High up on the crumbling dry rotted up toxic mold infected ramparts of my old cliched self designed"For Personal Entertainment only"faux stone facade fortress of overcompensation and patchwork situational personality, I suddenly find myself in survival mode, standing the traditional impending death watch. I am posted way up and way,way to precariously perched in a quick pounce emergency exit position.
I can no longer see,miscompehend and luxuriate in the beautiful insanity of my delusionary landscape from the bliss of a mighty,mighty fine buzz in a perpetual series of mighty fine buzzes.
I am all alone all of a sudden in this moment,alone and free of all the other versions of me who haunt me from the past and the nooks and crannies of my eternity,ghosts of my past,some who had never got to be,some who were but shouldn't have been and many others i just sidestepped away from in both good and bad situations,situations where the opposite of what was by the form of the moment dictated as right was standing in the way of the chemically required wrong. The hunting blinds in the designated stalking shadows right behind my eyes are empty of all those other me's.
and i am
A little terrified in the rarified air up on this ledge once designated as the Official"Coign of Vantage",a stategic plot spotting spot in the cneter of my multi-layered interdimimensional delusionary kingdom,layers all at odds against each other.
in the abscence of a once so lofty presumptiousness i can no longer marvel at this extravagant monolith constructed piece by piece with the technical form dictated principles of an internally anarchistic existence.An existence that was always in a state of flux influenced by the constantly changing spectrum of my perspective due to the complexity of my constant multi-flavored chemical ingestion.
right here today(tonight),in this seconds right here,right now snapshot i find myself swaying and praying in the face of an inner storm of me.A storm brewing from the contrast of the hot adrenaline
flashes of wounded pride and the indignation of my addictions failure to show me how to trancend and the cold ominous back of the neck tingling visceral premonition of my sanities death in the belly of my soul,A storm coalescing and preparing to surge and emerge out of me from the self induced coma of lucidity I long used to save the half dead life of my preferred delusions from the shock of any real time cognitive focus on the futility of my actual physically addicted life and the addled emotionality of the chemical version of me.A version now on life support and in terminal straits.
The battle flags of my once so highly vaunted psuedological grand delusions falsely justified misperception of life are now whipping and ripping in the gale force fringe winds of that inner storm, flags now just torn and tattered remnants and sad reminders of my once so perfectly arrayed and brightly colored army of cliches.
Standing on the last buckling legs of my hypocrisy,I am now beginning to see the futility I missed then and then again of repetitively seeking dose after dose of a self administered anasthesia to obliviate any of that cognitive realization of the imperfection of myself;of always trying to escape myself by burrowing deep into my head past layer after layer of reason and sanity until exhaustion slowed me to a stop and gravity pulled me to a fully prone sprawl crawl and left me in the stupor of a fast fading rush and everpresent delusions in the back corners of my deepest inner dungeons floor.
I lived to lose sight in my flite until there was nothing but cold bare black walls.
The optomistic wishes of my histories of my histories early chapters titled"Striving to find a Perception of Perfection" had long been turned by serial frustration into desperate wishes,wishes that inspired my chemically assisted dreams,dreams that had called out to me from the low dips on the rushes sine waves to just surrender and live life down there behind closed eyes chasing illusions,illusions that just perpetuated morphing through deprivation into the delusions i used to disguise the reality of my demise from the original god designed pre-set version of me i was equipped with for this journey to a potentially enlightened re-ascencion to heaven.
Any screams for help to that me from me were so effectively muted by my chemical and attitudal saturation and their susequent brands of insanity that they were relegated to a life so far down on the aural spectrum,on frquencies so obscure and distant that even the hounds of hell couldn't hear them.
It's getting dangerous up here and i am too scared of the thought of the physical idea of falling to metaphysically jump.
I can hear myself now though and in the clarity of this second of awareness i can hear myself whispering "jump",Jump off the ledge of these crumbling ramparts and into the arms of yourself,
"Jump"Jump out of this cracked shell of the delusionally created you and into the you in the world that is,
"Jump",Jump high enough to clear the outstretched arms of all the delusionary versions of you,
"Jump"., Jumpfar enough away from the now red tagged monstrosity of your addictions cancerous creation that you will not be tempted to seek shelter in the nooks and crannies haphazardly constructed by the random falling pilings of the wreckage from those bits and pieces the old voice of your false justification will try to declare safe for an old comfortable kind of habituation,
"Jump","Jump","Jump" until the false comfort of that old kind of malignant familiar can no longer tempt with an abandoned house candle lit cooked meal of sights,sounds and other reality camaflouging sensory kibbles and bits,
"Jump"Jump into the blank canvass of nothing craftily postulated at all where the possibilities of something new are endless and leave the nothing much of that something that really never was to pile up and bio-degrade back into the compost heap of irrational hypothetical why not's and chemically inspired just could be's i once designed this fragile house of wild card fortress from by stuffing random handfuls of fractured just maybe's into a big old bargain bag of convenient excuses and pinata popping it open,popping it wide open to let the pieces lay where they fell and form whatever it was they willed.,
"Jump""Jump""JUMP",cause if that life of half dead living didn't kill me then this fall probably wont either.
