Rainy days,complacency and some facts of my souls matter.

hi there yesterday,this is today speaking.
now i know that we had some real good times and thoroughly enjoyed some real bad times when the shit was phbalanced all rush proper and stuff.Right now though dude i got to tell you that my mind is in a different place, my heart is tired of being alone and my soul is trying to ascend a little higher than the curb above my lifes old familiar gutter.i have done some pretty rough shit to myself and in the process caused more than my fair share or pain to others.i used to say "oh well!"and move on but i got to stop and re-assess that now.you see i am chained to the past of you yesterday by the links connecting me to some of those others who have there own perception of our interactions and find their own version of those events more traumatizing than i cared to admit might be realistic.some of those others have emotions for me that are way more positive and real than i dared to admit might be true because of the tunnel vision of my selfishly motivated cynicism and sense of granduer.it is funny because righjt now i feel so good and i really want to enjoy life and any time i can spend with any one i have ever known.i want to live for today all happy and shit but those chains find a way to instigate others to yank away at then.i dont like to choke so all i can do i gather them chains up in my hand yank back. that is where the real conflict comes into play, you see it is easy for me to fall back into the guy(or animal)i was yesterday.arrogance and verbal assault was my comfort food of choice when fine dining was called for and physical expressions of predatory aggression was the factory default setting of the chemically saturated split personality that was spawned by the side effects of the disease of my addiction.the internal anarchy of my soul was a festering boil of indignation and falsely justified entitlement.
now i tryed to isolate and stay all to myself but what i needed to stay that way just happened to be out there with all of you others of whom i allude to in my tawdry cryptic twisted up sentences.i want to live the way i think now different and positive,i want to move and groove my way thru life not having to look down in order to not drive myself crazy by looking all around in constant suspicious calculation.i want to just be and to be in the particular moment of wherever i am without looking inside myself to find correlation with yesterday.this recovery language and this walk i am walking right now does have its moments that cause me to think about taking a quick peek over my shoulder to see how far it would be to go to get back to a then if things get too bad but the distance is to great and the substance is to fragile and hollow.i dont worry about tomorrow cause i know i cant plan for that all i can do i plan on dealing with it .i dont have any fears or felony warrants and no body is actively trying to ,kill me(at least that i kn ow of).therefor there is no reason to ever have to lie again and there is no way i can even pretend that i could steal or do the dance of the streets and the criminal culture.got rid of all that mess by long long long years of re-programming my mindset courtesy of the Great State of California's Department of Corrections(God Bless Em)i got a lot of stuff to say and a lot of life to live and no room for negative regression and deviation.a lot of what io will be saying is hard stuff,pretty rude and will sound socio-pathic as a motherfucker.hmmm i guess iot will be real talk though.there is a lot to me and a lot to say.so yesterday start practicing your retirement speech and pick the music you prefer for your final dirge.and i will give fair warning and ample opportunity to those from yesterday who want to dwell there in perpetuity to stay there all alone talking to the fading shade if who i was to them.if you need to hear some specific words from me to salve your wounded whatever hey hollah! ikf not then let me offer you a generic substitute right now to hold yoU over.'MY BAD DAWGIE DAWG!"

Where are you now? Who are you wherever that is?

When I speak as who I am now, instead of who I was in our back then,it seems to affect you in a strange way,

The problem is my assumption that we have shared in a parity of evolution, and that causes me to forget about the word games I am expected to play.

Now contrary to the existence of many of those I know, I wake up to myself every day, a bit worse for the wear but better than most expect to find,

Slightly worn around my edges from cutting corners too close while ditching demon infested souls who could only travel in straight lines.

Our yesterdays were a fast lane ride in a long road of sorrows, a hard life that really had just one rule, simple and not too complicated,

" If you were in the game, you were fair game", and at the end of each day what you was, was what you were fated.

Sitting here in my familiar mental cell lost in music and illusions all vacuum sealed against the ravages of that old same ole same ole's still same ole hard times,

I find I still have a tendency to perceive myself as something more than a paranoid stooge with a "for entertainment value only" disclaimer stuck to my behind.

Now I do understand it is hard to be "opinion proved wrong" in a preferred perception of someone else, especially a spiteful one perpetuated as a guilty pleasure,

So I do understand it might be hard for you to imagine me as anything more than what I was when you last had occasion to take your measure.

In this right here, right now little space between the last song playing and the most recent daydream fading reserved for deep exhales and melancholy sighing,

Just who you were and where you might be now I have to wonder as sadly I can't quite picture you anymore no matter how hard I find myself trying.

All I do know is that I am stuck as that same old person in your memory, back when we last, evidently for you, tragically interacted,

We were on that long road of sorrows though and the weaker the walker, the greater the price was extracted.

I've payed the piper a buck or two on top of all the things I considered wrongfully taken, things the game dictated were not allowed to be,

The receipt can be found in my soul and the morning mirrors reflection, I am cool with me, but how do you feel about the sum total you wake up to see?

