The corner is always the place.
It  takes it's toll.
Making harsh lines apon even the
most fresh face.

And the night drags like a slow  unending dream.
So jaded have i become from all
things obscene.

And no other feel anyone can ever understand.
Strangers eternal cast togather.
The nights and it's demons  at  my command.

He's a vessel that can only cause pain.
gone in a flash.
Yet apon that pillow the confession does remain.

Steps away from a ending written
in words cast out of spite.
We haunt the night  underneath the street light.

Summers approach a farwell kiss.
Bourban erased the reason and somehow im left with is nothing but this.
We danced the night gave no thought to the day.
Times washed us clean now all has but drifted away.

Trapt emotions a well went dry.
Magic in moments the time mispent.
A well placed thought is but a fermented lie.

You view in but seldom see the truth behind this stage.
Paths crossed now directions needed.
A vintage year and a tender age.

It's burn a thirst to quench ive now lost track.
Ive drown for to long ive no reason to ever look back.

It was years ago , A fellow writer who felt it was there duty in life to judge others wrote me.

Dear John

I have read a few of your works and believe someone needs to tell you to save you the embarrassment .

Your antics are not talent your
words are muddled at best .
And your gutter sense of humor is childish and truly a embarrassment to us serious writers.

You should probably seek out a workshop or look to your fellow writers for some tips or maybe just stop writing altogether .

I read the message and laughed .
I have over thirty works in publication and far more on the way .

Opinions are like *******.

And to that writer I shall leave unnamed .

Who's words fall flat on the sidewalk like a **** from a mongrel dogs ***.

Hope your doing well.
I never listened then and I **** sure am not listening now.

When you hand out advice you better make **** sure your standing on solid ground before you cast a opinion

Keep writing is all I can tell you .

Through the rejections and the people that tell you to give up .

You will pass them all by eventually.

******* are not a dying breed.

Cheers

Gonz

I stopped somewhere along the way .
It was a blank place with even more blank faces .
They seemed just as detached as myself.

There is a true beauty of being alone .
I haven't seen a familiar face in weeks .
But then again I haven't had the headache of having to pretend
I care either .

I thought about when I left.
There was comfort in the routine.
Knowing the misery would great me every day .
Knowing the name of every ******* ******* who drove me nuts enough to leave in the first place.

As I waited to pay for gas the ***** behind the counter looked at me as though I was some sort of oddity .
Two six packs in hand I asked for a pack of Marlboro reds as well.
He looked at the clock .

Kind of early to be hitting sauce huh pal.
He asked me as he put the pack of cigarettes on the counter and rang the rest of my crap up.

His name tag read Mark.
I was just passing through but at least I had met one of the Kentucky chapter of ******* .

Well never to early to start a bad habit my friend I said as I paid the gas station Gestapo  a fifty.

He held it to the light .
Just pressed it today bud I said.
Somebody has been passing fake bills around the area he replied .
Well when I run into somebody I will let him know your on the job .

You aren't from around here huh mister ?

He placed my change on the counter .
I didn't say **** I just walked out with my change and two semi warm six packs in hand .

I herd him say you have a nice day as I was heading out the door.

It was funny how people viewed others as if there life were some great ******* contest.
They thought there life's were good as long as there was someone else
to look down on.

Yeah I may be a **** up but least I'm not like that drunken loser they would say.
I cracked a beer aimed the car for interstate and was headed anywhere but here .

Yes I lived in a ******* but least my ******* had cold beer .

We cast aside what gathers in are way.
People consuming souls speaking hollow truths to half empty minds .
The best is left for last  and me I'm simply somewhere in between.

Madmen preach as the ignorant run the show .
I can tend the fire but no longer can I sit and hold your hand.
The truths a harsh existence I thrive best in solitude than sharing my comforts in a sea of people just as ****** up as myself.

We cannot stand together when we  all think apart.
The lies have turned are minds inward left are eyes jaded to see the threat that exists .

No virtual environment will plague my existence .
As the road ahead forks and we were long since parted so lets not pretend we care for it was in the cards all along.

A walk through the cemetery  as cold winds approach .
We were never here to begin with and your dreams a illusion of the
downside of a bad trip to begin with.

**** what they will think!
For shackles of any kind are for the weak .
And my wounds will bleed till they heal or simply keep
me company till I die .

I shut the door long before you said another word .
This was are goodbye .

I always see them in dark shadows and whispers of uneven conversation I stand

steady as always.

Unsteady hand may you bare one last confession do you care to reflect the image we no longer recall.

Raindrops apon empty streets bare a haunting tone ive grown numb from such feel and loss.



You ask to see my soul but would you stay for just a little while befor?

Im ash of flames once bright embers are all that remain.

lovers are markers ive long since seen fade in a perfect sunsets pain please will you stay to

care for the child in the clown and the old fools emptyness will wash that pain as storm's

clear my past to heal my pressent if you will.





They never see i am but trash in the gutter a stain soon to be forgotten from thought.

We may embrace for a second please dont ask if im okay.

Sometimes stars no longer shine but skies seldom fall.



Winters of  turmoil echo in empty chambers often called thought.

And the burbon my cast to sheild a wound I refuse to heal.

Fools often regress so as you pass i understand no wave just a look through ive grown to except.



Oceans apart will you stay if not for one last drink asked as a child begs a parent just till

Im asleep.

I see them in shadows faces once known to many and cherished by me .

Old ghosts surround and as I prolong i understand i must join them

even the blind can see.



And as to my back it paints a farwell to a never to be filled door.

Tommorow they come to chase the past for even i must one day give up my seat.



To fast ive lived now slow must I die.

Faded watercolors still cast images  that caress the heart of another who will

understand the yerning to stay.



Stars under darkest night  understand one less burns .

We are but canvas so may mine be relived by fires glimmer of soon faded light

To it they all fall.
Nameless faces to the game.
Boroken in shame into empty spaces they do crawl.

One has to win for the other to lose.
The road takes many turns.
But we all meet defeat no matter which you choose.

Busted knuckles burnt bridges leaving
a callus heart sore.
Life appears in many forms from the floor.

Ive tasted bitter endings claimed
in regret.
Nights the soul does drift.
To a place I yern to forget.

Its a dream we no longer recall.
So distant to us now.
We question did we ever want it at all.

i'll gather my fragments oh a jaded heart
as I act blind while you head out the door.
Then colapse and take it one more time
from the floor.  

