If I was to **** myself, it'd surely be today. I feel hollow as an abscessed heart.
This is why there are alcoholics.
This is why children grow into derelicts.
I can't escape the torment which circles my soul, and only the devil consoles me.

Some dude named "Dust" would always contact her
"Why don't you just block this guy if he's such a nuisance?" I'd say
"He finds ways of contacting me and he keeps bothering me"
"Yeah, but why do you even engage?"
And she would engage working her little thumbs, amused with the dysfunction.
He was a drug user afterall and incredibly manipulative. I'd hear about this guy all the time and how he was supposedly dangerous and had guns. I'd laugh.  I have guns too and am prone to mental instability but I'm not outwardly dramatic in the fashion he is nor do I really make a show.

But alas, a month or two went by and the relationship wasn't working. I wasn't crazy enough
and when that time came she blocked me.
I reached out one time after and there was no response.
Everybody has a choice, she made hers and Dust is still there in her head somewhere.  Don't be a 2nd

I moved on, and it took not caring
All I had to gain was a headache and another year of setbacks
I feel better alone.
I feel more like myself and more content in the silence, and silence is where I grow

I feel so much lonlier than when I was by myself
The dense humidity of this room crushes me
And I cannot sleep
I suffocate until I achieve a semblance of peace
Suicide is for beginners. Try living as a dead  man

Hello hello hello. I am awake, I dts d at the foot of the bed a d gobble oranges for my baby boy.
I was a dancer
You were a baker at the sqaut outside Denver.
I am push a coin in my head and flip to 43 inches below celcius.
"Noone cares". Well noone should. I feel ill
I told you yesterday, or actually I told noone
I feel ill and might like
Bit off my face I had a Jesus meltdown
Pray for them
Pray for them all
Pray for me too
Me too
Me too
I walk into a blue room

I realize I was writing a lot of abstraction without direction. any loser and fraud can write
''
  leaves pronounce the petulant tongue in noon like
leaky
dreams for a feathered
    fawn for its squirming young & the mouth opens for a foster mother in blue jeans.
  squeeze the juice of eternal life into a
  paper cut for faded  faculties"

it's alright, but it's not as impressive as saying ' Took a walk and I felt like blowing my brains out; it is 2:21 pm and I'm bored'
  it takes some guts to be vulnerable is all I'm saying, I like hiding behind abstraction, but when the hurt comes there are only so many purple skies and crippled hands you can paint; the void doesn't care about emotion but I sometimes like spitting in the face of eternity.
  an ant against an army of sorrow; you know the outcome, but you still try, to some avail

Addicted to my phone. It used to mean you were a nerd loser when you stared at a screen for an incomprehensible amount of hours, now it's the standard condition.
I ******* with my phone in my hand and lick the screen of the salty *** like all hetero men of today. I watched newly born kittens fed to pythons. I watch a beheading In Brazil as the guy gets his nuts bit off by a dog and is fed his own tongue. I watch reruns of whose line is it anyway, with cinnamon toast crunch like a man child because that is the zenith of existence. Never bleeding, only breathing in recirculated air. Your ***** are as weak as a clump of mud. You sold yourself to watch more screens, you knew it meant dulling The pain, but prolonging the horror of an infinite circuit ******. What was the point, when you could have just died? You could have seen the real lights

I really want a girlfriend
,.  I think..

But I really just want ***. That is all.

I could lie and manipulate and hit up girls that would gladly have *** with me but they want more and I feel cruel to mislead them.

I wish I didn't have these urges. I want to be alone , but I also want to feel human warmth. It's just never a certainty, even when you're married.
I'm too average for immediate hook ups; It's days of talking for me.
I'll figure out what to do, assuming I've learned anything , which I haven't

these 2 days feel like a month
and I'm just staring at a wall addorned with pictures of a frog that someone
felt tasteful to put up here.

some incense going-

the guy with the one eye,
out of a
colander
and glass vase.


styrofoam cups with seed.


beating heart bored of the routine

Max wants to beat up everyone
He has a lisp and a hunchback.  He thinks everyone actively conspires against him. I ignore him

Today I stole 3 milks more than the usual 1
Even a tangerine

I took the longest **** I could because I feel like I'm being molested on a daily basis and I'm entitled to that time.

