Thursday, 18 February 2010

u know youre within range by the dissonant singing of your gps into the cave that once was the now extinct relic we called 'intuition'

yes it may be ironic. like sunny side eggs on a fog strewn mornin. ironic or just real funny. eggs and condensed air both kinda runny. guess what? im in the mix, the same label same category same genetic predisposition as you. its true. so i can take liberties aint that right? cause at the end of the day you and i still gotta be tight? yes.

maybe ill kick on your old tires? dress up and laugh at your sad chase of long lost desires? sometimes i look for where they hid my wires, its true.  i sense air pockets, blank gaze, im turnin a shade blue...my ends, they just gotta be fraysed, i can feel it...my mind these days stuck on mode: delayed. how could there not be wires? mine are frayed, about to catch fire i just feel it. like cars hemming me into tight spaces, close to the point where the tracers have traced it, got my # got me figured. banging into both my fenders, with rigor.

all i can do is listen to whats going on, cant you hear it? all the latest technology save us now....or redirect us please, to a less trafficked site...right now? we're nowhere near it.

Shhhh! wait now listen, can u hear it? they truly answered my cry. oh no. insert thats the laundry machine gettin the clothes clean, how they does that? spinning fabric around in anti-gravity chamber. add water then heat, change direction on a dime. these machines got over on us, by design. to let us perceive just how far from FINE we are; our timing belts wrapped around person or place, not the time. 

toss my throat at that magnum of cheap red wine some machine corked to keep fresh for me. to brave the stale sentient being production. scratching my lotto scratchers so to feign adrenaline. cash anticipation in my dome. 2 tylenol almost second nature like walking home. ought to switch to aspirin to prolong the suffering. Get something between me and it, yes, call it bufferin. too scared to die, yet a breath away from her, too...she smells just like animals, death is a zoo! just one wrong jaw move away, we are today, post entrance of chinese chicken wing. tastes so good, thats the recall! euphoric as ever, ten fucking feet tall! my addictively organized mind like butter she melts. begins to forget names, places, things, right before reason goes under. all sense now are 'felt'. Hey, enjoy it! Cop a feel on your senses, divert time and all tenses.

Water is what we made of, that i know for sure. this is the thread that i conjured to relate. so i could give you all of my unfiltered state of mind. had to suggest some common ground or kind. sorry if i misled you, then again your path was weak. boiled down from chlorine, of nitrous oxide we just reek! Like they put us in the radiator of my Impala in the Sahara, thats about sums up our chances to endure. See i always get nihilistic until twenty after four. I slave away all day satisfying my desires. Some computer is out there putting out my fires. I manicure my nails, skin, hair, and toes, thats how urban life simply goes. Busy waiting for another photo ID to download... while sucking on some java joes. This gotta be the deep well of shame, man, always trying to recapture identity.  searching google and wikipedia for clues...all the sunshines been compressed and converted; to deep barebottom betty blues.

And naked once the jeans come off, blue. the green tint of skin once golden, gets my ass to laundry folding. so to hide the self i try to find. oh? is it that time again? cell provides some fluorscent digital comfort, in essence,  time again to unload self, rewind. drop back on the pillowtop favors, luxury is stuffed like the duck getting down like goose, or the rubber and latex down with hoes, now how do we spell that? ho or hoe? fuck if i know, knoe, just give the blowjob in return for the dough, hough. fuck its not rocket science, just take off your cloughs! nobody knows and thats the reality. your knowledge my friend was the first fucking casualty. secondary to awareness, my friend. what a reward consciousness has been!

everything like its been done before. nothing knew, just another tour through this purgatory of progressive tidal movement back to helpless empowerlessness via our tech savvy sauce...as transparent a decline as that glue that replaced the rue of brown gravy. yet were still working on behavior modification. best way of doing seems like taking a longer vacation. hey! its so you can see what your eating silly! not forking around your plate, now, really! embrace it like your own kind, your kin. or we shall leave your ass behind -- to suck on the fins of each extremity.

well! five alive! seven eleven, now here have we recourse to our self-construed heaven! isolated on some freeway left behind. pay the sufferin family oldnews arguing no more necessary obligatory bloodtied mind! this kinda sufferin is just too kind. as be the buds in my shirt pocket. roll up with slow burns and blast the final frontier of brain cells off the burnin lootin red of my eye socket.

then hitchhike against common decency. maybe they pick me up for black market organ shopping -- atleast i manifest the latest currency. a risk something raw! animal-like teeth cut kind of danger like metal meeting hacksaw. only chance to live like sentients used to, happening with seconds to spare. and all this time you thought well of what you wear, you thought life to exist via sedentary lifestyle, you found life in a chair. what a surprise when you fell over backward. woke your ass up better than ringtones you freeloaded. using your mind in profound fashion, left in a body half-dead.

well anyway, this has been a fun roasting of us, another thing to do on lifes lethargy bus. no seat belts, know why? cause deep down inside we all wanna die! oh thats horrible! how could i say it? i shook up some conservative huffington post hater crowd. any talk about suicide goes past the politics, see? theyre mingling with a liberal crowd as they carve up your ribs. fuck you! im not lobster, how dare you bring bibs! whoa? im still talking and thinking and breathing? how could this be in deaths cold cold season? i cant tell, dont know, have no feeling or vision. i know only im the subject of popular derision. and soon to be digest like mare cow of bison. wait! i may afterall not win, but could there be a decision? cause how can i be here, how am i still livin? i feel more alive than i did in my body. possible life started when backward land ended. all those people i called family were simply befriended, embodied, kind of dying.

im not making this up, no, im not even trying. its obvious here, as they approach with their sporks, coming at my old body is like escape from new york! no more bloody humid chaos, no more jam packed weeks building up for just a day off! i can move about freely in time, space, and atomic fucking energy! the human race a distant memory, my vehicle? discard it, to the salvation army cause im saved alright. my ass is grass and im fine. watching those motherfuckers fall in line to dine on me. eat the world you suckers, set fire to the sky. ask why what when how whomever you feel like it, for just another lie y'all tell yourselves, so scared to die.

i guess i was too, i guess i feel for you. cause little do you know, and lots do you not. the battles you thought to win, the pointless battles we all fought. the truth and integrity we all sought. all for naught. all for naught. go home, my friends, go let gravity take ya. let the summer sun in the window to soothe that heart, heart that aches, huh? bleed your passion out, cleaning up after. here it is, last place i thought to find it...that spirit i was after. hey! guess what? now i feel so much better! to get that load of crap of my mind, set fire to it like a letter. let it go and escape into the atmosphere.

sorry if you inhaled. i did not mean to provoke a tear. or tear into your sense of well-being. all is for being not for doing nor for knowing. my deciduous words fell like leaves no longer growing. discard them with weeds you pull from your gardens, overgrowing. and we can still be friends right? return to the seeds we were sewing?

i like this, sewing seeds with you. i like it. just being with you. knowing nothing. laughing and then crying. getting angry as hell!!! then more laughing. just fine with some TLC, smiling, back to sewing....all of a sudden it comes over me, natural -- flowing.