check mate, dirty fool. Play by the rules
lacking all flaws
our pieces are pawns
we're nothing but wrong in this indefinite song of where
& when we'll belong
Why don't you go suck a fuck?
Steal these words
Borrow then recycle
Give thanks we're not the only ones
your secret's safe with me
Thursday, August 5, 2010
writing on the walls
This is Artists 101. That's the writing on top of the door. Waiting lines. I'd walk through fire and coal just to steal a glance. I'd like to show my face in the light, not shift with shadows like a friendly thief. Show some teeth without crooked retribution.
Smooth roads ahead: freight train followed by other cars; baggage packed in the very back, carried a long way and still comin' along strong.
Say hello to angels. Wave hi to haters. Revenge of the Geeks: coming soon, to a reality near you! Go home and stay, for your memory haunts the brightest day
Come around sometime, when the sky is dark and the stars light up a canvas left blank; (moon-shine); thief of time, King of Lies, go write your own rhymes.
Smooth roads ahead: freight train followed by other cars; baggage packed in the very back, carried a long way and still comin' along strong.
Say hello to angels. Wave hi to haters. Revenge of the Geeks: coming soon, to a reality near you! Go home and stay, for your memory haunts the brightest day
Come around sometime, when the sky is dark and the stars light up a canvas left blank; (moon-shine); thief of time, King of Lies, go write your own rhymes.
Monday, November 9, 2009
if you seek amy
Inspiration is slim. In every sense of the word. It appears in random flashes vicariously. At different times during any given day I find myself taking a step back; retorting from the given reality that has formed itself through each decision, each question asked, each weakness omitted. I find myself wondering why failure overrules success, why I feign to fuck it up. Thinking is just another way of escape. It's a catch 22, really. No choice but to be a mindless drone, either way you're fucked. In every sense of the word.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
gordian's knot
She’s such a fucking bitch sometimes. I wonder if she’s actually listening to me, I wonder if she’s manipulating me or if I’m manipulating her.
I seem to be confused, like some rock star in disguise as a poser, a musician posed as a question; awkwardly standing, like a cocaine model with blond hair and the blankets with dusty chins covering lazy footsteps. We’re not friends anymore, you ignore my calls, you don’t want to talk to me. But I’m hanging on to every last word.
“It’s Friday the thirteeth.” Ah, what day is it again? What was that Halloween, the day we first met? You were a horse that I rode into the world unseen, into the depths of confusion.
To the time when flutes and clubs listened instead of being heard.
Back to the place where life is death and beauty is not physically painted, like a portrait.
Like a painting that cannot be expressed in words or vowels, nor can be it understood within the confines of a look, that twisted smile on your face--
Bring me back to the subtle line that divided right from wrong. Take me back to that dreamless phase, one step ahead of the game. Turn it around, it's all my fault, static shook the sound reverberating from our fingertips,
this is all what you want me to believe.
He couldn't explain, we got out too quick, too suddenly, as if saying goodbye became part of the routine.
He couldn't deny thinking it would not be the last, just another plea to reverse the sakes. Switch positions then split.
We got out just in time and
the joke's still on me.
Sometimes I feel as if I’m being swept underneath the tidal waves by a force without a title, forced to join the flock in a mediocre ebb and flow.
Sometimes it's too damn easy to say how you feel, there's no honest way to avoid competition.
“We met at this time in your life for a reason.” Oh, that’s enough. There’s something so condescending about your mind-fuck. The game of who can be more honest, more sterile.
If my thoughts precede what has already happen, I can understand why I am labeled crazy as of now. They can think I’m crazy. Or weird. Or any other dismissive term that has been drilled into the mind's of average people, waiting for an outsider to step aside from the confines of what is "acceptable" and "appropriate". Safe. They can feed me diagnosis like its their job. Oh wait, it is their job! To define my teenage angst as depression or bipolar disorder. His words coming out of my mouth again, how many times have I crossed these grounds before?
I go in and out of reality, in and out of a state of dreaming.
