Another night of television hell I was in the middle of a hell of a block.
And withoout the funds my usal cure of hookers and *******  wasnt a open
road so to speak.

I was lost I wondred the streets like  ****** in need of a john.
When through the darkness it appearded a well lit haven in the middle of
a thoughtless storm.

The cinema cafe drinks and films  hmm from looking at the marquee seems
there wasnt much to choose from .
It read like a preschooler had puked apon the board.

There were sequels, and prequels,  gay vampires that walked around in the day,
Weirdos who flew around on broom sticks and loads of treenage **** minus the ****.
Dear lord! I had to get to the bottom of this problem.

The pimple faced kid at the booth asked me in a squeeky yet firm semi manly
voice can I help you sir?
Yes my dear crater face whats with this **** you call films here ?
Umm I dont make em sir there just whats popular.

The greezy faced hampster had a good point in what he said that is.
cause other than that I had no clue what he was working with really what do you think
I am some kinda pervert?

Let me ask you something do you like this **** you sell tickets to?
**** no dude its garbage for halfwits and retards  and some people from Canada.
Who the hell wants to see that **** from twilight  play snow white?
Let me ask is that a adult film?
Duh no ******* we dont show thoose here.

Would you know were I could see thoose films?
Im doing some umm research on human sexulality  it involves alotta big words
which i cant spell so i'll spare you the details  just point me in the right direction
and nobody gets hurt.

Dude they havent shown thoose kinda movies in theaters for years.
Oh yeah and theres this thing called the internet once is way better than writting on your
cave walls.
Kids there really great *******.

After some back in fourth who gives a **** or really reads this ***** banter.
The man with the pizza face finally hit his limit.
Look *******!
I dont make the **** ,I dont watch the ****!
If you gotta problem take it up with the studio exects in Hollywood.

You gotta point there sparky give me your keys!
What! No.
Give me your keys or else.
Or else what grandpa  your gonna hit me with your walker.

No you silly *******.
Or else I'll shoot you.
Ya see young man that should wear a iron mask.
You may have a I Phone
But I have a handgun  and  that always wins the debate no hand em over.

After a brief moment of the little ******* ***** crying and begging for me not to **** him.
Really he watched to many TV shows I wasnt gonna **** him besides.
Im allergic to prison and it wasnt even a real gun what a *******.

I was off in my borrowed car  to the land of bad ideas and great **** jobs.
A place more fake than barbies dream home minus that dickless tool she always
hung out with  not that I played with Barbie's but she does have some really kickarse *******
and im a big fan of ******* hell what great writer isnt?

It was a drive that seemed to take forever  but finally i pulled up to the front gate
of Warner Brothers studios.
The little weird looking gate keeper looked at me and said .
can I help you sir.

Yes please direct me to your leader strange gaurd troll.
Uhh sir this is a closed lot only people with passes can enter.
Well what if i know the secret word?

Who told you about the secret word?
I had him with that one.
These Hollyweird vampires couldnt have enough brain power to
keep some pass on them.
Okay whats the secret word sir?

I had to think deep and from such a shallow mind that was asking alot.
What could it be it had to be something that rang true like snorting a line of
coke of Katy Perry's  ***'s.

Dear lord I had it.

Brad Pitt ***** donkey *****.

The man looked at me in utter shock  I wasnt sure if he was gonna let me pass
or try to pull me out my slightly worn odd smelling borrowed car.
Alright sir it's lot 69 hahaha  yeah I know im demented.

Right next to the lot there filming Winds Of Change **** The Musical!
Staring Johnny Depp and Bogo the ***** chimp.
****** i wish i wasnt busy  that chimp seemed like he had a good head on his shoulders.
Well when he wasnt jerking off and eating bannans while throwing his poo.
What a talent indeed.

I found myself in the studio people running every which a way.
It was total confussion   seemd like no one had a clue what the hell they were doing.
Hey ******* shouted some weird little man in a chair who the **** are you!?.

The little red haired man must truely be dellusional.
How could someone not know Gonzo?
Well sir just who the **** are you? I replied.

Well im Ron ******* Howard *****!
Hmm never herd of you are you a director or something?
What!!!
Ever hear of Andy Griffith  or Happy Days?
Oh yeah your that little dork that hung out with that cop yeah what a snitch.
I was playing his son *******.

Dam well seems this ginger finally explained to me why that man always had him around
it all makes sense now i just thought he was some kinda pervert.
Course seems like he had picked up some bad habbits from that Fonzie guy
never trust a man who calls the restroom his office but what a man does with
another man in a ***** restroom for plesure or profit is his own bussiness.

Look *******  what the hell do ya want?
Lets start with a gallon's of nothern light maybe some top shelf hookers some good music.
Maybe a couple hits of some lets say nose candy maybe turn off the lights and see what happens.
Im just saying sometimes ya gotta let nature take it's drug filled course.

Im not talking bout from life dip **** i mean what the hell are you doing here?
Oh **** sorry there  carrot top.
I wanna see the person in charge that green lights all this remake **** you souless
morons put out and call entertainment.

The little red haired devil was silent as he explained to me no one ever saw the
studio head it was like meeting Santa Claus or ****** or being in the pressence of a unicorn
really whats the diffrence.

He warned me of the dangers of meeting such a great mind yet like I do with
most people I simply shook me head and agreed much like i do with
women im trying to sleep with duh like I care about her tweenty seven cats.

Finally after learning I wasnt taking no for a answer he lead me to a room
And in this room was a screen and apon the screen appread a face.
Who dare question the mighty head of the film studio!!

The voice was loud  still it had that comfoting quallity that you just have to love in
a windbag *******.
Umm me.

You well who the hell are you?
Duh ******* im the long winded ******* writting the story.
Oh well what the **** do you want?

Sir I wanna know what the hell's wrong with you people.
Look im a drunk but i could never be drunk enough to pay a fortune to watch half the **** you call entertainment between remakes and films based on gay *** stories about vampires
and dudes who run around the woods calling themselves werewolves.

You mean you actully saw twilight?
The voice asked me on the verge of laughter.
Duh i see a bunch of hot chicks  going anywhere im following without asking
much like the mindless drones that watch that ****.

Sir your a sad sad man.
The strange face on the screen vanished out from the curtan appeared
what looked like *** it was Bugs Bunny !!

Bug's!  
What's up gonz?
****** i always knew you were real much like Fergie and spanish fly.

Gonzo i know half this **** ***** but its because mindless idiots love studip ****.
Look you were once a popular writer and you cant even spell.
Ouch now go ahead mighty furry samuri.

Ya see whatever makes money we put out and really stupid young girls much like your teenage
wife love that **** and being perverts like yourself wanna get laid you'll take them to that ****.
Bugs are you saying it's all about money?

No **** *******.

We talked drank watched backroom casting couch tapes of early starlets like
Harrison Ford no wonder he was so good with that whip.