I sat with Alyssa in her car while she talked about her boyfriend and the fact that he subscribed to an onlyfans and that she now feels betrayed. if I could put my genitals in her mouth I'd be content in the moment

I got no reason to wake up.
My alarm went off 20 after clock in so I called out sick
I am sick

very

You're my future wife
You're my girl.
I hold your hand
I kiss you
I bite your lip and kiss your nose
I nuzzle your breast and massage your feet
I caress your *****
I rub your back
I talk to you
I watch movies with you
I laugh with you and tease you, and you me
I make you angry and I make you sad
I make you cry
I kiss your neck
I wipe your tears
I embrace you and kiss your smile
I walk with you
Hand in hand
I see you in my dreams
I think of you constantly
I put my faith in you when I had none
I give you my time,  and my love,  and my best efforts
I want you
And I need you
But I don't own you
You were borrowed and I hope they forget.
The universe has collected enough
debts.
Just let me have
     this

They call it Hurricane because it turns your insides into a hurricane.
My dead friend called it '*** ****'
my other dead friend called it 'brewski', I call it stuff to get you through a miserable night.
Netflix and cartoons and icecream pops
I drive to Sav- On and collect my stamps
The world has five more years then Its over.
That's a Bowie reference
Sorry for wasting your time

bro I just met you why do you need my number?

wanna jam sometime I think.

k after work then probably.

cool man, bro.

text in my pocket, beeping while slicing beef.

I don't want to watch a movie with you and hold your hand bro,

sad face,
smiley with a syringe filled with *****.

bro.

bro.
bro hold me, bro come watch the sunset.


I swallow a grape as I walk along the moon.

beeping more,
beeping more, more sliced beef

****** lady
I spit on,
I spit on you.

bro,
dude, baby , guy , friendo,

flip a coin.

not your lucky day.


warheads were the **** back in the day
yep

This is the sound of a well acclimated and upstanding member of society eating his öats

I spoon said öats into my esophagus
with great dexterity
   And read many instruction manuals.
I practice essentialism. I cry when i need to.
Shake hands with my spouse
I forget the point now

Junk
This may be junk

There are commas and there are questions

Like junk
In your
Cellar
And junk in your spoon

The creeping
Dread is like family

Bonded by blood and
embittered by
time

He looked at a rothko and said "any child could do that"

"So?"

"It's crap, it's not art"

"Yeah it is. It's obviously an expression by the artist and is therefore art"

"Well it's just junk. I hate it. Art used to have skill"

"Well you seem really upset by it so I think it did its job. Rothko would be proud"

"IT'S NOT ART!"

Davinci wishes people cared this much

It always annoys when  you awake  in a sleep -apnea induced panic
gasping for air  and pacing around the room  as though you have a second to live
and thus must make amends with the universe.

I hate that  initial fear .   it's as though i'm capitulating to the entity that has wronged me.

I want to stare at death with smile--  not be  afraid.


Stand up to the bully.

Fake ******* *****
"I'M SO WEIRDDDD, I'M INTO ALL SORTS OF CREEPY **** 🤪"
the second I mention that I collect animal specimens she blocks me
It just hurts because I liked her face
I wanted to wear it

Crying to myself
Men cry more than women you just don't see it.


