i exist somewhere between the kick drum and the snare

i am the blood thundering in our veins

i am the rhythm that gives us life

i am the 375 nanometers of ultraviolet light shining down on you

i am the space between the notes and the silence before the drop

i am oscillation, reverberation, undulation of bassline

i am rattling ribcage from excess decibels

i am titinnitus waiting to strike.

3,4-methylenedioxy-N-methylamphetamine,  Lysergic acid diethylamide,  tetrahydrocannabinol, ethanol, benzoylmethylecgonine; choose your poison so that you may enjoy me better

i am the sweat that slicks our skin and keeps us cool

i am the longing look that leaps from eye to eye

i am mellifluous melody, motivator of movement, master of mind.

i am the sea of strangers you find yourself lost in, minimally clad bodies moving in ways you didn't know were possible.

i am the fire-poi spinner, the LED hula-hooper, the melbourne-shuffling madman, the obnoxious bro, the ancient hippie, the obviously underage girl, the idiot overdosing in the corner, and the person wearing more pony beads than clothes.

i am the rave.

i find it quite sad that the only thing stopping me from beng who i wish to be is a certain sequence of numbers.

numbers seem to have more power over people than any god or government-

this world was built-

and will burn-

because of numbers.

bank account statements cause stalemates between myself and my ambitions-

I am chained and restrained by my credit score, cruelly kept from exploring distant shores.

men slay their fellow man without a second thought

for a fat stack of cash and thoughts of what could be bought.

John Lennon imagined a world with nothing to **** or die for
no posessions too

but money is the cruel hand that tears that dream in two.

for as long as the concept of money
is the fire that drives men's hearts to beat

we will never truly see peace,
living at the mercy of the balance sheet.

the year is two thousand and fourteen and something isn't right

maybe it's related to the fact that there is no more history on the history channel

and the only thing the discovery channel wants to investigate
is the depth of our bank accounts

the word 'integrity' has become archaic. obsolete. unnecessary, simply, because nobody has any anymore.

whatever happened to learning for the sake of learning?

who was the sick greedy ******* who decided that it was okay to charge money for knowledge?

our youth are being put into ******* for the knowledge necessary to survive in this society

of inequality.

in the 21st century slaves toil away in classroom as well as coal mines.

and those who dare to resist the path of post-modern peonage laid before them are doomed to a life of minimum wage mundanity or constant criminal risk.

there is something to be said about the quality of our reality if we are constantly seeking mind altering substances to escape it.

i too have become a slave. and a large portion of those who read this message have as well.

our souls signed away at the dotted line, sealed within great paper phylacteries adorned with the sinister sigils of Sallie Mae.

the chains of our debt will never let go of us. even upon death our progeny will have to hoist our burdens on their shoulders.

and for those of you who know not of our *******, i bid you welcome, like a Brother greater than I once said:

"welcome to the united snakes, land of the thief, and home of the slave. the grand imperial guard, where the dollar is sacred and power is god."

if your total net worth rests below a cool few million i suggest you stay away.

silly me. silly me, silly me, silly me. after all this country was built on generation after generation of genocide, **** and fraud, codified into the laws we hold so tight and so high, how naive was i to even expect civil discourse and equality from a naturally sinister state?

cloaked in the fog of pure ignorance we the people paradoxically bear the weight of our fraudulent federal government on our backs while simultaneously parasitically depend upon it.

parapets and gaudy domiciles all built with the blood sweat and tears of the disenfranchised. soft music composed of the screams of children dying from predator drone hellfire missiles lilts through the hallways.

news flash: the illuminati and the reptilian overlords are not trying to control your mind.

this is not about pineal gland calcification and third eyes but about the systematic disenfranchisement and subjugation of every man woman and child in this unfortunate nation.

they impose harsh sentences on small time drug crimes and outsource our only sources of economic stability.
left with no upward mobility, we then resort to any means necessary to simply survive.

