The hamster walked alone broken hurt and on the verge of ending it all.
The streets of Hello were empty as the head of the arsehole who created it .
He just couldn't take it anymore school was driving him nuts his family were insane and there had to be more to life than sitting in his room on weekends listening to shitty music writing angst driven poetry and masturbating to internet porn.
Anymore viruses and his computer was going to be more infected than Katy Perry's rancid crouch .
All hope was lost when he saw it in the parking lot a van with the words M.R Gonzo's advice and free clinic walk-ins and homeless nymphos welcome .
It sort of looked like a old bookmobile and smelled like a whorehouse or something that had died in a whorehouse .
The young misguided hamster figured what the fuck did he have to lose so he knocked on the door .
It swung open as a cloud of smoke poured out the door it looked like a scene from towering inferno or Willie Nelsons tour bus .
After hacking up half a lung and getting a contact high a face of true poetic brilliance emerged from haze of smoke .
And the young hamster was looking straight at the one the only the often perverted cult leader of Hello Gonzo.
Hey there amigo fuck bud you don't know how glad I am to see you come the fuck in .
Saying the that the living legend Of Hello grabbed his school book and vanished into smoky hollow .
The kid sat there awhile not knowing if he should run or follow this nut job .
Well that is until a hand reached through the fog and pulled him in.
What the fuck kid your wasting a great buzz you know how long it took me to get this bake going in here have a fucking seat.
The inside of the place looked like some cross between a Pub and a bad seventies porn minus the ugly chicks with cracked out faces and Chewbacca between there legs .
Ummm maybe I should leave .
The kid said scared of this scene and the mad hatter of a person sitting with a stiff drink in hand a umm well lets just say a herbal cigar in the other .
Bud you need to relax I tell ya I got the munchies from hell .
With that said he took a bite out of the text book.
Jesus Christ this shit tastes more and more like cardboard dude I aint paying for this fucker .
Umm I'm not a pizza delivery guy and that's my math book asshole .
Yeah of course I knew that im just fucking with you sparky .
Okay man fifty bucks .
The young hamster was convinced this guy was totally insane .
Fifty buck's for what ?
Duh Fifty for the weed dumbass what you really think anyone would come here for fucking life advice from me?
I mean sure I'm fucking awesome as fuck I do great drugs I drink more than a fish and chicks dig me I mean sure you don't see any around that's just cause there on a break man I'm kind of finding myself .
You know just me my drugs and the wilderness .
Okay that explains why this place looks like you live in it there's a stack of porn movies that looks like you raided a wharehouse and your parked in a vacant lot in the city.
Yeah well least Im not some kid selling terrible pizza's that taste like paper oh yeah your late bud so this ones on the house .
I'm not a pizza boy you crazy old bastard !
Taking a long pause the artist formerly known as Gonzo was dead silent .
You have a point pizza boy who am I kidding I live in a kickass converted bookmobile where I basically sell dope to little shits looking to get high and hopefully get to see some boobies in between
and you my wise public servant of terrible tasting pizza are yet living a existence of misery selling shit for us stoners to stuff are wasted faces with.
Dude are you fucking nuts I'm not a pizza delivery boy I'm just a young writer looking for advice .
The young hamster went into his whole tale woe how nobody liked him and he was being picked on by asshole jocks who seven years from now would working the same dead end job as himself jerking off to old game video's well the ones that didn't make it to the NFL and had super model whores blowing them while they watched old game videos that is .
He rambled on as the wise slightly stoned and definitely drunk wizard of Gonz pretending to care and listen much like he did to chicks he was trying to get lucky with.
You know Gonzo your really fucking weird but man I feel better .
I bet you were once just like me a outcast loser wimp who was deeply sensitive and yearned for the love of another.
He just stayed silent sitting across from the table a wise man hidden behind dark glasses and madness .
So what do I owe you man ?
Umm Gonzo man are you lost in thought or something ?
The young dork had just bared his angst ridden soul and now he thought to himself shit man I think it was to much for him no wonder he's gone insane from listening to my bullshit .
It felt like a hour as he kept trying to get the poet known as Gonzo to respond .
He was about to get off his arse and shake him when a noise more fowl than Justin Biebers voice broke the silence .
It was the biggest and longest fart he had ever herd and smelled almost as bad as gonzo's demented long winded jokes .
Finally he showed signs of life oh dude I forgot to tip you so sorry shit I had the best sleep of my life your better than listening to the newest Taylor Swift cd hell I was like in a coma dam did you shit in here I swear you kids and your silly pranks it's okay kid I swiped your wallet.
You wont believe the shit I can pull when your asleep.
So you mean this whole time I been spilling my heart out to you thinking we were really becoming friends you were fucking asleep!?
Like a drunken baby after a good binge in the trailer park amigo .
Fuck this !!
With that the young miserable moody ass teen hamster was gone and again gonzo was left to his thoughts to reflect on maybe he should have.