Stricken by the insurmountable odds and pressures, beaten down by impossible standards and unrelenting
strife and turmoil

I cry more than the average little girl,
You'd just never know. And Im not ashamed to admit it, but it's still my secret

my happiness lasts until my first sip of coffee til about an hour later then it's all down hill from here. the gloomy realization that I have 8 more hours of this until I can be asleep.
but sleeping in isn't enough
and I'll be awake all night
again
I don't know where I am,
time to go bury a goldfish and talk to crazed hobos so they can
flee in fear

The day is long in its nothing
I sit with a head wide open

The ants torment
the remains of
a little girl in the kitchen

The feathers fall along the trail

The pit is deep and so is the
longing

human relations bother me,

they're too much for someone who doesn't need much.
I try to be stoic, but they want me to be a faithful consumer and to give up all of me

I want love but hookers are expensive.
I want silence
but the tinnitus keeps me up at night.
I want solitude but the brick is a little too stiff to sleep on. I want death, but to see it for myself.
and I can't wait to see it

Salmon

Crayons

Brunch

Roaches

String cheese
Mm
Mm
We
The
Yy
Sphincter
Bb
Jk
Cc
Vv
Bb
Mm
Dung
Zz
Cc
Vv
­Bb
Bb
Gg
Hh
D's
Rabies
Gg
Jk
Jk
Jk
Mm
Yy
Ff
Cc
Nn
Mm
Mm
Vv
Cc
Cc
­Cc
Cc
Cc
Cc
Bb
B
Bn
Disease
Mm
Mm
N
N
B
B
C
C
C
C
C
C
C
C
C
C
C
C­
C
Disease
Mm
Mm
Nn
Bb
Vv
Bb
Bb
Jk
Jk
Hh
Hh
Ff
Tt
Tt
Uu
Uu
Ii
Ii
­Ii
Pp
Pp
Rr
Tt
Reduction

Fried moth goth in a stew with your whiskey **** I ****** good **** today
and ****** you under a door mat with my long foot but I had ***** ******.
Why did jovi then go washing the rocks?
You spit on him like a gooky *****, why now do I see it?
Haha
When Jordan was there I still freed fire flies
"Do as thou wilt" which side are you on dude.. The side with another slice of pastrami.
I feel it so much more when it starts

I can't enjoy peoples' company without being ****** up out of mind, drunk high etc.
I thought maybe it was a phase.
But I can't stand the parties. They are so boring. I am boring. I play darts anyway,
and smoke 100 cigarettes and **** the pipe.
it feels good at the moment.
but I am fake. I wish I didn't feel pain. I wish I felt love for my species. I wish someone knew my favorite color and cared

It's been a good few days because it has been so quiet. The neighbor hasnt blown any gas in my window lately and the cat hasn't puked in my rug.
I took a long bath and played with myself and played pink floyd "echoes live in Pompeii"
I laughed at someone i saw on my screen and gave him a thumbs up and i cried when i saw a silverback crying for momma.
It was a good day, quiet.
I had the heater on and jammed on my guitar and took a fish oil.
Then i walked down the road and didnt say hi to ryan because he's a goof. All he does is play pool and smoke *** and brag about his obese GF with her 2 kids that he willingly lets stay with him. Good deal man.
I make it back home and call my dad.
"I'm dying, I have anxiety" i say
He calms me down as usual. I lay back in bed and watch my phone. I clack away and now here i am writing this poem with nothing more to recount.
It is quiet, if only i actually listened and
enjoyed it rather than always write about it

I get sad seeing pictures of her with the new guy,
rubbing his back
and kissing etc etc.

I'm a ******* I guess in the sense that I search this stuff out intentionally.

I need to know how she's doing and apparently she's doing well.

but I see in the eyes of the wimp a very familiar expression.

he just recently went down on her and now he wants out and is feigning his affection.
   he's been drained of his money to buy frivolous ****.
  he's been punched in the gut for saying an innocuous joke.
he's been forced to clean up her 3 dog's piles of **** and stay up to 5 am arguing on a work night because of a manic episode.