Sometimes I act, sometimes I pose, sometimes I play the role of another's soul
For the time being
He told me not to get lost in it. He sang to me, like an old polish couple walking down the street. You won’t understand the tone of their voice because they speak in a different tongue.
Something different is happening, I jumped on it and am in the waiting line, preparing for the next step to follow. No conclusion adequate enough to put the pieces back together, then separated again. It kills me, really.
Monday, February 9, 2009
How soon is now? (written 3/09)
"I don't believe lies anymore."
Tick-tock, this is the sound of clock fucking. Black black, this is the sound of my voice, the essence of nothingness, the absence of dependence, co-existence. Crashing back into picket-fence symmetry, the scenery so deceiving. Smack down, palms down, ass up in the grass of a calm, winter evening and I’m alive again, alive again, so Alive.
We knew each other when we were younger. When we were still innocent, pure, unable to cause harm. I’m still just a juror.
How can I be both narrator and story? Both submissive and objective? Taking turns on loving the other more, the balance has never been more intolerable. Taking turns on saying goodbye one last time,
it's out of my hands.
THINK ABOUT IT.
He spoke but a whisper: loud and clear to the ones with their heads above sea-level. Orange rhymes with orange and I don't give a damn.
Tick-tock, this is the sound of clock fucking. Black black, this is the sound of my voice, the essence of nothingness, the absence of dependence, co-existence. Crashing back into picket-fence symmetry, the scenery so deceiving. Smack down, palms down, ass up in the grass of a calm, winter evening and I’m alive again, alive again, so Alive.
We knew each other when we were younger. When we were still innocent, pure, unable to cause harm. I’m still just a juror.
How can I be both narrator and story? Both submissive and objective? Taking turns on loving the other more, the balance has never been more intolerable. Taking turns on saying goodbye one last time,
it's out of my hands.
THINK ABOUT IT.
He spoke but a whisper: loud and clear to the ones with their heads above sea-level. Orange rhymes with orange and I don't give a damn.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Are you pro-life or pro-choice? Or both?
It's a beautiful day to be alive. It's a beautiful day to make choices. Everyday I live and make choices. I made a choice not to sleep. I made a choice to take advantage of the beautiful mania to speak my mind. I made a choice to let myself sleep because it's necessary to nourish oneself. It's necessary to maintain control, and I feel all the more powerful now. Making choices is powerful.
I am pro-life because I enjoy living life. There is a reason in which I was placed on this earth beyond what I could ever fathom, but I am here despite that misunderstanding.
Every day I enjoy living.
I'm sure most people can agree with that. Even if one doesn't live their lives to the fullest extent possible, that can be changed. Anything can be changed.
Being pro-life and being pro-choice shouldn't have anything to do with abortion. Living life and making choices are both equally important. In fact, one cannot be alive without making choices.
A woman should have the right to choose, I'm not arguing that but it's a completely different issue. A woman should have the right to make choices having to do with her body. A woman should have the right to fuck and enjoy it just as much as guys do.
Mistakes happen; a condom could break, and birth control isn't 100% affective in making a woman become less fertile.
A woman can make the choices not to have sex. A woman can make the choice to be careful and smart while choosing a mate. A woman can chose to become pregnant, even subconsciously. A woman can choose to keep her baby live, even if she's too young to give that baby the life it deserves. A woman can choose to put a baby up for adoption.
People who are adopted aren't as angry about it as you might think. Anthony was adopted, and he's pretty angry but so is everyone. We all have our reasons.
A woman can choose to give another human being life, and that's fucking powerful. A woman can choose to enjoy living life, as I have. A woman can choose to make choices. A woman can choose to be proud of her womanhood while being in a romantic relationship. A woman can choose to accept her mate's manhood, or womanhood for that matter.
Abortion shouldn't be about pro-life or pro-choice.
I am pro-life because I enjoy living life. There is a reason in which I was placed on this earth beyond what I could ever fathom, but I am here despite that misunderstanding.
Every day I enjoy living.
