I took the train had a good trip on my way back i met a woman but i drank too much and threw up straight whiskey.

How's that for shitz & giz? HA!

I am not human.

I know this because I am a creature.

I know this because creatures lack the power to be human.

I am as dead as a myth of a creature.

I just want some good ******* ****.

Yes, I want to go back to San Francisco
A place where my Skeletons wont tag along.
Tirelessly wondering
I've been up for days
Again with these wine stained cracked lips
My spirit is driven by caffeine
Here I am again in mindless wondering
I attempt to grasp on to a miracle
My hopeless romanticized vision of romance pathetically lingers
Back here in San Francisco
A place where I feel like I belong
Back here in San Francisco
This time my skeletons tagged along

There are times when I walk
There are time when I run
There are times when I sleep
There are times when I rest
There are times when I am resilient
There times when im vulnerable
There are times when I am anxious
There are times when I am solid
There are times when I am falling apart
There are times when I am put together
There are times when I have no idea
There are times when I think I have an idea
There are times when I feel useless
There are times when I feel on top of the world
There are times when I feel damaged
There are times when I understand my damage
There are times when I think “what the **** am I doing”
There are times when I think “I’m ok. I’m doing it right”
There are times when I think “****! What the hell am I supposed to do now?”
There are times when I think “Who cares?”
There are times when I think  
There are times when I think
There are times when I think

- J.D. Maxwell

There is something quite beautiful that lies in the silence  
3:48 in the morning.
You know everyone you can think of is a sleep,
blissful in their own dream space.
Alone with your thoughts
alone in time
simply beautifully alone.
Things are quieter.
Docile.
Yet, they are still sharp with your own pondering of life’s ambtions.
I do this sometimes.
I wake up.
I sit
embrace the cold night air.
Sitting in my own head
my own dream space

Sitting in an old dusty bar
Not a dollar to my name
Sitting here with old dusty friends
Just trying to reclaim my name
Wondering around seeing those old live bands
Ill be sick and tired till the wind rolls me in
Roll this dust off my sleeves and ill let you in
Aimless wonder, I’ve been up for days
My body grows weary
Yes, yes I'll be sick and tired till the wind rolls me in

Sitting on the banks of the muddy Mississippi staring toward the Illinois side we yelled at barges for hours. Not a care in the world, except the beer that was getting warm in our backpack. As Lewis and Clark stared back at us we knew we were the social obscurity.

Sitting on the banks of the muddy Mississippi higher than **** on acid, we knew our summer was coming to and end. Not a care in the world except the depleted ***** and the music’s fading battery. As we wondered the small town, we knew we were the social obscurity.

Sitting on the banks of the muddy Mississippi, up all night yelling at the moon, we knew our friendship would last forever. Not a care in world except the night was ending and the morning beginning. As we fell asleep in the morning light, we knew we were the social obscurity.

Sitting on the banks of the muddy Mississippi we stared back at the arch. We knew the Venice Café would be closing soon. Not a care in the world except the heat of the mid-west summer night. As ****** in the river, we knew we were the social obscurity.