Monday, February 27, 2012
Saturday, February 25, 2012
I can change some ways,but I cant change who i am.
Well after way too many optomistic hopes of getting back in touch and in the flow that i was in,now all I seem to be doing is fending off the pessimistic twinges off my minds default position of what the fuck ever.
I always suspected while i was under the influence of my poison that everything I was doing was right up on a big screen somewhere but you know , that was to be expected.There are absolute and unavoidable side effects to chemical substances that none of us can escape or avoid no matter how hard we might pretend to try.
I was so busy pretending to be involved in some complex personal experiment of trying to study human behaviour and trying to spot the uncharacteristic physical behaviour in every one around me that i actuall figured out a lot of stuff.But at the end of the day i was just another reprehensible tweaking fool.
I had did about 9 flat years in one of many other small stretches in prison and I painstakingly reprogrammed my own mind.I got out and sent myself into exile from all my comfort zones and settled down to an existence of mundane obscurity.I was slapped into concious awareness by a situation and the next thing i knew i was off and running in the fast lane of real life.I was traveling around with the Big Circus and when it got to town I was one of a few dozen ringmasters all scurrying around full of good intention and bad behaviour.I was so wrapped up in the proffesionally preffered image of myself that i did not have time to work on the the bare minimum daily requirement of me i needed to get right.
I had a brilliant idea or two and decide to half ass work on them but well,well well it seemed i might have successfully gotten rid of my predelictions for crime but not criminal behaviour.getting high is criminal and the way i got high was a capital crime.I liked to get mighty high.
now let me tell you one thing,i had been getting mighty high for decades and most people in the world have no fuckin idea of what tweaking is all about.there are a myriad of similarities like i said chemical side effects are universal and unescapable .I like to use an anology that i say we are all like bullets,bullets all have a casing a firing pin thingy gunpowder and a slug,,pow right?well the thing is there are a lot of different calibers though.Thats where we differ when it comes to tweaking i was like the primary round in a big bad ass Jeffery Nitro Express knocking trees out of the ground.
I will never make any aplogies for my actions out there in the big game of sub-cultural chemically influenced decadence in a back hand to your mouth existence of fun and games felony edition.
"IF YOU WERE IT THAT GAME YOU WERE FAIR GAME'"and that went for me too.I am sorry that I was a fucking big dog predator who strived to to be on the top off the pile and the last man standing whatever it took whether by brute force or weasely wiley scurrilous scandolous manipulation.I read somewhere that being the last man standing usually meant that you were standing in an empty room and that was o.k. too,hell that was what my tweaking ass usually wanted in the first place. to be all alone and to push the stardrive warp engines to brand new speeds and levels of reaction.
when i went to wallow in the filth again this last time a little more than 4 years ago it was only for a moment or two i thought.i used to declare that i was not going to fll into the cliched struggling artist thing but since life has had a tendency to manifest the thing that my mind and soul bring to life by my overanalyzing and cursing me to the very same karmic demise i swore i would not see or participate in.ha ha ha aha you stupid motherfucker get a load of your own personally designed hell. so here i am after another long jolt in places that most of you would seek to cut your fucking throat in standing tall after taking it on the chin and shrugging it off,the first second i walked out those prison doors i forgot about it no adjustment period .there i was and here i am now .pretty simple.
this time i am doing all the once cliched and laughed at things we are supposed to do to try and get right and it is a litle bit of a struggle n ot so much in doing the thing but trying to do it surrounded by others who can have a tendency to wear it all like a badge of honor or even dishonor right on the sleeves of the exposed soul like merit badges.
some of those badges are sincere and an absolute nessecity for so many who dont have the luxury or the curse of an overdeveloped shortcircuited brain,
I cant even begin to judge anybody or pretend i have a right to know what they got going on in the recesses of their minds and souls no matter how much i want too or how much i see written on their faces and in their intents and actions, now thats hard..
so i am going to go through this process,i can see every day how vital and important it is to so many people,i can see how much that life itself depends on it in the rooms and in the places where our particular kind of people tend to congregate.I am working on me and the face i present to the world around me and i an trying to remember that my actions and my words are the clothes that dress up the aura i project to the world around me.
i get the feeling quite a bit of the time that people i once knew or even better thought i knew are scared of me and or wonderering how long it will be before some great hidden selfish ulterior motive will rear up its ugly head and strike.
I get the feeling that others actually know who it is and was that used to live in the hypothetical privacy of my madman incarnations during long years of that mighty fucking high tweaker motherfucking dog days i loved to live and die in.