 

Are you only delusionally new in any reflection looking back at your memories of a then, unwilling to imagine me as anything different now,

Using a photo-shopped cropped cut and paste facebook profile façade to flesh out your own dessicated personality somehow.

Are you still stuck in a nightmarish 1^st person mode chemically infected sciamachy haunting you from way, way back then when,

Some original bitter bitch bastard whatever left you lost and tossed in a space with a sour D.N.A. aftertaste after giving you that first hit that started your spin.

Are you all pumped and plumped for show with nowhere to go, staring at an image all accessorized with dumpster salvaged bells and whistles,

Or to you tend to avoid honestly sober glancing at a cadaverous reflection all blunt force soul trauma reduced to shell and gristle.

Are you still chasing a frayed and faded feeling hoping to again feel like you used to feel sometimes when you really did not care,

Dibble dabbling in a little bit of this and that now and then here and there.

Well wherever you are now and whoever you might be there, I really hope you have found a you that feels like home,

Misery does love company though, so if you are still in any way at all playing the game, chances are you are not alone.

Me, I have come to accept this seemingly faded residual stain inconsequentiality in that world of ours I used to know,

Reputationally bitch slapped from the past, spit on and marginalized in the current grand scheme of emasculatory compromising some of you still call the status quo.

Now admittedly I can and do sometimes put a little extra on who I think I was and am in the grand productions new and old starring me that play in my mind on a 1000 screens,

A little bit quieter though I confess at the end of those illusions I still feel like I am in a hell, screaming a silent primal scream after scream after scream.

You can run away as fast as you can trying to get away from who you don't want to be remembered as, often times all indignant and holier than thou,

But you will always find yourself right back at whatever specific you that you were every time someone drifts back in memory to wonder,

" just where you might be now!"

So for those of you who say”hmm”just cant see you as being all spun and psycho-minded. Listen to the voice of meth.

So, during all this time, over all these years of peeking out barely cracked windows, suspecting every breeze stirred bush shadow of harboring a crowd scene and overanalyzing any and every sound real or imagined looking for the hidden face and ulterior motive it has been decided that all I have been doing is trying to ritually sacrifice my sanity huh!

Society is that how it really looks to you cause, you know it sure always looks like that's how you feel.
You look right at me and through me like I am just another
Standard issue bi-polar
Tweaker ass
Yuck mouth funky foot fool
All dope twisted up inside and out without a doubtWith needle in vein, struggling in vain
To magically "abra fuckin cadabra" vanquish the usual collection of sneaky little meth monsters, human skin suit wearing aliens and corner dwelling stuck in between tragically departed schizophrenic spirits all super fat hit hot rush squint eyed imagined and fleshed out in a well concussed back hand cracked around mind.
Hmmm! Oh well that would be your option I guess.

I will say this much though and that is that I would've been more than willing to sacrifice anything including sanity if it seemed like it would have gotten in the way of me fighting like hell to survive in a living hell and not have to risk anything close to a single strand of the complex web of insanity that kept and still keeps me sane in this always vicious and quite often terminal reality defiling dramedy of