It was magic minus the  money loving **** mouse that'll sue your ***.
Bugs I gotta ask you a deep question?
Shoot there Gonz .
Is Mickey really just a cross dresser calling himself Minnie?

You are messed up in so many ways Gonz.
We laughed swapped ***** stories  like the time Bugs slipped
Daisy some ****** and got a ******* in the magic castle  while goofy watched.

What the **** is Goofy?

Gonz .
My furry amigo said to **** if I know.

Untill next time kids stay crazy

And remember if you wish apon a star  ya better make sure to whom thoose copy rights
belong to truley are.
Cause thoose rich ******* will sue your *** .

Cheers

                               FIN?

When the world is in trouble and theres nowhere left to turn.
Well your **** outta luck till then theres the Gonzo report.

Live from hidden location in a Florida basment broadcasting
now it's time for the Gonzo report.
With your team of in depth and seldom sane news team.

Your anchor man Gonzo   co Anchor that Batsheba
weather chick Neva finally gotta mention Flores.
Sports with your favorite ****** Richard Shepard.

And then theres Paula Swanson  who's sitting on my other side
I dont really know why  but eveyone likes Paula so who gives a *****.
Who wants a sandwhich im just saying.
And are field reporters Jeremy Wyatt,Chris Smith,And Mr E,

This just in.
A old man lost control of his car running over 17 people
and seriously ******* off one dwarf.
And if your keeping track at home kids it's old farts 20 crazy texting while driving teen *****   15.

Theres big trouble in Cairo kiddies  with more  no the situation
are own version  of snooky Bathsheba   take it away.
the camera zooms into  the   queen of Hello.
I swear to God Gonzo if  dont back the **** up i will knife you
you crazy *******  and put some ****** pants on you ******.

Yes Bathsheba ******* the outside  and  kinda ****** all around as well
but enough with the foreplay children.
Oh look Paula made cookies!
Baths began here report on troubles that had befallen this country
And as i mixed a drink it made me wonder.
Were the **** is Eygpt.

Opps looks like i dropped my cookie.
Like a mighty ninja with a hot flash I was met with a searing
pain to my nose.
In the name of Cindy Crawford what was that for?

Thats for even thinking bout going under that table.
But .
No Baths replyed  then hit me again.
The pain the agony my modeling carear.

Now with coverage from the World Series  heres Richard Shepard
Richard Can you here us.
The cam camera  cut  to a shot of a monkey masterbaiting in the Bronx zoo.

Yes the production team of Goldie and Joel M Frye
when not watching hot oil dwarf  varsity wrestling death match
there top notch.

Richard  dear lord man were on air it's no time for that now.
This isnt Chris's  bachelor party.
That isnt Richard you ****** Baths  spoke in that charming yet
Voice that told me if i didnt stop I might get a free *** change
voice of her's.

And it's not the world Series you half wit it's the Superbowl.
No  wonder  there was no mention of the stanley cup.
Baths what do you not know.
So after i mixed another wild turkey and put a mirror under
Paula's nose to make sure she was still breathing.
I told her  the roofies really help with the nerves.

Finally The artist formely known as Jack Horner   was live on the screen  from some cult meeeting it appeared.
*** they've captured Fergie.
Richard take it away.

Well these ***** keeping fighting over this ball.    
Runnin back  and ****** forth its driving me ****** bonkers.
Oh yeah amigo I these knickers ya asked for.
Richard held a pair of black *******  to the camera yeah
smell of  no talent  and overproduced songs.
dam you slash.

Back in the studio.
Ummm haha well i didnt ask him to steal anyones *******.
Paula broke the awkward silence i dont wanna go to school.
Paula you alright?
***** you John Travolta.

Ok well also at the world series of poker Jeremy Wyatt and he's got a special guest Taylor Swift.
Great god of the traveling  flying squirrell monkeys pants.
anything but her.

Screaming like a naughty little school girl with a  bad texting  habit
on a unlimted plan i dove underneath the news desk for it's better
die at the heels of Baths and a tap dancing kinda drugged Paula than   face a evil more sinister than Drew Dillegence or Ghandi  combined.

Jeremy was in the danger zone note even knowing it for beneath that
yummy little body layed the soul of satan  himself.

It was Nashvile  a few whiskey laced years ago  I was a drummer
for local sessions  she was 16 I.
well I wasnt.
you mix in some drugs s0me cars crashes knocking over a liquor store or two.  
That little hell cat had a thirst for danger  and some  lets just say
weird habbits   okay it was more like a curse.

Strange things happend to here past lovers.
John Mayer,  The gay cowboy from Broke Back Mountain  you know
that movie about the sinking ship, and that lesbian  from the Jonas Brothers.

Yes just as soon as she wrote a song you were good as dead.
You'd vanish to here secret torture chamber were her music played
non stop   and your blood was drained slowley so she could feed
her own talent or lack there of.

Jermy puzzled  hey Gonz you there Baths umm Paula ?
Underneath the saftey of are second hand news desk hey look gum.
huddled togather like three okay one drunk monkey and a passed out frat sister and a very ******* Baths please dont stab me im
fragile   like a aged bottle of good whiskey im just saying.

We gotta make a brake for it look Baths  you distract her im blowing this joint  like a long winded madman  on a five day binge
let loose on old country buffet.

Baths   spoke   in a  language  that was always a challenge  for me
called sanity.
Gonz if you dont let me out from under this desk.
Im going to rip your heart out and feed it to the  homless dwarfs.
And heres a napkin Paula's drooling on you.

I have a heart?

After a brief break.
And another check to make sure Paula was still breathing we
returned.
Dear lord where's Jeremy!

Screams could be herd Jesus Richard   it's no time for killing hookers
But 10 dollar beers  are a real kick in the ***.
Oh well Wyatts  gone he'll be missed.
this just in Taylor Swift to release her new single Why  Not  Jeremy!

Dear lord sweet sallys *** it was code she had taken him hostage
in the love of all things lady gaga  someone had to save my amigo.
except me  cause that ***** was crazy  and she's got a hell of a bite
im just saying  stay  strong   Jeremy  and think happy thought's

I could feel the ****** clamps and smell the burning flesh
from the car battery as we speak but enough  bout me and skeeters
personal life.

now its time for the weather with finally she's gotta mention Neva voice like a angel  Flores.
thanks Gonz that southern bombshell replyed okay in the south.

Alright Neva that was great  like i need to hear the weather.
I havent been outside in  seven years.

This just in Mr E  has been taken hostage in Cairo.
Well kids all i can say is as much as this hurts
we dont deal with terrorist  like we could raise a hundred bucks.

The bulletin came across the wire Raitch with a look of dont **** with me   Gonzo  although Pepples  thinks your okay in a ***** kinda pervert way.

All hells breaking loose  a all girls school for hot super models    
in trainng.
Baths  in shock and mock concern replyed oh dear lord.
I dont who has chops to cover such a story in short notice.
Raitch  Oh Baths I dont know either   ive herd  there ripping  each others clothes off   hair pulling its worse than a prison riot with
hot half naked strippers.