P.S.  Hey got Twitter   JohnRobbins  its just like stalking
Ineed followers okay that sounds weird haha.

It started so diffrent from what it is now.
A small group of outcasts and people who had become fed up with the ******* of other sites.
We started strangers we became a sort of ****** up family.

For me I found my true voice so in that respect im greatful.
I made people laugh got in plenty of trouble but altogather I loved my time here.
this place was my exit and my home from the **** life handed me it was something you cant really
explain.

But it was most of all fun it was a close group that was very loyal.
Something like that is rare and to a degree ive always wondered when people love something
as is why change it?

To suit a small group of people seems to me like a total disregard to the one's who make your site great.
Cause when it comes down to it ,
Its the people that make the site not the site itself.

But sometimes people are blind to all but themselves it's a sad case either way.
I want to thank the creators of this place for the fun I had  it was really something special.
But without the soul of what made things whole you just have a empty shell.

The site was the vessel and we were the gears.
Togather it runs apart it's just a space maybe others will make it whole again.
But one things for sure it'll never be the same  for either side.

Either way good luck to all and goodbye.

Stay Crazy Forever Gonzo

We can have many but none
will ever erase that first.
Barbwire confessions

In a dessert in a moment of passion she did quench
my thirst.
And so  with any plessure must come the pain.
A broken heart spreads like a infection.
Simple memories washed clean by the summers rain.

I wonder only night and day.
Pretend to think beyond a moments reflection.
But still my heart does betray.

As teens stumble through awkward moments
yerning  for that unspoken feeling with a intense burst
they fall in and out of that trademark emotion.
Forgetting the last only to recall that first.

Im  speaking  about more than action.
Seldom do we admit the innocence.
Hide the truth and flaunt satisfaction.

Tainted is the blood in the kiss.
Time holds its portrait.
Dark was that night but never dark as this.

I confess i loved you  eternal.
As i treated you the worst.
forever in confines  sweet and bitter.
Burried in emotions in honor of that first.

And in between the changes she moved a ghost to only haunt my wants .
To deny the needs and linger in such a tormented pleasure the poison leaves only the lust.

In between rounds the music's backdrop faded as thought's of sharks and ****** of all sort simply lingered for the **** and the prey was clear.
She held the keys and I simply admired the view in between drinks .

A good dancer moves with the music and a true one owns the moment and makes you forget all the rest.
She could pop the clutch without ever shifting the gears the nights tension was electric and the passion was as real as the false splendor of the buzz.

Nights are a mystery and **** if her page wasn't worth reading and if not it didn't matter when the mind escapes the wolves .

Never to consider the want **** the politics!
The race was far better than its finish and the night played far better in my favor standing alone.

In those moments we share and between the emptiness we try in vain to fill the scene of perfection and the silence a pleasure in the hours .
Tonight I viewed the devils outline.
She was a picture the fragment of a fix and the night a backdrop. Summer wasn't all that kept the night hot .

As night was chased to light .
Sometimes its best to never show your cards .

As tomorrow was never my destiny but tonight was are pleasure.

The page tattered has seen its share and the rest is best left a mystery.

It was a hell of a view .

Breakup's and breakdown's were collected by it's fire.
Old glory and wished apon lies we spoke in that chidish
feeling I'll fondly forever recall.

The scenery changed as the friends like actors in a play.
I bottle up my emotions and keep then in drunken bliss to forever stay.
In a trance brothers shared the words without
a single one spoken between them.

The emotions flowed with the drinks stories were spoken
only to die with the mornings light.
Thoose who fell we spoke of like ghosts never to return.
Ships apon the water we dare not view to long.

Are passion and wants her lips that feeling we
knew had long since died.
Tears hidden within every drop.

Poured courage made bounds of emotions blood.
Reflecting in dim lit thought of bright passions past.
But like a once full bottle loves and cold nights never last.

We understand the roads taken brothers often do.
The old preach from it's fire.
The youth roll there eyes of what they never knew.

Passed around the bottles passion takes a journey into emptyness
Speaking of long nights women who've long since gone.
We laugh in are failures drunk with the
memories shared.
We all slowley fade.

It's always in winter im left facing the truth's of my past.
The bar my home the whiskey a old friend  who still
remembers enough to forget.

Alone with thoose faces i care to share nothing with I can just exist none care  or worry the Christmas lights bring a comic tragedy to my blured vision of what never can be.

Often it's found me here but tonight i no longer care.
for how many times can the heart bleed?
Till its but a scar of memory.

Answers are for the dreamers who belive there's right to
change the wrong.
A splendid place of ******* that omly holds truth at the bottom of my glass  last call lingers like a lovers goodbye.

My time long since past im turning to nothing only to except my
failures and curse the road that brought me to such a stage of misery
and who gives a ****.

The fools I pitty yet hope they find it although I know it's end.
Her word's hollow as my soul.
Pouring fire to replace passion.
Every fighter knows when it's gone.

But in dim lit smoke cast rooms I find my home.
And haunt this space asking nothing  just
to fade in thought.

Some need pain to exist other need the challenge to drive.
Every drink poured  burns a constant reminder im still alive.
After ive left into the nights air im cast alone.
wandering in a blurred haze to anywhere will I ever truely belong?

There was no casket to be set into the earth.
Only memories were to be  burried washed clean
by the bottles embrace.

Strangers  do we part a vist to a familar cold place
by the oceans shore.
Words spoken never hurt when you  understand
human nature.

The dark inwhich  I only know.
A dark river flowing unto the sea.
Its broken current flow's with no true direction.

As children we start fresh only to loose the spark.
Dancing under a shroud of tenderness  apon lifes
harsh stage.

Bitter souls reflect  anger lost only tears of  regret.
Me i just cast demons down   in some  twisted hope
I just might forget.

Sometimes you gotta realize when you crash through that glass
celling  you only got to look forward to the floor.
The bottle now empty I cast into  the dark waters
eternal bed.
Along  with a memory  I'll pretend to erase.

Distanse is only a thought away.
The road echos  my lifes song.
Underground burried  so deadly the truth
just as sweet as the lie.

Barbwire and daydreams  plague my soul.
Like the bottle that sit's within the depths
of a water cast tomb.

