Friday, December 30, 2005

She was a nimble cattle prod
void of cartoon audacity for a spoiled sunshine
Depressed by anvil parachutes
His labyrith tongue glazed
It was a dam anacids cooking slowly under ice stare

Shake me like the salt
running through my veins.
Drawing down the lines
navigate the maze

The cannons slept while penetrating
the abrupt horizon of a vacant child
She was a dripping handjob
from the widetoothed grin of a lion
Erroneous audacity drinking
an overflowing cup
icicles gripping the larnyx profile

Monday, December 26, 2005

"There is a certain misconception about stress I think. Alot of people think if you have a really hectic or otherwise complicated, pressuring career that you will be a ticking time bomb waiting to go off. When I was younger I used to see people on TV, the enemies so to speak and think to myself 'Man.. I bet those guys don't get any sleep, how can they live in constant peril?'. Truth is, we adapt, we cope with it - we're built to."


"You wouldn't believe how much you can do to a person, or a group of people for that matter, before they decide to fight back. It's all about the presentation. I live in constant fear for my life, I have many enemies as I've killed many people, but you know what? It really doesn't bother me all that much. I get up every morning and drink my coffee like the rest of you. We all have our jobs to do, we all report to someone; as long as you can report back to your moral code at the end of the day, then your personal choices are worth the paycheck, so to speak."


"I mean take today, its Christmas. I'll be working, most of the country won't be, but I will be. More deaths, a grain of salt on my conscious, but they do seem to add up after a while. They say the meaning of life is found somewhere in living it, but they don't say how long you have to go. Personally if I hear that a village was bombed I say hey, at least they got to life for a little while. People can be so greedy these days."


"I got my daughters some real expensive jewlery for Christmas. I felt Christ was with me during the purchase somehow; because of that I stand before you a man at peace on this festive day"


"Mr. President.. stop talking to your teddy and come with me please, I have some papers for you to sign"

"Well.. can I bring Mr. Wiggles?"

It's a genius concept really. Travel around to different places, contestants come on the show willingly, and free. All the places that the crew goes are complimentary because of the exposure they get through tv. I talk of none other than the compliment to the 4am Springer, Povich combo, I talk of Elimidate.

On this particular date I stood leaning against the wall in the living room in of the house of one 'Jeremy Shutter' watching the events transpire infront of me. The basic premise of the show is that 1 person (usually a guy) is surrounded by the opposite sex on a series of date type scenarios, with the person in question eliminating one of them after each location. In this particular shithole of a town we had such a hard time finding a guy willing to be on the show, that we eventually agreed that we would come to Jeremy's house and have the girls help him with some of the household repairs he needed done. We put a 'girls at work' theme on it, but the whole thing is was fucking sad, too sad to even laugh at.

Jeremy was a physically appealing guy, they usually are. Like the others he seemed to be slightly out of phase with reality. This guy lives alone in a fairly big, yet rundown house. He seems to have some money, but no friends. It's truly an odd feeling, being in the presence of someone who has literally been molded by the media, and the media alone; I suppose this is why they work so well for tv. I can spot them a mile away. They can't even admit it to themselves, but deep down they all feel like after doing the show they might receive a call from some agent saying "Hey kid, I like your style"

I studied the women I had picked out, as with the men, I usually choose the 4 women according to a certain criteria. It varies, but I usually end with a combo of self absorbed, passive, crazy, and regular. Time and time again self absorbed and crazy will pick on passive and she will be eliminated first due to 'lack of personality'. Then crazy and regular will criticize self absorded, but self absorbed is normally hot enough to withstand with bombardment and crazy is eliminated for.. well, being crazy. And so, finally we end up with self absorbed and regular - one time in ten the guy will choose regular. It's almost like a science, this night would be no different. Same dissolusioned dreams.

I think it was when one of the girls held up the paint roller she had been using in a threat to 'paint' one of the other girls that I truly lost control. "Put down the fucking paint roller" I screamed at 'Trish'. The rest of the crew turned to look at me like I was mad, this type of behavior was exactly what we tried to encourage on the show but I couldn't take it anymore. This insessant comedy taking place right before my eyes in an entirely different world and I couldn't turn it off. I have to tune in whether I wanted to or not; every trip might as well have been to the streets to videotape crackheads.

And yet I feel like I'm the one who is being watched, as I read this now it is my life that comes across as sounding worse. As I sit there, late at night watching the footage taking place within the confines of our staff tv, I can't help but to begin to see a frame around my head.

Tuesday, December 06, 2005

“And contestant number 4 begins to type on the computer, yet again!”

“Not only that Tim, but it’s at quarter to 7 in the morning! I mean he would long be asleep by now!”

I sat there, trying to ignore the commentary; it seemed to penetrate the layer of deception I had draped over my body. How had they found me? I wondered as the words seem to come out on their own, “Listen, why don’t you guys cut me a break? I don’t suppose it would be very nice for the viewers if I was boring, and had some regimented computer schedule.” I knew it was a mistake, but like I said the words just came out.

(aside) “That was NOT cool kid, you DO NOT talk to us you hear me?”

Fuck those guys, but I knew the rules, albeit even if I learned them after signing the contract. Talking was stupid, the crowd loves me subtle actions anyways. At least I assume. I tried to push them out of my mind as I looked back at the blank, white window with a flashing horizontal line in the upper left hand corner. The word processing program window was set against an ambiguous fractal wallpaper.

“And umm… We’re back folks. You’ll have to excuse contestant number 4, as he is under a lot of stress as you know; he has a big essay due”
“Yes, an existential essay Tim, and for you viewers out there who are wondering what that is, do not worry, it’s basically just an essay about getting out of dealing with anything. Just an example of the irony we present to you on a daily basis here on the network”

I rolled my eyes at this. “Ok” I said to myself, let’s just get this done. I ‘tisked’ my teeth at this as I thought about ‘just getting it done’. I mean, why should I really write this essay? It seems like this stress is worse than any arbitrary mark I could get. So long as I graduate, does it really matter how good my marks are, or I should say, is it really worth it to be ‘at the top’. It seems like a lot of a sacrifice, especially with something as subjective as this? How can you really put A LOT of effort into this essay over and beyond the regular continuity, and grammar checks? It is weird, working in this ‘looking forward’ mentality, while trying to write about the now, and the past.

“He seems to be having some trouble here folks; this thing could likely go down to the wire!”

Alright, the voices were right, I had to get started. I literally ripped whatever thought was passing by in my head, out of it, and threw it down on the page. I watched the thought writhe there on the electronic surface, raw and still alive, struggling to be free of the confines that come with a paper domain. The one thought became a couple as a proceeded to type away, but the more I exposed some of myself to the reality of the essay, the more the multiplying thoughts began to get out of control. It came to the point where they seemed about ready to grab a hold of my hands and pull me into the chaotic void from which they sprang; a suicide that would have no return for me. I slammed shut my notebook and stood up, beginning to pace about the room.

“Well this does not bode well for the contestant, what is he doing taking yet another break? He has a perfect track record so far in these events, but perhaps number 4 will be taking a his first fail of the season!”
“Perhaps Jim, he just might. I mean, there are two types of action in this world. There is productive action, and there is non productive action. Contestant 4 tends to do a little too much of the latter category, and I think that this time it may have got him in trouble. Winning the game is, after all, the main goal here.”

I paced my room, watching the cameras with a cold awareness of their existence. I could feel the eyes, on my skin, it was constant and irritating. Flattering and disgusting all at the same time, I figured I would have smashed one by now, but it wouldn’t do any good, they’d just replace it. Besides, it gave me a sort of a sense of purpose, after this long I think I would find it lonely without them there, watching and judging.

I think I need to get outside. I began to put on my jacket and shoes.