Baths kept speaking but in the name of chain gang women
i was lost deep in thought over ******* and world events
while downloading  pictures of Fergie eating a banana
what im a health nut okay.

Yeah I dont know who should go cover such a story right now hint.
Gonzo Baths and Ratich spoke like a tag team of terror hint!
Hey I should go shouldnt  I  ?

Yeah Gonz  ya think ?

With some ***** looks from the people who much like my family
wish id forget there names.
So they wouldnt have to join the witnness relocation program
i love it when they play hard to get.

Finally i was off the trusty Gonzo Report news van  waitting for me a bottle of wild turkey and some fine reading materials by that thinkers mag hustler waitting in the back.

There my amigos stood standing togather waving goodbye.
crying tears of joy hey is that a keg?
Chris on the turntables im beginnning to think it was a party.

But if Chris  was there just who was driving the Gonzo van!

The little dwarf laughed in glee as we flew threw town
like Charlie Sheen on a coke binge.
I was tossed around  like a beach ball at greatful dead concert
as finally   over the cliff the van flew.

There was a explosion that could be herd for at least a half a mile
course that was drowned out by the party.

The party was in full swing  finally Paula awoke.
Hey what the  hell happend and why is Trimman
******* my leg?

                                  
                                  Is Gonzo really Dead?  
    
    Will Jeremy Wyatt ever escape the *** dungeon of Taylor Swift.
                    
                        Will Richard Shepard ever put out a book
                        how kick lots of **** yet win the hearts of millions
                        and do a co write with lady GaGa and Mel Gibson?


                    Will Neva Flores  get ****** over her five second
                     mention hunt me down  and torture me for hours
                     im just saying  a girls got needs.


                    Will Paula Swanson  kick Trimman like a field goal
                                                    or just pass back out?

               Find out in the next action packed trillogy  called
                                          The Death Of Gonzo  

                       Untill  Next Time Stay Crazy Kids

The start of something new
So much promise in sight
What the hell happens
When it is no longer right

Your querks and habbits
Just annoy me now
Was the honeymoon period
Just us being nice?!

Hello, this is wonderland
Everyone has gone mad
If you're normal,
This place will change that.
Welcome to wonderland

You'll wonder what's the matter,
When you meet the mad hatter.
You'll wander to that little drink,
That seems to have made you shrink.
But be warned of the cake most of all,
For it will make you grow so tall.

Hello, this is wonderland,
Everyone has gone mad.
If you're normal,
We'll change that.
Welcome to wonderland.

You'll meet the White Rabbit,
And be curious about his habbits.
The Cheshire Cat will be a scare,
Once you see, he's not all there.
Now the Knave of Hearts,
Never stole the Red Queen's tarts.

Hello, this is Wonderland.
Everyone has gone mad.
If you're normal,
We'll change that.
Welcome to Wonderland.

It's a wonderful place,
Here in Wonderland.
There's monsters to face,
Here in Wonderland.
They'll drive you mad,
We can't change that.
If you have any fears,
You'll meet them here,
In Wonderland.
We're all mad here in Wonderland.

Hello, this is wonderland.
Everyone has gone mad.              
If you're normal,
We'll change that.
Welcome to Wonderland.

Why do I put myself in a position to be attached at all?
I  have only set myself up to heights I cannot survive the fall.
Why am I the only one trying to break down your walls?
I have only been moving from one connection to the other.
Why can't I be alone, instead of someone's lover?

Its more than a feeling when its come down to the finish and even a worse one when you realize its time to start yet again.
Like some sick version of twisted game show your always in reach and anytime your desperate the ****
will gather to praise your failure.
The bottle filled glory days a dinosaur who's back id long fell of of trying to stay in the groove simply has left me with more scratches than  I care to speak of so **** the logic in this I preffer a good ******* covred lie instead.

Hell wasnt a fire laced horror theme it was a emptyness beyond anything a normal man could ever imagine.
Good thing I would never fall under that title.

We were somewhere in Maryland the bar a afterthought now and are drunken thoughts had left us silent to
ramble in are own personal hells we tried to convince others didnt exist.
As for the big payoff well .
If half empty shows and being more broke than when you left was a sucess then we were true diamonds at this point.
You give it all out there only to question do you have a home to return to.
And Martin was a wounded solider broken from a quick text once read.
Ive had enough I wont be here when you return.

And as he was broken we did what any self absorbed ******* who couldnt face what could be us would do.
Drown in vices and cracked jokes over are friends misfortune and tried to make sure we didnt get to much of his misery to
**** are buzz.

For me it was the usal some quick drinks some soon to be forgotten conversations with women I'd seldom
recall gotta keep chasing that good time cant let the boys see your reallity or you'd fall and
never do you wanna show weakness in a pack of wolves .

Robert was always the same a crash and burn ****** who started fights and had to be half loaded to even greet the day.
Once I saw the geinus behind what had now became the running joke of the group.
The tide had long since returned to the ocean  and left him trapped apon the shore.

We all knew he was a dead end street but he paid his way and as long as we could scam a few bills from him
we used him without regard it was the worst kind of cutthroat you could imagine.
All in the name of a good laugh.

Being said that only left me and Tony to keep this **** togather we rode long hours and made little money but just like sharks if were still moving with some drugs in are system were still doing good.


My head against the window rains steady rythm kept me company  in this silence I could allow the ******* guard down.
Count the laughs and ignore the bombs  **** it was a bloodthirsty scene in south Boston lastnight.
The crowd intent on breaking you and getting down watred down drinks overprized and as shallow as there
owners for the moment.

Why the **** was I here stuck in a prison with four wheels rolling steady and praying not to get pulled
by the cops and wondering if anyone of us could lie well enough to be trusted to drive **** knows
the best driver had just been hitting the pipe a hour ago.
And I really didnt think my flask in side pocket would be a charming insentive to some officer who hated dealing with a
car filled with drunks and junkies.

So what you boys do?
I could hear this converstaion playing out.
Were comedians  just heading home officer been on the road awhile.
Oh yeah you boys any good?
Well as you can tell from this fantastic 1999 minvan crap mobile were driving  were  a great sucess.
You being a ******* boy?

Some people never get the joke.

The miles passed and soon were bound for are corners.
Off from the battle left only to crawl in
broken down hovels and lick are wounds with whatever drugs we may have left laying around.
And as for me I'd just turn off the lights and sleep.

In the dark nobody touches my often semi burnt out thoughts.

And as the days bled one into the next I'd  tell myself ***** it Im done!.
But bad habbits and that insane thought of what if is a real ******* at times.
And really what else besides the page could ever bring me the misery and false happiness I so desired.

Soon like some worn out race horse id be at the starting gate again I could only run till I drop.
Why do it you may ask?
Cause its just who I am the crowds a drug like any other and that one night of connection
is more of a rush than any needle to arm has ever been.

The finish line never means **** when you know inside.
All that leaves you with is another time to begin.