I'm sure most people can agree with that. Even if one doesn't live their lives to the fullest extent possible, that can be changed. Anything can be changed.
Being pro-life and being pro-choice shouldn't have anything to do with abortion. Living life and making choices are both equally important. In fact, one cannot be alive without making choices.
A woman should have the right to choose, I'm not arguing that but it's a completely different issue. A woman should have the right to make choices having to do with her body. A woman should have the right to fuck and enjoy it just as much as guys do.
Mistakes happen; a condom could break, and birth control isn't 100% affective in making a woman become less fertile.
A woman can make the choices not to have sex. A woman can make the choice to be careful and smart while choosing a mate. A woman can chose to become pregnant, even subconsciously. A woman can choose to keep her baby live, even if she's too young to give that baby the life it deserves. A woman can choose to put a baby up for adoption.
People who are adopted aren't as angry about it as you might think. Anthony was adopted, and he's pretty angry but so is everyone. We all have our reasons.
A woman can choose to give another human being life, and that's fucking powerful. A woman can choose to enjoy living life, as I have. A woman can choose to make choices. A woman can choose to be proud of her womanhood while being in a romantic relationship. A woman can choose to accept her mate's manhood, or womanhood for that matter.
Abortion shouldn't be about pro-life or pro-choice.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Jimmy cracks corn, and I really don't give a shit.
I wish I was younger again. My friend Mike and I just found some old videos that we made when we were younger. We made them in elementary school... when things were still genuinely free. Yeah, there was the occasional drama on the playground, but some things never really change. We're still children, we're always going to be children; ignorant, care-free, wanting to learn.
Mike and I have tried finding this particular video for years. Tonight, we happened to find it. By chance... or maybe not. Everything happens for a reason I guess. That video symbolizes our friendship in so many ways, and it almost felt like irony that we happened to actually find the video in the first place. It was a coincidence. We both wanted it to happen but did not go out of our way to find it, consciously at least.
"Red Eye"
We were so original that some big-time producer thought of the same name for a movie they made, and named it that. But after the fact of making the video, a few years after I think. Which means.. we're more original than the big-time producers, we thought of the idea first. Making videos was a creative outlet for us, to be ourselves while being with others, while creating something.
Of course, at the time of making this video, we didn't think it was that important. We were probably just bored, but it evolved into something so beautiful. Boredom can be beautiful.. one can only be bored if they choose to be. You can also choose to be occupied. Both boredom and occupation work, to be bored or to be occupied is a choice. One can choose to create something beautiful just for the fuck of it, or one can choose to deny that opportunity.
Ugh. Opportunity is everywhere.. it takes so much energy but it just keeps coming back to me, keeps filling me, helping me remember. I need to remember. Frendship helps me remember.
In elementary school, all the kids were united. Even the teachers and guidance counselors. Our roles were clearly defined and we followed them blindly: certain rules come with assuming a role (by default). Rules aren't stupid. Rebellion against rules that are legitimate and necessary is stupid, and it's lazy. It takes self-control to accept the inevitabilities of life. It takes BIG FUCKING BALLS to accept 'em & embrace 'em. It may seem simple but that's the point.
When I compare my current school life now to the way I experienced school when I was a young buck, I feel trapped. Trapped in every essense of the word... me and Mike literally got trapped inside my living room. There's no doorknob.. one of us shut the door I guess, I don't remember who but that's not really important anyway.
We were trapped but there were ways out: I could open the window & crawl through it, then go to the front of my house, open the door, go inside, only to find that door doesn't open any easier on the other side.
I also could've found some sort of tool that may have been in my living room at the time, like a screw driver or something but no matter how many solutions seemed to come to mind, I didn't want to pursue them personally. I wanted freedom to happen on it's own, when it decided to.
I didn't want to intervene with literally being trapped... and to top it all off, I was with Mike. The video moved both of us equally and mutually.