(aside) “Alright guys he’s on the move. This fucking kid, I swear he does this shit just to piss me off, I truly do not understand him, and I’ve known him his whole life”

I walked down my street slowly, though it still felt like I was trying to outrun the camera crew behind me. The feeling was illogical, as no matter how fast or slow I moved, they would find a way to stay the same distance away, just outside my perspective. Illogical or not, the feeling maintained. I found myself making my to the small park around the corner from my house, I also found a small smile creeping onto my face. It is an odd feeling going back to a place you can connect with ‘being a kid’. It’s almost like another world; everything seems smaller, even though you feel the same.

“Well folks, it seems as if the contestant has come to the park of all places, in an attempt to draw some inspiration, I’ll tell ya, things are not looking good for the young rookie”
“I agree Tim, I mean there are no books to read at the park!”

I sat down on a swing, and with the power of hindsight, set myself in motion. As I swung back and forth, and I had a thought about the good, and the seemingly quite harsh evils I experienced on a playground not unlike this one, back in my wonder years. Looking back, I am at the top of the swing, at the hinge, the potential. Each end of the crescent for the swing’s motion represents good and evil comparatively. Like the exercise of going for a swing, the consideration of good and evil in the world are useful fictions, much like as a child, swinging is a fine way to pass the time.

Yes, I liked this concept, I can work with this I thought as I hopped off the swing and headed back towards home, a small grin creeping its way across my face as I did so. I turned around to regard the camera crew for a second. It was still dark, the very early hours of the morning, so they had the lights going full blast. Sometimes I could actually feel the heat emanating from the small suns. With that thought I looked above those losers to the clear, shimmering night sky. The stars looked like distant crystal snowflakes, stuck there in the tar curvature of my infinite realm of perception. Most of them not even real, only the bibliography of a book long since read. These eyes peer down on our perspective, somehow outside of their own, stuck as a universal constant iris between existence and oblivion; the real cameras so to speak.

“Folks, it appears like the contestant has stopped, and it simply staring at the sky”
“Perhaps he’s praying for the essay to simply drop from the sky?!?”
(aside) “Seriously, Tim…what the fuck is he doing?”
“Folks, our tacticians have informed us that contestant 4 will, based on his previous experience, have about an 80% chance of failure to meet the word count deadline as of right now”

I could sense the confusion in the camera crew, so, to help them out I pointed to them, then pointed to the stars before turning and making my back to the house, where these dorks also reside, albeit in a different part.

___________ _____________ ______________

“Did you hear that?”
“I heard something”
“Check, is he in bed?”
“Yeah, looks like it. Camera light?”
“Nah, he probably just kicked the wall or something, that lanky kid”
“Alright so where were we? Oh yeah, so this weekend I’m thinking of going after that brunette, you know the one I always tell you about. I’ve done the rest of her friends, she’ll give into my charms”
“Why don’t you just get a steady girlfriend? I mean doesn’t this cost you a fair amount of money, going out all the time?”

___________ _____________ ______________

“Well folks, here we are on the deadline, and we have what appears to be a strange turn of events”
“Yes Tim, we know that contestant 4 went to sleep last night, having not completed the essay, but yet he seems to be getting ready to leave anyways. Perhaps he has thought of an excuse he thinks will stand up to the professor’s inquiry."

It is not that I am proud of myself, like I said, I distain the cameras half of the time. I thought, walking to class. Rather, it is the desire to demonstrate, to show my personality. Words are tricky so I prefer action. I walked into the educational building and make my way to class. Walking down the aisle I realized that there can be no showing off, no fame, there is only action. The rest are, like good and evil, completion or negation, simply illusions, albeit useful ones. It was with this in mind that I reached into my bag and pulled out the video tape I handed to my professor.

Saturday, November 26, 2005

Over here
This stream is changing
Held by rigid land

I stand
Time running downstream
The outline of a man

Up above
The rain is falling
Around the place I stand

Tuesday, November 22, 2005

Sidney ascended the steps of Temple High School, leaving behind her a wake of confidence and illusion, the engine of course -- her attire and demeanor. The hallways were jammed full with studets, the usual silence that had followed the mass production of the 'Spectacles'.

The Spectacles are a pair of ordinary looking seeing glasses, but they are far beyond the fossil like 'seeing glasses' in function, far beyond. The glasses were essentially computers akin to those you are reading this story on. The Spectacles are equipped with eye sensors as well as a visual keypad projection system which allows the glasses to read the input from the typing of fingers within a specific grid in relation to the sight of the user.

It is far, far, more adventagious to think about, and type out a sentence you could easily spill out without any editing or provisions. As well, given use from early youth into the middle and high schoool years, it is for the most part far, far faster to use your hands than your mouth. This is not to say that everyone in this day and age doesn't know how to actually speak english, in fact almost every single person on earth knows how to speak an actual language, just like they did back in the prior years. It is necessary to be able to speak without use of the spectacles as sometimes talk is needed that cannot be monitored in any real way.

Sidney traverses the crowd of silent people, hearing a vast number of conversations flickering to her at a specificly set proximity/time ratio before finally crossing the threshold into a particular room, she finds a seat to her likeing and sits down.

It is not long before the teacher enters the room, she is a middle aged blonde. Sidney thinks to herself that Ms. Blackstone was almost positively quite an attractive woman back in her high school years, that is.. provided some of her extra plumb did not used to reside under her ivory, pale skin. Ms. Blackstone smiles to the students in the class and says "Greetings" outloud before moving into Spectacle speech, the room once again completely undisturbed by any sound except for the occasional cough.

After taking care of some administrative matters, the teacher begins her lecture: "Today in history will we be looking back to the events leading up the great revolution. In particular we will look at the construction of the individual I'm sure you all have heard of, a man by the name of Jesus. Now this is not his actual name, he made it up to coincide with some fabrications in the book we looked at last month, "The Bible". Jesus, using some fairly secret technologies, ones we know of today, but something that the people of the times would even have had a concept of. Things like MTP, and Transference. "Jesus" proceeded to manipulate the succeptable masses of the world into buying into him as a "Religious" figure. Perhaps the most telling mistake of Jesus' career as a tool for the elites was his public siding with with what was called the 'republican' democratic party. This man was the catalyst for the main events leading up the great revolution, but in the end, his technology could not do what the 'god' he suscribed to was apparently capable of. "

* * *

Sidney sat there, drumming her fingers along the top of her glass desk. The glass is tinted as to be optimal for an ideal visual backdrop when using the spectacles. At this moment Sidney was watching the conversation between the teacher and student. It was blocked from 3rd party access, but Sidney was smart enough to know how to crack the firewall without being tested. So, with nothing before her but a boring suck-up conversation, Sidney waited for the class to empty. When it evetually did she gathered up her stuff and approached the teacher.

"Hi there Sidney" she said outloud, followed by a smile.

"Hello" Sidney said over the SPectacles, followed by a smile. "I've been doing some reading about this 'God' concept that we've sort of skimmed over in class now, I'm just wondering what -exactly- is a 'God'?" the student asks, with a seemingly genuine gaze.

Ms Blackstone nodded a few times while chewing on her lower lip, "Ok.. well, Sidney it's actually sort of my job to n-... to refer you to other experts in that particular field. They don't like us really teaching you guys about -that-"

Sidney scowled at this, "I just don't understand, How exactly does it exist -outside- of the empire? I mean.. doesn't... .. Well I just don't understand"

The teacher sighed slightly and sat back down into her seat, apparently ready to engage in quite the discussion to save her credit for a child prodige, but also to avoid getting fired. "Sidney, do you know much about 'faith'?" she asks, testing the waters.

"Yes, I think so, sort of like a.. belief in something which is not within the net?" the young woman responds, studying the teachers reaction after she stops to get a feel of the worth of the answer.

"Well... sort of" the teacher explains, "You can find it within the net too. Say for example.. the pornography archives, you wouldn't look there for say.. word definitions or standard calculus equations would you?"