I get many feelings and i know that i could indavidually craft and structure the right hings to say to each and every person i know but what for,to create a whole new bunch of me's to replace the whole bunch i left behind and a few i am still trying to get rid off?
nooooo!i think i will just talk to myself here in this little empty cyber room and tell it like it was and how i see it as being in the language of me.
for forms sake i will right here right now apologize for any inadequacies of your own personalities society that might leave you with feelings of whatever when it comes to me if you know me or think you know me or think you know it all.
i apologize if anything i ever did to you made you take inventory of yourself and your place in the great scheme of schemes that was the game baby,
i am sorry to those who every time they look in the mirror think of me with whatever kind of emotion.
i apologize if i hurt your feelings,i apologize for the fact that i dont really have any remorse or regret over any yesterday i lived under the influence of the chemical force of my own personal addiction,an addiction that inspired my own state of internal anarchy.
i am sorry though if you ever thought you knew the me that i was in the times that i wasnt cause those times were the best i ever gave.03 to 07,you know who you and i thought i kn ew you but as the saying goes all i really know is that i probably dont know shit.
anyhow please please pretty motherfucking please dont blame me for anything bad that is going on in your own mind when it comes to any interaction with me,if i did you dirty or wrong it was in the flow of the game and we all know my philosophy on that and if it wasnt in that flow then it probably didnt happen and if by some chance it did then you probably had it coming.
anyway i aplogize and now i must be moving on cause i got a few million things to say.dont blame me if your feeling get or got hurt,dont blame me for any inability to comprehend or accept the truth of what i say cause it is all truth,that is real as real can get,i wont hold anything back and i dont pull punches even when they are headed my way,if anyone has any issues withn the way they are in correlation to anything i say then dont blame me ,blame genetics.
I always suspected while i was under the influence of my poison that everything I was doing was right up on a big screen somewhere but you know , that was to be expected.There are absolute and unavoidable side effects to chemical substances that none of us can escape or avoid no matter how hard we might pretend to try.
I was so busy pretending to be involved in some complex personal experiment of trying to study human behaviour and trying to spot the uncharacteristic physical behaviour in every one around me that i actuall figured out a lot of stuff.But at the end of the day i was just another reprehensible tweaking fool.
I had did about 9 flat years in one of many other small stretches in prison and I painstakingly reprogrammed my own mind.I got out and sent myself into exile from all my comfort zones and settled down to an existence of mundane obscurity.I was slapped into concious awareness by a situation and the next thing i knew i was off and running in the fast lane of real life.I was traveling around with the Big Circus and when it got to town I was one of a few dozen ringmasters all scurrying around full of good intention and bad behaviour.I was so wrapped up in the proffesionally preffered image of myself that i did not have time to work on the the bare minimum daily requirement of me i needed to get right.
I had a brilliant idea or two and decide to half ass work on them but well,well well it seemed i might have successfully gotten rid of my predelictions for crime but not criminal behaviour.getting high is criminal and the way i got high was a capital crime.I liked to get mighty high.
now let me tell you one thing,i had been getting mighty high for decades and most people in the world have no fuckin idea of what tweaking is all about.there are a myriad of similarities like i said chemical side effects are universal and unescapable .I like to use an anology that i say we are all like bullets,bullets all have a casing a firing pin thingy gunpowder and a slug,,pow right?well the thing is there are a lot of different calibers though.Thats where we differ when it comes to tweaking i was like the primary round in a big bad ass Jeffery Nitro Express knocking trees out of the ground.
I will never make any aplogies for my actions out there in the big game of sub-cultural chemically influenced decadence in a back hand to your mouth existence of fun and games felony edition.
"IF YOU WERE IT THAT GAME YOU WERE FAIR GAME'"and that went for me too.I am sorry that I was a fucking big dog predator who strived to to be on the top off the pile and the last man standing whatever it took whether by brute force or weasely wiley scurrilous scandolous manipulation.I read somewhere that being the last man standing usually meant that you were standing in an empty room and that was o.k. too,hell that was what my tweaking ass usually wanted in the first place. to be all alone and to push the stardrive warp engines to brand new speeds and levels of reaction.
when i went to wallow in the filth again this last time a little more than 4 years ago it was only for a moment or two i thought.i used to declare that i was not going to fll into the cliched struggling artist thing but since life has had a tendency to manifest the thing that my mind and soul bring to life by my overanalyzing and cursing me to the very same karmic demise i swore i would not see or participate in.ha ha ha aha you stupid motherfucker get a load of your own personally designed hell. so here i am after another long jolt in places that most of you would seek to cut your fucking throat in standing tall after taking it on the chin and shrugging it off,the first second i walked out those prison doors i forgot about it no adjustment period .there i was and here i am now .pretty simple.
this time i am doing all the once cliched and laughed at things we are supposed to do to try and get right and it is a litle bit of a struggle n ot so much in doing the thing but trying to do it surrounded by others who can have a tendency to wear it all like a badge of honor or even dishonor right on the sleeves of the exposed soul like merit badges.
some of those badges are sincere and an absolute nessecity for so many who dont have the luxury or the curse of an overdeveloped shortcircuited brain,
I cant even begin to judge anybody or pretend i have a right to know what they got going on in the recesses of their minds and souls no matter how much i want too or how much i see written on their faces and in their intents and actions, now thats hard..
so i am going to go through this process,i can see every day how vital and important it is to so many people,i can see how much that life itself depends on it in the rooms and in the places where our particular kind of people tend to congregate.I am working on me and the face i present to the world around me and i an trying to remember that my actions and my words are the clothes that dress up the aura i project to the world around me.
i get the feeling quite a bit of the time that people i once knew or even better thought i knew are scared of me and or wonderering how long it will be before some great hidden selfish ulterior motive will rear up its ugly head and strike.