To be on the same level with another is really refreshing, especially when it's genuine, pure. Innocence is pure, to be young is pure. To be innocent, yet still an artist is pure. To have a voice but also have a heart is pure. To be able to share myself with another so effortlessly, and have them share themselves with me is pure. It's simple. Simple things are important, right off the bat they're more complex.
When someone or something demands complexity, it's invasive. It's an assumption. People want to make a choice, people don't want to agree. People want to speak their opinion even and especially if it's opposing something and/or someone. I do atleast.
Who's to say one voice holds any less power than another?
Who's to say that fate exists? The natural flow of things says is loud and clear, I can hear it.. almost. The way things occur without intervening, or just intervening as little as possible. There is some sort of continuity to life.. it can be manipulated.
Manipulation can be used on either sides of the spectrum: maliciousness and selflessness. What is selfishness anyway? People are born alone, and die alone. It only makes sense to do what's best for oneself at all times, it's not selfish. Genuine love proves selflessness. I don't want to manipulate but it happens whether I want it to or not. Manipulation through love shouldn't be considered manipulation at all. Love is selfish. Love re-creates me, continually, even when my loved one's physical presense is not graced with mine.
It is still there perpetually, as he is. I can feel it, everywhere: MIND, BODY, AND SOUL. It's not just another coincidence, it's fucking real. REAL. It is something that exists even through denial, through the usual patterns. It is something that exists, with or without my control. Life has a life of it's own, I'm tuning into it. It's real. Really fucking real. I really want to convert that video into a DVD so I can post it. Even if someone doesn't completely understand WHY the film was made, or WHY they are watching it, they could still get something out of it. I believe that things such as videos and blogs and notes and pictures are things that every human person can experience, therefore PERSONALLY experience. It means a lot to me, it symbolizes childhood.
I feel like I'm finally really getting through to people, its really fucking refreshing. I feel like my life is not only just "living", it is creating.
Consistent creation
"Just do the next right thing." I've been told this since I was young by the people closest to me, and my family taught me to go by that rule.
My family has embedded certain rules onto my palms and knees in which I cannot seem to forget, or rebel. I don't wanna rebel anymore, I want to cope.
A wrongly accused righteous man; my blood. Could water be thicker than blood?
Has the blood been soiled? Rotting through my cells,
but who should I be angry at? I'll take blame one more fucking time, if that's what it takes.
If that'll break the cycle, eventually
He didn't even teach me how to ride a Bicycle, he brought me to the dollar store on my birthday.
It's the thought that counts, right?
Blood boiling, I've been nothing but a loyal friend, a juror taking notes.
What else is there to be?
I couldn't understand it if I tried, and believe me I have. It's all I ever do, really. It's the motivation to create anything, really. To seek truth.
Maybe I'll go to the dollar store this year for my birthday and just splurge, on all the simple things.
What else do I need anyway? I have my
MIND, BODY AND SOUL
Isn't that enough?
Mike and I have tried finding this particular video for years. Tonight, we happened to find it. By chance... or maybe not. Everything happens for a reason I guess. That video symbolizes our friendship in so many ways, and it almost felt like irony that we happened to actually find the video in the first place. It was a coincidence. We both wanted it to happen but did not go out of our way to find it, consciously at least.
"Red Eye"
We were so original that some big-time producer thought of the same name for a movie they made, and named it that. But after the fact of making the video, a few years after I think. Which means.. we're more original than the big-time producers, we thought of the idea first. Making videos was a creative outlet for us, to be ourselves while being with others, while creating something.
Of course, at the time of making this video, we didn't think it was that important. We were probably just bored, but it evolved into something so beautiful. Boredom can be beautiful.. one can only be bored if they choose to be. You can also choose to be occupied. Both boredom and occupation work, to be bored or to be occupied is a choice. One can choose to create something beautiful just for the fuck of it, or one can choose to deny that opportunity.
Ugh. Opportunity is everywhere.. it takes so much energy but it just keeps coming back to me, keeps filling me, helping me remember. I need to remember. Frendship helps me remember.