"Exactly, you know -where- to look, and how to trust your own judgements and conclusions, just like you must do with the trails when you are quite young. In the same way you learn to trust your observations about nature, faith is trusting yourself to excercise your intelligence and ability to screen through the say.. level 4 information, compared to say.. the level 2"

Sidney gave a 'hmmm' to this. "I perhaps see now.. the 'God' for the prior timers was not an object, but that feeling we have in all of us, it is the order and the mystery.. and maybe.. maybe even the reason why we have been able to figure out the mastery behind the empire"

Ms Blackstone wouldn't say Sidney was perfectly correct, but she had to admit, the child was awefully smart for her age.

Saturday, November 19, 2005

Deep within hormone pools
reflect star filled skies

I laughed at myself
as I could not look away

A magnet for my eyes
the attraction of fools

She persisted to fake dismay
threw her to the topmost shelf

----The years between, and the days apart
All of this time, you are my art. ----

I see her there, out of reach
I'm reminded every time she speaks

I set this dinner with myself as the wine
She rips out the cloth, time after time

The woman with the lyrics styles
You don't need me there forcing smiles

I'll always look out for you, I have from the start
Give up on you? I can't even my heart

Tuesday, November 15, 2005

Kingdom of the ruling lovers
The taste is sour of oak keg waters

Drum on to the future beat
Where these words and lines will surely meet

Hedonistic devil go away
I love you but another day

Read between and you find time
Here, now, in this rhyme
The journalist traveresed the steps of the building the best he could; the whole thing wasn't a regular vertical staircase, for some reason it was this apparent maze of sporradic upward footsteps. The building, as he came to realize was what he considered somewhat of an architectual failure, the layout was not symmetrical and did not make sense. It required the journalist to think, and he did not like that, he preferred a labeled sign and an orderly fashion any day of the week.

As he stepped up onto a particular landing with a door sitting nonchalantely to the left of him on the wall he reached into his pocket to retreive a crumpled up peice of paper wich had,
written on it. "This is it" he inhaled to himself before stuffing the peice of paper back into his suit pant pocket and opening up the door.

He was greeted by a long hallway, with no doors whatsoever except for the one at the end. The color scheme of the hallway was that of a crimson red; the journalist noted it at a near unconscious level. He continued down the hallway, staring at the ominous nature of the hinged rectangle that lie in his path, blocking him from what truly rippled the calm waters of his thought process. The door was completely void of decoration or color, it was a simple wooden door of 'wood' colors; yet for some reason it disturbed the reporter, it's very existence seemed to annoy the man, his distain for the texture and the sight of the object was only outweighed for his love of it's lack of transparency.

He stood there, for a couple minutes with his hand on the doorknob, contemplating why he had been called here, and for what purpose. Alot of ideas raced through his head, and he almost wished he had a pen and paper to write down some of the fear inspired ideas he was having at the moment. The one idea he was unable to shake was that of free will. The fact that he was here, with his hand on the doorknob was indicative of his seemingly fated nature; sure he has the choice to turn around and run away, but wouldn't serve him an almost more certain fate? It seemed to him that we rely on the myth of free will as much as it depends on us to exist as a thought in the first place. Indeed, it was with this thought that he turned the knob and pushed the door open.

The room revealed a much different scene that the reporter thought it would. Instead of the 'animal-head-on-the-wall' theme he expected from a ruthless dictator, the reporter instead was presented with what appeared to be a.. ..comic book inspired theme. The reporter walked forward slowly towards the desk in the middle of the room trying to contain his grin; who would have thought that Rudolf was such a fan of comic books?

Rudolf appeared to be a small man, but he was covered in a number of electric gizmos which sat atop of an extremely complex clothing ensamble. He sat at the desk with his hands folded in a rather stereotypical 'bad guy' fashion. He did not really move, aside from his eyes which watched the journalist take a seat on the other side of his large, but simplistic glass slab desk. He was a pale man, but had a strange glow to him, a self assuredness the reporter did not often run into.

"Do you know why you are here?" Rudolf asked the reporter.

"I mean no offense Sir, but I haven't the faintest clue" the journalist replied, trying his best to appear what Rudolf would describe as 'not guilty' and at the same time confident.

"Good" Rudolf replied, pausing for a moment to rub his goatee, as if in thought. "Another question my friend, do you know why I prefer to have a neatly cropped facial hair style, such as the 'goetee' type I am sporting as of right now?"

"I am sorry Sir, I do not"

"Good" Rudolf replied, smiling openly to the reporter. "Then I shall tell you the answer to both questions" he stated, drumming his fingers against the glass plane that basically comprised the entirety of his 'desk', which upon closer examination was more of a table than anything. He gestured around the room to the various comic book pictures and posters. "Every story must have a villian, and out of determination on my part, and some luck, I happed to land in the villianous role. This is not to say that I am a 'bad' guy persay, but every person goes through life with a purpose, be it to be great' or to do shit all, both are a purpose for the sake of this discussion. The problem though, as you may know, is that once I made it to the top, I no longer had a purpose. I could get no more power other than already had in my country, and so I had to make some changes" Rudolf explained, staring into the eyes of the reporter the length of the speech.

The journalist did not quite know what to think of this, he supposed it made sense at one level, but he would rather the dictator would just tell him what he wanted, rather than ramble on. "Please.. go on"

Rudolf nodded, his thin smile widening for a fraction of a second as he saw he was getting through to the reporter. "As I said, we all need a purpose.. we choose it of course, but without one we are damned to a personal hell, and that is not something I want to endure" he stated, before pointing to his goetee, "I am an evil man! I will conquer the world with fear and violence, and I will be known for it!" he affirmed, more himself than anyone.

"As you wish Sir"

Rudolf slammed his fist down at these words, and the reporter stiffened in his seat. "This is not what I command you to do, this is reality, this is the life that we both endure." He scratched at his goetee again, a bit more agressive than the previous time, "Do you know how much I loath the feeling of this hair on my face? Of hair in general? I must endure this life, this toxic waste of a proper species, this inherent forum of specialized idiots and regular idiots alike. I am too smart for it, and for this reason I am in the role you see before me. What else can be my purpose to distract me from this noise, this.. quicksand that I call reality?" he paused for a second, looking at the reporter Rudolf did not feel like the man was going to repond with anything useful, including a typical scared yes-man response so he continued. "What else can I do besides sculpt the hair on my face to distract my mind from the behive of distraction, of iching and uncomfortability? What else am I to do but continue with my 'reign of terror'?" he used his hands to indicate the last phrase was 'in brackets', but the look his eyes seemed to betray his actions; the man seemed torn. "What am I to do, listen to the critics and do the 'right thing'? Give up all I have worked to accomplish? How can I accomplish this task, how can I itch the feeling that is so pervasive in my mind, that only seems to be affected by the fingernail of death? I need purpose as you need words, without it we are nothing, and I cannot turn back now"

The journalist did not really know how to repond to this. Was this an elaborate speech to indicate his usefulness had been outlived, or was the leader of all leaders simply ranting?

It seemed the latter was correct when Rudolf said, "You may go now, communicate your opinion as per your service to the empire"

The reporter nodded and after getting up he gave a slight bow to the pale leader and turned back towards the door he had entered. Trancending the threshold of the frame the reporter thought that it was ironic he was now fearing what he would have to do on this side of the truth: How on earth was he going to turn this into a story that his, or any news organization would accept? After all, the opinion of the most powerful man on earth means nothing if it does not correspond to the artificial attitude many have already grown to love. For the reporter, to tell the truth is to be branded a liar and sentenced to death.

Tuesday, November 08, 2005

he police officer stared through the glass at the brightly lit, ever-so-simple room. In fact, it was one of the brightest rooms that they had here in the building. She assumed the extreme light is designed to be uncomfortable, but somehow it seemed the reverse for her right now. The detainee, seated at the interrogation table seemed to be quite at home, he was slouched over, using one of his arms as a headrest and drumming away on the table. A white male.

Exhaling she placed her hand on the doorknob; the males in the precinct called the first interrogation 'popping your cherry', as she stood there about to penetrate the room so to speak, the police officer wondered if males felt this nervous the first time they lost their virginity. I mean, who knows what'll happen once she's in there? Such a foreign place, she never really realized how much the (male) penis puts it all out there, the periscope of the human sensation submarine so to speak.

