this is no joke, kids. when i said, "fuck twilight!", i didn't mean it like this.
october 30th, 2009, axe to fall, hungover, bus, bullshit, wanna sleep,
you do this to yourself, he whispered as we listened to the faint whistle of the morning wind and watched the fluorescent sun shake it self stubbornly into the sky.
I dreaded the taste of a cigarette as i pulled it from the box and put it to my mug,
a small cold walk through cough city, snot and smoke slip down my throat,
earphones blaring ballads of heavy heavy heavy,
it's like being drunk on a skateboard, i try to keep balance, holding my balance beam,
surrounded by aging, fattened up ethnic women, crowding elbow to elbow and exchanging yawns and accidental eye contact, i stare off at traffic to avoid such contact,
the great stop and i'm off, trudging through mildew dipped shards of grass,
that cup of something black and hot to twist my belly into confusion, a toilet of liquids,
the confirming beep of the punch card, makes me think of hospitals, of dying, of sleeping,
sitting in that isolated island of white walls and computer screens,
never realize how still drunk your body is until you first sit down and look at the stack of papers in need of your touch
Whats left of scraps of wine stained journal paper
I carry my journal around with me everywhere. I never really write in it, but I feel its better to have it around and not use then need it and not have it. Kinda like a gun. Anyway, on the bus this morning I skimmed through it and found a couple little things I liked. Thought I'd share em. These had to have been written in the last year.
no body ever got nailed to no fucking cross for me/i never got nowhere being nice
they will hang flags upside down and put candles in their windows when they're done with me,
they will spit on dollar bills in memory of my name,
there will be no more church bells a ringing,
i ate the hand that feeds me. -Book of Dan 1:27
the thousand yard stare/living bottle to bottle just to make a living
no gods, no masters, no unwritten laws, there are no rules.
maybe I'm just not the type of man who has an equilibrium.
this ship has fucken sunk, i wake up and piss out the night before,
our future, past and present is a beaten book,
who will fold our pages and wear out our spine?
is anyone man enough to get lost in a couple of my chapters?
i scare myself so much i wet my bed, toxic thoughts tossed up in my twisted tongueless head,
up to my neck in my own smoke made spit,
gamblin on a brothers dime you never know what you get,
but i'll choke on my own pride until i'm spent,
take a shape and twist it, now i'm bent,
i never expected to break clean, it was never part of my careful planning,
fuck a fine tooth comb, i've got two fists and a mouthful of regrets
media made icon, hidden agenda
go ahead and cast your blame, did you really think it could be that easy?
we dont live in black and white,
he's a patsy born with royalty blood, he was conditioned with training wheels to be a sucker,
you think what they want you to and they got you thinking you got rights,
go ahead and cast your blame, he's a patsy, a martyr,
factory built to keep a nation of comatose consumers in the game,
so point your finger and sleep easily at night,
do you really think it could be that easy?
we dont live in black and white,
this is what fairy tales are made of:
the corrupt king brings terror and famine on the people,
and the black night ignites with the power of the people to restore faith and order,
he comes in preaching freedom and change, we can do it!
and with medieval magician tricks he parts the red sea, yes we can!
our messiah has arrived,
did you really think it was that easy? patsy!
the peace sign
capitalizing on symbolism that once had significance, thats meaning is now diluted with piss to sell porcelain cups and embroidered jeans.
untitled scribble
idol minds are the downfall of humanity, the de-evolution of man,
and they will name cities after our generation,
in war torn villages on foreign soil,
copper statues will stand strong in their courtyards,
of our religious icons; 21 century celebrities,
whom we worshipped for their public humiliation and gluttony,
oh our wear envy, oh our weary envy
well the sun will someday run out of gas,
who knows maybe the Mormons get the last laugh,
im left out cause a priest never gave me a bath,
so ill be exiled to feel the devils wrath,
one time
sometimes i hate time, when i got too much or dont have enough,
good times, bad times, old times, break time, new times, lunch time,
i like to hear myself talk so much i find myself talking to myself,
and ill talk in all kinds of circles till i realize i never got no where else other than where i started
untitled scribble
Our protectors crashed when their bellies exploded with excess
now we regurgitate on their shit just so we can breathe,
i choke, i choke, i choke,
they ate too much and now our sisters are sick, without insurance and have lost all their jobs, i choke,
l.a. county blues
your security will be tested when strung to strangers in the nude,
and that hose bath dont wash away your dirt,
i got the la county blues
untitled scribble
cant trust my brain cause it always goes and tricks me, hurts me bad,
convinces me the thought of something is better than the reality,
tries to make me forget the truth, aint no la la land, i really do hate everything
Little Darcy and the Weekend
Couple days ago, got stoned and took an hour long shower in which i drank a pint of whiskey. One of my favorite things to do, drink in the shower. One of those long stony showers where you realize you've been staring at a tile for twenty minutes and you havent even picked up the soap yet. Anyway, I somehow started to create a childrens tale in my head. It was influenced off seeing something similar to a face in the tile of my shower. It reminded me of a character my friend used to draw named Darcy. I conceived this story, although incomplete, with the strange stoned/drunk shower thought process on my side, although, I'm sure listening to Tom Waits Rain Dogs on repeat helped a bit as well. Afterwords i thought very little of it. But it kept coming back to me, it's very different than anything I've ever considered even writing, but for some strange reason, I wrote it down...so as funny as it sounds, here's my kids book.
