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!
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