'the world is your oyster.' they say. and they conveniently fail to mention the fine print which emphatically states that you may only possess the oyster shucking knife if you are white, male, and upper middle class.

this is not about checking privilege and white guilt. this is about the way that this ****** up world works. about the sinister cogs turning behind the scenes.

and if you dare raise your voice in resistance you'll find yourself staring at cinderblock walls, spools of barbed wire, reinforced steel bars, and armed guards for the rest of your sad life. your enclosed inmate existence making the coffers of the prison-industrial complex even deeper.

some say we should raise our fists instead and fight. and i say to them good luck fight the world's most technologically advanced military in its own home territory. Guerilla warfare and armed millitias stand about as good of a chance and gorillas armed with sticks and stones when the enemy possesses satellites that can see your face from orbit.

and i hope you don't mine being despised by the public of the modern world when you're slapped in the face with that dreadful catch-all term that is 'terrorist'.

but we can't just sit here and let the vines of greed asphyxiate our vitality away.

so herein lies the eternal question that i pose to you:

what are we to do?

sometimes i feel that the reason the sun chooses to turn its back on this world and set and the reason that all light leaves is because you are not by my side and i miss you

every time the cool summer breeze steals from beneath barely cracked windowsills and disturbs my blankets i wish that you were there to fix them and to kiss me back to sleep

and when those summer breezes turn into hard winter winds i wish you were there to help keep me warm

your absence is the elephant in this room except this elephant has decided to sit squarely upon my chest
my every breath is labored and my hear aches for rest and for you

i miss you like puddles miss being part of the ocean

i miss you like a retired jet captain misses his deceased co-pilot

i miss you

these words are quickly becoming the only ones i remember how to say aloud and it is taking all of me to not scream them to the heavens

i am consumed by myself and my sorrow and all i can think is that i miss you.

if i could paint a picture
of how much i regret the way things ended
it would be a sad assemblage
of pastel blues and greys and blacks
stained with flecks of golden yellow
not unlike the thunderheads currently taking up residence in my head.

If i could write you a letter
it would be yet another failed attempt
at describing how much my very soul aches
for something as simple as your presence.

if i could hold your hand
the nearby flowers would bloom
and the sun would glow green with envy.

if i could kiss your lips
i would certainly lose my mind
and not want to be found ever again.

if i could call out your name
i would hope that the winds would show me pity
and carry my voice to your ears.

if i were to sing a song
it would be a beautiful ballad
every measure dedicated to another flawless part of you.

if i could build a bridge
that spanned across time
it would lead me back to that wednesday in august
in your arms
slipping into slumber to the rhythm
of the raindrops tapping upon the windowpane.

if i could tell a story
it would be of the way the sun chases the moon across the sky;
to urge everyone everywhere to cherish those close to them.

if i could make myself stronger
i would squeeze the earth until
the number of miles between you and i
dwindled down to zero.

if i could look into a mirror
i would be puzzled by what i would see
and find it hard to recognize
the face staring back at me.

if i could give you my heart
i would in an instant.
in the time it takes for my heart to beat its last iambic
i would rip open true ribs one through five
and offer my crimson ***** to you.

if i could have met you any other way
under different circumstances
in a different time
under a different sun
maybe this would have ended differently
or not ended at all.

I am not your Romeo
and you are not my ******* Juliet
and yet
we are still kept apart
by miles and years
and no amount of wasted tears will ever
change the fact that
I am not your Romeo
and you are not my ******* Juliet.
This is not a fairytale,
there is no happy ending
and I am sick and tired of sending
prayers up to a god
that doesn't care
or doesn't even exist.
I am not your Romeo
and you are not my ******* Juliet.
this is the
seventh
time that fate has felt like
dangling a beautiful soul
in front of my face yet out of my grasp
(I keep count because I'm a bit of a *******)
and I'm not sure how much longer I want to keep playing this game.
but don't
worry your pretty little head baby I'll
be around until you're done with me.
I'll be yours until you decide to
move on and become just another number on my list
and sweet memories I wish I could forget because
I am not your Romeo
and you are not my ******* Juliet.

I would like to run my five fingertips
all over your carnal curves and contours
in every crevice, crack and concavity
in the vast canyons of your brilliant mind
dive into the ocean of your subconscious
delve into the deep valleys of your psyche
spelunking in the caves of your desires
uncover the ancient arcane secrets
hidden in the space behind your vibrant eyes
let us lay among the old oaks and laugh
arm in arm, soul in soul, floating upon
velvet sunsets on sweetest summer days
until the oceans dry, the ground cracks, and
the sun dies, I will never leave your side.