It was a beautiful Saturday morning and Little Darcy strolled down her favorite street in her favorite neighborhood to see what the sunny day had to offer.
Her first stop was at Old Lady Peggy's place. It was a little house, very worn and old, but despite it's grey colors it's had the most magnificent garden. Darcy stepped up to the gate and smelled the pretty roses.
Old Lady Peggy smiled at her and asked. "Well hello, Darcy, how bout this wonderful morning?"
"It's quite delightful!" Darcy exclaimed and then asked, "What are you to do today?"
Old Lady Peggy answered kindly, "For my weekend, I will be tending to my garden."
"It's so lovely, Peggy, may I help?" Darcy asked.
"Yes of course, my dear,"
Darcy then climbed the gate and began watering the plants. Her garden was magnificent, filled with all kinds of plants and flowers. "How have you got so many pretty flowers, Peggy?" Darcy asked.
"I work real hard to keep them happy, and they keep me happy, my dear."
She had the best garden in the neighborhood, although you can't see it behind the old raggedy gate. Most people wouldn't even notice after taking a look at Old Lady Peggy's Old Lady house.
"How was you're week Peggy?" Darcy asked.
"It was long, I worked very hard." She sighed,
"Why do you work so hard Peggy?"
"So that I can one day buy my dream car, a blue VW bug!"
"What will you do with you're blue VW bug, Peggy?"
"I will drive it far to go see all the nice flowers outside of this neighborhood. But until then, I will work real hard and enjoy the the little things, like my Apple tree."
Darcy hadnt even noticed the Apple tree. There was a lot of little things all around the garden that hardly anyone would notice. Darcy finished watering the plants and decided to continue in her adventure, giving Old Lady Peggy a big hug before taking off.
Darcy walked down the street, with a huge yellow dandelion in her hair. She stopped in front of Old Man Johnny's house. Old Man Johnny had a huge mansion, with its own basketball court, it's own tennis court and lots of big fancy cars in the front.
Old Man Johnny sat on his porch and made calls on a tiny cellular phone. Darcy walked up to him and asked.
"Old Man Johnny, do you like the dandelion in my hair?"
"Oh, little Darcy, you should take that weed out of your hair!"
Old Man Johnny hung up his phone and stepped off the porch, his fancy shoes clicked and clacked as he trampled through the rose bush in front of him and stared down at little Darcy.
"What can I do for you, sweetheart?"
Taking her off of the smooshed roses, she asked kindly. "Would you like to play basketball?"
"No sweetheart, I don't play basketball."
"Would you like to play tennis?"
"No sweetheart, I don't play tennis."
"Well, what are you to do on this lovely Saturday morning?" Little Darcy asked.
"I am going to try to sell one of my cars. Would you like to see my cars?"
"Sure thing Johnny." Darcy happily accepted.
Old Man Johnny took her to his garage to show her his cars. He had several excellent cars.
"Which one are you selling, Johnny?" Darcy asked.
"This old blue VW Bug." He pointed at a gorgeous little car. "It's an old hunk of garbage, sweetheart."
"You dont like it?"
"No, not anymore. I want a new car."
Darcy counted one, two, three, four, five cars, all very different and nice looking. "And how was you're week Johnny."
"It was alright. I worked real hard. But I got to buy a lot of nice things."
"Johnny, why do you need a new car when you've got so many?"
"Sweetheart, you wont understand until you're older, but even if you eat the worlds best steak every night for diner, you get tired of steak."
Darcy said goodbye to Old Man Johnny and he smirked at her and handed her a quarter. "Go get yourself something you'll like." Darcy smiled at him and continued down the road.
At the end of the road she saw an unfamiliar man. He lay in the street, as if he had no care in the world. He was dirty and had hair all over him.
Darcy approached him and asked. "Hello there, I'm Darcy, how are you doing on this wonderful day?"
"Oh, Little Darcy, I'm quite fine. My name is Dirty Dick. You have such a lovely flower in your hair. How are you doing today?"
"I'm great, Dirty Dick!" She smiled. "And what are you doing for you're weekend?"
"Same as I always do, cutie pie, enjoying the air."
"And what did you do this week, Dirty Dick?"
"Well, cutie pie, I did just this."
"No work, Dirty Dick?"
"Sweetie pie, this is work."
"And why do you work, Dirty Dick."
"For this, to enjoy the air."
"And where do you live, Dirty Dick?"
"Well, right here, cutie pie."
He then slid a little bucket her way. She smiled at him and dropped her quarter into it.
"Thank you Little Darcy."
"Thank you Dirty Dick."
It was a wonderful weekend.
Fer me zombie lovaz
Currently listening to: Aesop Rock
You gotta watch this video. blood, guts, tits, hip hop, zombies, even John Darnielle.