Aww fuck that shit he said and cracked another fifth of bourbon and turned on some first class smut I'm talking bout the evening news hamsters get your minds out of the gutter.
Sure life can be total shit look at mine it's like a landfill of fucking crap.
But instead of being emotional pussy.
I do what any grown man who lives a mobile bar does .
Drink my liver silly and party my arse off writing shitty misspelled things to make people laugh and get hamsters to show me there boobies duh I'm just like Shakespeare minus the talent and funny dungeons and dragons voice .
Until next time kids stay crazy.
The bottle and old thoughts haunt me all the same
In whispers of what was and should never be did we lose our way
or just vanish as quickly as the night before the day?
So many times I thought of lines
now simply I cast shadows where the blank spaces do reside.
Tomorrow cannot promise so why should I?
Let the words hold there own where I never could .
We all have a cross to bear and me?
I prefer to simply drive in the stake
But make no mistake,
what's nailed upon
an empty cross
is full of regret and loss
and underneath a barren plain
is buried pleasure and sadistic pain
self recriminations and needless blame,
but all the same
we build empires of shame
to live inside as truly insane
we drink from memories
that stoke a flame
to burn eternally, assuring fame
and comfort in a well of regret
we drink to forget, tomorrow
was just a promise made to us
by those that sit at our feet
when they crawl upon our laps
we are beat, we are trampled beneath
our own demise, we hid beneath
our own disguise
and we expired, when we desired
surcease from our wickedness
As I walk a red card in my jacket and miles of empty thoughts long cast aside
No words find solace were the demons cling to their vices.
All things decay as if to remind the living of the walk we all must bear
I find no guilt in my pleasures just more scars to bare in happiness to none.
Whispers of once was lay in empty thoughts.
I speak with a mouth full of razors all to eager to cut down the meek .
No words hold me in chains I simply but as I will nothing speaks clearly as a pause of silence.
And the old thoughts that linger to grow into rumors
Now they are all that is left of me .
Rumors of old bones that litter
the path to ruin are spoken by
those that whisper to dead ghosts
and kiss bloodless lips
inside crumbling passages
of age old keeps, on windswept
moors where bleeding eyes leak
tears weeping for something more
Down the streets cobbled with fear
slicked with garbage and the stench
of ever rotting verbiage,
Speak no more in silence, cry no more in penance of an oft abused
life that only walks alone under an
ever present thunderstorm of
howling winds and lightening strikes
and icy rivulets that trickle upon skin
This walk of sin is where it begins .
From sleeping in streets to walking miles alone I have come to a direction the page just cannot follow my friends .
I have chased the bottom of a glass since I was fifteen and that was to far to be anything more than a blurred memory.
And to the times that seemed to matter.
Now only to those who haven't lived my existence a lone wolf knows no true direction just simply howls to let the others know he does still exist.
Are words betray us and then eventually it all fades .
I'm not the act I'm the delusion that fueled a ego now left to wither a dead tree in a forest of many .
None will recall but far to many will simply use bullshit when facts get in there way of a good story .
Tonight I sat under a full moon and howled as the wolves often do.
There was only silence that followed the eco .
Even the lost know there is no hope for the madness .
When your words betray you and only a dead tree remains.
Maybe another time the stars will find me in good favor .
And like those around tonight will listen and only stay silent to the lone wolfs howl.
You were that illusion sex and madness tied together twisted to perfection and almost as flawed as myself.
In the backseat escapes and the fucking blur still casts the delusion over my thoughts a fog over the mornings water just out of reach and
still with in reach of reasons denial .
How can we feed upon broken promises as I cast stones to lies I
spoke myself I just told mine long enough to believe they were truths. Far better than your own.
Sometimes we purge are chaos to understand are vices or simply
make believe somehow we will live immortals not fade into wrinkled bastards like all the rest.
We tasted it once and saw the storm pass only to pretend the fire that burnt was a ghost now only to haunt two fools and I truly never was much for regrets but I sure have been one to most.
pleasures shared miles so far behind all roads lead to the same fucked up ending sweetheart cant you see as I?
Last calls and empty promises like glasses left to be cleaned by another days light.
It passed a season like any other .
It was just as another summer so we thought .
In empty pages and stark contrast the storm chased away the weak now alone I stand.
The hero a pawn truth cast aside for others cause .
We embrace solutions where no problems exist.
May the colors run red from forgotten cause and history be erased for the sake of all that must be forever mundane.
I wish only to drag you to the depths and leave you to linger where nothing but a child's logic can remain
In spider webs we threw are thoughts now tangled the words left to wither in passing days.
May we dance in empty halls to illuminate the shadows and create the ghosts for others to place there hopes of what never shall be again.
To silence the voice is but closing the chapter to spite the clear view .
Nothing stands a statue for the promise of tomorrows decay and the bastards will parade there ignorance as the simple minded spread a plague to which we are losing this battle.
I write for no one to read and all to judge.