I know strangers  as friends.
Night as backdrop.
Farewell  seems  fitting as hello.
When the river has run dry    
To whom will you go?

In shadows we speak lies all too soon forgotten.
Tragic flaws of a twisted gear the lost ending, old friend why do you appear so strange?

In the shadows I understand what the light could never allow us to view.
The ever self indulged ****** the broker down Wall Street.
Are they not but the same addicts of a different fix.

The street understands what the common man can never voice, the abstract ending is but a smokescreen of distraction I have little time for ******* but I have all the time for you.

I see from ship to shore the ever-changing tide.
I can't give you advice for I can't even help myself, hold the answers so better yet you may understand the questions my friends.

In the shadows we hide speaking our riddles scribbling down lines.
Only to be left unheard cast aside in dark corners I know this company well.

Old friend why must you be so strange?
Once the poet now the mute your words still hold very much weight in empty lines and past thoughts the memories linger still.

In the shadows they did exist were still I remain.

He was as lonesome as a cemetery.
And far more empty than any barren field.

In your time nobody will recognize your genius till its flame has long since been extinguished.

Nobody sought out to be a legend they simply put one foot in front of the other in hopes just to get through as ****** as me or you.

He never knew exceptance and most thought him a outcast.
That ******* in the mirror was a stranger to even I.

I am empty as the page that sits befor the flustrated poet.
Pain trapped in heart without words to put to pen.
Shaking cold knowing full well my time has passed as swiftly
as train through a midnight so very clear.

The road behind me I can longer recall.
Faces and places shallow as a drying river bed.
Life has taught me to put up wall.

Stolen moments from a welcome barstool.
One of many jesters in this fools
kingdom I do rule.

The clock of my life grows closer
to closing time.

When walk out that door it's left to others to recall.
reflect in the thoose smokey dark corners.
How many of you ever did know me at all.

Thinking of times never had.
Missing friendships that never were.
To fail means at least you did try.
The road never ends so why must I?

The magic doesn't exist between the sheets or is herd in the sounds of a drunken night whatever it was it has surely died.
Long since been taken away with the tide and I like so many others simply pick the bones of the greats clean.

In hopes to capture the essence I simply repackage the old lines as something new burning the candle at both ends existing a reject of today  and a connection of what never was .

I am the *** in the street.
The fool in the cell drunk out his mind yearning only to howl at the moon to hear the sounds of my own madness .

I'm the burnout ,I'm the drunk who is all to happy to be left alone I need no shelter the storm is a friendly reminder .
The chaos lets me know I'm alive .

The burn kicks me in the *** and pushes me to another high I never needed the scene for I find company a burden and my own demons guide me for better than any you may know .

The candles flame cast shadows but never blinds the few who understand the battle for what it is.

The junks all the same just new names and the same train wreck.
The arrogance of youth cant touch the heat of the bitter old fool.
The ice in the glass and one last call to remind me it's fade until the next.

I may me be a throw back to another time .
But a slurred voices words still my own hold there weight .
Trends and tricks styles suited to please are best left to the clowns who seek acceptance from the page .

Sometimes you just have to stagger a bit to know your alive.

Dont wait tommorow for what can be said today.
Ripples in the water.
Cast from stone so easily fade away.

The difference in a day plays apon your face.
Regret tangles the most simple questions.
All to often we mask the stubborn actions
and pass them off as fate.

How could I ever let you slip away.
Burns a heart only to freeze over.
The road is never a clear direction.
A cold night a lovers embrace like a
blanket gives a false a sense of protection.

Now I hold a memeory not a friend.
We cant mask the distance.
So how can we continue to pretend.

Old love letters a window to a moment in time.
Tears flow  freely  in the confines of my emptyness.
In the illusion when I knew you as mine.

Sweet kisses are wasted apon the bitter soul.
Times fragments  splintter to all but
vanish from sight.
It's a struggle to live in the moment when
you cant even get ast a single night.

Tommorow I wont let it repeat today.
No longer will I settle to simply exist.
Watching lines once strong as they fade away.

Sometimes the best canvas should stay blank.
Colored by hopes not strokes of pain.
More words are needed to exist with
my deepest emotions in silent reframe.

She always loved the ocean .
And often she drug him along although he hated the the sand .

Frank was never much of a beach person but it was beautiful with her always .

"Why won't you marry me "?

She asked as they sat together upon the shore.

"Come on Beth didn't you get enough ******* form your last marriage "?

"He was a ******* but your the one I was supposed to marry I made a mistake ".

"So now your looking to make another "

Frank replied laughing .

Beth was not amused .

She was always in love with him and Frank knew full well he was not with her .

She was fun in small doses .
She was great in bed but eventually you had to be able to communicate .

Beth was the sort that never stopped talking and seldom had a **** thing to truly say.

Susan always plagued his thoughts .

Because she although a ***** was the one he could not forget.

There was something in the  silence  they shared .
She was gone and so was it .

And now he simply drank to forget and wrote **** to fill the space and grab publication.

"You know I love you so what's the deal dude"?

" Look sweetheart it's never going to happen so maybe its best we not continue to do this anymore ".

And with that it was over .

Beth cursed him out and stomped off .

He watched her as she vanished over the dunes and faded from his life .

She would be far from the last to say goodbye .

He grabbed the last beer from the sixpack.

Listened to the waves crash into the shore .

It was empty peaceful and perfect in everyway.


Then Frank thought to himself .
He hadn't taken his car .

And he had left his phone on the dash of Beth's.

As he walked over the dunes he viewed the parking lot and as he figured Beth was nowhere to be found .

He viewed the little shops all were closed except for a little bar called the Riptide .

He laughed to himself .

For he may be stranded but least he was far from alone .

Any port in a storm beats standing outside in the rain .

The place was packed but it served cocktails .
Least he wouldn't die from lack of thirst .

And maybe a beachcombers existence would suit him for awhile .

Beth would find another much like Frank would always land on his often unbalanced and drunken feet  .

He had a lot of practice .
The night had only just begun.

Spent in New Orleans the bourbon kissed the streets only to find me alone again.

The night was wild and all those I need not mention to those whom truly understand.

We had miles ahead No rest in sight There comes a point being on empty seems like are full on a spring afternoon.

And us alone with are vices kept silent as the effects took there toll and are past memories flooded are thoughts.

Cigarettes and coffee one night stands and other vices stained are existence as the road somehow kept it all clean.