I get the feeling that others actually know who it is and was that used to live in the hypothetical privacy of my madman incarnations during long years of that mighty fucking high tweaker motherfucking dog days i loved to live and die in.
I get many feelings and i know that i could indavidually craft and structure the right hings to say to each and every person i know but what for,to create a whole new bunch of me's to replace the whole bunch i left behind and a few i am still trying to get rid off?
nooooo!i think i will just talk to myself here in this little empty cyber room and tell it like it was and how i see it as being in the language of me.
for forms sake i will right here right now apologize for any inadequacies of your own personalities society that might leave you with feelings of whatever when it comes to me if you know me or think you know me or think you know it all.
i apologize if anything i ever did to you made you take inventory of yourself and your place in the great scheme of schemes that was the game baby,
i am sorry to those who every time they look in the mirror think of me with whatever kind of emotion.
i apologize if i hurt your feelings,i apologize for the fact that i dont really have any remorse or regret over any yesterday i lived under the influence of the chemical force of my own personal addiction,an addiction that inspired my own state of internal anarchy.
i am sorry though if you ever thought you knew the me that i was in the times that i wasnt cause those times were the best i ever gave.03 to 07,you know who you and i thought i kn ew you but as the saying goes all i really know is that i probably dont know shit.
anyhow please please pretty motherfucking please dont blame me for anything bad that is going on in your own mind when it comes to any interaction with me,if i did you dirty or wrong it was in the flow of the game and we all know my philosophy on that and if it wasnt in that flow then it probably didnt happen and if by some chance it did then you probably had it coming.
anyway i aplogize and now i must be moving on cause i got a few million things to say.dont blame me if your feeling get or got hurt,dont blame me for any inability to comprehend or accept the truth of what i say cause it is all truth,that is real as real can get,i wont hold anything back and i dont pull punches even when they are headed my way,if anyone has any issues withn the way they are in correlation to anything i say then dont blame me ,blame genetics.
Thursday, February 23, 2012
spring cleaning and a touch of inventory
Life is dirty this morning.I guess that is because I am walking down the street with my head down kinda like i always used to but for a vastly different reason.right now i am trying to reassimilate into the mainstream of society as the form dictated script goes.my problem is that i need to try and not pay so much attention to the world around me.since i am not living a felony chemical lifestyle perched up on the heights of a bad attitude looking for my next victim while suspecting every thing living and inanimate as being involved in some sort of twilight zone conspiracy against me for reasons yet unknown. i need to relax that terrminator side to side scanning habit of mine and i need to not look for the ulterior motive in every breeze stirred leaf wiggle.so i am begining by just not looking at anything cause in know where i am going and there aint no looming danger there.the side effect of that is that i end up seeing life from the same perspective as every morning of my every eternal yesterday.its all familiar territory when you look down.life looks the same all over any city when you can only see the gutter.
now the tunnel vision can fool you into believeing that no one can see you and no one really wants too and if they can see you you can fool yourself into believing that you really dont care,\.The old" i'm invisible"thing.
yeah life is real dirty in the morning and it was especially so back in my days back then when i was usually trying to catch my breath after a long night of dancing with the devil inside. i myself was usually to busy yacking to myself in the shit taliking language of a paranoid schitzo mofo who wasnt scared as much as he was pissed off at the presumptious intrusion into my thoughts by what i considered the bitch aqss world around me and every punk ass motherfucker in it.I took it for granted that it was all somehow about me and all i ever wanted to know was why?.My confidence,my arrogance took me a different wavelength of perception.I was the version of truman who bumped into the wall in the boat and said to himself "hmmm!",turned around acting like nothing had happened went back home started shooting meth intravenously waying Al Bundy like"Lets Boogie Bitches"!
i was way to busy being high and assuming shit to look too closely at the visually dimmed details of 3 dimensional life around me,all chemically wrapped up in the trappings of madman trying to see the rush i was feeling and to feel the illsion i was seeing.
in the deep of the dark night literal dirt was nowhere to be seen.It was only the figurative dirtyness of minds and souls that reigned.I was a busy,busy boy in the long dark nights,hopscotching thru the black of my urban jungle looking for even darker shadows to duck into and hide in.Lurking waiting for any inevitable slip or the perception of a slip by someone,anyone or something,anything to trigger my particular plot of the day into manifestation by the false justification of a chemically delusional "AHA"!.I always wished for a quick note pass or furutive whisper in my ear by someone trapped in the fabric of the conspiritorial tapestry being woven with enviornmental innuendo,behavioral anomolies and sub-concious suspicions that was netlike being precariously suspended over my entire frame of acknowledgeable reality like Damocles"s Sword ready to drop and constrict my sanity at the first inkling of weakness or surrender.Yes i wished for that someone that anyone, a compatriot or even more desired a lover who was willing to risk their own damnation and take a chance to create their own fate and break free by riding in the slipstream of my forlorn hopes charge into any infetesiminal breach in that false fabrics psuedo realities facade, but,well we all got to have a dream!