"Alright! It's gotta happen sooner or later" she said to herself before confidently twisting the doorknob, and proceeding into the bright room. She made a point not to look away from the suspect as she calmly walked over and took a seat across the table from the suspect. He had a very young face, smooth with a shaven head. He wore the basic 'street' attire, which consisted of an oversized winter coat with a fur outined hood, a pair of baggy jeans and some sort of basketball jersey over a white t-shirt. Amazingly, this style has not seemed to evolve at all like the rest of fashion.

"Ok Mr.. Fontana, here's the deal. You've been brought in on intent to sell, you know the drug laws in the US will nail you to the wall. You give us some information, maybe I can make this little.. incovenience go away." the police officer said sternly. She wasn't sure what to make of her initial speech, I mean it sounded alright.

Mr. Fontana sat up a bit straighter, licking his lips slightly his hazelnut eyes scanned the police officer. She would say that she was a fairly attractive woman, and she knew what a sexual look looked like, and his was definately not one of them. It was as if the boy practiced being interrogated, because she felt naked, revealed under his gaze.

"What's your name? Rookie?" he finally said, with a coy smile.

"Fuck" she thought to herself before finally responding with a stern, "My name is Detective Emilia Ramirez"

Fontana nodded at this, rubbing his chin for a second. "Lemme guess" he started, rubbing his hands together overdramatically, "Small town, High IQ, someone scarred you real good when yews was young" he nodded, rocking back and forth slightly. "Das why you got into dis here work ya girl" he held out his hands, "MMm? Am I's right or not?"

Emilia was stunned, how could this guy know all that? This is impossible! She did not what was worse, her surpise at this suspects knowledge, or her inability to even pinpoint his age. He could easily have been 25, or 18; why hadn't she checked his chart again before coming? "Rookie" she yelled to herself. Trying to keep it together she managed, "How.. How did you know that?"

"Ya wear it on ya face ya girl" he responded, "Look, in yer line of work, you's got ta leave that shit deep in ya mind, you's in love ain't ya?" he leaned forward, "You got stuffed by ya man this morning, and you loved it"

The couldn't even respond.

"Let me spell things out for ya, I respect the law, I know it's gotsta be there, we's all in this together you know, the dealers and you guys. Cept we gots the jails and the pleasure sted of the dental plan and da protection like y'all" he paused for a moment, scanning Emilia's face once again, before going on. "Aight look, I ain't scared a bein here, I know I'm gon be back on the streets eventually, but while I be 'detained' like y'all like to call it, let me tell you a thing or two about what you ain't seein. Girl, I can tell you's a smart one, I ain't wanna see you wing up dead before your time you know what I'm sayin?"

Emilia, wide-eyed, slowly nodded.

"Aight is like this. Da streets is a different world you know? I mean literally, our world don't exist with everyone else. Government, rules, morals, all that shit is an illusion. We gots Kings, Kingdoms, warriors and assasins. Da streets be home to some of the smartest niggas the world has seen, just like y'all employ some of the dumbest motherfuckas the world has been." he paused for a second, glancing to the mirrored glass before continuing. "You think I wanna see some child get mowed down in the streets? I hate evil child raping, innocent killin motherfuckas as much as the next foo, but on the streets shit's gotta get done, just like on the force. There always be the thinkers and the doers, and it always be the doers who fuck up. General can't control all his troops ya know, all that shit, some are rouges, some just disobey, some just be motherfucking cracked out motherfuckas. We be in milkin the world business, I choose the danger and the payoffs, you be in the maintaining illusion business, choose the comfort and the peace of mind. Believe it or not, us 'criminals' believe in justice just as much as y'all" he laughed at this for a moment, "How else y'all think things run so smoothly? The integration between us two groups."

The police officer glanced over to the window for a second, she did not think anyone would be listening if she knew the officer like she did. She did after all, pick this time to 'pop her cherry' for a particular reason. "Go on"

"There ain't no more to be said" the suspect responded, "You want justice? So do I, but ya ain't gonna find it from some judge, or from some rulebook, y'all find it in your heart and it'll make things alot easier for you. Ya gotta accept the rules, and then abandon all fear, all emotion. You wanna play this game and love's gotta come second, it's all gotta come second because if it doesn't it'll get sucked from you or pushed under your skin anyways. If you can't handle this, I suggest you get out of this game girl, take a desk job"

Emilia was finally beginning to get over her initial shock, the guy was smart, but she had to save some face. "You know what, you should like someone numb to the world, justifying your actions moreso to yourself than to me, you think you can just ignore the law?"

Fontana raised an eyebrow at this, something else the police officer couldn't do. "You're talking to a mirror girl. " He stuffed his hands into his coat pockets and looked at her for an extended period of time. "This is the world we live in ya girl, the politicians that run this country employ us, and you trust their law? Who is really the numb one here?"

Wednesday, November 02, 2005

She had made a lot of mistakes in her day, she knew this. With mistakes comes a certain degree of intelligence however. Her son could never understand this. She praised him, even to herself for his doctorate, and subsequent teaching position, but he always made the right choices, starting with his one to run away from home. She couldn't blame him, a kid that smart with a mother like him? It was mainly for this reason that she did not mind that he was not here with her now

"So, Mr... tough guy, how did you get that bruise on your neck?" her stepdaughter, cocking her head to the side and withdrawing the lollypop from her mouth, making sure to get every last bit of juice from the red sphere as she did so.

The random man --who the old woman had to admit, was fairly attractive-- looked around the dimly lit piece of shit apartment hastily and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Look lady I got into a fight... do you think I can get that shit now?" he rocked forward on his heels slightly, nervously from his place within the kitchen, near the door. The kitchen was its own room however the wall dividing it from the living room was missing its top half, thus giving the kitchen an 'open' feeling. He tried not to look directly at the stepdaughter's husband, passed out with the old woman's husband in the living room.

"You want that smack.. do you?" she stepdaughter said in between licks of her lips. She took a step closer. "Do you... wanna give me a smack?" she breathed, bringing her hand up, brushing his crotch before she raised it to place the sucker back in her mouth.

"No... I'll.. just take the smack please"

The young blonde took another half step closer, bringing herself well within the man's personal space, "Oh so you do want to fuck me?"

The old woman pretended not to be watching, but indeed was with full interest.

"Look, Lady... I don't want any trouble ok?

The stepdaughter reached down to grab the man's genitals, the old woman could tell by the look on his face. "If you don't want any trouble, I suggest you stop being worried about that fucko over there in a coma, and take me into the bedroom and fuck my brains out." She let go and stared into his eyes.

The old woman knew what the man was thinking: "For a whacked out addict, she's pretty hot"

"You do that, I'll see what I can do" she said softly, before turning to walk out of the kitchen, the random man giving a good twenty looks to the stepdaughters husband passed out on the couch, next to the old woman’s, before finally following the blonde. "Don't worry; they’re NOT going to wake up"

That was the last thing the old woman heard from either of the two for a couple minutes, but then that changed. The old woman had to say that she envied the stepdaughter, as clearly she was getting what she asked for. The old woman, in her wisdom guessed that this envy would be a temporary thing, at best. The old woman pondered if this particular fellow was simply brazen, or if the stepdaughter was faking it, wanting to get caught. Either way, why hadn't he just threatened to take his business elsewhere?

There must be something truly divine, transcendent in our lover’s sex sounds, because it sliced through the fog of heroin racing through her husbands mind. He snapped awake suddenly, his eyes narrowing with every second it took for his mind to get caught up on things. He stood there for a long time, listening.

Finally he reached for the gun at his belt; he looked at it for a second and then tossed it on the couch and grabbed the backpack on the ground. From within he grabbed a bunch of dime bags and started down the hall.

The old woman listened intently from her run down, yet comfortable chair. She hardly moved from the chair these days, likewise her husband barely moved from his slumber except to shoot up. As she heard the yelling coming from down the hall, she contemplated her situation.