In moments of decay and Saturday night excursions broke are wallets and fueled are thirst.

There were miles ahead so I simply laid my head against the window And blocked it all out for the time being.

Another stop of and a month till I saw that place they tell me is home .
Empty as we run till hell kicks us back.

See you soon postcards and nonexistent phone calls
I'm never here sweetheart and always around .

Don't be sad I can't recognize myself
anymore either.

The streets frozen in temperature my soul soaked in bourbon as  I drift a drunk looking simply to get home and crash out simply to do
it all over again.

The music is the silence only footsteps keep me company and no other need be my shadow .

Spirts of fire are often dulled together sweetheart I will be just fine I said in my exit from the bar .


The streetlights and that Christmas tinged on full  display I drift past stores closed as vacant in windows view as my thoughts as the bums

try not freeze upon the benches I know this existence in sadness and think **** thank to hell it's not me.

Simply move on two ghost's haunted the same and no need to explain the rest,


It's here I am home in these empty streets here I grasp it all .

Maybe it's a drunkards melancholy thought a romancing of the page to fulfill the emptiness in me .


I know this night like any other sometimes when the mix of ***** and ******* hits me just right

I truly understand the man that once was me .


Goodnight my friends.

Sometimes the ride is all that matters no direction has suited me most my life.
I listen to the music of the night and smelt the ocean as I tasted the salty winds embrace.

I'd come to an understanding of emptiness was far better than the false comfort of another's secrets  were better off left buried with only one    lost soul  serving as the map.

I sat at the bar for a while not speaking to others as I found it far more comforting to be lost within my own lies and illusions insanity makes for good company.
Far better than the ******* of some ego driven windbag.

We were always happy in the moment but it was alone that let the demons wreak havoc upon our memories, why couldn't I ever just get over ******* and leave the past a corpse to rot within the ground?

In depths of your own thoughts you will find the truths that are not mired by your own lies.
A man's ego is but a wildfire soon to be out-of-control and so easily snuffed out by another's manipulation.

I couldn't give the answers when asked questions anymore, **** if I cared to answer I just struggled to exist let alone fix others.
And my vices were given the excuse they so desired.


Why can't we just be like this she asked?
Because moments my dear are simply that.
And time is a ******* of a friend who exist only to bitter you and where down your soul like the sun does to the old man's skin turning fresh intentions to worn-out leather hide.

Maybe I'm a ******* maybe you're just a ***** maybe were all flawed and I was simply looking for someone more ****** up than ourselves.
Stroke our own ego and say well at least I'm not that ******* bad.

I never care for the destination I simply exist for the trip.
Maybe I'm running from something maybe I'm just happy to escape, maybe I'm just a fool to life but I've seen enough to know the blindness of passion and the deceit of a well intending heart.

We drove from miles happy to exist and content not to speak.
Sometimes the silence says it all my friends.

I had received dozens of rejection letters most I can imagine the reactions these ******* yuppie ******* reading were thinking while saying to themselves .
Jesus ******* Christ I'm glad this guy doesn't live near by.

They hated writers yet they made there living off them .
Much like teachers except with a far better income and much better high dollar vices .

I worked my *** off they sat on there's and decided what was in .
I still read them trying to maintain my buzz and not slip into a coma
from the ******* they deemed worthy.

I was on my second drink when the I read the words yet still like seeing a car accident in front of your very own eyes I could not believe what the **** I was reading .

It wasn't so much the article it was who was in it.
I had been writing long enough to learn one thing try your best to avoid
other so called writers .

And there he was  quoted with a fake ******* age was a ******* who was neither a writer or in my thoughts anything more than a pile of dog **** by the highway .

I don't need to mention his name hell being mentioned in any forum was more ego stroking than the ******* deserved.
But it was then I truly knew the New Yorker had went from high class rag to street level ***** selling her *** to anyone with the change .

Old ******* was there about twelve years younger and in his full out of his gourd glory.
I can imagine the interview one soulless **** stain talking to another .
Speaking on something he could not even do himself .
******* write!

I was a drunk a ******* who ran his mouth and dared anyone to try to shut it.
I was a lot of things but no matter how others viewed me I was always
a writer .

I lived it, Breathed it  paid my dues fifteen times over .
Yeah it bit my *** to see a overrated wind bag featured in a rag truly great writers had struggled  to be published in.

It showed you the great decline the social media madness great writing was no longer a requirement skill wasn't needed either .
It was all superficial ******* smoke and mirrors and a nice *** .

I took another drink picked up the revolver stuck it to my head
pulled the trigger .
Nothing this time!
Looks like id live another day.

I'd love to sit at table over a few drinks play a relaxing game of Russian roulette with the ******* I'm writing about.
I wonder would he speak so boldly in front of another man
or simply **** his pants and cry like a modern  overrated
so called artist.

Yeah I was passionate with my hate .
I was anything but a modern writer and anyone sitting across
from me better dam sure know I didn't play games .

Well least not any that were safe .

I stopped reading the article when a friend called .
Hey you read that article on you know who?
Yeah I replied just finished it.

What did you think?
Well least when you run out of toilet paper you got something to wide your *** with .

My friend laughed .
You know your not right they said still laughing.
Yeah I said looking at the gun still on the table.

You truly don't have a clue.

I been drinking since I was sixteen .
That was many a moon ago.
I been in the party life most all my life .

It was a natural environment I fit in like the ******* furniture .
I played the scene for all its worth found many a warm bed seldom was it my own.

Then for awhile I stepped away .
Never from the bottle just from the scene.

Many thought the edge was gone that the wolf settled down became some old dog sleeping upon the porch.

But anything planned is often foiled by life.
And now back to what will be my cemeteries  existence  I return.

Alone but then again a lone wolf isn't the a wolf if not alone.
The fangs still sharp with some fresh scars on display.

False happiness and full of **** .
It wasn't my choice to return but at the party till my death shall I stay.

We all find ourselves wherever the **** we least expected .
You can't plan life but you can catch a buzz somewhere in the ******* inbetween.

Cheers

Gonz

No drug on earth can match that which fuels the ego as fame.
As everyone wants to be someone and only some may be.
I spark my own urges and fueled my own flame far too long maybe this runs finally over, maybe I truly don't give a **** anymore to begin with.

