It’s hard to trust the people you love with love alone. We are far too old to take things seriously and far too young not to be stern with our future. Our ambition may very well be our ruin, but we suck in our stomachs, puff out or chests, and get on our marks anyway. how can the future be yours if someone else makes the rules anyway. No one is the most clever person in the world but everyone is always more clever than you. When your number is called, you better know exactly why you stand where you do because not knowing makes you wane and wander with trembling trigger fingers and a bad line of vision. You’ll hit anything but eureka.
Monthly Archives: June 2012
So what if you meet someone that encourages the pursuit of your own dreams despite how insane they present themselves. Everyone us convinced you’ll meet someone else. in fact, I’m quite convinced I’ll meet someone else too! if everyone is a creator, then that means there’s no one to step on. this hinders or ability to climb shit!
We ‘love’ in life, do we not? (As far as stupid rhetorical questions go, that should leaf the day.) I’m a firm believer of the ‘love at first sight,’ proclamation myself. However, I don’t believe in the statement of ‘soulmates’ or ‘love of or lives.’ Surely some of us are doomed to catch such an illness, but by no means is it to be a terminal ailment. There are great loves (plural) of our lives and there are soulmates as numerous as the crew of a sailing vessel.
I’m not advocating polygamy or anything of the sort, despite us all really being just animals, but or souls resonate to other souls we run into, which confuses us before it confounds. I rather find it to be a tough argument to dictate the consorts of or spirit. Even the most secular persons have brandished the word, soul, with conviction, thereby negating atheistic claims. (atheist work in absolution so there it’s no room for them to rebuke.)
When one soul is finished with another, is the only thing I find more agonizing than farewells from friendlier faces.
I’m moments away from having my soul bid farewell to another of whom it has loved. But he is not in tune with his soul, so he will never reap his reward. whatever the debt we owed each other had been paid, but he will have to pay again in his next life because his conscience is far too juvenile to grant him an adept comprehension. We met people as such in life, fated only to live the basest of our worldly treasures. but why go on pleasing those who will never be pleased? We’ve much more to do than to wallow over these.
‘wool, you seem a tad afflicted with the impression that you’ve purchased my freedom.’
‘what are you babbling about? You owe me money, therefore, must do what I say.’
‘on the contrary, my fellow flunky. For reasons of which I am monetarily indebted to you, have no grounds on which I must do what I ought.’
‘what the fuck do you mean? You owe me!’
‘I’m not refuting that bit of fact, I’m merely saying that my freedom was not mine, and hadn’t been if my property for you to purchase. I’m ever so grateful that you’d lent me your assistance in my time of need.’
‘then we’re in agreement, you have to do what I tell you.’
‘again, I must clarify your presumption with the fact that I do not. I merely owe you money you’d lent me. You have the right to collect interest of course, however, and I must state this with absolute, my freedom us not what I owe you.’
‘I don’t get it.’
‘…and I gathered as much through your continued miscalculation of my debt. My freedom belongs to another party.’
‘you’re throwing a party now?’
‘no, I am indulging in the social restorations through the tossing if any parties, I meant my freedom was purchased by someone who is not you.’
‘one does not freely divulge ones clients so forwardly.’
‘so you’re saying you owe me money, but you won’t do shit I ask you to?’
‘your money was exclusively for the upkeep if my sustenance, which dually impacts the sustenance of your own accord. However, my freedom was not purchased with currency.’
‘Then who owns you?’
‘I am not am object of which to be owned.’
‘fine… Who doth you owe thine ass-eth to, then.’
‘if by ass-eth being a reference to my freedom, then I shall answer with the party’s title. But I cannot give you their name.’
‘well, who the fuck then?’
‘God… is who the fuck, my brother. And he purchased my ass-eth with wisdom.’
‘fuck that, I own your ass.’
‘your intellect dictates otherwise, sir.’
‘where does this party live, I’ll go have a talk with them.’
‘you won’t have enough petrol in your car not fanfare to reach their whereabouts. But is be more than happy to relay a message in you’re stead.’
‘they have email?’