.that moment, when you realiße... "it's not yet another garry glitter song"... because quiet frankly... you still haven't seen Joker... you're stuffing raw dough into biscuit shapes in a make-shift Tibet... as a raw-treat... and your body is tombstone stiff... but your eyes are on fire and your soul is dancing... synonym parade... because gary glitter can be excused in the same way that: rob halford... rob halford isn't gay... isn't gay the metalheads would otherwise say... but because the song can exist per se... since... a glaring gary is no... jimmy 'the kid-fiddling dj' savile... and he's... no ian watkins... because... if you asked me... rock & roll part II is a gary glitter song? och! ouch! pinch-punch 1st of April is upon us recoil... hell no! i still read marquis de sade... only because by my standards... he's quiet decent... all he ever did wrong was use the imagery of a crucifix as a ***** when asking a ******* to peform the sado-masochistic act of ******* before him... otherwise his phallus was lost in the niqab of the bastille... his uncle though? ah! that's another matter! although: much aggrieved but somehow agreed... you could still buy marquis de sade's novella ****** in London, once upon a time... perhaps you still can... but does that even matter? i am about to get a primer about the Iranian inherent hate for h'america anytime soon... about how h'americans manage to bundle the Persians into the rag-ah-muffin crowd of camel-jockeys and easily replaced arab donors... and those poor iraqis... doing their bit...  who is to forget the phrase: turbanator? i.e. not referring to sikhs... no one besides moi... welcome to l'inglese... the modern lingua franca... and i do feel so sorry so very so very much for the natives that were beither born in Bratford or the rustbelt fly-over states of h'america... if joe biden says: learn to code! guess what i was but wasn't told being ***** from a ******* that was poland come the drop of the iron curtain of the 1990s... coming to the 2020s... me conjuring up the Silicon Curtain?! really? adverse to learn to code... learn a new language! and globalißation will "win"... internationalism already works on a bilingual basis... there's the established language of commerce... which is english... i'm sorry... i'll be kind... "you" will have to move... if not cognitively... then otherwise... i learned yours... learn mine! that's the motto... this is where linguistic nativism comes in... not borrowed time from places like h'america... not some emblem worship... just ol' lil' england... i hope this doesn't reach a wide audience... i am having to consider learning romanian... du-te dracului! that's a starter...

i've found out that, the only way to truly enjoy
a glass of red wine is...
to have also rolled your own tobacco...
and since we're talking the highest quality rolling
tobacco: golden virginia...
after rolling it... you gentle bask it in a lighter's flame
from top to bottom... to warm it up...
so you don't have to finish it off as if *******
through a straw...

that's of course if you're drinking red wine on its own...
but there's a reason why i hanged around
with a few spaniards in the past...
why i went to paris and met this two catalonian
hot-takes... who i later visited in Barcelona...
drank kalimotxo for a while getting ready
to hit the party scene...
was given my first joint in my life...
and... hello lullaby...

next day we toured the sights...
we never made it to the gothic quarter...
or the el reval...
we went into one of those shops
in a shopping mall that sell everything...
that's when i discovered portishead's debut:
dummy all by myself...
and then onto camp nou...
to be honest... throughout all this time...
i felt like a glove...
no really... i felt my company was being...
tested as to whether it could be well worn
and: worn out at a much later date...
i was, what, 19 then?

what will leave me well versed in travel,
jumping continents?
i should really add prague along the line somewhere...
the days when i would solo for a weekend
and never bother with any if at all: precautions...
i can't imagine the sort of trips
my "highschool friends" took...
en masse... and always to a resort -
say, in greece...

the joker scenes are out...
the scene where he's dancing on the stairs...
sounds good... mhmm...
oh... this is gary glitter?
the art has absolutely nothing to do with the artist...
it's not like gary glitter can get away with it...
but... i'm pretty sure he can get away
whereas... ian watkins?
in that crushing defeat of musical genres...
when emo wasn't quiet a thing...
and nu-metal didn't die out...

i'm a cheap ***: all the people are raving /
were raving about a film...
and i'm waiting for the delayed spectacle...
only recently... avengers: end game?
what a major ******...
this "self-aware" introspection into movie
franchises that explore time-travel...
here's an alternative: study chemistry
and get a hippo's ***** ready on the wet
dip... i'm guessing this is a period of time
when: the genre of science fiction will
slowly die off...
i don't see how science fiction can sustain
itself...

- which is always beside the point...
moving on... english... this acquired tongue of
mine...
if only i were so adamant as a czesław miłosz:
had i a translator's worth of shadow,
and baggage running around after me...
like a sacred cow of the Raj...
how did i learn to mitigate?
i don't know... what i do know is...
drinking and habits of listening to music...

it starts off with: listening to some
music using english...
it sooner or later gravitates toward
something in german...
after i tire myself of german lyrics...
i'm heading toward scandinavia...
chances are: i will visit "mother russia"...
but i'll probably sink into
visiting byzantine chants...
once i figured out a way to move
from scandinavian paganism...
work my way past german folk
from the medieval period...
and finally arrive at: αγνη παρθενε...
obviously i will have to stop over
some quasi-folk germanic songs...
northern crusades:
teutonic songs... or the templar songs:

da pacem domine...
pristine times! the drunk carol singers
has sung their bit... there was no rest
for the wicked...
the carol: god rest ye merry, gentlemen
was sang...
reality of the everyday happened
no day shy away from the "celebration"...
i find more comfort in songs
of the templars...
perhaps the gregorians with their calender...
but most certainly the byzantine choir...

of ancient greece and what is known...
what can stand out from byzantine greece?
except from: byzantine bureaucracy?
counting knots in the fish-net stocking
on a centipede crawling out of a harem?

my musical diet: when i drink...
i can't listen to music when english is involved:
for too long a "passing" of: enjoying it...
i grow a beard and satan mount
a throne of wood and amber...
fiddling with it like a mad maestro that
has been given 100 violins and no...
woodwinds... and this is my "orchestra"...
a beard... crux of central europe:
with the zenith on the border of the river
Oder...

i do wonder what this scenario would look like;
if the girl gambled otherwise...
the pretty-****-pick sent by my offspring...
or my full-crop of hair...
and a beard... ***** envy can hardly be
a social events on the pedestrian stage...
but cranium envy?

the diet for a session begins...
it has to begin in english...
but who knows where i'm otherwise willing
to lend an ear to?
i can't be stuck with music i can understand
lyrically...
if i can't understand how to compose music...
well i did once know how to play
the ***-ar... and worked a nightclub
for a mandolin: just to serenade a Fiona
from a window a maggie may by:
rod-it stuart in edinburgh... once...

how romantic of anyone...
hell... this is still in english?
why aren't i pulling the strings of a czesław miłosz
and not retaining my nativspreschen?
why? i love to tickle german...
i love to tickle deutsche more than i care
for speaking english, or... rather...
writing in it...
but unlike a czesław miłosz... i didn't bring
a linguistic ghetto with me...
i don't have a ****** ghetto to go to...
perhaps... if i mingled with enough
of my "fellow", "countrymen"...
much easier said than done: if you're Irish...
and the only THing you have to worry
about is... diacritical nuance...
the THing, the Θing... is an english:
what the irish consider to be a surd affair...
T'h'ING... it's a t'ing... not ******* F even
if you looked at it with a bollocking of
a microscope, either!

