It's always in those moments of afterglows fade it all turn's to ****.
When silence is cut by razors of thought.
And what just happened finds way to guilt of another's regret.

Maybe we should find a place to go but maybe we should just take it for what it never was.
Broken dreams were built upon good intentions and I for one have to many
burnt bridges to cross this rivers distraction my dear.

I can't say I will share in nothing more than a action .
It's just not something I can do .

She listens in pain yet knows truth's seem less intrusive under passions spent.
There's no happy ending just a moments release.

I never promise what I can't even believe in myself.
I know emptiness  but sometimes the drunken bliss finds me weak.
Maybe tomorrow will change a hardened heart.  

Good thing I wont be here to entertain it's well intended lies.

The aftermath of a supposed good time remain untouched.
Every ****** up flaw for none to cherish and all to judge.
It was a storm of my life one still for which I bare the scars.

You destroyed my existence to show me a life I now cannot from which   fathom a departure.
Yet through addictions we clung to reality as we filtered are own ******* without a care.
Track marks and worn makeup sweetheart the road  still cant realize tomorrows embrace.

I  see the places now with trained eyes the places we died in self to form a bound of hellish demise.
Sick in love as tortured in soul.
Can I ever clean your burden for which none may ever allow me to forget.

Such passion in that highest of lows we were the nights children now simply we are the
sunrise of a far off delusion.

I saw your depth turn to emptiness as the black hole logic did swallow us all.

It was hell knowing but far worse trying to remain a secret of no true surprise.

I remember when last we sat cold from the night but warm from the fix.
It was the darkest hours.

And forever you a favorite  blemish of mine.

now I exist the outcast welcomed inside.
A excitable addict amongst the upper class swine.

There's no  difference in the rats simply a title and a ******* ego to try to tell yourself
you made it out alive.

Never believe the ******* they tell you.
My scars now faded hidden from view.
Still traces remain  to remind me there's no difference between me and you.

It always cold even in my vices warmth.

I watched the television for lack of a hot girl bent over the pool table.
Tonight had been a dead night and I was simply counting the hours till I would
pass the **** out and start it all over again.

I herd one of the overrated windbags on the screen  say.
Tonight were here for the art and to honor the artist.
Yet in the sea of  overdressed teenagers I saw no art just some corporate nimrods  who were selling songs like a ****** sold her *** out on the street.

The glitz the glamour wasn't to honor it was a marketing tool  for record labels to push there new product.
And like any good **** they had brought a slew of there finest ****** on display for the wolves.

It was a true gathering of the young and mindless.
While all your favorite overplayed annoying as **** ****** and ******* were there all
acting as if they were having a blast and lip syncing to all there soon to be forgotten pop
**** hits.

It was like being mind ***** by a ***** wonka .

And the first award goes to some stupid rehab bound **** who's currant record I really want two of.
One to **** on and one to cover it up with.

And just when it can get no worse we have to see washed up boy bands drag there over weight *****  upon the stage to try to get one last fix before they drop dead well we can always hope.

Yes for a channel that calls it's self music television yet plays no actual music why should have I expected any less.

Art isn't cooked up in some factory cranking out radio friendly bubble gum anthems
for little girls to scream to and perverts to have wet dreams to.

True art  doesn't wear a G string .
Just usually hot chicks or some fat chicks but that's not usually a G string it's just there underwear  has crawled up there *** dam optical illusions.

What **** are you watching!?
The old regular asked me as he pulled himself from his semi coma of watered down drinks
and half spent cigarettes.

You know there amigo sometimes even I don't know what to call it myself.

Yeah well if your not to busy looking at ******* give me another.

I flipped the idiot box off and gave the old ******* another round.
So grandpa I asked in my oh so charming  and down right annoying tone.
What do you thinks the problem with music today?

Well for one ******* your supposed to listen to music not watch it!
That and I miss the stuff the kids nowadays never hear.
Yeah there father time what's that my friend.

You know that **** called actual music.

Yes this relic of the past had a great point there was no depth in a child's swimming pool  
and as me and my lone customer counted the hours till this night's chapter of a close
slowly approached  we spoke of the classics  and did what any to fellow adults would do.

Turned the jukebox up and put the TV on mute.
cause art may not wear a G string but some really hot ***** do.
And no matter a mans age even Picasso could admire a fine ***.

Cheers kids.

Gonzo.

They always say write what you know but no reader would ever care to travel the roads I know so well.
The unwanted gather in vast groups to isolate.
My thirty days notice is now .

Insanity you claim maybe in this venture I know my ends pleasure to resist I know none better to reside just let me burn out with all the rest.

In code I speak if only you cared to decipher maybe I would give a **** to explain my dear.

It's been a good run.

We sat on the bulked viewing the sounds no words need be shared for sometimes in silence we say far more.
The sunset was upon us and the ***** was kicking in to that perfect sense of a warm buzz and the waters draw poetic in the truest sence .