As for the dues I've paid you
simply couldn't understand.
Broken body parts burnout relationships sleeping in the streets the backdrop was always there I need only to open my eyes to find a source of inspiration.

My footsteps cast as my shadow does loom I would pity those who try to follow but remorse never suited me very well.

And to grasp that faint chance.
I've just a moment and sacrificed many.
If you believe I am a parody and I'm to believe your one to.
Quicksand logic will always be a bitter egos demise, and I've long since passed the mark of any to sort of return to normal .

I played the stage as I played the audience fine-tuned my craft using it only as a weapon it soon became far more than I bargained for.
I'm tired, I am broken I'm all that which you probably believe and far worse.

It isn't for the lack of imagination it simply I could give a **** less.
Do not choose to be a chameleon to blend in simply to exist.
I stand out not to be fashionable but because it simply just who I am.

My road was carved through frustration and turmoil the homicidal chaos leaves little mystery care to challenge my point?
And though I certainly embrace my demise I certainly I'm not the fool who is imprisoned to a act.

We only know what others let us see, and the rest we simply fill in the blanks.

My dues have been paid in emptiness a skill forged in hell cast to leave the page to bleed.

The footsteps left behind are my own.
Make no mistake with anything in life somebody always has to get hurt.

I hung on her laughter my bad jokes kind of filled the void between us.
Like a fog of ciggertte smoke that cast its illusion over the room I sat as we spoke over the phone.

My drinks flowed and my words slurred .
She hung on the line.
The best kind always do.

It was the simple flirts that keep the soul young and the liver well its a sad customer to begin with on my side.

I imagined are time together in person.
And she shook her head , Wondering was there more beyond the train wreck of a person on the other end of the line.


I poured another .

"You should probably slow down don't you think?'

"Yeah probably but with company like your's sweetheart who would ever want the night to end".

She laughed .
"Your so full of **** ".

"Tell me something I don't know sweetheart".

Even when I was drunk I was a first class ******* artist.
And a grade a smart ***.

I kept her laughing and although she would't admit she was having fun.

She was tired though and me I  was a night owl besides I was never eager to face the silence of a long night ahead.

"I'm so tired lets go to bed"
She said half asleep not realizing the words she had spoken.

"Why darling I thought you'd never ask "

She busted up laughing .
"You know what I meant good Lord your just gonna have a heyday with that one aren't you"?

"Oh now sweetheart would I ever give you **** bout a simple slip like that"?

"You ****** I bet you write about me saying that you watch"

I pretended to be mildly insulted joking the whole time.

"Me exploit something said in the  privacy of are personal conversation darling"

"I'm shocked you would ever think I could sink so low ".

"Goodnight John".

She said said as she hung up the phone and the warmth I felt just turned a tad bit colder as I faced yet the rest of my night alone.


Be careful what you say to writers.
The red light in my minds always recording.

And this rose is for you my dear.

Sincerely your favorite fiend

John

I've seen it said before so many times yet like words spoken of a handed down nature the pompous always tend to ignore great truths of the past.
I've seen great writers turned absolute **** with the stroking of their own ego.

I'd seen critics forged their own wants in the weakness of others who listen to bull crap wanting simply to be accepted.
Some chase what they believe to be a set path, there is no roadmap to success simply an afterthought to the losers who chase dreams often not their own.

I never chased ****!
I was always me not some watered-down version of another character I thought I could be so that's what you assumed.
Well you can assume your *** right out the door and out of my ******* face!

I live with no purpose I simply exist I thrive in my own madness and care little for the opinions of others.
I never force the write I simply follow it to wherever it leads me a river has only one direction.

Never truly believe your own *******.
Never think you're better simply know who you are.
Don't toil over the works of others admire it for what it is but don't let it **** with your head.

I never became a writer I just always was it wasn't  the cool thing to be it's just ingrained in my DNA.
The drinking, the drugs, the fast life wasn't some stylized afterthought  to seem hip it's just who I am.

You see my friends anyone can write but few can truly connect.
The page knows me better than I know myself it is here I'm vulnerable, it is here I am real for this is my existence.

It is my passion.
It is my life and ultimately it will be my death.
There is no gimmick and I never cater to a critic for one pompous ***** opinion matters less to me than a man who sits beside me and shares a drink.

Honesty is a poison in a society loaded with *******!
Never fear rejection and always embrace defeat without thought of a backup plan.

My work is my soul dark as it may seem never hasn't been considered fake.
But then again what do I truly know?
For to many I'm just a joker the town drunkard who sees more through dark glasses than many see within the light of day.

Never believe your own ******* because the moment you start to is the moment you begin to decay.

Every line means something.
A highway marker to you a milestone to me.
All roads end as others go on and the rest simply forget.

Do not worry over the details sweetheart simply dance on in spite of the
confusion .
Never allow them in just allow them to take for a price we are all ******
in some sense .

I played my game now its time for my final rest.
You will understand the old dogs  logic when viewed from tired eyes as well.

Forget the truths as time allows us only to recall the good.
Memories are cliff notes to reality.
A song reheard through blind thought and all to soon deaf ears .

Don't cherish what never was simply know the lines and watch me die.
recall my story through stories told and the ******* I spew.

Chase the dragon to simply know the fire .
My words were better than my truths and we will simply leave it there .

The page is all that ever matters.

Our words were short as time is but a moment ever fleeting upon this plain of existence.

My memories of you are as cloudy as a puddle's gray sky's reflection of something I rather forget.

But my friend you once told me.

"Our disease does not hide, we simply choose to ignore it until it's far too late."

I didn't want to face the solution, as I spoke to you beyond ****** up.
Lost in a storm of ego and ignorance that I could control a ******* tornado by pretending I was ultimately in control.

"You know you can always call me John, just make sure it's when you are ready to admit it's beyond your control."

My old friend said to me and as I said my goodbyes I played it off.
Mocking his spiel and doing what I do best.

Play the role others believe to be the fractured individual that is someone over time I truly do not understand myself.

I could always called you and like anyone not wanting to face the cancer that is their truth I never did.

And on the day an old friend told me of your passing I was numb fighting withdrawals, my heart pounding like a wounded animal yearning for escape.

I thought of you, a man who had battled a stroke, cancer and the same addiction as I.

It was never that I didn't call because I did not respect you.

It is the exact opposite my friend.
I admired you as many will speak of your words.
But as we are eternally brothers of the page.