- and this once high-school "fwend" once suggested...
'maybe you should go and find your own
fellow countrymen'...
who the **** do i look like? paddy?
an arab, an iranian, an italian...
or some *****-cheeky-cheese-brigade of sorts?!
my, "fellow" and "countrymen"...
on foreign soil? em... allegience to who?
i have severed my ties with Poland...
i keep my ties with Poland on the basis that:
my grandfather and grandmother are still
alive... when i visit them...
i don't expect them to be into this whole:
post-nationalism: internationalism non-nationalism
globalisation gimmick of: at least,
at least the modern lingua franca:
which is the l'inglese....
because... quiet frankly? i have a stash of:
mutterzunge bubbling beneath what's being written,
with some mongrel-german and mongrel-russia
auxilliary...

ah... the natives of the english tongue...
well... it's quiet expansive...
it can go beyond encompassing merely england...
it can go so far as to tread over scottish gaelic...
somewhat irish gaelic too...
only zee Velsh... seem to be... W: whistling free
in their linguistic stand-off...
who the hell even bothers to hear
about any scottish gaelic?
there's only gaelic gaelic: irish gaelic...
and there's welsh...
scotch gaelic? huh? apart from: a wee this
and a wee that?
*******... tartan and god's **** *******
of beer and the side-trash-dish of the savior
of whiskey in a gulp of ms. amber's **** juices
from a...
one of those distilleries...
that served up a whiskey tokaj whiskey...
i still remember the picture...
a girl i was dating took the picture...
in front of her a belarusian jew cosmo...
to her left... a russian looking into the glass
of whiskey with some philosiphical insight
begging to come out...
to her right... a dog ****** with his nose
in the matter...

figures... the ****** will sniff **** out...
the russian will: peer into the glass
for some "magical" insight...
philosophy or what not...

as if insuating: concerning the "little" people
of europe...
unlike the portugese, the spanish,
the italians or the greeks: acronym: PIGS...
but i least i'm no czesław miłosz:
i don't need to move to cam'cam'h'america
with a language in tow:
for some sort of lesson of: preserving roots
for a tree...
my version is apparently:
the bad integration strategy...
esp. on paper...
why would i still retain my tongue...
on paper... in this medium...
citizen ist citizen:
bürger ist bürger ist mir!

heaven behold i have to use alt sächsisch vaterzunge
to speak to the grünschnabel...
i fear for the natives of this tongue:
esp. since hiding behind the stipend of:
the empire upon which the sun never sets...
to have to hide behind a cultural import
from h'america...
or australia... is what gives rise to these
pseudo-communist grey areas of Bratford...
or Islam-came-ah-knocking in
Rotherham...

even i have to escape this...
this l'inglese... this new frontier of...
no frontier at all: except for the skull moon...
and baggage of frohlicht!

is priti patel a civic nationalist?
well i'd be ******* sterile if i didn't say:
a babe with class any loser in
my vicinity said: a banger...
if priti patel is not a civic nationalist...
then i'm not in england...
i'm nowhere...
******* banging bunny... anyways...
and the first time i managed to ******
a black girl for a quickie...
it took just the right amount of cocktails and...
enough coccyx banging into my pelvis that...
i... almost wished for a 12" ****
and the "proper *****"...
no... really... imagine a black girl mixed with...
a stick insect... and you just so happen
to have served her up...
a genuis concoction of cocktails...
the coccyx is bound to appear...
alligned to your poor-pelvis plum-sore...
one time or another:
no ***** envy in sight...

hence my "wish"... give me the 12" cod...
and enough plump *** as that will allow...
otherwise: no...
i would still like to imagine being
circumcised via the orthodox methods:
of a rabbi... not via some over-*******...

why am i writing about this with such fondness?
em... 21... nearing 34...
i can count... how many times i've had ***...
using only my fingers...
that's beside counting the prostitutes...
which... when you forget to trim your ***** hair
and you just end up kissing for an hour...
kissing prostitutes: what a noble affair...
bumble, trumble, tumble, twitter, bitter...
grinder... tinder... don't know:
i can't remember having owned a smartphone...
or a mobile...
that ambition died when:
i was left with calls 10 minutes from a meeting
for a pint... on a bus...

that's... 34 - 21... 13 years with sporadic
casual *** patterns...
oh and that thai bisexual girl... woman...
boy... i picked up from a park bench...
we listened to some jazz... drank some beers...
"weaped"... then had a cigarette in the garden
and ****** while i was kept in suspence...
honestly: i didn't know what i was getting myself
into... it was a thai surprise moment...
sports bra... and... until i reached into
the nadir of the zenith did i find out...
phew... no pronoun debauchery...

13 years and the sort of *** life that could
be celebrated by a *******
harriet turtles of the islands of galapagos...
while, around me, in the vicinity:
kama surtras left right and center!
why would i drift toward...
scandinavian pagan songs...
byzantine chants... crusader anthems?
i don't know: it's hard to punctuate
ridicule into that sentence... ridicule and irony...
self-depreciating humor...

- 'music was terrible in the 2010s'...
perhaps... except of a ****** band: LAO CHE...
i will still be punching myself over
my sentiments...
and "they" can come and speak english
like it's "theirs"...
but at the same time... not be "english" at
the same time...
perhaps it's the north h'american conundrum
of patriotism with the old continent
sentiment "for" nationalism...
perhaps if we all speak this one
magical language...
we can still find ourselves
with unboxing cues in a bazar in Tehran...

and they were Persians before
the Arab camel-jockeys came...
and that spirit of poetry died
and the old antagonism with the Greeks:
too died...
arab camel-jockeys with their... sole book...
and enough time...
enough time to see them sitting on
an iceberg of dinosaur crude fuel...
that truly was and is a miracle...
i still don't see why the Ottomans wouldn't
want to treat the camel-jockeys as they
should have to have prospered:
since no Lawrence would ever come from
ottoman Istambul...

but oh oh: tuba büyüküstün the god-smacker
and the slow death of martyrs' promised: harems...
even a slow-to-understand man
can find his solomon and his queen of sheba...
somehow, "somewhere"...

so much for drinking some wine...
and: it's not like speaking the truth, drunk,
managed to get anyone into trouble...
perhaps the "kind" alternative?
nietzsche on barbiturates?

i sometimes wish i could be alligned
to a female sort of companionship...
without the immediate awe-struck beauty parallel
with: what's actually beneath being
awe-struck... but no...
i will have to do my best with dogs,
cats, the odd fox... and pyramids and pyramids
of stacked ms. amber bottles...