The random man emerged from the bedroom and hastily hurried to put on his pants and shoes before exiting the apartment.

A couple of minutes later the sex sounds started again.

The old woman had made a lot of mistakes in her life, she knew this, but what is a mistake without the logic to illuminate it? She glanced over at her husband, still asleep and she smiled. What is love without the mistakes to illuminate it?

Sunday, October 30, 2005

You know when you wake up and things just don't feel 'right'? Well it was like that.

Before I even opened my eyes I realized that instead of laying down, I was in fact leaning against something. I opened my eyes. I saw the wooden floor, no surprise there, my room has a wooden floor. It was at about this thought that my brain finally turned over and started its motors.

I'm downstairs, I passed out... waiting for my burger to cook!! Shit. I sprang to my feet and started for the kitchen, I didn't smell any burning so someone must have turned it off, but still, I wanted to go see anyways. I laughed on my brief, awkward walk to the kitchen, I was fucking smashed last night.

I arrived to find my George Forman grill, unplugged, but yet with the english muffin I was defrosting still sitting on the top of the lid. For a second I wondered how they were able to turn off the grill, without taking the english muffin off of it. When I clued in that all someone would have to do to turn it off would be pull out the plug I began to ponder a new subject: Just how much did i have to drink last night? I grabbed the english muffin and opened the lid of the lean mean grilling machine to see what was left of the burger. It was not as burnt as I thought it was, someone must have walked into this situation fairly soon after I passed out on the couch. It looked so ominous sitting there, a vessel to endure the burns of my life's travels. I felt sorry for the poor collection of molecules.

I tossed the burger and the english muffin in the garbage and started up the stairs. I wondered who had found the grill on? If it was Sherry she likely would have left a note, in fact I think any of the girls would have left a note. It must have been Chad or Fred. I strolled into the upstairs bathroom and after turning on the water I looked at myself in the mirror. The reminants of my Halloween costume brought a grin to my face. I was dressed as a creepy old man; I had shaved the top of my head, to imatate a 'going bald' type look and indeed, it sorta looked creepy. I splashed some water on my face and wandered into my room. After shoving all the shit off of it, I utilized my special hungover powers and fell down onto my bed, and under the covers all in one motion.

I could not stop yawning. It was all I was doing, but yet I couldn't seem to get to sleep. My mind lazily danced around the floortiles in my mind. I lay like this, struggling to get to sleep for about eight minutes before my eyes suddenly flashed open and all thought of sleep vaporised. Susan. I had totally forgotten about my extremely drunken msn conversation with her last night. I closed my eyes again, "Fuck it" I thought, laying back down to get to sleep, but it was like that dancer had sprained an ankle, and was stuck on a particular floortile. What exactly had I said to her? After several more minutes of non-sleep I decided to get up to see what I had said, I needed a drink anyways.

Sitting down at my computer desk I opened my notebook and reached for one of the plethora of different cups of water and juice I have, sitting dangerously close to my beloved computer. After finded the log I opened it up to read,
: did you go to a party tonight? and is your hair
all crazy

: yeah... it is, you can see it if you play
your cards right
: i don't need to play my cards
: Susan..... you'te such a square
: i am the sober one at the comp scie, and you are
the drunk one who wants to hook up. i feel as though
there are cards for m to play. and yes.... i am being
a square
:*no cards

: I'm the drunk one who wants to hook up..
yeah, that sounds weird. Yoiu are an enigma... keep in
mind that i won't always be around for you to play with
: cya
: don't be angry
: and i don't see you as something to 'play with'

: right
: anyways.. I'll talk tto you tomorrow
: shut up!! i don't!
: oh..... you are angry now
: don't be passive aggressive
: I'm not angry.. but you seem to think you
can have yoru cake at eat it too. Do you honest;y think
I'll just sit srounf waiting for you? I mean.. it
doesn't matter if I'm willing to or not, you're being
: woah woah woah...... what are you even talking

: greedy? how?
: nothing that i have done is at all greedy
: and i don't think you are sitting around wating
for me by any means

: "oh I'll just phone up matt cause I feel
like making out' YOu must think you live in some
distorted paradise. You're hilarious.. and that's a good
thing.. but tired of it, have fun
: you have your own agenda. and i have mine.
: and you were just as positive about coming over
this week as i was

: lol
: if you were sober right now, and you asked me to
come over, i probably would. but its not the same
when you're loaded

: you can just as easily deny me as i do to you

: i don't know what to say. but i feel like you
are angry with me for acting the way i do, and i don't
see why. cuz i don't think that i ever do anything to
hurt you or use you.

: no susan.. you don'y use me, that's why you
shouldn't feel upset when I say goodbye. you've been
perfectly accountable up until now. But I mean. put
yourself in my place.. .wjhy wouldn't I move on? Use
your rationality
: move on from what?
: I wish you the best
: but why would I stick around
: stick around for what?
: exactly.
: cya
: stop saying good bye in an angry wayyy
ok, well we are talking about this later.
because clearly what happened this week exposed some
shit that i didn't know existed

I didn't know what to make of the log. I was actually sort of impressed I even managed to make sense all things considered. Maybe my drunk self is right, maybe I should just get a girlfriend. Sure I'm afraid of commitment, but I hate being alone sometimes. But I'm alone because I'm so particular... The cycle continued in my mind as I opened up my email. I had a couple new emails, but one in particular from my friend caught my attention as the header was a '' unhappy face thing. I clicked on the message.

Jontia was killed yesturday in a car crash, I'm really sorry

The cycle stopped.

Tuesday, October 25, 2005

Spit me out onto the reconcillial mind.
Love between us, love is young;
Our minds forever slowing down.
When I start to feel sublime,
It's everybody in, my mind.

Blood is empty
Red is free
Pump together, you and me.
The pages that I pinch
With ephemeral grace
Knowledge is an artist
of the utermost grace

Saturday, September 03, 2005

Completed forthcomings
and I'm tying a knot.
vampiric mirrors
are the path that we walk

How can we agree
to the puzzle of our lives?
When the peices stop
To this question we collide.

Do I laugh or do I cry? Reply?

Tuesday, August 23, 2005

Can you recall that day?
when life suggested run till fall
To face it here
I wish that I could have those days

I go to the store to pass the time
I lie to the cashier
Because the words just hurt too much
Still chasing that 15 year love pause
Still scraping the sky
But there's nothing left at all

Do you recall that day?
When the sudden wind
Blew in the bird's
then we watched
Back then I loved the sun's rays

Dressed up for a night at the Newman Arms
We are the early morning cleaners
The music plays and we continue to dance
We sleep in the basement
With locks on the doors

Thursday, August 11, 2005

Tell me all the things you share
I laugh at this net that's caught me snare

I was the one you thought you knew
Tell me all the things, and I'll tell you

Give me my life, give me a sign
Tell me my wife, what will I find?

Tell me all the things that make me smile
Tell me this story, make it last for a while.

Trust me once while was my way.