So in the lo-def landscapes of the night the only 20/20 vision was subsequently that of my urges,my desires,my need and my nuclear tipped indignant missile lock onwhatever possible particular payout of the moment that presented itself to me a any indavidual second.
All of any of my bluff,bluster and bravado,all of my carefully structured moral walls and my substance indulgences rational limitations were usually quickly beat back down into their designated whack a mole hidey hole at any minutely palpable sensory prick of a flavor of the days scent.I only saw what I wanted to see,yet I tried to force everyone else to see the shade of me I was coloring in at the moment with the neon crayons of the perfectly logical to me irrationality of my chemically influenced perspective;hunkered down rapid fire nostril snort breathing,clenched rotten and chipped teeth grinding and marinating in the toxic polluted anti-Aether misting up from the depths below my karmic purgatorial middle grounds delineation of a hellish self induced addiction of mind,body and soul to an enviornmental,chemical,behavioural addiction and the 1st. level of the living hell that comes with the oblique surrender of all rational self control and concious awareness to that diseases grip.
\For so long I lived in the spaces between actual realities shadows ducking and dodging my way thru life wrapped up in my mockery of living chemically cloaked and in a mindset of pretension;a full blown state of hubris fueled entitlement and denial stubbing the toe of my soul and cracking the shins of my conscience over and over again on the sharp edges of a hard knock life that really seemed to be spring loaded waiting for poor ole pitiful me to inevitably activate a hair triggered trip wire with the slightest twinge of any coherent focus on the truth of my lifes travesty from the beautiful rushing haze of my chemical fog bank.
I lived for those eternal shadows,I loved those constant gut punch life and death scenarios being played out in the back alleys and on the dead end side streets of pain and I died a little in any and every fleeting and oh so rare second of clarity.
The perseptually metaphoric still of the night omly somewhat soothed my external senses ,while the hectic chaos of the chemical sub-culture pulled my concious awareness into the vacuum of its morality forcing me to only be able to bug eyed see thru the fogged windows of my insanities malignant chemically exacerbated creatipon.
Inevitably in the dirty darkness of every little hide and seek night that little piece of me would die ,it would die unnoticed of course at the moment of its death.A steady peceptual stream of inconsequential trivialities not to be dwelled upon in the pompous masquerade of the moment,starring those like me purporting to be all piously Don Quixote likeengrossed in the stumble bum assimilation of some misteriously hiiden dimensions denied better lifes physical,emotional and chemical granduer.,Little pieces of me that once dead were picked at and scavenger gorged down and feasted on with glee by the crows of the chemical netherworlds even deeper and dirtier dark night,specters who get high on the chemical residuality and strive for their only vaguely posssible corpreality from the scraps of soul left behind on the battlefield of the nights depths by those like me .,pieces of soul with fast fading residual memories of life that can be heard if one listens real hard"silently screaming"like a cockroach cluster in a boric acid bath as the false dawns wind of looming perceptual change blows the last vestiges of the chalk lined outline of the latest piece of souls final resting place back out into the Aether to chase after those fading shadows of the night.
The early morning dirtyness of of life is excentuated by the filthyness of the mind and souls perspective as the light of the morning brings with it the clarity of desperations daily awakening and the realization of the futility of trying to continue the delusion of seeking an illusion in the hi-def slap in the face focus of the day.
Iused to just self freeze frame,find a hole in a corner of reality to hide from myself so I could run away as fast as I could from me(while not moving an inch of course),swearing to myself tha tI would break that cycle as soon as I could catch my breath,but when you run till you drop the resulting concussion leaves the voice of conscience traumatized,disorientated and concious awareness unfocused in the amnesia of the withdrawal that lives when you sharp breath,what the fuck,come to.
Life is always dirty in the morning after the death in the night and yeah! there i was .
Life is still dirty in the morning but right now i am not.It's all respective of the perspective.now I know I didn't feel dirty at any of those times but"AHA!"the problem was that my lack of concious awareness of the particular societally prescribed day to day reality that presented itself to my cognitive senses as a result of my addictive existence caused me to ad lib emotional scenarios and in the conclusion of those scenarios use false justification to avoid true reflection of self.All the reflecting in the world couldn't quantify and explain all the ways our concious states of mind can be triggered into a specific focus of perception or the past perspective of a specific memory.
It can get real spooky way down in the really far back there underneath a bunch of dirty cluttered up shit.I confess That I have some nooks and crannies with some tricky niches filled with my all vacuum sealed inventory of long somewhat forgotten stuff from thousands of messy interactions filled with reprehensible behaviour directed at hazy characters without faces to be remembered,to the forced into solitary confinement by blunt force emotional trauma denials of a specific histories actuality.Throw in an in between spectrum of a bunch of other no longer fit to be consumed mundane trivialities of a day to day hand to mouth existence under the influence of a chemical cancer, then add a big scoop of time capsule pellets containing unacceptable truths of self and soul concerning the harsh and shitty outcomes form the other party in a thousand rude interactions and the reality of chemically supressed consciences twinges of moral awareness over kitschy and selfish scenarios once played out on the center stage of the Great and Foul low budget self production of loving to live to die I once Oscar worthy badass acted out on the sidewalk stages of the urban jungles of my total addictive reality.;
little suppository sized pellets of total indifference self designed to be slipped into the asshole of my memory and extra super special real good and casually forgotten.