wine and the gods' anemia... or haemophilia...
i never which one it is...
i almost wish i could sentence myself
to the banal grey-ish merger of:
the everyday with a woman...
but... alas... i still have a mother...
and i'm still unsure about the times
when she's lying or telling the truth...
but, given, she's my mother...
i allow her the benefit of the doubt...
having a mother is enough to:

going down the river of keeping a woman
company: in company that precludes
having *** with her...
bad grammar or just the unnecessary word:
precludes...

it's enough to be in a company of a woman
you can't have *** with...
and quiet another...
to be in a company... you can have *** with...
this "can" will probably never
arrive at the sober conclusion of:
you "might" or... that you even "will"...
i guess the antithesis of gambling came
when prostitution wasn't allowed...
a man sought alternatives...
50p bet and all the thrills....
that... yep... 110 quid an hour would never give...
gambling and *******...
the siamese child of desolation of
Moloch and his bride: Ursula (usury)...

what's that "motto"? when the fun stops: stop?
here's a way to figure it out:
see a ***** before you start gambling...
and when you gamble...
bet for a quarter... less than but equal to / no more
than a pound...
i've started to bet on football results:
a win... and the other team also scores...
i managed to find a bet accumulator...
that would leave me off...
over 200K richer... from having bet a pound...

like i once mentioned...
the 3Ps of today's clinical "advice"...
there's the priest... n'ah...
there's the psychiatrist (you'll want to see him
first, seeing a psychologist is pointless...
he has no prescriptive authority...
he's no big pharma loved-up yuppy sort of...
gwy)...
or there's the *******...
priest, psychiatrist... *******...
i did the priestly bit when i visited
a monestary in France, Taize...
i was young and the hormones weren't kicking in,
just yet, and i would have stayed...
but i wasn't rich enough to buy myself
a place at that, kind of, prestigious "university"...

psychologists and psychiatrists...
what the tongue can't lick or taste:
a tongue can't heal...
talk talk talk... but no: suma summarum:
no oeuvre momentum...

prostitutes and betting habbits it was...
settled...
this one maroccan colt with his one maxim:
there's no water in a desert...
ever see more water than that in a puddle
in a concrete jungle?
and that's hoping for: evian...
tapeworm free water... ever?!

so much for tinder...
and so much for... ahem... adverts: ok cupid...
claustrophobic dating advice with no
spares...
if you can't pick them up fresh
from a park bench of uncertainty waiting
for that, that thai surprise?
so much for being a h'american...
and a *** tourist... in Odessa...
of Kiev... or getting milked for the bogus
*****-****-thrill of it:
to genesis the whole model escapade of:
dosh stashed in a porky inch-by-inch
leather itch of: spend spend spend!

There is a moment in which I inhale,
that makes me feel in control.
I see it burning at the tip
and what I feel is the burning in my throat.
There is not shame or regret that comes to my attention when I exhale.
I feel relieved.

Reckless habbits destroy the dying chance for children.
Worthless yells wont be heard.
Because we shutndown our compassion.
Over eight hundread thousand mortgages,
Double the car payments,
Tripple tuition,
And end homeland security.
We shut down.
I **** you not we had to do it.
I can scream
I can say spending went to far.
But I wont get recalled
because my aid was furloughed.
Im a ***** an orange *****.
Ill kiss vetrens.
Ill find ways to  open
the gates I closed.
Im captain of this ship.
And I will fix anything that
Leaks with red tape.
Wait till october.
Because ill show you
who the teorist really are.
I want equality for every
minimum wage worker
in kentucky.  I need your vote for
2016.  My name Is independemce.
Im the ******* who couldnt
represent a bad ****.  Ill blame obama,
Ill fake my death before ever realizing
Ideals make ****** outcomes.
Your family will raise their family.
While my family pinches grapes off
of trees everyone else sweated for.
Ill promise people wine.  But im really
just a sour cup of juice.  Im your snivelling congressman.
And I had nothing to do with incompliance.
Im just trying to make a point.  And I still get paid even
when we pretend.

Tired of the same old scenes around here.
Thought hey im gonna explore space.
Introduce Little space dudes to bad habbits
nudie mags and maybe share a beer.

Yeah it'll take some getting use to
anti gravity bars.
Pack up the whiskey and of course the kids
honey cause were moving to mars.

People kinda look at me like my
mind did slip.
just cause im going round collecting cans.
Hell with what else are ya supposed use to
build a spaceship.

I made a few changes it runs of corn whiskey
instead of rocket fuel.
You might think im crazy.
but when my home made rocket takes off
it'll be cool.

Say goodbye kids to your ***** grandfather Bert.
Hey darlin from up here I can see down your shirt.

It's three seconds to lift off people
ya might wanna move your houses as well as cars.
Cause lord knows whats gonna happen.
in my attempt to move to mars.

Its time for lift off crap honey do ya mind lighting
fuse.
Hey kids after this maybe we'll get a reality
show.
I mean if we dont die  that would only make the local
news.

The homade rocket ship rattle and shook.
I knew i forgot something I mean it's a minor thing.
Steering wheels are overrated guess I should have got a book.

And as it lifted off into the sky.
I screamed like a little girl.
I forgot I was affraid to fly.

Yes I kinda fell short on my quest to the stars.
cause i crash landed in New Jersy.
Well kids sorry but Atlantic City is probaly
a bit more fun for daddy that is.
So much for moving to Mars.

The world is full of bears and rabbits.
Migrating in caves and starting bad habbits.
If one should eat the others flesh,
would they take on another distress?
For when you crawl inside a stranger's skin
the world seems more or less in sin.
And though your heart may seem more pure
don't make the assumption,
"I'm here to cure."...

The ******* beings in the shade
can't understand why leaves can fade
and whsipering children in the sun
are puzzled by why shadows run.
Look to the west, look to the east,
there waits a grand and splendid feast.
Gaze to the north,
gaze to the south
and let the silence fill your mouth.
We all are children of the green
whose faces will remain unseen.
So try to see a different view
besides what settles just for you.