    She is unlovable
but I somehow loved her, and for that I must forgive
myself

measured in miles
and weighed down by smiles,
the blue glimmer in your eye
now looks like chalk
.  dead
   and sleeping

sun ,  
i hate you.
    I hate you as you rise,
  as your gerber face creeps over the grass.
i  hate the purple water and the ants
   which march in unison to battle drums .
  i hate the orange juice smile as you pack away your things,
  i hate the
  whisper when it's already lost.  miles ahead,
   i hate a few things -- but the list gets shorter as i get
   older.
why hate what you cant change?

I came and I was sat down in another plushy red chair and I'd be there for 9 hours doing more quizzes and learning the history of the company. It was like school but somehow worse; I'd at least be getting $9 an hour which at that time, around 2012 was pretty much the same even accounting for inflation.
I sat there and clicked and clicked and clicked and watched videos on their desktop. I guess old Macy was a traveling gypsy and the store started out as a sort of snake oil salesman setup, then eventually he got the idea to sell pants and now we have the current incarnation.
Music pumped in through the speakers, and it was a mix of "closing time' by semi sonic, and "Beautiful' by Christina Aguilera. Was it a message?
I finished the ****, then they propped me up and had me do paperwork, and I had no record. I crossed 'No' on the molestation portion and did my drug test the next day. I passed again, and came in and was escorted around the mannequins into the Women's Intimates section. Wow, this is like a bad movie I thought.
"here you just sort through the clothes and put them back on the rack" the supervisor said coldly.
How the **** do you put underwear and bras back on the rack?
"And if customers have a question provide direction or assistance" she said then left and I was all alone picking up underwear off the ground and bras like a strange lost person.
   Right away customers approached me with their questions.
"Where's the restroom?"
" I believe it's over there" and I'd point north. They went North.
" Help, I need rung up!"
I pointed north again.
"There's no one there! Can't you ring me up" they'd say irately
"No It's my first day"
And they'd skitter elsewhere and I'd continue folding the underwear and bras. It was really boring. So many ****-colored ******* and bras, and hideous blue-green dresses clumped up like angry ***** of yarn, kicked around, someone else's problem.
   It'd be time for my lunch break then I'd wander the mall and buy some Thai food or something. I'd sit on the bench overlooking the lobby and the fountain and comtemplate existence and existentialism and what led me to this place, in a mall, air-conditioned folding ******* for $ nine dollars an hour. The more I thought, the more questions would arise and I'd inevitably feel panicked when coming back in.
  I wandered the halls aimlessly in the store, doing nothing. I had practically no supervision. I just got lost and meandered and took 5 ***** a day wondering when I'd be be called out. I never was. I got bored of taking ***** and when my break came up I couldn't take another ****. I didn't smoke then, so I had absolutely nothing to do. When my time was up for the day I was thankful. I drove home listening to bad punk music,
probably Adolescents. Probably Kids of the black hole.

If it takes so long. Then it takes all the gas,
Put your foot down. Because maybe there's a way to Chicago

blue moon scud missile detonating in LA.
MILLIONS perish and millions are displaced.
The queer bar is turned into a microwaved dirt mound and city hall is a black lung. Gavin newsome is a glowing red **** and the **** doesnt exstinquish his radiated carcass.

I fly by at night and talk to Toquito and the 2 bums.
"Yuhh?"
"Yuh"
I drive away kicking dust. The hills shake as volcanic lava spews forth and acid rain pummels the street. I have a taco from Toquito and lm racibg by at 120. I dodge the rain and a big steaming boulder rolls past. It crushes a bystander. A pit forms in the street and swallows the nearby buildings. I skate by the cracking pavement and my car nearly slips in the pit. As i speed past the street crumbles entirely and all that remains is a hellish inferno. I continue on for about an hour and the hellish vision subsides. I park my car and fall asleep and in the next morning drive to china. I have panda express and write of my harrowing journey on my 17 follower blog

One day I'll be free and I wont care
I will sit on the cement stairs and waste my time the right way

Alone in a grey cell with a bottle of juice

I cant wait for my
passage.