Monday, August 08, 2005

Looking back I see I've known all along
It's the words, the lyrics. I look up this song.
Everything I've ever known to be me
Exist in these eyes, which I use to see

I sit and wait, for a time to want this
So why is it I yearn, please give me a kiss?
I've fallen in love, with the strength of this irony
I stare at the bosses, come fate now and fire me

A reason to smile, and that's only her eyes
My world and my reason, they love their demise
We'll dance to bliss, on the white picket fence
I can't help but laugh, though it doesn't make sense

Thursday, August 04, 2005

So you stem the earth, and you pick the grain
And in teeth your voice, becomes me one insane
Come the ascending waves, and a gap-toothed grin
Come the ominous water, fill the universe within

I'd watch for time, but I can't find my wrist
The knob is broken, it's a sound level lisp
Come walk with me, in this hall of objection
My hand is a mirror, for this light of perfection

I am the gods, I care not for specifics
I am the rod, that I bend upon physics
I'm not the mask, but the sweat on the brow
I am the past, because it happens right now

As I crawl from the ground to my body, I smile to hear emotion melody

Sunday, July 31, 2005

This is going nowhere I thought, she's too drunk to even listen to reason, and without that this whole trip was going very downhill. I knew the age barrier would be a problem, but this seemed to be further amplified while we was drunk, and this was blowing a wind in my brain which produced angry thoughts.
"I told you it was this way"
I observed, as she was not, that pointing in the left direction didn't qualify as a guess on where to go, "Somewhere over there" would not get us anywhere. I had an idea where the street was, which was where we were, and my guess had been wrong. These things happen, but I wasn't a blubbering idiot, I knew this because it was apparent to me that the other two girls were at this time. I couldn't say I was mad at them, I had been their age once and acted acordingly, but I did not feel well at all, and salvaged my ability to stand without puking to go out. So in this state of mind I wasn't the most understanding person.
It made me want to scream, this intricate weaving of glass and concrete, which allows you to see this love you want to find, but still there are these barriers that are seemingly impenitrable to break through.
When she smiles, it reminds me of the fact that every moment is special, and in the mirror of her face I find myself.
Maybe I'm condemned to write on the picture of this thought I give to you, an autograph of my desire. Perhaps, true love is a waiting line and I got there really really fucking late.

Thursday, July 14, 2005

My expectations are so high
Knock me down, I'll hit the ground
And Cry.
You act so cool watching from away
As susie cuts me, she fucks me
To your dismay.
Am I wasting time?
Ceiling fan spins, second hand within
For this rhyme.
Come kiss me
Who we are? We're the stars
I give to thee.
Look in my eyes,
Would I lie? To the sky?
Our love is.

Monday, July 11, 2005

Climbing up this mountain of truth
Oh the things I've seen along the way
Many of days have passed
and the night has gone by
But still I have that gleam of light
that cuts the night residing in my eye
The higher I climb, the more I seem to see
the metel mouth which eats the land
and the red substance which makes up the sea
The more I know the more I loose touch upon myself
The air is thinning as I breathe in objectivism
But at night in my tent, I can't stay warm without irrational love

Friday, June 24, 2005

I see a story in my second hand belt
There's stars euphoric in the hand I'm dealt
With shoes of my thoughts I'll dance on the harbor
The people on the ferry see and it fills them with laughter
Like the green lazer that climbs into the night
I'll dance in my blazer when I'm well out of sight
Don't talk about this, when that could have been
The difference from reality and dream, is yet to be seen
Don't let them hold our heads, while we stare at their tongue
The fork is almost healed, it's a clever web they've spun
[K-OS] "Truth'll come back when you let it go,
Seems complicated cause it's really so simple"
A man once had this inscribed on his tomb:
Don't have fallen asleep, in life's waiting room

Friday, June 17, 2005

Two bulbs that float in clandestine light
Mirrors shatter from the dead of night
Eyes that look within from that which sees
Shall climb the skies and dance the seas
Lift me bend me, make me still
I still can’t see until I’m on that hill
Stand me on the noon sunset
You can’t even grasp what I’ve seen yet
Take the time to find your own
Find me on eternal phone

Everyone's got a thing,
some will shine and some will sing
Some will glory at the superbowl ring
Some will fight in the heat of the night,
surrounded by the spite from men alike
Some will have a wife and a friend for life
Some know only the walls and their strife

Glasses for the observer now
We're born and live but don't know how
This paradox is the starting line
We need someone, to this define
Man or woman, thing or beast
From west or south, north or east
The morals of of this ticket holder
Must be be of someone much much older
It's that which clutters, misplaced value
This load of shit they try and sell you
Be at peace and listen still
It's this cup of whispers we try and fill

Monday, June 13, 2005

Hey it's us in the shop window,
All dressed up, that's all that we now know
Paper or plastic, how bout an upsize?
Your lips are fantastic, want some of my fries?
Fuck all this greed, Fuck those who look down
Fuck my robot face, that now bares a frown
We fear our enemy, residing inside
Inside is our lives, that we face filled with pride
As we merge today, time's ongoing march
It's this I say, from the depths of my heart
Tanglible wars are now left behind
The new battlefield is the one in your mind
Thankfully ours, is a war we can win
If we strengthen that, which lies under the skin
From the power of peace, a self god will form
Far beyond reach, for a radical new norm
Driven by money, technology can too
So here is the question, I give now to you
Do you trust in yourself, to explore which is hidden
Or trust in the devil, where bliss is forbidden

Sunday, June 12, 2005

I gotta see what's down this road,
Gotta see my heart lifted of this load
Your smile I know,
but your eyes, they're so...
You can't know, the things that I say
You will though, and it'll fall into place
My space, is yours for the day
So touch me, with those eyes as you may
I know you are scared, afraid for the change
and so am I, boy love is strange
Just give it a chance, hold my hand
You need to jump from the cliff, to understand
I don't think you see, how you light up the night
I wish I could close my eyes, with you my last sight
One time we kissed, your house down street
Before I was cold, your lips filled me with heat

Thursday, June 09, 2005

Ti~me, it takes a toll, please eat with food
Fi~nd, it waits too long, While in this crime
No conscience, objective mime
Sit and listen to your.. lust
Further from that which matters must
Toke a book it leaves today, no biography
Time it takes a toll, it takes a toll, it taks a toll
It's mine to sentance daily
It's mine to sentance daily

Sunday, June 05, 2005

She's just an extra part, in the movie within her heart
It's just another night, alone in the flashing lights
It's just another tick from the hand that won't hold her own

His jokes could make them grin, but he never quite fit right in
It's just another day, com'n and smoke the blues away
It's just another note that will never see her eyes, he sighs

We walk the grid with grace, but they can't even look me in the face
As freedom is another stain, com'n and wash my brain again
It's just another thing that doesn't have to be this way

Angels, here now. We sentance ourselves to hell
Heaven, for all. We're alive and that's above their wall

Wednesday, May 18, 2005

Life and death roll over in fire until they mate
A slice of time will do it' s job to see them separate
Never ever have I seen it done like this
Emotion everything outside the void called bliss
A mirror now will show me my true face
Stars cascade right out my eyes to see the edge of space
Just ask the question, come on just ask me please
I know the answer even before you can conceive

Step by step, into my plan, come prove that I'm still here!
Outside of time, these notes are mind, to the silence I shout fear!
For every space, the truth is faced. Just see it in your eyes.!
You hold the key, now come find me, allow me to demise!
I got future, in today. It's unclear, but not dismay.
In time I'll find who is looking back on me now
This time I'll love that I am here, and not in the clouds.
I got my life, that's pretty good. I'm under the knife, that's understood.
I don't know where we're driving, but these signs have dates
I know why we're dying, it's these corporate licence plates
I got my mind, defender of my soul, My third eye is blind, but not on the whole
The dream is too low, so my mind is high.
The shadows they grow, with their net in the sky.

