflection in this particular work. Ha! I referred to this as a piece of work. Such a maroon.

The goal, or mission, or objective, is not really any of those things. It is vague, and so perfectly vague that it floats about in the mist of existence, with only the slightest forces pulling it forth and yonder. The best part is that none of that may be true and the force could be grand and beautiful. Or it might not.

You feel this and I feel that. That, of course, changes to this and then you’re left with the other thing and all hell breaks loose. Which is silly, because feelings are silly. I suppose.

They’re not terrible, I’m not cynical enough to say that but I wouldn’t advise you to take such things too seriously. They are very fleeting. Emotions are another story. I think the guide said to dodge them all together. Something about being horribly fantastic, or something of that sort.

Well, I suppose it’s time to wrap this up and make up for all the nothing I’ve been up to, while I should have been doing this type of nothing. Ya dig? I have work to do, and I suppose that I’m pretty serious about it. I’ve been talking and talking and vaguely planning. I have made some means, probably more than I give myself credit for. I have a few avenues to pursue, ferociously of course.

See, that’s the problem with super heroes. People love to believe in them and have that ideal to hold on to when travel throughout the muck and mire that is the world of human experience. Light to the darkness, that sort of thing.

Jesus is essentially a superhero. He’s a supernatural benevolent leader who defies that corruption of the establishment, ultimately at the cost of his life which he gets back anyway because fuck clergy and the empire. A little bit, and really only a little bit, of tweaking and you’ve got a kick ass middle eastern superhero who stands against ordinary foes whilst simultaneously representing an idea for a true and kind justice that inspires the people in the world of the book and in the world of the reader.

I remember, the other evening, or morning rather round five, I was blundering down a street, puffing away at a smoke. I was yelling out loud about my disappointment in reality or something like that. I did this to my room and in my room upon my arrival. The idea that I’ve recalled clearly for some reason is this:

So I was drunk, in the dark of my single room, in my underwear, reflecting aggressive upon existence. This happens more than you’d think. I decided that I use the word wish too much, and I hate it. The word, I mean. I said, to myself, that to wish is to remove any kind of responsibility for the events that unfold. Wishing makes you a victim.

It’s even a shitty word aesthetically. Wish. It’s weak. It is constantly fleeting and running away.

Wish. Wish is the sound something makes when it is travel past you as fast as it can. Wish is the sound of being ignored for some other goal. Fuck wish and wishes and wishing.

Wishing Away

Fuck. Now there’s a word with some gusto.