It takes 2 to move this
Stone

Tapping a phone screen in a yellow room with white walls,
breathing in chemical solution from Tuesday's
mold treatment
The ham sits half eaten, half defrosted.
There are dead women in my head who despite being dead still haunt my soul with vindictiveness.
There is animal hair on the rug and amimal feces in the flower ***.
A horn sprouts up from behind the TV wall.
There is a percolating coldness and it falls over me with the understanding that there is no escape.
My car is in the junkyard, my money
is in a billionaire's pocket,
my sanity is squandered concentrating on vicarious social media delusion.
I am a modern day human and nothing is wrong here.

i once
paid
for a *****


and it was a two for one special-

and she took an additional $40 from my wallet
of which i forgot to subract from the $160 total.

it was after a concert.

and i drove home
then walked a little bit around a pond and fed a few ducks and it smelled from the rotting goldfish
and the old mexican lady washing her clothes with that familiar
stench wafting around.

i was tired.
but i was buzzed for a good 3 days, and i just don't know what i'm even doing anymore
or what this all means.

but the fact that i remembered it must mean something-

maybe that i should try it again,

or at least just buy a doll on amazon for 350 dollars and a new pair of shoes
for
church on saturday
because this other pair is getting kind of ratty.

but really
my head itches sometimes and these people outside want to **** me

and the earthquake
stole my children from me when i was barren for so many years.

years wasted

picked a plum     whistling        hound

barking profound

kissed a cigg

juggling     a foamy tea kup

wating
for the handyman

leaky pipe    and a French fry.

sincere artist
-   faithful autist     -  mislabeled  ,
and misunderstood.


pride unkown  --  message unclear  -- -      teeth too chattery

batman flattery

**** in the jug     with charcoal  paints   and a toothbrush  to clean up

I love growing out my hair and beard, it feels Noble and wise
Why did we ever bother with vanity anyway
It just shows we had nothing better to do
The Mammoth had already been slain, now we were just watching a pale sun that never seemed to set

I have a gun behind the oatmeal in the left-hand cupboard.
I like touching it when I scoop oats into my saucepan for further cooking.
Sometimes I **** the trigger and put it in my mouth and perform ******* on it
I want to swallow a gun's load because I'm
gay enough to die

I write for the likes
Just being honest. I'm a lab rat suckling on the nectar from tubes. Acknowledge me
I have no life, the bean pellets taste like corn and the frothy soup has been digested along with the ham.

Sitting through 6 hours of pawn stores I have found
God
In a motor home

It's 4:10  and the crack heads are awaking.
The streetcar rolls down the street and slithers in rust,
The ragged gypsy prepares her pajamas, the innocent nun
folds her silk white underwear and stares at the morning sun,
The alcoholic collapses in the dirt,
The satanist cries with a teddy bear, the transgender watches SpongeBob,
The child plays with grass,
The ****** eats stilts,
The dog dances in carpet,
The god praises
Jehovah
All lights illuminate,
And the crowds are transfixed. It's a communion
Of liars and all will be hungry
What a shame,       What a
waste
At least we have prayer

Your society is built
on exploitation and slavery;
Innumerable men and women and children wasted for the sake of cheap comfort and fake technological idols.
You skirt past the inhumanity and treachery simply because you are too tired to protest, and when you do, you're ridiculed by the lost masses anyhow;
Your own family turns against you as you vocalize what is plainly obvious as to make the sane insane,
And the mass murderer sympathetic.
It's a sick world,
  But as long as you cultivate alliances and speak the begotten truth, some day we may be free from its shackles and
Usury
But you can't be complacent
or else you're
Complicit

got these new tattoos on me.

they just sit there, and it's just pigment that sits dead beneath the skin-
means nothing,

and to think some people build their whole lives around them,
whole personalities
around a ******* tiger on their calf
or bird on their neck.

all they have to offer.

i hope mine get ugly and old-- just further proof I needed nothing to prop me up.

I only ever got ahead because of me.