Tuesday, May 17, 2005

"Listen you lanky wisefuck, You need to go now.. before it becomes bad for your health" The suprisingly minty breath of the gorilla man before me seemed to cut through the music like the sound of fucking nextdoor.
I need to go? Where the hell am I? I started to laugh at this, holy fuck I'm messed up. The bouncer seemed to understand what state I was in and swiftly grabbed me by the arm and proceeded to pull me towards the door.
"If I were you, I'd call a cab and get home. You checked out upstairs a long time ago" said the bouncer with the goetee and the minty breath. Then again, they all had goetees.
"Roger that" I slurred out of my mouth and stumbled off. Now where was I going? I don't even recognize this part of the city. Fuck I'm messed up, taking those shrooms was not a very wise idea. The remeberance of this particular event seemed to instigate the sidewalk's sudden decision to turn into a moving sidewalk. I stopped walking, just to make sure that I could without the sidewalk carrying me away. I had two options that I saw, or could even focus my mind enough to think about right now: 1. I could smoke some pot. The advantage here is that I could think a bit more clearly, it would probably negate some of the liquor. The downside to this is that while clearing my mind a bit, it also speeds it up and makes me freaked out while on shrooms, and a bad trip is not what I need right now. The alternative is to take the pill of E I have on me and try to pick up. The downside to this, combining liquor with an mx-bomb is a rather interesting mix and the results tend to be the same.
"Hey there sexy"
The voice hit me like bad poker hand, unexpected noises can sound quite weird when you're zooming. I turned my head around to see the face I had not seen in a very long time. She was completely different, mature, sophisticated. The only thing that had not changed was the fact she was sexy as hell.
"Veronica, Hi, God you look incredible" I said, and I had to say, even though her tits, and the rest of her red button up shortsleeve was starting to move in ways only capable when on hallucinagens.
"I could say the same thing about you, wow you've discovered the gym I see. No offense, but you were always sort of a nerd" The woman's snide comment was very much expected, and the small grin that slipped across her face might as well have been a neon sign. You see she was, and so continues to be now a slut at heart. I knew her back in high school, to be honest I didn't think she'd go anywhere.
"Do you wanna get somethin to eat? or Drink perhaps?" I said, in a rather suave manor.
"Do you don't have to yell" She said, in a much more suave mannor. "Here come on follow me" She said as she walked past me. "You should probably do what she says" her ass whispered to me and signaled for me to follow. With a snide smile of my own I quickly popped in the E. My life is great I thought.
"So Veronica, I think it's only fair to tell you now that I'm completely fucked up, I... I don't really know what's even going on" explained as I caught up, it took a while as the sidewalk was moving in the opposite direction.
"Can you fuck?"
"I would think so yes"
"Well then that's all that matters, we're going to my house, it's near here." She gestured with her delicate hand in a swooping fashion, so in other words, in no direction whatsoever. Why do you even care? What is a direction when you really think about it?


The question seemed to haunt my thoughts on the way to her house, the walk could very well have been around 17 hours or maybe just 11 minutes. Time distortion on this many drugs is unreal, especially with shrooms. Fortunately for me, they also make me talkative and social, especially now that the E is kicking in. Even though my head was a portal to chaos, the words I spouted seemed to make increasingly more and more sense. That is, as I tried my best to not talk about my self and lie accordingly when I needed to. I shifted my mind now to a move objective view of myself and the world, shrooms are great for this. I had to say, I looked quite good, I was always a fashionable guy, and even though my life was a mess and I was broke, I always had enough to stay looking nice. As for Veronica, she looked better than half of the people who raised an eyebrow at the sight of my pupils. I might be fucked up, but everyone gets fucked up once and a while, Veronica thinks I am successfull, and that's all that matters.
The sidewalk stopped us infront of a large apartment building, I had seen it before, I recognized this place, and it gave me comfort. "This is it" she said, rather happily for someone who is so cool. She took my hand and proceeded to lead me towards the main doors. Her touch sent a chill through me that seemed to heat up every nerve I had. Oh yeah the E was in full force, I was holding the arm of promise, of home, it feels so fucking good.
We stepped out of the elevator that i have to say, started to freak me out. If you think outside the box, literally, you'll find two occupants enclosed inside a giant metel cube. Not a pleasant thought when you're in that state of mind. The doors however, did open and I was greeted by quite an upscale interior, in fact as my mind strugged to keep up with time itself I realized she owned the entire floor.
"Look at you, what do you want to do to me you sexy nerd"
Make you my wife I thought.

(To be continued)
Thoughts are quick, and if they stick you'll often be amazed
But you I'll pick, you make me sick, I'm caught up in your gaze
Don't pin me down, don't want this crown, won't wear it to your grave
Your legs arn't shut, you clench me but, it's you I try to save
The walls are bruised, I'm half amused, now come and lay beside
No longer fused, cannot be rude, I hate you say then sigh
Before I know, you make me grow, You hold on for dear life
Down you go, yes nice and slow, let's fuck into the night

Monday, May 16, 2005

The wheels are spinning on the road of my life
But every once a while there comes a knife
So take a seat, and make yourselfs at home
I got the beat, ears will ring like your phone
I never really hate but I get pissed off
I will relate, how she hit me where I'm soft
Her smile outshone, the searchlight of my heart
Her voice was so perfect, I knew from the start
Writing this now it makes me want to cry
I think I can go on though, for you I'll try
The smiles were sunny, in the labs of our chemistry
"I think you're really funny" is what she said to me
There was some past with her friend, this I can admit
So I talked with her about it, in a time I saw fit
She was in a jail, behind the bars of my happenstance
I drained my heart for bail, to show her my own innocence
If you say you didn't feel it, I would say that you'd just lied
We would talk from late at night, until the sunrise sky
Like that urge to sneeze, suddenly it was no more
Random like a breeze, that cut me to the core
I could be crazy, in fact that's probably the case
But it doesn't phase me, just tell me to my face
You didn't say a thing, not even when I asked
It's like the show just ended, and we were the cast
Tell me it's cause of her, or that I'm not hot enough
Tell me something else, cause I'm definately hot enough
Tell me that your ex, wants back in your life
You really shouda told me, and saved me so much strife
Hell just make something up, if you really do not know
Tell me to go to hell, just tell me where to go
I should have seen it coming, but i tend to not assume
When your feelings sent you running, locked you in a room
I will not judge, and I will not cry
But you know what? fuck her.. just between you and I

Sunday, May 15, 2005

My words are tight, like a boyscout knot
I’ve seen the light, though they yell/shout not
I wake up every day, a god to my thoughts
So listen when I say, music’s on the block
So listen up y’all I got a story I wanna tell
From the drop of the ball, they were sentenced right to hell
With shoes that sorta smelled and the dope they tried to sell
It’s the dawn of an age, as these letters hit the page
Music as a compass to navigate this maze
Lyric vandalism, Rebel soliloquism,
Hip Hop was the answer, but now it’s our damn mission
Pioneers rose to the top as they looked up at the judge
Pac had a vision, but now the ink is smudged
The book they say is foreign, without pain we can’t relate
Now they say it’s boring, as your write from your estate
Wheels, bitches, more ice than in the tray
This feels, itches, somewhere we’ve gone astray
This isn’t just quite math, but the division is quite clear
Rappin out their joints, not to objective ear.
There is a difference from art, and a clever mix of words
So where is it I start? To free you from the herds?
It’s not because I hate, I really don’t resent
I just see a dollar, where there’s only fifty cent

Wednesday, May 11, 2005

I fell asleep against your gaze,
I dreamt of that which does amaze
I am the flag, in the storm of your sigh
I am the deck, in the sea of your eye
I am the police, who patrol for your smile
Let’s lay here forever, and then for a while

Sunday, May 08, 2005

The rain’s been falling for quite a while now, I wonder if it will ever end? I thought this as I opened the small bag, all the hope in my life was contained within. “Time to do some baking” I said out loud, this followed by a small laugh. The walls arched their eyebrows in surprise. As I went about my business, naked and hunched over the windowsill and sitting on a shitty stool, my gaze shifted down towards the crying streets and finally settled on what appeared to be a business man. He was the definition of regular, presumably lost as he slowly walked, looking around and up ahead. This man definitely did not know where he was going, what lied ahead on this street. With the small floods running down the slightly slanted concrete, the suit almost looked like he was walking on a treadmill, one powered by the sly electricity of the corporate engine.
It’s a simple process really. 1. You take out how much heroin you want, usually putting it on a spoon with a little bit of spit and just like that, you’re ready to bake. 2. Add flame until the powder melts into the elixir of life. 3. Suck this into the syringe and after using a belt or something to find a vein, inject. BAM just like that, homemade divine intervention.
I slumped against the side of the window, a small grin sneaking it’s way onto my face as reality fucked me into the best orgasm possible. It’s raining really hard. The suit also knew this, now stopped trying to both shield his cell phone from the incessant rain, while trying to get it to work. I could see the antenna desperately clawing at the bombardment that was the sky, but it was no use, no one was listening, no one that he needed at least. I could see everything now, I could see the eyes watching the poor man, and hear the mouths. For some this man was a waste, an alcoholic abusive millionaire father. For some, this man used to be themselves. Either way, all his material possessions didn’t mean a thing where he is. There are no banks, no cell phone signals, empty except for the people.
I could hear everything; I could see it all now. “I am God right now” I thought. The walls laughed. I pictured myself, looking out the window of a skyscraper, looking below at the world I owned. I pictured myself looking into the eyes of the woman I loved. And then I saw…
* * *