In elementary school, all the kids were united. Even the teachers and guidance counselors. Our roles were clearly defined and we followed them blindly: certain rules come with assuming a role (by default). Rules aren't stupid. Rebellion against rules that are legitimate and necessary is stupid, and it's lazy. It takes self-control to accept the inevitabilities of life. It takes BIG FUCKING BALLS to accept 'em & embrace 'em. It may seem simple but that's the point.
When I compare my current school life now to the way I experienced school when I was a young buck, I feel trapped. Trapped in every essense of the word... me and Mike literally got trapped inside my living room. There's no doorknob.. one of us shut the door I guess, I don't remember who but that's not really important anyway.
We were trapped but there were ways out: I could open the window & crawl through it, then go to the front of my house, open the door, go inside, only to find that door doesn't open any easier on the other side.
I also could've found some sort of tool that may have been in my living room at the time, like a screw driver or something but no matter how many solutions seemed to come to mind, I didn't want to pursue them personally. I wanted freedom to happen on it's own, when it decided to.
I didn't want to intervene with literally being trapped... and to top it all off, I was with Mike. The video moved both of us equally and mutually.
To be on the same level with another is really refreshing, especially when it's genuine, pure. Innocence is pure, to be young is pure. To be innocent, yet still an artist is pure. To have a voice but also have a heart is pure. To be able to share myself with another so effortlessly, and have them share themselves with me is pure. It's simple. Simple things are important, right off the bat they're more complex.
When someone or something demands complexity, it's invasive. It's an assumption. People want to make a choice, people don't want to agree. People want to speak their opinion even and especially if it's opposing something and/or someone. I do atleast.
Who's to say one voice holds any less power than another?
Who's to say that fate exists? The natural flow of things says is loud and clear, I can hear it.. almost. The way things occur without intervening, or just intervening as little as possible. There is some sort of continuity to life.. it can be manipulated.
Manipulation can be used on either sides of the spectrum: maliciousness and selflessness. What is selfishness anyway? People are born alone, and die alone. It only makes sense to do what's best for oneself at all times, it's not selfish. Genuine love proves selflessness. I don't want to manipulate but it happens whether I want it to or not. Manipulation through love shouldn't be considered manipulation at all. Love is selfish. Love re-creates me, continually, even when my loved one's physical presense is not graced with mine.
It is still there perpetually, as he is. I can feel it, everywhere: MIND, BODY, AND SOUL. It's not just another coincidence, it's fucking real. REAL. It is something that exists even through denial, through the usual patterns. It is something that exists, with or without my control. Life has a life of it's own, I'm tuning into it. It's real. Really fucking real. I really want to convert that video into a DVD so I can post it. Even if someone doesn't completely understand WHY the film was made, or WHY they are watching it, they could still get something out of it. I believe that things such as videos and blogs and notes and pictures are things that every human person can experience, therefore PERSONALLY experience. It means a lot to me, it symbolizes childhood.
I feel like I'm finally really getting through to people, its really fucking refreshing. I feel like my life is not only just "living", it is creating.
Consistent creation
"Just do the next right thing." I've been told this since I was young by the people closest to me, and my family taught me to go by that rule.
My family has embedded certain rules onto my palms and knees in which I cannot seem to forget, or rebel. I don't wanna rebel anymore, I want to cope.
A wrongly accused righteous man; my blood. Could water be thicker than blood?
Has the blood been soiled? Rotting through my cells,
but who should I be angry at? I'll take blame one more fucking time, if that's what it takes.
If that'll break the cycle, eventually
He didn't even teach me how to ride a Bicycle, he brought me to the dollar store on my birthday.
It's the thought that counts, right?
Blood boiling, I've been nothing but a loyal friend, a juror taking notes.
What else is there to be?
I couldn't understand it if I tried, and believe me I have. It's all I ever do, really. It's the motivation to create anything, really. To seek truth.
Maybe I'll go to the dollar store this year for my birthday and just splurge, on all the simple things.
What else do I need anyway? I have my
MIND, BODY AND SOUL
Isn't that enough?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)