Thought are not suppose to be bottled.So I pour my *** down the sink when I think, it runs down,and I **** away the world afflictions, cause its bigger than my shrink.Hard to blink cause my addiction is I stare into space tryna find my place.To be libra, even with the ying yang cause its constant battle in my cerebral.
Dealin with neglectful people,resultin with me to project hate towards the one I call fam.
****!
I should crucify my hands cause its writtin so much sin from heart.Its truely hard to be positive cause im always dwellin in the dark.
I feel thats what my only option is.
Haunted by the future, dreamin bout the past,tryin to recover, and exhume feelings to rid of that never last.Cause I dont want  stained names writtin on my heart cast growin pains maken me nuts, groin pains.
I want no part of that!
Sometimes I wanna die of a broken heart attack.Beating too seperate pulses on the screen, watch  it get flatlined and silent like my hopes and dreams.
pshhh **** this self esteem!
I been bullied at young,laugh at cause I was fat and dumb,always askin for theyre pizza crust nd crumbs.Always picked last and never won not once.
But I aint done,lost my father, young and I wasnt a good son.Im his off spring that sprung with mean gene son.Him a Drug addict, im the pain addict,I inject the hate habbits an cry in my own attic.
Hopin for a dragon tails, or some
Harry potter magic.
At night I see father & son commercials on the tv screen, I cringe, cause I remember thinking one day thatll be me.To have some  sorta memory of the dAy that we meet.But it never came to pass or be. No sir-ree!  he was notorious, but all he gave me was a  missed calls and birthday wishes never granted, and dead dreams.And a ache, that came with me when I left the nursery the day I was born.
Breathless, a severe asthmatic. Abnia child,who eventually  grew wild,while with no father to tell him to sit down! Im AdHd I cant keep calm! Ima a pessimisst with thoughts in my
Mind that storms from night till dawn.
All about christ,with nails as the  pen in my palms.Reading the psalms,to keep strong but im still weak ,a lefty doin right is wrong.
Still keep my heart on my arm I still flex  nd rep love till packed solid like abs and pecs. But just give a nine or tech, to shoot bullet notes.The ology of knowing me, is a study of a SOB.. Shortness of breath...


Lost in direction I need a pointer,
And eyes cause im walkin wrong,
No seein
Not believing


-Deep Thought

Feeding bad habbits with love,
and rotten tree stumps with alcohol mixed ***** and *****.

Gasp for air,
breathe in poison,
exhale C^02
and bad dreams.

******* with death
and disillusioned junkies desperate for one last hit.

Fall forward,
catch yourself,
repeat until you have
and reached your destination.

Breeding hope
and sadness until you're not sure what you're hoping for
and what you're sad about.

Sleep alone,
wake up alone,
and spend all day searching
for someone to be alone with.

Josue was a young boy growing up in a really ghetto part of town
When he was born his dad left his mom and he grew up without a father
At a young age while his brothers where all joining gangs and selling drugs he was getting academic awards at school
Even though his mom never really cared about any of his achievements or was never really there for him at all his aunt persuaded him to continue doing good
So it was from there on that he started getting good grades in every subject throughout elementary school
Josue gratuated the 5th grade with the highest honors
He promised his aunt he would grow up to be a good boy and not turn out like his brothers
But that didnt last long
His aunt died during his sixth grade year and he started living with his mother and his new step dad
Pretty soon he felt like he was a stranger in his own home
His step father started putting him down and threatening him meanwhile his mother didnt care
Teachers started to grade his assignments harshly because they didnt like him
At school he started hooking up with the wrong crowds
The lack of love and the accumulationo hatred made Josue take up bad habbits
Josue started ditching often and stealing occasionally
Soon he forgot all about his grades and achievements and started to drink and do drugs
After a while his mom kicked him out of the house
Soon later josue joined a gang and started dealing drugs
His life got bad after that
He started getting arrested often
Soon no one even came to visit him in prison then one day while he was serving a 5 year scentence a package arrived
It was a package from his aunt that would have been delivered approximatly 10 years after her death
Inside where old letters and achievements
Many of the things inside brought back memories of Josues youth
Soon he started crying and remembering everything
Then he found an important letter
An old letter it said " ill allways be good ill never do harm ill allways be yours aunty"
Josue swelled up with emotion
He started yelling and crying
He started punching the walls of his cell
He knew what he had done
He had become the man he never wanted to become
The guards took him to his cell
That afternoon Josue prayed for 2 hours
After he finished praying at midnight he hung himself
The next morning when the guards came in they picked up his suicide note
It said "I no longer wish to live. I broke a promise a promise that would have shaped my life a diffrent way. Now I have nothing to look forward too but death, so i decided to speed time up and go at midnight. The only one to blame foot suicide is the lack of love. Maybe if I just head mom there out would be diffrent. Maybe if there was something or someone to look after me out would have all been diffrent. I will soon be with the only person who brought joy love and passion into my life. Pray i make it to heaven amen"



This tragedy could have all been avoided with love. Give love not hate. Make this world a better place

I thougth you’d give me the chance to write of Love
The kind to brake the habbits that kept the others at bay
I beileve you are someone who could make my rosy thoughts a reality
But you won’t be doing this for me


Was I just something to be soaked up
To bring you up and make you laugh
You can’t understand the way your eyes led me on
I swear I saw it in the way you looked at me
It was like the foot between us was too much to bear
I swore I could feel you holding back

You told me once that we all need affection
But what else do you need?
I thougth you’d give me the chance to write of Love
The kind that would make others jealous
The kind that would make me blush from the inside out

"alone : whether you like it or not,
alone will be something you'll be quite a lot"

is what Dr. Seuss said.

and I am hanging on a very loose thread.

I am falling.

deep.

it hurts with every breath I take

have you ever loved anyone so much
you wanted to scratch your eyes out
because they are the window to your soul
and you were afraid the person you love
will want to jump out of that window?

simply because they are not bold enough
to take you just the way you are...

with all your nasty habbits

when every look they give you

cuts deeper pain
the kind of pain
not even the rain can...

wash away.

you just want to write everything that ever happened to you on one big pile of papers
and BURN IT
before someone can read it.

BURN IT

because you HAVE TO believe
it will make it better.

until you wake up next morning
seeing nothing changed

and the pain is still the same...

I messed up again
Why, I'm just a big flaw

Slowly, degrading in meaning
Losing the 'significant'

Like a word with no definition
It's just me, messing up again

Rolling back to old habbits
Never learning

You remind me darling, of a dream I once had
I was fishing by the river, with a rod in my hand
From my pocket fell a penny and hid in the grass
and from the fields next door I could hear the children laugh
I closed my eyes and I tipped back my head
Remember when me and Maggie lay together in bed
And the only sound made was the rustling of the sheets
And the cats in the alley fighting out in the street
Maggie told me her sins and I washed them away
Maggie begged me to hold her and like children we played
Unsusre of ourselves or what we should do
I asked for her forgiveness, Maggie said I forgive you
She reminded me of a story I knew
Where the odd behavior or the lunatic and fool
As they danced together in the crimson sunlight
Me and my Maggie hid right out of site
I smile to myself as I remember those days
I remember old habbits and funny old ways
I think of the days when my bones used to work
And my teeth were my own and I had many girls
But these days, my eyes see shorter than they did
And I sometimes think Davey, aint life so ****
The way that person you were feels like an old movie star
And the memories you have of cold nights in your car
Feel so far away but yet they feel so close
And those memories haunt you like a ghost
Until all that’s left is a chair and a rod
And the muddy foot holes in the fields where you trod
And at the end of the day I sit here wasting away
With a rod in my hand throwing penny’s in the lake
Listening to children laugh, to the wind as she blows
Remember thinking will Maggie love me this much when I’m old

I wanted to be as
important
as that
ashtray
you tend to carry all around the
house,
not just the ash it collects, eventually being
dumped
        into
             the
                           trash,
along with all of your other
bad habbits.
I tried to replace that
cigarette
with my
fingers,
but no one will ever be
good enough
to hold your
hand.
The
                      smoke
is the only thing that has
ever
reached beneath your
rib cages.
Anything else that has
tried
has never ventured back alright.

