Welcome ladies and gentlemen to the age of the dead,
where we raise our children to be worse than the last.
Welcome to the era of the self conceited,
and the arrogant.
We've been raised in the age,
where the amount of likes on our pictures,
is considered more worthy than our own morals.
Welcome to the age of self deranged idiots,
that run amongst our streets causing havoc.
Welcome to the generation of the lost cause.
Where the teenagers are feared and cause chaos.
Have you opened your eyes yet?
Welcome to the age of the broken,
were we are believed to be the kids that won't amount to anything.
Welcome one and all to this world,
this society that has become hell.
Because you see we raise our children,
to feel as if they need to fit specific standards,
in order to be worth anything.
The young woman of this era,
believe they need to look like the girls in the magazine,
to be worth a mans affection.
Welcome to the time where being skinny, pretty, and tan,
is worth more than the knowledge in a woman's head.
Or the generation where we teach our daughters to "cover up,"
instead of teaching our sons right from wrong.
Now we can't forget the boys,
we teach our sons that they are less than a woman,
we raise them to feel like their lives are worth less than a woman's.
Or how about the fact that we raise our sons,
to believe that "swag" and "****" are the cool things to be.
This is the generation of terror,
do you not see that we are this worlds future?
The kids of today are influenced by what we see,
brain washed by what's put on the T.V.
You see we've raised our kids to believe,
that we are a failure to our society.
Is this what you wanted?
Look how warped our world has become,
the apocalypse is here.
The apocalypse where technology, and our contorted image of normal,
has overtaken the world.
Schools no longer educate,
only mesmerize our kids into lifeless bodies.
Music no longer has meaning,
its only about being on top and *******, hoes, and money.
Art is discouraged,
a splash of paint is considered more artistic than a spray painted master piece.
Do you see the problem here?
Our government slips everything under the noses of its people,
because society makes out petty things to be important.
Our society is so distorted,
and nobody even sees that us kids are your future.
So
Do I have your attention now?

T.B.

Life and death are one in the same; most people just don’t know that. Once you realize that our conscious doesn’t walk the line between the two realms and they all exist in the same realm, you’re entirely ******.  The mundane reality of our existence becomes shockingly clear and it makes you wonder; who gives a ****?  For some reason or another we are expected to, just like we are expected to go to school, just like we are expected to get a job, just like we expected to work our lives away until we are old and gray, then we are expected to enjoy our golden years; die and go on to heaven or whatever. What happens when you reject these conceptions fundamentally and create your own. I don’t know… you don’t know… nobody knows. We could all just **** ourselves and maybe that would fix the world, well… no; that wouldn’t fix the world, but it might fix mine. That seems like a terrible idea doesn’t it? Self-destruction for self-preservation. What I mean by that is this, the world will either crush your soul and **** you, or **** you. So why take the risk, risk the disappointment? This was a wildly depression interpretation of existence. Maybe it's like this because I’m stuck in some dumpy ******* town… Where people drink to drown their boredom, which I find wildly depressing and somehow they soak it up. My entire life has been broken up into 14days on and 7days off. This means I spend 2 thirds of my life with this uninspired people how think binge drinking is the only way to have a good time. I suppose there was a time in my life when I could relate; however unfortunate that is. But now I’ve lost the desire to do so. Where are the other people in my life and in my writing? So focused on my own views on the world with know one else’s ideas or perception. Loneliness seems to be a theme of my life, and understanding myself is my great pilgrimage. The exploration of my body and soul can be achieved. It  begun when I realized I was a conscience being, The first time I contemplated suicide was at the ripe all age of 13. Why I thought about this on a beautiful day at the lake I had visited in the summer with my family for years, puzzles me to this day. Which happens to be the origin of some of my fondest memories. On my bike in the green space that over looks the beach next to the lakeside community center. The sun was bright and the day was hot. Family and friends that I’d known for years surrounded me. Could have been the fear of rejection from the girls that I had little boy feelings for. Interesting how the fear of rejection on such a minor scale can lead to self-destructive thoughts when I should have been playing in with my friends and riding my bike. Trying to write a story… but instead I get a case study for a psych student. Idle hands are the devils playthings. I was thinking earlier; as I was trying to find an activity for the evening and being told time after time that the bar called the Detour was the best place in town to have fun because in this town that’s where people go to drink and here drinking is the thing to do. I thought writing with all that for inspiration would be very difficult. Turns out that it’s not really difficult but **** is it depressing. I want my mind and soul to be immersed in art, music, poetry, philosophy and love; not drenched in close-minded thinking and rye whisky. But here we are, writing in my surprisingly nice hotel room. It’s brand new and the beds are fancy, I thought two pillows was more than enough, but here… I have FOUR! **** shame I have no one to share it with, but that’s to be expected. I feel like Weyburn Saskatchewan isn’t the place where I’m going to find the love of my life and I sadly don’t have much interest in becoming intimate with some unsavory harlot with tattoos being the primary sense of identity.  It doesn’t interest me in the slightest. There was a lovely girl at the restaurant today though, I was there earlier for dinner. She was from Victoria and seemed like a genuine person, but she had a boyfriend who dragged her out to this **** hole… yikes. I’m sorry beautiful, I hope he is a good man, because I would like to think that I could offer you more… but here I am... and what the **** do I know... Writing things that will probably never be read by another human being on earth, unless some catastrophic global event destroys everything on this planet expect my laptop and a few lucky survivors who repopulate and thirty thousand years from now they uncover this and recover my hard drive and finally read this. As unbelievable unlikely as that is, this one goes out to you future folks. Well done you guys really pulled through. If monkeys have taken over… I’m very sad that you’re reading my long dead words, I really feel like we would have really hit it off.

Ok ok, lets see if I can give you something worth reading. I want to write a novel, I real story. Something epic, heart felt and amazing. I don’t know if I can do it, but I have soooo much time to **** so **** it! I CAN DO IT!
Story ideas…
- Duel personally kleptomaniac
- Barbarian warlord tale… blood, guts, **** and  battle.
- Exploration of the world.
- Create my own world….
- A ****** tale about a guy who works in the oil patch and writes garbage, gets stuck and gets a cheese burger.

Alright… well that’s what I'm working with…. I'm going to get a cheese burger.

i hate this feeling
like i'm never good
enough or kind enough
or assertive enough or
positive enough or
smart enough or
creative enough or
just enough in general
i feel disposable and
replaceable and
the worst is when i
realize these aren't just
thoughts they're
reality

... What is in my heart,
Maybe
You would be surprised
By the pace of its beats,
Whenever I long for you,
Morning, and evening too.
And if you knew
How often I think of you,
Most likely
My love you would reject
And, once again,
Escape.