It is the compassion you showed me as a friend knowing me no more than a stranger from a website.

You eternally are that bear, as that animal often stands alone in its strength and understanding.

That pillar has been removed only from sight never from heart or the dungeons of a darkened soul such as mine.

Rest well my friend.

Sincerely from the pains of my eternal regrets.

In  eyes  overcast  with regret.
We battled many storms.
To many togather to ever forget.

Two ships passing silently without  wake.
Still water memories  flow  gentle  as a dream.
When we pass from every past love we take.

Fail we have  but still we did try.
Tears can only wash clean.
The bitterness of this goodbye.

After the glow
there is only a spark.
She knew another.
As strangers we view thoose flaws as new
lovers kindle passions fire in that same old park.

She said I can"t say the words underneath
the sunsets  fire lit sky.
As burried the past only to her.
For my heart can never forget this goodbye


Just a write i did off the top of my head sorry
for it's  lack of talent.
they cant all be diamonds.

Never act like your a writer .
Or say the things you believe others want to hear.
Art is in never being certain.
The page has no time for half *** lines .

Do not be what you think a writer is.
Writers are ego driven ******* to self absorbed to see anything in front of them.
And thats just there good quality's .


Don't pen it the way you believe that will please others take it down the road as far as it has to go .

Let it get messy let it be awkward.
If your thinking bout other people your ****** to begin with .

You the page the ******* work that is all that matters .
That is what makes you a writer .

Not people blowing smoke up your *** .
Not how many people read it.
Who publishes it and if you made a dime off it.

Make that page bleed .
And **** those who dont get it.
Lemmings have often had to be told whats in .

They think there hip they want to hang around those who have it in hopes they can maybe find it as well.

They are like cancer you listen long enough to there ******* and they poison the well of your imagination.

Never take advice from someone who can't do what you can.

The world is not a play.

Never act just be one with the page.

I never act.

My father worked the plant as
his father befor.
We worked until are hands bled and
are backs were sore.

History we made and many fine men spent there lives
in this very place.
Founded the union.
we are the backbone not a copperate
face.

Didnt bat a eye just said goodbye
catching the first outta town bus.
They saved there over payed *****
but what about us.

The working class people who gave there
sweat and tears.
A town inwhich the factory was built.
Old and young share bitter reflections over
stories passed down through the years.

More than jobs left with the closing
of the factorys doors.
Pain echos from broken souls.
it comes into are very essense seeps into the floors.

Years of memories gone without a
fuss.
They crunch numbers but were people.
You saved a billion but a whole town
ask's what about us?

I have existed a liar so pardon my bitter sweet intrusion this note of passing shall be a forward of my forgotten voice now a eco within a long since empty hall.

To lead takes no true direction just a gimmick and I have grown tired of the restraints that now scar my words.
They all want something far more than I will ever give.

May I shed light on my breakdown if you will reveal me your skeletons before you judge me for my own.
I hate the page for it is a twisted lover and cruel ***** when your in need.

Take comfort in the madness sundown will break us all to soon.
Time is a burden I have nothing more to prove yet everything to gain.
To toss aside the fruit others yearn to taste is the truest form of rebellion.
Or maybe just another fools act and I have know many in my time.

What started a hobby now is my vice poured regrets goes well with the taste of not giving a **** to begin with.
Curse my actions for you can never bury my words.

A simple epitaph could never convey the rage that is far to misunderstood .

I believe  I will leave you with a mystery for some riddles were not worth the time to solve I ask will mine weigh heavy as a long regret?

I right in the shadows for in there darkness I understand not all but the ultimate critic myself.

Last call is here.

Nobody had herd from him in two weeks time.
I knew Bob was a lot of things a drunk a recluse a self exiled outcast.
But one thing he never was had been silent .

We were occasional drinking buddies going back to many years to recall

We were the professional drunks the radicals to those who lived under the illusion playing nice somehow granted you immortality.

I hadn't gone by there in awhile .
Sometimes you just have to go with a feeling .

The last time I went there to his house it was to *******  silent.

The old character that filled that silence was gone .
And I simply knew his place was no longer here .


We lived alone, we lived like pirates with no concern for tomorrow .
And no matter how you view it one day everyone has to ******* die .

It's funny how the annoying characters when no longer around truly let you know how silent the world could be .

I always drank alone and now literally that's how from now on it would remain.

I wasn't one for making friends seemed to much like a dam job .
You had to be a person that wasn't me .

I was a loner it kept me safe I wasn't the type who asked for **** from anyone else .

Still it stung knowing are last drink was are goodbye  .

But life is never planned we sat that evening watched the sunset .
Laughed about old times and sat just listening to music in the dark of a summer night .

I couldn't have written it better myself.

"Man you ever think about stopping drinking"?

I had asked him one morning after one hell of a ****** .

"Yeah when I'm dead cowboy".

He responded with that goofy *** laugh of his .

Sitting here on this night the sound of me and the crickets outside I had to think to myself of my old friend .

Well guess he finally put down the bottle down for good.

No matter the time that passes you will always be missed my brother .

And now I simply continue where you left off .

Sometimes we run only to reflect on that which we tried to escape.
Its a twisted comedy to a burden of lifes stage every flaw shown in a public forum.
Mock me today for no more will i cast stones to hear the splash or await a ripples view.

**** it today i'll avoid it for tommorows worry.
As a grave's whisper echo's just a smile of certain didain in a groups empty flaw.
Sometimes I run but never do I pretend to escape.

Like a old radio to a forgotten generation still I exist to keep company in a hollow
time.
Static a old friend and reminder of what can never be.

Pages left unread a point ive seldom understood.
Ive created the cage yet forgot its reason or construction.
In a corner none seem to grace the light of worn out eye's.

Dreams dont make the embers of a fire raise the warmth on a winters chill.
Old air cant open lungs to a new path only cast a mold into a decayed once open mind.
Ive grown to see the road ahead is a circle and only dogs chase there tails.

Were always a step from the close yet many will see in others a vision to inspire.
Im growing to see no choice only a role cast of stone.
Can i rip the page  to begin fresh from all but never erase the thought that
was you.

Blood a marker dried was a river ow but a ditch.
Cast the stone's run while you can for a crawl is all i can bare these days.
And if its was tommorow would we just drift in the thoughts of a day?