Something hit the ground about a block back on the street, Frank turned around to see another object falling, it was skinny, but the tears were coming down so hard it seemed to push the object towards the ground even faster, when it hit he could hear breaking glass. From behind his $900 designer glasses Frank’s eyes flickered up to the window sill the stuff had fallen from, only to see a limp skinny fellow halfway out of the window. “People are dying left right and centre on this street” he thought to himself, and let out a small laugh. The man pointing the gun at Frank arched an eyebrow in surprise.
“You think this is funny Trump? All the clothes off, now. You’re gonna die either way, but I don’t want blood on your shit” the darkness behind the gun said in a cool voice. “That’s right, for you, all these raindrops might as well be bullets, this street has no end for you, Frank”
“You know what? My wife hates me” Frank paused as his own words seemed to change the raining bullets back into tears, if only for a second. “I’m richer than you can imagine, I probably own this street, and the crack you smoke. At night I stand and look down at the city, people like you, you’re an ant to me.” He paused a second again, scared the darkness might shoot him before he could finish his final rant. “But it all came with a price, I seem to have lost all emotion, I’ve probably shortened the earth’s lifespan by about 300 years, I’m cut off, half unconscious to the world. My wife won’t even look at me, let alone fuck me, I just came down here to get laid but my car broke down, I just wanted to feel alive, because as far as the world’s concerned, I’m dead... Satan if you will. So you want me to get undressed? Fuck you, shoot me... it’ll be bliss”
The darkness laughed, “OK” and with a quick squeeze of the trigger unloaded a scorching hot shot into his arm, then three more into his chest. The impact blasted frank off his feet, he was in the air just long enough to remember every single horrible moment in his life, but couldn’t for the... life of him, think of a moment of joy. The impact didn’t even seem to hurt, he was past feeling now, all he could do was listen and look, his vision was fading quickly, but he could see it all, every single raindrop, he could hear every single tear that’s ever hit the ground. And then he saw..

* * *
Clarence lowered the gun and quickly put it back into his coat pocket. He stared for a moment at the man he had just killed, a smooth puddle of blood now beginning to slowly form around the man's otherwise untouched suit. “I can see the sun behind the rain?” Clarence said to himself puzzled. He licked his lips in the dry night air and began to undress the corpse.

Monday, April 25, 2005

Why do we only ask ourselves deep meaningful questions after bad things happen? Does enlightenment only happen in conjunction with pain? ex. drugs - mental conquest, physical sacrifice

Thursday, April 21, 2005

The streets of my thought are patrolled by my mind
But the drivers are distracted, infected they're blind
So now our faith has come down, to money, fire, pipe and a big rock
So now, in haste we do frown, it's funny, the life we started and can't stop
When I find out, the world that I should know
I cry, sober to see that world as it's bestowed
We're fallin back, back behind the evolution
Power for brains is this the kind of substitution

Wednesday, April 13, 2005

Like the peices of a puzzle
are the stairs to my mind
As they fall in place
the higher I will climb
I walk up to the sun
Near the top the peices burn
Till they're all in place
I see the picture I have learned

Sunday, April 10, 2005

I saw the new view coming and I hit the flo
Let it wash my back not my eyes no no
All of the sudden, I saw my picture runnin
Talkin to my fear although it's not saying nothin
Hit my eyes, then my brain, then myself, and so
With disguise, I am sane, and the bookshelf's low
You are thinking, and my new thought's seekin
talkin to my sense on a european weekend.

Thursday, March 31, 2005

An ode to acirE

I picture your smile
I can see it on my face
My heart on the track as it starts to race
I can’t drink the water
I can’t breathe the air
Without swallowing pride
And smelling your hair
Like some ice in the night
My siren is this song
Everything was right
Then everything was wrong
I could stand here and wonder
I could stand here and think
But this ship’s going under
Yeah it’s sure gonna sink
Lifeboat for two, but I’m the only one
Goodbye my love, it’s sure been fun
I respond to the door
You’re not who I see
Man how I hate these chains to be free
Well I’m gettin tired
Yeah I’m running out of steam
Go on just take my self esteem
Well girls they come
And girls they go
Broke my heart,
You'll never know
Well the sun’s goin down
Yes this sure has to end
Could you promise me this my friend?
Everything is good
And I feel fine
This deal understood
While I’m on bought time
No thought of sleep
Though it draws near
No thought of life
Though it’s all I hear
I was down with her cinematography
Night’s film she’s the star and I’m just me
By chance luck ours eyes would find
Everybody was feeling fi-e-ine
Didn’t know then but my luck was twisted
Didn’t know either at the hugs and kisses
Search for truth in the bump’n’grind
Everybody was feeling fi-e-ine
There are no shadows bathed in starlight
Plenty of sorrow with the dark of sunlight
By chance luck our paths would find
Everybody was feeling fi-e-ine
Freedom has a monopoly
Conscience film and the star is me
By chance luck our eyes would find
Everybody was feeling fi-e-ine

Sunday, March 13, 2005

It's funny how I hate for one i've never met
Com'n wipe the slate, I'll win your heart i bet
You'll tell me that you can't while I rave and rant
Your words are a shoe and my heart is an ant
How can we talk? When my intentions are clear
You can prolly see my thoughts if you look in my ear
You've stolen my the burgler in town
Still I can't frown.. no not when you're around
Please get off my glasses cause you're all I see
When I rest for a moment, when I cross my T's
I guess I'll call it even, Or even a deal
You disrupt my thoughts.. but you teach me to feel

Monday, February 14, 2005

Intellectual coffee is making me sleep
While the thoughts in my brain are making me weep
A drifter on sheets which mark down my place
You can see the direction, just look at my face
I'll draw out this compass as well as the map
Just keep my hand moving or fall into a nap

Tuesday, February 01, 2005

Come walk on closer
To the mirror now
Now dim the light sir
Just me and you now
Sweet salvation,
No motivation
Isolation, I say to me
Come walk my street
We'll float on smoke feet
A circle road, I build for me
Look empty windows
No chance for widows
Population, me and you

Saturday, January 15, 2005

I walk with you right down the street
Under streetlight eyes will meet
I wonder should I hold your hand
The bed is where I hope we’ll land
Why do you wanna think
Why do you wanna think
Who needs to understand?
You take me home to warmth and light
Knowing you’ll send me back to night
My eyes will search your stare for face
I lean for a kiss after your embrace
Who would wanna be
Who would like to be
Alone tonight?
I don’t know how you captivate
All I know is I can’t wait
Your beauty like a scorching sun
Warm my heart, we lay as one
This is what I write
This is what I write
As I watch you run..
Disappointment follows me
Glasses I often use to see
I’ll take them off from time to time
Stumble around like a dumbfounded mime
A drop in the pond will ripple some strife
A drop in the glass, I’ll drink down my life
Reject me now or I’ll wake up and smile
Kiss me again so I’ll sleep for a while

Monday, January 03, 2005

I see it in triangles, with us inside
A trio our mind mangles, this I sigh
Like the angles that govern
We’re alike all us brethren
Looking out from behind the sun
I see the world itself and me one
Wipe your eyes from this life so you’ll hear me
A Salvador Dali, definition for you see
Tears fall to earth, as we look to the skies
A cut short branch, in evolution’s divide
Wrapped in hope, it keeps me learning
Maybe a shortcut, for that which we’re yearning
To you I’m sad it’s not true
In flact I’m glad, glad I have you
You can’t know the truth
I do this for you
With my view now anew
my worst fears ensue
The new vietnam, a consentual perm
For a price I have learned
There is no return from this place I have gone