Where's the laughter now the jester is asked in ruins of a kingdom now simply reduced to ruble.
I remember what you will never taste and you may judge but waters tasted pure beats the stolen verses and burrowed lines of a time I no longer care to understand.
And Time passed me as it will pass you just the same .
May the silence remind you of that which never was to be.
We all will know this place someday.
I listened to the sounds of a nights life as it was on truest display.
On yet another dead end night.
No deadlines, no friends to annoy, no voices to echo shattered thoughts together.
Long since had the audience grown cold and I simply deaf to their presence nothing drowns an ego worse than the reality's of a distant storm.
I listened like a ghost story.
A child's fears matched only by the amazement of what never could be and the night kept rhythm with my soul as emptiness washed the troubles aside for now .
Holds you closer than any lover shall.
We are lost to our thoughts and me just lost for the sake of being gone.
I enjoy my distance now the wolves can call but no longer do I feel the burden to run .
Nothing is as peaceful as knowing the hand doesn't have to yearn for the pen.
Simply let the thoughts go as they linger in seconds my hours were never wasted .
For what never was could never be lost.
Time tells me I'm done .
And the night simply speaks to me in gentle whisper of darkness .
Be bound not by shackles for now you are free .
Every drip from bleeding pen
will forever drop
into an ocean
of broken hearts and distant shores
drowning hopes and flailing flaws
Every line, a path to cross
detailing every love lost
Every hate turns into crime
presenting as a moment in time
failing are the words
sitting as wingless birds
as Winter settles
upon us under snow clouds
we allow to own us
Our words will ever fail
leaving a faint trail
that allows me to find you
but only if you speak true
Speak to me
so I feel rhythm
give my heart beat a rhyme
break me out of this prison
where words have failed me
I'm done being a prisoner
for committing no crime
And the old habits once that led to good times
are just now old addictions
it wasn't supposed to last
to see another day
now it's fifteen years.
With the scars we bare
the shackles sting
we forged a prison
only to never see past the bars
Empty scenes and the faces
I no longer recall
I'm beyond the edge
welcome to the abyss.
Fuck the greetings lets just start this
as strangers who have grown all to familiar to the flame.
The story is there I just don't care to recall.
Perhaps because you sit there
at the edge of a fiery pit
casting memories into a flame
that were never legit
mocking the chains that hold me
casting aspersions to the skies
when did you get so close
to Purgatory, held hostage
by others lies?
Unchain me from this misery
how so easy it is to forget
the path taken to Ecstasy
is scarred with arrowed hearts
something more scary than
Lost Love and littered with
bones of Regret
You know the story well
you feed the fire with it's ripped pages
As in wasted lies and tattered pages nothing feeds a fire like a good dose of delusion.
No more do I view the possibilitites, simply count the days and escape further into myself.
Sometimes we find within the depths there are no clear answers .
Sometimes locked within we find just more emptiness and nothing more.
Old tracks and new scars together keep company with stories
I care no longer to tell.
The page as it was before you is as broken as before we met.
Does it all ever truly change or just become as twisted and bitter as I?
Do we wish to re read old stories, those that shattered into glass?
Do we want to tell the same old tales? Should we even try to rehash?
Sitting in the darkness, tracing old scars, feeding the fire from pages
that are not who we really are.
Wishing we were progeny of those that had it good.
Thinking we are better than most but they misunderstood
that we stand in front of the fire, feeding it pages from our book,
never understanding all the mistakes that we took.
Never understanding that we listen to our conscious as we lay,
never understanding there was a price we had to pay.
We tell old stories out of the same old lies
In seconds and empty barrooms taking comfort in space
and drowning in distance .
We wore this disguise, we no longer can recognize our own reflections .
Sometimes truth is the only thing that keeps us from the destruction
all of it built upon lies .
The tides change, taken to a distant shore only returned like a message in a bottle,
discovered long past our time .
Why weather the storm when we always preferred it’s chaos my dear?
Old wrongs would be far easier if not feeling ever so right .
Sometimes you have to follow a dead-end for the pure hell of knowing.
And in that dead end we find the final passage of the book
Written in blood, scratched upon the walls,
tucked away in some hidden nook, in a corner
where we like to hide our eyes.
The final lines of a storm damaged mind, a wrecked soul cast upon a lonely
tide, the final words scratched into scars that wind around a body like a
The last three words scribbled in a bloody mess..
What a joke!
In empty crowds and fallen stars we often see only what gives us a much easier day.
Wine with regrets, hearts and barbwire confessions, none where ever as true as you .
Bleed those thoughts once more and we will pretend together .
This waltz is as clear as a sinking ships bliss
tell them all I've long since gone insane
Give my regards to your memories for I will burn in their illusions
till our Hell is left barren, no remorse suits the ash as does this bitter pill
and a never existent flame.
To hide what is so easily viewed now the scars we bare with such glee in a perfectly twisted display.
Give me no tomorrows promise for I only yearn for today.