"I drunkenly laugh and think we are like the salmon.
we grow up kind{suburbia] and swim into the ocean
to get beat up and ugly.{real world} and to go home
to die and to be set free of tasks and promise.
And the only ones who will rember you are the ones
you swam with”
Feel as I in a plane going down, all the brute’s squealing, just want a moment of silence, before we all die. Instead of screaming like drunken bastards.I think it is moment in time for a modern revolution. I scream” robin hood theory, think it reasonable, undestandable, fair, Make the Rich, Poor." Thinking back when i spend 9 to 5,with two days rest,to return to the same nightmire.I relized i could spent my whole life here, with the more important thing in my life on the backburner,working my way up and down and eventually nowhere. I worked, and tryed, and cared.But all in the hope to fufill someone else. I was loving, the unlovable,trying in vain to fix, what is broken.I am sitting in my prision,phone's are ringing,papers are flying.people are screaming,men are digging their graves and sharpening their blades, perparing for the battle.they are hired and dieing, before they make it anywhere.My body is here,but my mind flying from here escaping, as net's perpared to contain.I come to relization i am here.My co-workers jumping out of the 32nd floor to see if they still feel,or hurt. I walk out of this place,feeling shell shocked and deaf,mindless. The guilt of 30 dead men on my conscience,yet no blood been spilled.I am a world beyond them,a planet on which is mellancholy chants the air,everyone's alone accepting we all alone.The ghosts line the streets, and they are begging, for the words they need to hear.In there beds, the dead are singing a tune,while the whole world sings along.It is a song to the living and the dying,and the dead,which all in one the same.SHe is gone and will not be replaced.They fired me today,and i am happy.the feeling in this time were a river flowing high and low, I have burnt all the bridge,Built every wall, into the world to explore. The vestibule is open, all wide open, through all them, the end is space. There all is visible, yet to immense to comprehend In a world of fiction, good truimths over evil, all is well. But here the villians winning, they have been since we have been. Id rather be insane, then live in this cruel paradox, decided Id feel right,Me and people have construed this void painting of me.the vacant streets of life,and sensless laughing.Every once in a while i forget why this citys exist's.I go farther away everyday,wondering absoultly in no direction,though the sun would begin drop to the hill.My Thought's and presence could plague economys,the flow of money halts,the food is limited.The towns go empty,children do not play,There is no work and no participation but only wishing and hoping.We all lay bye the River, no matter what comes to mind, limply rolls of our tongue.everything is considered literature,The town is now changed, books litter the streets, the words that seemed to many true fiction now fill the air.I will stared at the heart of the sun,only to blinded and stand afresh.We danced the night away,drink with the assortment of blue,yellow,green pills blessings to world for it is our mother.Us feeding on the breasts, never hungy but always needing.Ive decided the purpose of my life is to be a writer,poet,drunk,drug attic.I will write a book about it.It is a unexscapable dream, the planets all aline.A land of kings where dreaming on dead streets,I am weaing dead peoples cloths,thinking dead thoughts, and I will go on about it until my blood runs sour & I need replenishing. I will suck the venom from the living and feel the times he has felt, because there is nothing left inside me, nothing I have ever done or said that has never been done or said.Might try To get lost but I’d just end up where I started. I’ve seen this point of my life coming to This day complete before it had, guessed I was hoping I wouldn’t be here. Here on the standard Existence. If it could be proved I’d doubt it, call it Hipocracy, a slap in the face to the intellectual, scholar, gentlemen and the fool. Start to Question sanity, and then begin to question my own. I contest the world is flat and damit and you ever seen a round earth, thinking like this could get you killed, but Were as alive as slaughter cows. I am like a child in that way I cherish new experiences.The joker who drink and weeps in there 2 face life and the 2 faced world, an alteration in tides of senses in the way I’ve always felt. Walked as the dead among the living. For some times the lights stand still to see the fluorescent blinding the elegance of the stars and the universe.Hard to let go but easier to hang on then the thought of having to ignore you. So much cooler in life riding hand in hand with devil. Remember I’m the cheapest glass of wine. Your fine whiskeySame old 4 walls, covering all these towns and hall, all these strange new well-known faces. I seem bored with never ending space. To see the people who think existence is here and it’s great.Feel I should be naked in a plain four sided box and mend the walls realize I am free, liberated of need and cares, big beautiful world outside. Meet you on the other side of the box, the circle whose center is everywhere, yet no where. First time I feel alive, a surreal sense of surroundings, a divine line of open lands and free spirits, a reverence of what used to be, now unbound, this is all of its blissfulness in all its colors, plain bitter and battery operated. Children all weary, pale, cold, heartless featherless, slowly dispending, splitting, where is the sky when you need it?
Stranger, time involves numbers everything doesGod made man perfect but to the modern man,Man was not bullet proof.
Should we stay or should we Go
fly away, never come back to find no one
give us coffeeTo drink, drink, drink, go faster
and faster and don’t you thinkAnd all I do is
work, sleep, ****.doesent really sound like love
Always gloomy only functional when it’s nice. Farwell fair weather, hello rain, mr.misery.they call it, Mr. Life Mr. Death falling slow and silent thought airless space. Seems they face the sky in defiance, of the blood soaked battle ground freeways of the tomorrow.