I could never quite escape the dirtieness of life especially deep down inside.It finds its way even into my soul coating everything with a cobweb of situationally guilty conscience that can be so easily triggered into the spotlight of right here, right now,yanked from the camaflouge of the darkest shadows of the most desolate lane of memory no matter the best plotted tactics of avoidance.
Under the coating of all that dirt inside I didn't have time to worry about the dirtieness of life and the outside of me.all those little doors and nooks and crannies with their little niches lay undisturbed these last 4years as I dealt with another wavelength of life that only exists to dirty up pride,dignity,self esteem and self respect,The emotional and mental jungle of prison only wants to emasculate the soul and beat down any hope.
The first day I walked out of that hell and back into the same old world that used to be my hell before I stepped out of my survival shell and looked down and for a moment nothing had changed.Then I realized it was because I was looking down,down where all the dirt, trash and dust settles in the gutter.Down where I and those like me usually settled to wallow in that filth.
I used to look down to avoid looking up at the grand delusionally twisted up spectacle of lifes chemically misconstrued big picture and drive my self crazy as my self crafted conspiracy theory percolated and started chunkin spit split finger fastballs at me from all directions.
I think I will be trying every day what just seemed to work right now though.
A big ole exhale and an even keel bearing and i'll just look ahead at where i am going to see if it is where I need to be instead of where i used to not really be.
Liofe will always be dirty in the morning if I look down and i'll always look down here and there so I dont stumble on any leftover wreckage of my own or someone elses long forgotten past.I'll look down to remind myself of what isn't for me anymore.I'll look down to see if someone else in the same fight to rise up needs a hand up.
Life looks a little bit better every day I must confess,cause I am no longer looking at ,it from the eyes and perspective of a world class dirty motherfucker.
Theres a little inventory for you!
now the tunnel vision can fool you into believeing that no one can see you and no one really wants too and if they can see you you can fool yourself into believing that you really dont care,\.The old" i'm invisible"thing.
yeah life is real dirty in the morning and it was especially so back in my days back then when i was usually trying to catch my breath after a long night of dancing with the devil inside. i myself was usually to busy yacking to myself in the shit taliking language of a paranoid schitzo mofo who wasnt scared as much as he was pissed off at the presumptious intrusion into my thoughts by what i considered the bitch aqss world around me and every punk ass motherfucker in it.I took it for granted that it was all somehow about me and all i ever wanted to know was why?.My confidence,my arrogance took me a different wavelength of perception.I was the version of truman who bumped into the wall in the boat and said to himself "hmmm!",turned around acting like nothing had happened went back home started shooting meth intravenously waying Al Bundy like"Lets Boogie Bitches"!
i was way to busy being high and assuming shit to look too closely at the visually dimmed details of 3 dimensional life around me,all chemically wrapped up in the trappings of madman trying to see the rush i was feeling and to feel the illsion i was seeing.
in the deep of the dark night literal dirt was nowhere to be seen.It was only the figurative dirtyness of minds and souls that reigned.I was a busy,busy boy in the long dark nights,hopscotching thru the black of my urban jungle looking for even darker shadows to duck into and hide in.Lurking waiting for any inevitable slip or the perception of a slip by someone,anyone or something,anything to trigger my particular plot of the day into manifestation by the false justification of a chemically delusional "AHA"!.I always wished for a quick note pass or furutive whisper in my ear by someone trapped in the fabric of the conspiritorial tapestry being woven with enviornmental innuendo,behavioral anomolies and sub-concious suspicions that was netlike being precariously suspended over my entire frame of acknowledgeable reality like Damocles"s Sword ready to drop and constrict my sanity at the first inkling of weakness or surrender.Yes i wished for that someone that anyone, a compatriot or even more desired a lover who was willing to risk their own damnation and take a chance to create their own fate and break free by riding in the slipstream of my forlorn hopes charge into any infetesiminal breach in that false fabrics psuedo realities facade, but,well we all got to have a dream!
So in the lo-def landscapes of the night the only 20/20 vision was subsequently that of my urges,my desires,my need and my nuclear tipped indignant missile lock onwhatever possible particular payout of the moment that presented itself to me a any indavidual second.
All of any of my bluff,bluster and bravado,all of my carefully structured moral walls and my substance indulgences rational limitations were usually quickly beat back down into their designated whack a mole hidey hole at any minutely palpable sensory prick of a flavor of the days scent.I only saw what I wanted to see,yet I tried to force everyone else to see the shade of me I was coloring in at the moment with the neon crayons of the perfectly logical to me irrationality of my chemically influenced perspective;hunkered down rapid fire nostril snort breathing,clenched rotten and chipped teeth grinding and marinating in the toxic polluted anti-Aether misting up from the depths below my karmic purgatorial middle grounds delineation of a hellish self induced addiction of mind,body and soul to an enviornmental,chemical,behavioural addiction and the 1st. level of the living hell that comes with the oblique surrender of all rational self control and concious awareness to that diseases grip.
