Monthly Archives: January 2013

love like you were five

I’ve decided to come clean in this recent onset of ennui. I’m dying. The cancer I’d thought was abated is still swimming through the bloody canals of my carbon-based vessel. I was relieved to find out that it isn’t a disease of my own implement.


People I knew that were mean to me are still mean to me, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’ve always found it repulsive that people speak highly of the dead. But my people would change their demeanor toward me if they knew I was dying. What bothers me is that I don’t see the point of being sweeter to a dying person because the fact is that we are all dying. I just happen to know what I’m dying from. Is that what provokes slithering sympathies? Or is it knowing when? I didn’t ask the doctor how much time I had left. I don’t care. I’m refusing any treatment as well. Not because I want to die. I just see less of a reason to stay alive these days. The line between being alive and impressing others has been blurred and I can’t see a downside from my exeunt.


I wanted so much to leave a legacy behind. Some sort of evidence that underlines my existence in this current point in time. But I realized I don’t have to. Others have already done that for me. I wanted to leave an awesome set of quotes for everyone to use because everything I’ve done has been in representation of the little man. Something like, “I refuse to embrace a nation that refuses to embrace me.” That’s a statement everyone can relate to, nation being peoples. But my sense of impressing others is limited to the brokenhearted. Only the brokenhearted know the secrets to the universe, but that’s obviously a double-edged sword. I’ve already been written about, ages before I was even born. Movies were made. Soon these stories will become a piece of fiction as time will dictate and people will stop believing I existed. That’s okay. Everyone I know will die. That’s okay. We’ll be back, we always are. When the lines are no longer blurred, then everything will merge. I find it hard to believe that everything will be alive at that point. Life and Death is the evidence of Love and Mercy in a breath and a whimper, and our minds are the only dividing lines.

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summae feeling

One must remember that if it is okay to be born, then it must be equally okay to die. I heard somewhere that the only question of any importance was whether to live or die. There isn’t a wrong answer unless you think there’s a right one. I’ve seen people that don’t exactly reap the benefits of being alive. I’ve seen dead people still alive through some medium or other. If one truly takes into account that birth and death, let that really sink, are alright then what is melancholy? What is fear? Then again, just over the other end of the simple spectrum -what is happiness? If life and death are okay, which end is truly the beginning?

Our bodies get new skin every 30 days. In other words we shed our skin every thirty days, but through some conditional circumstances we can live with upwards of 30 years of the mundane ways of living. Often passing the blame. Bitterly, even. But if nature bequeaths us new suits every 30 days, why do we feel shackled to the one way we are going. Don’t get me wrong, some of us may like the way we are going, but if you’re not living your life for others -your life doesn’t mean much. You just shed your skin like a snake and scavenge. Life without philanthropy is a slow death.

Linear time isn’t our friend, and we’re becoming dumber by the day. Everyone is simultaneously credible and incredible. We’ve begun to run out of things to say and have begun to repeat after each other. (i.e. cat memes, etc) The dead walk the earth, with this zombie infatuation the world has undergone. Wormwood chemtrails, influenza, west nile, menengitis and the great stink cloud of china. The strange ritual freak accident sacrifices of 6 year old children of the last few months. Egyptians and Syrians dissing the Days of Sacrifice by blowing shit up making brother Reaper work overtime. The Indian woman who couldn’t get an abortion because she was in Ireland dying of septacaemia from Rosemary’s baby. The president taking the credit holding the pen the rule all nations. The gangrape of an Indian student to make her the whore of babylon. That father that carved the pentagram into his sons back and said he had to shed innocent blood. The apple symbol is on everything little beast children have. The trumpet swans gathering in Alaska. The unmanned dragon fell into the pacific ocean, designed by spacex, sponsored by 33 fancy pants. The twin, towering witnesses died in brimstone and resurrected as twin beams of lights into the heavens. Ok computer, makin’ ties is all.

I’m nothing close to a doomsday evangelist bullshitist or a psycho conspiracy theorist. Or a guppie lightworker trying to trace the lineage of my soul. I’m not a pacifist, though I’m only good at being patient. I’m a regular man with a good old- fashioned American debt, no future, and am probably a phillistine this time around. A savage. But where honest reporters are lacking any conscience, I’m back and I’ve heard everything, and am telling you this because my employers in a dream I had said to. Today, I’m Samson I suppose, finishing out my sentence. Check my facts. If you know how, of course. Google search should help. Someone is going out of their way to make these things happen. (kinda did a 180 from the beginning of the post didn’t I. Never liked rules much.)

The one that that all the people who know the secrets to the universe is that they’re broken-hearted. With that being said, I’m fairly certain that few to none of you heard me. Few to none of you heard me. Imagine fearsome technology before your eyes.


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rider on the wheel

Many of us have constructed a linear life based on a progression from adolescence to adulthood based solely on an accumulative sense of responsibility. A pestering sense we’re led to believe that is appropriate and correct, and whatever the consequent sum of our benign existence is just because it is the result of our own doing. But sometimes, just sometimes we realize halfway before the final score our lives have played is revealed that we must abandon the tactic we’ve employed if there’s any chance of winning or, at the least tie the game. We realize that the only way anyone would have a shot at that point is to let the pressure implode our persistent, albeit unavailing rationale into neutral nothingness as we adopt a new approach. Idealistically, it is a philosophical approach that is best applied to a team, but this adoption can sometimes serve its purpose best in a more selfish setting. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing because even if you apply a new approach to your own life your life is unforgivably connected to others.

Not quite a “spiders on a web” euphemism but we’re more like the crosses and links in the web, and the spinner herself is but a piece of the inevitability of time. The only constant proven in existence itself is time and even then time itself is not a absolute constant in our lives. They say life is a two way street but I can surely guarantee your reaching a crossroad. No one ever has 100% certainty over the directions they were given. It only takes 1% of questioning the possibility of anything else. It could be better, it could be worse, it could be the end of the line, but if you’ve lost your sense of mystery and wonder… well, you must take life very seriously.


Rearranging the furniture is one thing. Moving is another.

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