Gone am I.
But a page to be viewed as other's will.
Embrace the thought for a vision is but a dream of rest we can never escape.
In my thoughts im void of rest and so ******* tired I cant bare the weight.
I can no longer cast stones for the reactions sake.

Theres always a excuse not to fail.
Lack of spine is what it all comes down.to.
Many build a callus on there *** waiting for something to land in there lap.

Is it fear or comfort that makes one lazy?

I never knew anything easy two broken feet a few broken ribs a busted knuckle or two the scars of effort i wore them with pride.

People are a nice thought far to often gone astray.
There words lend fools comfort.
And keep the bitter moving without regret.

I was alone with my thoughts and what a place i truly embraced being.
Crazy is just a word to keep others away.

Maybe its why i wore it like a badge.
For its the mad ones that intrest me the most.

There is always a reason not to try.
And never a excuse that doesnt reek of ******* and a normal existance.


Saftey is for signs on the walls and guns in bored fools hands.

Avoid that word at all time's and you will be fine.
As you bask in the solace of your own truths and simple plessures.

Theres never a excuse.

Those old stories you never thought to be true .
****** up fairy tales two busted marriages you do not know me so dont pretend to.understand.

A needle a promise .
A busted nose bloodstains left behind and lies to fill the spaces inbetween.

You can think the reason never knowing the answer theres more to a friendship than a title yeah sweetheart im speaking to you.

Erase my pages but we cannot forget that night .
Alone the **** still stings shadows in candle light give romance to a grand illusion .

Im nothimg outside the page and you just what i made of you.
A romance lasts years and a cancer can linger just the same.

Both will **** you just the same so grow up quick kids and lose the delusions before it blinds your reason.

The thought is all that matters and the page its final resting place .
Goodnight for now.

A parting kiss another one night stand .
Its just a view from my world .
I've paid my dues ten fold.

And i can forget more than most will learn.
It was always there I just had to live to find it.

**** the edge I dove of it years ago

We all find are truths jaded with time .
Words faded sands built up over time and we erase the person so only the legend stands.

Remorse is best kept silent.
Dont ever let them know you.
Or your ****** when it comes to the page.

No matter how hard you try it always bleeds through.

You were that illusion *** and madness tied together twisted to perfection and almost as flawed as myself.
In the backseat escapes and the ******* 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 ******* 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 ****** 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 .

She never said it was gone it just faded like a sunset and the light hasn't crept in yet.
Where did it go?
Was it the pill's the drinks or maybe a combination
of something we never cared to recall?

I walk towards the end as you simply walked away.

Nothing holds you better than the regrets through yet another empty hours night .
You drink to forget then you just somehow forget to stop .

Watch one to many a sunrise then repeat the cycle till one day your no longer here .

I'm not in denial of the truth I embrace it as once I did you .
And now I wait where others choose to live .

Catching a buzz and a one night stand in-between .
Painting the pictures that write the page in regrets and dead end streets it all goes to **** eventually why not have a smoke before the fires of your personal demons consume you .

I never cared for conversation's much to begin with .


And now I find little reason to disturb the silence to simply hear my own words spoken aloud .

It's definitely half empty in this case but at least it was a hundred proof  to begin with .

Never ******* yourself it was always a gamble from the start.

Torn the flesh does the monster consume the grave is calling and I dance with glee towards my demise .

Counting scars making new wounds all the time does the trigger appeal to you or just the outcome ?

Lets bleed for no reason and get lost never to return as one.
Fractions of many will be trampled by the few.

With help from old friends and a quick fix keep away from the windows and lock your thoughts far away from.your heart .

I'm the fool dancing happily on the outer wall .

Devils find promise in the loaded deck where madmen seek nothing at all.

Tombstones mark the many .
And you simply are standing upright for now .

The rattle snakes venom such dark pleasures cast beyond the page .

We can no longer pretend .

The madman needs nothing but a asylum but hides as well on a empty street.

Scarecrows stand casting shadows tall in summers heat.

Nobody wants to see there truths clear .
Blind yourself while you can for the worst is still ahead .

And the darkness consumes the best of us all.

I know the highway you choose to ignore .

Madness is always within the miles yet unseen that lay ahead .

There's no detour through hell.
Simply a straight line .

It's a question I dreaded as much as any  other .
It was always a simple one to ask and often the hardest most ******* annoying question to answer.

They seldom cared it was more like what they were expected to ask and I loathed the looks they gave when they asked it.
It was a mix of this idiot doesn't even make sense  how could he be anything more than a ***.
That and well guess there's no need in asking does he work for a living.

My answer was always the same and it seldom was the answer  they themselves thought they wanted to hear.

I write about life.

How do you mean?, they would always ask confused as I was on how to answer this simplistic question.

I write about the people that fill the bar the ones that judge outside the bar, the women long since who have become bitter and the drunks who are just happy to catch a buzz.

I write bout the ******* who thrive off the misery of others and the cruel ******* who break those same ******* all the same.
I write  about myself cause I truly don't give a **** to know about you .

I just write because I exist.
And I write for I am a writer .


I paused to see the look that although the face was different the look was all to familiar.

Umm okay well I wish you the best.
The woman said as she turned and simply walked away wishing only to distance herself from the man who she could not tell if he was insulting her or just to caught up in his own ******* to give  a dam to begin with.

I had to laugh to myself for even though I was far from a people person sometimes I wish only to know this answer to this ******* question that followed me like some dark cloud.

My work always spoke for itself but it thrived separate from the man few people truly know .

And with me I always preferred to be distant from the reader.
I had been writing for as long as I could remember but those around me would truly have no clue if you asked them about my work.

And honestly that's how I prefer it.
The pen and the page hold magic and me I simply hold a drink.

Two forces that exist as one but make no mistake are greatly separate by design .

I would rather people know the illusion than the fool behind the curtain.

For when after they read the  writer.
Seldom if by some strange chance we met did they ever ask so what do you write?

There is no easy way to take it.
The rejection of many never compares to that of one once true


They are the ones that always hit you the hardest.
I have buried myself to avoid the pain of the many my defenses are stronger than the average man.

She was my exception .
I didn't try to stop you .
Only a fool pleads.
Giving what little dignity he has for a thin chance at something that is over to begin with.

Kelley was my poison she was like certain death and a good time all rolled into one.