‘would you like the business address or private?’
‘there are numerous accounts.’
‘their business is deadly for the accumulation if wisdom, not money, I’m afraid my client won’t want to do business with someone who has none.’
‘well fuck you too, my cousin is moving into your room. we’ll see who owns your ass-eth then.’
‘even if the other party won’t speak in my defense, I know for a fact you could never afford my ass-eth with all the money in the world.’
‘whatever, ilk get the last laugh.’
‘My check will be in the mail, eventually. And I should advise you to try combining your last breath with a very good joke, my client cannot be outbid in the purchase of ass-eths. You’ve earned nothing if you’ve not earned a good laugh. Farewell, old boy.’
‘you still owe me, bitch.’
‘money. let us not forget I owe you only money. Not my respect, but I’ll throw in pity for the fuck of it all.’
I’ve been guilty of living just to survive. I’ve broken much including countless sweats when I had no means left upon which to validate my ticket to live life by another’s standards. Dante didn’t write a consequential vision he saw with Virgil, but of the place our day to day drudgery propagates. A life of servitude to the notion of survival is full of shit compared to a life of living among the humdrum.
Show me a sick and withering flower and I will heal it. Show me a vine of grapes and I will show you how I will turn water into wine. Show me a field of grass and I will show you how I walk on water. Show me a matter of fact and I will show you magic carried in the wind. And you bet that sweet ass of yours it’ll be a good show. Buk always said it was hard to be surprised once you’ve already seen hell. It’s that little pattern that I used to convince myself was the beanstalk of which to climb. This is the secret I’m not allowed to share because there isn’t much room on the bus, and frankly, my sisters and I don’t believe you’ve got the mind to stowaway to paradiso.
Outside the castle gates a strong clear voice asked, ”What do you give a man that has everything?
”You give him a fuckin’ break.” now with his youth again, he says, ”a-qe-ra-si-ja-s.
”is that it?”
”that’s the rub, at least that’s what Sophia said.”
”then it must be. Let us have some wine.”
”a beer for me.”
I see all the things that my friends have become and say to myself that I could’ve been then too. my best thinking is done on the to of am empty parking garage where even cars dreams elsewhere. and I awe all the things that I could have been.
A fool is someone who doesn’t pay by the rules, and a rebel is someone who refuses to. The subtle difference falls victor into the hands that can discern the difference. Yet there is no salvation for the one that cannot name the factor that divides a fool from a rebel. And a rebel without a cause us the most foolish of all. but the rebel with a cause will never be glorified for that is his curse. His absolute salute to the king.
” suck it up!” ” everyone hates their job” ” no one had a good boss” … These are the words of the rebels that perpetuate the machine enslaving us all. Of course we don’t believe in the king when we think we’re each and everyone odd us a king.
I announce now that I am a royalist and perhaps a ronin, because I don’t believe in the clowns that tell us what they think the king has said. The king will speak when they speak, and we will know it when they do. So tell us one more time that or lives are soused to suck ass, and I will tell you that only you will suck the ass of your own words for eternity. That is the hell you have given yourself. Your tax returns only mean so much to the fool that laughs their ass off with the king.
We’re a tree,
We’re the soil,
We’re the buds, we’re the thorn’s,
We’re the stem,
We’re the skin,
We’re the overcast,
We’re the element,
We’re the idea,
We’re the doubt
We’re the faith.
We’re your look to your left,
And the look to the right.
We’re the streets you cross,
We’re the streets you might.
We’re the rain,
We’re the sunshine.
We’re the paint,
We’re the prime.
We’re the nuts,
We’re the bolts.
We’re the reluctant,
We’re the jokes.
We’re the miasma,
We’re the amoeba,
We’re the spirit,
We’re the science,
We’re the trying,
We’re the trying,
We’re the triumph,
We’re the forfeit,
We’re the try.
We’re the rain,
We’re the plain,
We’re the flame,
We’re the wind,
We’re nickels and dimes
We’re not yours and mines.
We’re doing it right under your noses,
Were doing it from the shadows when you think we’re sleeping at night.
You’re just a rock.