habbits don't all show through daily
Like a nail biter
Or the drug addict fighter
Unlike the masterbater
Some are shown over time
Like mine
all the betrayals
All the heartbreaks
All the times I sent a (:
When I knew.. It would lead her on
Or all the times
Hopes were built up
When they should have never been
Or thinkin more of me and I
Than of her and they
My habit is to be me
Which is awful as any person can be

Horse
Magic
Skilled rabbit
Pocus
Pizzazz
Lipstick
Bra
Forgetfulness
Habbits
Rambunctious
Pandamon­ious
For skin
Labels
Misguided heart
Wrong turn taken
Abandoned
Abused
Looked after
Stolen
Virginity
To heaven
Extreme
Behavior swings
Cool
Dude
Out
Can camaflouge
All his feelings
Just so
They don't
Get stolen

Old habbits die hard
There are thoughts on my mind
One thing I need to learn
Is the power of control
To lose oneself in someone else
Used to make a lot of sence
I never felt this way before
To be locked out will work no more
I have the key to my own soul
Picked up the pieces on my own
Back in touch with my emotions lately
Faced my fears, no need to save me.

The crunch of the cans
as you step on the pain,
quietly
Your innocent smile faded,
then crushed as you
become what you thought you’d never be
An image of youth destroyed
with a crash and your
fragile heart broken with it

There’s no going back now,
once you’re in you’re in
Don’t waste it, they say
have fun
but stay  safe, don’t  be  stupid
How? How do I do both?

Visions are shattered like glass
as our hopes
and dreams become drunken
nights of slurred words and
sorried beer regretted like
the sips from a ***** bottle
Mistakes of a night you
enjoyed but the next day
fail to recognise or remember
the person you were. Pretending,
we all are. Sticking together
in this fight of crying and
laughing and confusion of
who we are and why
Intoxicated tears on each
others shoulders
weeping about how it came
to this. This is our age, our life
Streams of liquid which will
make us okay. It’s okay,
right?

Clearness and purity which
we’ll never be, the transparent
glass reveals our souls
without discreet deception
of a stable mind
Some enjoy it, some don’t
But we can never know
Because it’s all a mask
‘I love you’ uttered in
a battered corridor behind
the secrets carried
on our backs. Heavy,
distorted, many memories
and problems  of the
mundane mind,
ruined by a screen that
shows nothing but jealousy
and grief but we bathe in it
like the water we drink
At the end of the night
we return to bed and
the room spins
The other liquid will make
us okay

In the day the sun is bright
and some prefer to be alone,
others can’t. The endless
reliance on friends as
families crumble
We follow a rhythm for
guidance, until the song
ends
And then home again.
The smell of smoke clings
bitterly to our clothes like
the habbits we maintain

We try but can’t escape
It. This is youth. Stuck
is what we are. Frozen
in the cold. The warmth
of the home that few of
us have is only comfort.
If we’re not loved it’s not
home so some escape
to anothers and are torn
seeing what’s not theirs
You fail to understand
fail to see
what really lies beneath
the exterior of annoyance
and trouble
Open your eyes
this is dark
We cause trouble because
we are troubled

the world can grow dark when we are weary

and the candle can seem so dim when we won't struggle to see anymore

and that fear that keeps you in your box tighltly locked

its isnt real. well, not all of it anyway

and when you stop and find yourself in a moment

choose what that moment will be

own it  form it control it. and the next one and the next

wear yourself a groove to safely traverse you way like a ****** in a dam

break those old habbits record over those old tapes

find new doors or build them and push through in every way

leave behind those that think they own your rights

walk away never looking back.

if they want you they will come find you

fill your heart with a mission

look around and find your passion

be bold

be brave

and never regret the steps you take on your way to your grave

only the ones that you didnt take

because no passion ever lived there.

I haven't been fine in months
Habbits come easy
But die so hard
By now the seasons have changed
And all my plans rearranged
To fit this one

And I, have been searching for something
And now, that I've found it I'll never let go

I came in out of the cold
You got me out of my clothes
I swear to God I've been waiting for this all my life
The bottles filled to the brim
But now its empty again
I swear to God I've been waiting for this all my life
"I spent forever looking up at the stars till I finally found what I was looking for her eyes"

I bit my bottom lip
On some corn on the cob
Smothered some coconut oil in my hair
My phone chiming and humming away
A new man coos my name
But he is states and career miles away.

Its so good to be home
Though a car alarm periodically goes off and on
I didn't step foot outside
Until approximately 7pm
Couldn't run, walked and talked
To myself, self love, self comfort
I remember so vividly the fog that surrounded me
The gloominess of the dark haze
As I watched your white tennis shoes
Walk away.

You have been on my mind today
As you proceed to walk in circles
Ask everyone but me, how it went
I talked to my mother on the phone for over an hour
Unpacking from the soil, the immense green leaves
And how I so hoped to lead with an open heart
And come back with a cleansed soul.

I see and feel in my bones
That I've experienced a capsule whole of a moment
Intimate, difficult, challenging, visceral, and cathartic
All ending in one big swoop of a wet summer kiss
I'll always remember how good it felt
As your lips devoured mine
And the way we both swallowed the lumps in our throats
And sighed
As we stared into each others eyes
Engulfing each new moment, each new trinket
Talk about refreshing.

And like the catapult of my mind
I remember for the millionth time
How this time last year I convinced myself
With such astute demeanor
That you could possibly be the one
My hair a home cooked colorful meal
I spent every night
Creating a FaceTime dream world with you
As you called me on the phone
Your raspy chalk board nail voice
I so longed to adore
I never knew you would turn around
And decide with one large hand of time
That the easiest way to combat
Me
Was to simply rinse the unicorn swan queen
Away.

But you know in your heart of hearts
I live on your ankle.

Year 2.
Embarking and blossoming into year 2
I tell my mother I don't know what it will all bring
Sometimes I feel an immense panic that I have no idea
Drawn to yet another actor
But I couldn't and can't get over the way your eyes looked
Looking at me
And for once
I felt like we both ate each other up
Equally.

I don't know what it means
Old habbits die hard
I heard the phrase I use to echo and say
Drew in a ****** glaze
"I don't know"
Told a lover with a keenness
That phrase appears in all of my poetry
Like I was a prophet
Waiting for him to read the Bible of our love.

"There was so much there. A lot more. I keep thinking about the way you'd look at me."

How good it felt and feels
To have sunk my teeth into something
Where the man doesn't see me as a side prize.

I still don't know what it means
Or where my life will lead
But the car alarm outside
Goes on and off
And I'm just happy to have a night
With little ole me.

When I arrive home
And you are full of whiskey
And I am full of doubts
I always have the feeling
The universe is trying to tell me something.

Maybe I should leave the doubts behind
And Start with the whiskey