She never cared for anyone let alone me
But I made her laugh and that was good enough to have her for six years .

She was the one I wasnt supposed to have.
Young beautiful she was from a world I could never understand.

But she loved me for what reasons I will never truly grasp.

I missed are passion for everything.
Fighting ,Drinking ,*******.
She understood madness with a good dose of her own.

The week she left me.for good I stayed on a three week drunk.
Eat pills like they were candy and found after awhile even being numb has a emptiness that simply masks pain.


The phone would ring and I knew it was her.
I couldn't answer.

It wasnt that I didn't want to hear from her.
It was I didn't want to allow lies to feed a glimmer of hope.

Writers are professional liars.
She was no writer.
She was something far worse.
She was a women whom had a mans mentality.

She was as  ****** up as me and I knew her love was toxic .
She was like a cigarette to a trying to quit smoker .

Sure it can **** you but man one draw and that poison never tasted so good.
Death can be tempting when it looks so ******* good.

I was the past to her .
Nobody ever stays in love with the past.

I sat there alone in my cluttered room watching one day flow into the next.

Dust grew upon the page.
My thoughts simply stayed in a state of rewind.

Im not home  now leave message after the beep.

Baby please talk to me.
Kelly's voice came through.

I didn't answer .
There's only silence amougsnt the tombstones.

Some people mean well but when they ask you the question
are they really prepared for the answer?

How am I?  Well let me tell you.
Life is lived daily by the frayed edges of well worn rope.
My stale cigarette is just one inhale away from burning my flesh.
Lovers?  I'm one **** away from a grand STD because I don't care
enough to love anymore.  Just into the harsh slip and slide offered
in the back of the sticky floored bar.  It's filled with people like me here.
We don't talk, we stare, we smoke, the burn of the poison going down
strokes a fire that makes us feel alive.

They want me to change.  Change is was what brought me here.
Ironic isn't it?  Massive waves of stench roll over my light filled
soul trying to dim.  That, they can never have.  No matter how far
I've gone into the dark night of the soul...no one gets my flame.

A poison push just another shot then we simply say are goodbyes .
Can we even see beyond the miles now we walked through hell and just as many walk through that door.

Is it malice we take are bitterness sharing with every one night stand .
Junkies are all the same with far better titles

Alleys of emptiness and rooms cast in shadow will the night corrupt us all turning the meek into rats .

Afraid we no longer recognize are reflection hidden in coffins and that early graves promise .

Can you take me with my burden or simply say ******* goodbye?

We all fall down sometimes and others simply prefer to crash and burn.
One more round turns to seven more years the trap was set and you simply put your hand within the fire .

We are all over-sized children playing a fatal game~

I was a stranger to all and most of all a  villain to myself.
It was at fifteen I began my love with the bottle a affair I still hold true as friends resemble highway markers worn still standing yet never do the grasp my road they simply judge my miles.

You all start pure as life ***** us all up in such different and brutal yet perfect ways.
Drugs a experiment for which I have earned a degree ******* a vice women far more deadly to me neither of which I intend to stop using anytime soon.

The road was my lure and still the deserts thirst shall never be quenched I feel a pirate whom stands amongst strangers I have known for a lifetime and held that much more of regret.

Shards of my past escape fragments of my existence color the nights black and gray a vague thought of a harsh intrusion I'm beyond what most would consider there limits I will be fine.
Now let me tell you yet another well intended lie.

I have buried more friends now I only wish to hear those voices that made me feel the warmth in this cold of success.
**** if I can pretend to hold it together the ships sank and I am but a ghost that haunts this frame that stands before you now.

To feel pain is to feel something at least .
I bare no cross for I claim no guilt so place your ******* on someone else for it will never plague my existence my friend.  

I'm here now so don't cast a farewell before the final round my dear,
We all know demons I simply bask in there hell for a wicked charm and a burnt out existence that is I.


I view the image in the mirror and understand who I am.
Can you truly say the same?

I question nothing to see the end isn't in my cards but I will drink until my sunset and **** those who never got it to begin with!
Skeletons don't gather in closets for a hide nothing from the page and everything from you my dear.

Are pages filled and now we are left with a paper cut that bleeds  only for the times that have past.
Guess the cards were **** to begin with.
Let us dance one last time to let me know your love that resembles decay.

Strangle the fruit and leave only rot  in destruction we blossom now can we just lay for the time to pass and not say goodbye.
Maybe your embrace of sand was water to dessert and I simply eager to thirst.
Fools often find comfort and old wolves simply die.

Maybe in a reflection when the ripples have past we can view it as it never was right now.
Distance will find us strangers and I'm not the type to just exist to suit another's heart.

We knew the end we just chose to taste the storm for what it was and nothing more .
A forgotten storm raining gently upon this souls tin roof.

I have tasted happiness as of wine and bitter choices .
I do not care to linger anymore .

I awoke naked in the cemetery; the devil was nowhere in sight.
Scotty laughed his *** off. William simply shook his head.

Bob was nowhere to be found.
As I walked around, void of shame fueled by alcohol on the verge of stopping my heart.
I collected my clothes and realized I had busted my *** in my blacked-out adventures and **** ripped off my right ear.

I had forever scrambled my eggs, and deep fried my soul washed away my worries with an ever-approaching sun.

Cried fool’s Gold confessions and realized if I ever yearned to be home.

Amongst the tombstones and ever-past friends epitaphs.

I truly was already here.
I don't cry because they're gone.
I only cry because I have remained.

God never seems to answer the ******* phone!

Hey kids  well  plain and simple  Im gone.
Adios its been real but im ****** tired sick and plain worn out.
This site is great if your into kissing *** and  backstabbing.

This is the thing ive been here awhile and im not gonna
go into the reasons behind me leaving but **** isnt right so
have fun and no matter what theres only one of me.

I came here tried to make people laugh tried to be fun well
every clown has to wash off the makeup  and call it quits sometime
to my friends cause i dont have fans.

You all are truely what kept me here this long.
I think honestly you all are some great poets and it's been really a honor  reading your work.

This sites a great place to express yourself so keep on doing so
im just tired of the *******.
This statement is for my friends and thoose of you who've put up with my antics  i love you all.

I have to say i really found myself as a writer here and really found my true voice  but   life goes on  and that road is far from over.
Adios  amigos  keep writting and most of all

Stay  Crazy