I want to **** myself,

but Im so tired of talking about it. lights out,
and nothing more.

solid glass,

and bleeding into a sense,
with my brains smashed.
I ******* HATE LIFE.

why can't I have more.

I cry every night,

I try to be strong,
I try to be the 'hard guy'.

I can beat any ******, but I'm tired. I want to die,
I want to lie down in dirt
and breathe nothing.

you've hurt me,

and I've hurt myself. you've told me to hurt myself and so I have.

I have no more dreams, I sleep until 5
,

I work until I die,

I make money just to die,

I live just to die,

I sit down
and **** a girl and **** myself afterwards.
I love no one,

not even myself.   I want to drawn, and the last 30 people that want me to go,

I've already left.


walking on the pavement on the hill, in the sunset I see 30 high rises,

I see a cathredal and parted clouds, the birds speak my name,

I jump and free the god that haunts me.

the god that haunts me,

and I no longer cry. I am
free ,        free,         free , free from the strange sorrow and strange


confusion

The reality is we'll all die alone
I'd thought maybe you'd be there
to guide me
through the next realm.
but the reality is
I'll be there alone.

in the fabric of time and space, we are one,
but
  here we're on our own

I was watching you there standing with the witches in your head
You were not smiling
In fact you were dead

And there was a blank canvas
With god on the side
It said "who here among us, has any more
Pride?"

So I stole it and went feral
And I tore it with my tongue
Like a wounded mother
Cradling her young

There were whispers in the footsteps,
A shadow on at night,
You didn't know that, you were just another light

So the showmen all grew angry, and the clown was ignored, all the people stared at him while he sat there bored

A channel was not open, and there were 50 singing bells
One For each orphan and
Another for your health

Now no one was asking why the dancers wouldnt cry,
So they all left to chase another lie

I'm gonna take a screwdriver
and jam it into her eye socket
and then
take pliers
and twist her tongue
until it's unhinged from the jaw

I'll then pour acid down her throat
and **** her ***
while she squeels in agony

then I'll
make some pancakes
for my doggo
Jim Jim
and he can eat the leftovers

then I'll do it again maybe
and then some day I can smile with Jehovah

Everyone looks the same afraid of judgement, afraid of criticism.
The same tattoos and placement and the same piercings and the same haircut and manner of speech and musical taste and the same sense of outrage and political persuasion, whether left, right or moderate. But they may as well be interchangeable when it concerns ad revenue; there's something they can sell you.
Just tired of being a part of this microcosm of bugs. I don't relate to you and likely hate you,
I want to be left alone but I also want to be understood,  somewhat

88

I have obvious brain damage.
my perception is distorted
My fingers look foreign. The words come out weird. My internal monologue is stifled.
But I persist.
What's normal to you
Is abnormal to the next guy.
I'll still write a masterpiece with this broken brain;
I'll still see the world with murky eyes.
I've lived much longer than expected.
Everyday is a bonus.
Every new poem, every new song, every new
creation is a miracle.
an act of defiance
I'm glad I've left something - and I'm stronger than I thought

brain of mush
     scrambled words and half formulated thoughts, uninspired,   like factory work

brain of mush, of
pudding, cold soup. I ride along the road, so many thoughts and half heartless. I'll leave you because I hurt myself.
You knew this,  you were comfort I didn't deserve.
So I throw it away.
I'm dumb. Brain of mush, soul already crushed. I'll miss your eyes though,  beautiful girl,  and your sweetness as I make my place somewhere far, and lost in the pages,  where no one bothers to read  

Synthetic lawn
radioactive pine
With a retractable garden hose
& A 1 car garage
Offset
With pearly laminate
and a bare wooden gate

The doorbell is now
A zoom monitor
& The dog
Is in its plastic hut in the corridor
While
The child in the upper window
plays Minecraft
Alone with the halls silent with decadent dust

They turned my childhood home into a mausaleum,
But the truth is, it was no better then.
We were still suffocating in the immense nothing