There were shared stories with added lies simply a understanding of a crossroads part.
The road had ran it's course now the chapter was done and so my own would continue.

Were the  ******* headed now man.
My friend asked in a mild laugh curious yet knowing no matter the direction we
had different stories to write.

I have know clue think I'll just chase the sunset till the highways lends me her thoughts once again.

My friend simply shook his head .
Sometime I really can't begin to fathom what goes on in that head of yours bud.

Hell sometimes I wonder myself I had to think.

It's always on these rides when the air is one with the nights empty promise
I truly grasp the thoughts and understand my roads always best traveled alone.

The drug's  the ***** simply a mask for others to understand my less than
understandable  actions there always has to be something in which to place the blame now doesn't there?

I try not to question and as the road's endless roll drew me yet again I cared less
for the logic and simply gave in to the need to know what lay over the next hill.
I'd far rather die with my boots on than waste away in regret.

Live while you can for times a commodity  none can afford to waste my friends.

And as I hit the on ramp bound for nowhere and eager to see it all.
I had to think to the moments shared for they were far more meaningful to friends than I.

Sometimes a lone wolfs howl isn't for emptiness of the fear of isolation.
It's the understanding of one's self that truly drives the one's who chase the highways line.

I viewed the sunset a chapters close for the moment and a   endless thirst of highways vice
I so desired eternal.
She's a cruel mistress to some but on this nights ride her embrace is all I ever did need
for now.

Stay Crazy

Gonzo

**** the weather !
It always seemed when you planned ****.
Things always turned to ****.

I had been fed the **** up far to long.
No I was more like hand me a gun and get the **** out of my way.
the ride had been the boiling point  the conversations were as mundane as the Oklahoma  
landscape.

It's sad when you see a tree and you want to get out the car and kiss the ground.
I had to distance myself and the nearest bar called me like a ship to shore .
And maybe after a few stiff drinks I could somehow convince myself the trip was worth the burden of putting up  with half the ******  I listened to out here.

The show was going to be hell dealing with some lame *** ******* with there family friendly *******.
Hopefully my set would be over fast.

Get up there talk to the deadlights crowd and get the hell off that stage before my drink needed refilling.

Hey so what's your deal?
The strange looking guy had asked me on the way up.
Just prefer silence to a ******* chatter I guess.

Whatever man.

He didn't seem to enjoy my reply and his leaving me alone for the rest of the trip was a pleasant reward  indeed.
Little early don't you think?

Another had asked as I broke out my flask and mixed the first of my drinks I like to think as
******* tolerance serum.
Well honestly being it's already ten in the morning I'm actually running late.

**** he's going to be wasted by the time we get there how ******* unprofessional.
I had met far to many of these self righteous ****** on many trips across the states and they all were the same.
To busy watching other's to even realize they had no place being in the company
of actual men  they were more like a annoying ex who nagged the **** out of you till you either said  shut the **** up *****!

Or just walked away silent as she rattled on a mental tornado in a self absorbed existence.

I rarely gave people like this my time let alone my thoughts.
For empty minded ******* could look to other halfwits to fill there heads.
me I had a hard enough time believing my own ******* to care about anyone else's.

It was a hour till my set   and as I knocked back a  luke warm beer in a first class *******
I had to think man I really should have chosen a less interesting career path.

But hell there were like almost ten people in dire need of some saving from the clutches
of candy *** humor and Lord help them if a improve group was around.

I staggered from my stool towards the door as the barkeep said.
Hey buddy need me to call you a cab to get home.
Home hell amigo I'm getting ready to clock in to work.

Maybe I could have chosen a more easy path.
But the drinks seem awful watered down driving a school bus.

Besides who would save the bored few from the family friendly
joke tellers of this world.

Till next time.

Stay crazy.

It's a feeling passed down from generation to generation.
That old poetic sense of the sea and the men doomed to fall to her powers.
I see it's signs upon the sky but make no attempt to retreat .

A storm like no other is bound to hit and in it's approach I only pour another and wait for it's wrath.
Doomed souls often laugh at there demise yet I prefer a smirk  and dead silence.
I cant stop it and honestly I've grown to tired to run.

Why avoid the jaws of the tiger when you can embrace the wings of a dragon?
And that vice I have chased far to long.
Collapsed veins and cold showers shock no longer fix the solution so why not
just say **** it all instead?

Your no longer the shark amongst the fish my friend your more the forgotten fool
bound for the depths.
Have I lost it now gone to far that the surface is but a dream I've lost in nightmare's
far to long to recall.

Don't look for warning signs simply look my way and understand.  

There's a limit one can only push so far .
I view the storm upon the horizon  yet I will no longer run.

For one last stand is not in my cards.
But I'm dam sure up for one last round.