\For so long I lived in the spaces between actual realities shadows ducking and dodging my way thru life wrapped up in my mockery of living chemically cloaked and in a mindset of pretension;a full blown state of hubris fueled entitlement and denial stubbing the toe of my soul and cracking the shins of my conscience over and over again on the sharp edges of a hard knock life that really seemed to be spring loaded waiting for poor ole pitiful me to inevitably activate a hair triggered trip wire with the slightest twinge of any coherent focus on the truth of my lifes travesty from the beautiful rushing haze of my chemical fog bank.
I lived for those eternal shadows,I loved those constant gut punch life and death scenarios being played out in the back alleys and on the dead end side streets of pain and I died a little in any and every fleeting and oh so rare second of clarity.
The perseptually metaphoric still of the night omly somewhat soothed my external senses ,while the hectic chaos of the chemical sub-culture pulled my concious awareness into the vacuum of its morality forcing me to only be able to bug eyed see thru the fogged windows of my insanities malignant chemically exacerbated creatipon.
Inevitably in the dirty darkness of every little hide and seek night that little piece of me would die ,it would die unnoticed of course at the moment of its death.A steady peceptual stream of inconsequential trivialities not to be dwelled upon in the pompous masquerade of the moment,starring those like me purporting to be all piously Don Quixote likeengrossed in the stumble bum assimilation of some misteriously hiiden dimensions denied better lifes physical,emotional and chemical granduer.,Little pieces of me that once dead were picked at and scavenger gorged down and feasted on with glee by the crows of the chemical netherworlds even deeper and dirtier dark night,specters who get high on the chemical residuality and strive for their only vaguely posssible corpreality from the scraps of soul left behind on the battlefield of the nights depths by those like me .,pieces of soul with fast fading residual memories of life that can be heard if one listens real hard"silently screaming"like a cockroach cluster in a boric acid bath as the false dawns wind of looming perceptual change blows the last vestiges of the chalk lined outline of the latest piece of souls final resting place back out into the Aether to chase after those fading shadows of the night.
The early morning dirtyness of of life is excentuated by the filthyness of the mind and souls perspective as the light of the morning brings with it the clarity of desperations daily awakening and the realization of the futility of trying to continue the delusion of seeking an illusion in the hi-def slap in the face focus of the day.
Iused to just self freeze frame,find a hole in a corner of reality to hide from myself so I could run away as fast as I could from me(while not moving an inch of course),swearing to myself tha tI would break that cycle as soon as I could catch my breath,but when you run till you drop the resulting concussion leaves the voice of conscience traumatized,disorientated and concious awareness unfocused in the amnesia of the withdrawal that lives when you sharp breath,what the fuck,come to.
Life is always dirty in the morning after the death in the night and yeah! there i was .
Life is still dirty in the morning but right now i am not.It's all respective of the perspective.now I know I didn't feel dirty at any of those times but"AHA!"the problem was that my lack of concious awareness of the particular societally prescribed day to day reality that presented itself to my cognitive senses as a result of my addictive existence caused me to ad lib emotional scenarios and in the conclusion of those scenarios use false justification to avoid true reflection of self.All the reflecting in the world couldn't quantify and explain all the ways our concious states of mind can be triggered into a specific focus of perception or the past perspective of a specific memory.
It can get real spooky way down in the really far back there underneath a bunch of dirty cluttered up shit.I confess That I have some nooks and crannies with some tricky niches filled with my all vacuum sealed inventory of long somewhat forgotten stuff from thousands of messy interactions filled with reprehensible behaviour directed at hazy characters without faces to be remembered,to the forced into solitary confinement by blunt force emotional trauma denials of a specific histories actuality.Throw in an in between spectrum of a bunch of other no longer fit to be consumed mundane trivialities of a day to day hand to mouth existence under the influence of a chemical cancer, then add a big scoop of time capsule pellets containing unacceptable truths of self and soul concerning the harsh and shitty outcomes form the other party in a thousand rude interactions and the reality of chemically supressed consciences twinges of moral awareness over kitschy and selfish scenarios once played out on the center stage of the Great and Foul low budget self production of loving to live to die I once Oscar worthy badass acted out on the sidewalk stages of the urban jungles of my total addictive reality.;
little suppository sized pellets of total indifference self designed to be slipped into the asshole of my memory and extra super special real good and casually forgotten.
I could never quite escape the dirtieness of life especially deep down inside.It finds its way even into my soul coating everything with a cobweb of situationally guilty conscience that can be so easily triggered into the spotlight of right here, right now,yanked from the camaflouge of the darkest shadows of the most desolate lane of memory no matter the best plotted tactics of avoidance.
Under the coating of all that dirt inside I didn't have time to worry about the dirtieness of life and the outside of me.all those little doors and nooks and crannies with their little niches lay undisturbed these last 4years as I dealt with another wavelength of life that only exists to dirty up pride,dignity,self esteem and self respect,The emotional and mental jungle of prison only wants to emasculate the soul and beat down any hope.
The first day I walked out of that hell and back into the same old world that used to be my hell before I stepped out of my survival shell and looked down and for a moment nothing had changed.Then I realized it was because I was looking down,down where all the dirt, trash and dust settles in the gutter.Down where I and those like me usually settled to wallow in that filth.
I used to look down to avoid looking up at the grand delusionally twisted up spectacle of lifes chemically misconstrued big picture and drive my self crazy as my self crafted conspiracy theory percolated and started chunkin spit split finger fastballs at me from all directions.
I think I will be trying every day what just seemed to work right now though.
A big ole exhale and an even keel bearing and i'll just look ahead at where i am going to see if it is where I need to be instead of where i used to not really be.
Liofe will always be dirty in the morning if I look down and i'll always look down here and there so I dont stumble on any leftover wreckage of my own or someone elses long forgotten past.I'll look down to remind myself of what isn't for me anymore.I'll look down to see if someone else in the same fight to rise up needs a hand up.
Life looks a little bit better every day I must confess,cause I am no longer looking at ,it from the eyes and perspective of a world class dirty motherfucker.
Theres a little inventory for you!
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
in the begining when sanity was once again in charge
Battered yet not quite broken,
Traumatized yet not completely incapacitated,
The heart of my souls matter moaned "Resist".
Resist the chemically assembled ensemble of hair trigger emotions
frustration,despair,regret,fear,shame,guilt and self pity,
as in off key unisom they serenaded my sub-conscience sirenlike,
seeking to lull,entice and irreversibly draw what was left of my free will onto the rocks and shoals of my personal addictions sea of death's darkest shoreline singing,
"Just surrender,It Soothes".
Battered yet not quite broken,
bloody toothed yet not quite rendered speechless,
The heart of my souls matter spit and croaked out"Resist".
resist the whiplash snapping,neck cracking,bitch slapping assault of bulk packaged
concentrated from 100% pure self abuses bad instant karma knocking brass knuckle torn cheeks back and forth to a cadence call of
"take that and that and that and that on and on and on and on"
in pendulumlike perpetuity taunting,
"Just surrender,It Soothes".
Battered yet not quite broken,
chemically steeped yet not quite rendered pickled,
The heart of my souls matter slurred"Resist"
Resist the daily altar call your self dosings false prophet
all dressed up in oblivions robes posing as a saviour.
A personal messiah preaching a gospel of sensory relief by a logicless flood of insensibility
a tsunami surging over the dank landscapes of my concious awareness
seeking to drown my sanity in tidal waves of claustrophobically degenerating endorphins
imploding and screaming
"Just surrender,it Soothes".
Battered yet not quite broken,
stereotyped yet not quite rendered cliche',
The heart of my souls matter then declared "Resist".
Resist the eulogy being chiseled on the toxic molded walls of the inner essence created
to be called you,
Resist the epitah chemically etched on your poison ravaged face.
"Resist"
"Resist"the slow suicide by self cruxifiction of the heart of your souls matter with the rusted spikes of a calloused aura of chemically inspired immortality
and a warped sense of carnalities temptation being nailed in with a twisted up and tainted perspective,
along with sensory deceptions jackhammer of false justification by your personal insanities
paranioac misconclusions posing as rational emperical deduction,
"Resist"
"Resist"the continual assault of your addictions affliction that is battering the unbroken heart of your souls matter,
"Resist"
"Resist"
"Resist"
"It Soothes"
Monday, February 20, 2012
As i look around me these days, i find that life isn't quite the suspiciously viewed conspiritorial stew i once ingested and rushed hard to swear it was when i was always looking to justify the schitzo theory of the day by assigning it to a pile of random chemically imagined facts.By localizing my perceptions boundaries and focusing in on the once considered trivialities of my immediate surroundings instead of the paranoiac immensity of the grand plot and all of its potential soul threatening danger i have come to realize that my once considered impossible to attain personal perception of obscurity was never really far away.whether or not i have actually come to some sort of true understanding of realty or even just taken myself to a comfortable enough of a place in my own mind and soul that allows me to preach and practice the form dictated company line i cannot say.i do know now that free of the shackles of me i find it easy to wake up each day and just exhale in a gesture of languid optomism with the clear and crisp immediate recognition that every thing is alright and just as it seems to be,instead of coming to with a sharp inhale of who am I,where am I at,and what the fuck is this shitI have a lot of things on my mind and a way of looking at my life thru the rear view mirror that kinda reminds me of some old coartoons that were called fractured fairy tales, it might seem twisted up and mighty weird but believe me you WILL take notice when i get to the moral of the story.and i am all about morals strange as that might seem to those who have had the experience of interacting with me in the gutter in full warp factor 9 flow.i didnot know it then but there was a destination and , every little atoms worth of my perceptual idiosyncrancies had a place in the formulation of the not so still life landscape of my emotional philosophy.RIGHT OFF THE TOP LET ME GET ONE THING RIGHT UP FRONT AND PERFECTLY CLEAR.!i do not do any soulsearching out of regret or remorse or whatever when it comes to a single aspect of my lif playing life's game out there on the streets.my mantra applied to me as well as everyone else."If you were in the game you were fair game, and if you barked at the big dogs you better have a bite to back it up.STAY TUNED. .
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