Lost souled, ice cold
Hormonally skewed, identity confused
Bitches pretending they actually got nuts
And dudes with perpetually astro glided up pussy butts
A low budget production being bad acted out with token misspoken words
From the broken nerved irrelevant and absurd
On the "no dope" "no hope "cardboard box sidewalk stages that litter the gutters of the emotionally devastated landscapes of the cookie cutter downtown wherever that is the most current nowhere of any actual consequence
I happen to be passing through on my way to anywhere fucking else at any particular moment.
( stuck on mighty ducking hi stoopid of course)
Now let me tell you, I walked on and on and on always alone in spite of being paranoically figuratively voyeuristically surrounded by countless
Lispy back lipping
Script flipping
Simple minded little folk of every possible shape and size
All scrying for my demise
Under crystal dope smoke skies
With prying eyes
Sighing lies
All the while dying trying to keep me from any time and place
Or mind behind a face
That could show me the way to another level of life and perception
Behind this dimensions veil of strife and deception
With the ability to preempt
This kookie pookie spooky nightmare being consciously and collectively dreamt
And the focus of my utter contempt.
It is a virtual tidal wave of cold insincere insinuation
And innuendo devoid of any viable persuasion
That surges trying to drown me in a river bed of bone dry tears as I squint at every glint twinkle screaming from the shards of the incalculable shattered dreams of the at birth broken and bent while I thought bumbled along with crossed fingers hopelessly hoping to find some sort of exit signs illumination beckoning as I peeked over my shoulder from my usual face off with myself
Wallowing in the darker shadows way down deep
In the back black reservoirs beneath the captain's seat in the porta potty that was the designated handi-cap mastermind parking space for my crystal meth cursed soul
And it's under the influence 24/7 haunted nites blight.
AHHHHHH! Deep flensing breath!
So now to be honest (one of my biggest flaws) I did and do tend to risk all of the sanity I was most likely never supposed to have in the first place "let alone retain".
I risk it again and again and again on the repetitious tossing of a pair of fully loaded "fuck you "labeled hard luck life dice, trying to roll up a split second of "there it is, I fucking knew it" in a perpetual series of"ah that's too bad motherfucker"
But please; "try again sucker".
I just risk and risk and risk and choke and gag and choke some more on the wash baggy ejecta and the 1^st, 2^nd and even 3^rd hand no hope dope smoke and the smoggy essence of noxious psychic pollution drifting with a stale fuck sweat scent that hangs down to my sub gutter level and beyond far below in this koo koo for a crystal co co puff
Ho time, show time all the time realm of bit part playing
Open leg splaying
Soul enthralled victims test tube masturbated and created to flail away
And fail someday,
Victims/beings I will in Zarathustra tribute call the small
All standing fear frozen tall
Pretending to be real when there really nothing much of anything at all.
Now there has been a time or two or a thousand that I would shake my head and think
In the midst of that awful stink
That because sobriety caged the beast roaming free in me
That this dear society required a show of piety.
I would pretend to mentally declare that I wished I would get a chance to think I could dance and prance my way in soft shoe step and fetch fashion right into the just comply some
And worry not son,
Soul rot squat spot on the downwind sad ass bad ass side of the crazy train tracks on the outskirts of the no longer fit for consumption or presumption and not even safe to be recycled small mind garbage dump,
A place where I could become infected as expected
And unless otherwise directed
Display the proper symptoms of the epidemic and mimic
Those I call a mockery
Drinking daily d.n.a. daiquiris.
Hmmm! that would not have worked out though.
So on most many a day
I would dope chase my depression away
And drift to metaphysically play in logically assumed viable worlds created by supposition and theory
Only to find that all I had found was another dissipating rush shimmering mirage and an echo of laughing whispers in the vacuum of a deep sad exhales sigh as a new day dawned
And in the disappointment that reality spawned I almost pawned my free soul for another roll of those dice.
But most often instead I would in those seconds of sick chemical weakness
And obstinate old tweak stress
Reach out in futile twitch fits to as usual just miss getting a non-slip fingertip grip on even an atoms worth of any of the countless way out potential alternate realities that were constantly being created by my suspicions and theories to justify said suspicions that were packaged up and tossed into the mix of random facts and coincidental occurrences that always made me go hmmm? And then uh oh.,
Realities that swirled in and out of focus split second manifesting and mutating in the conscious dreamlike seconds of the stupors that served as my "medative trances",
Weird little juxtapositions of internal issues and repressed desires morphing into landscapes of slightly askew familiar places, places that at just the right weird wrong time freeze framed to demand my full attention taunting and then haunting in my fucked up and freaked out without a doubt
Subconscious dubbed conscience mind.
In the real time meantime though, here I be stuck just like then sputtering in neutral with my misfiring mental engine, trying like hell to run on these free fuel for all fumes that saturate this world full of shit, frustrated by all my favorite small and their politically correct, morally suspect hybrid methane motored metrosexual mindsets of slot fitting into living that are dying to fill me and lying to kill me, trying to make me assimilate by choice

With pleading voice

And likewise pretend to be a someone that in all my countless illusions or delusions I could never see myself being, a someone, an anyone or a nobody I could possibly imagine in surrender being,

A specter of me that in time would degrade to allow the disease of the small to infect the already cancerous jackass that I am and permanently trip me up in my chase to catch up to the last ½ step I lost when the right hook of an instant karma second slobber knocked me out of sync for the sins of something I have no recollection of doing, something allegedly perpetrated on and in one of those other realities, sins I am sure were laced with my ever-present aura of arrogance and most definitely directed at someone or thing small dressed and propped up to stand tall over some kind of all.

YEP! I am definitely hell stuck and well fucked physically so metaphysically

I am left to wander

While I ponder

This life I seem to squander

Hiding in the back rooms of my mind using the personal pig Latin of my chemical insanity to privatize my public access thoughts and intentions as I converse with me, myself and all of my I's trying to make sense of what I think I see while simultaneously laughing at myself and the

"What the fuck "

Spectacle I must surely be

By virtue of what I seem to see

In the reflective reactions of all the small who seem to share a sight of me

And see

Someone I must be

That only I can't see.

WHEEEEWWWWW!!!!!

Blah, bah blah bah blah huh?

Well now in the face of that absolutely deep, deep left field crispy inner cranium hypothetical I might as well take the polar bear plunge and confess that what and how I " really "felt on those streets so figuratively empty and quite literally surreal was like some sort of

Hi-intensity

Gazillion watted

Infrared aura branded

G.P.S. "there he is "chipped and E.L.F. spectrum Beta wave"ouch pay attention "proximity alarm equipped

Modern day ding dong don Quixote like all day sucker on a quest

To test

And reciprocate stress

While under extreme duress,

An energy radiating spark flashin, bolt crackling hi-pitched noise blaring crank stanky janky wild card carrying, in the flatulent wind twistin never blink

All good sense long gone opposable sore thumb equipped missing link

That stuck out like a speed bump in the very hi-days

On the fairy bi-ways

Of this neanderthalic retard slap happy clap genetically devolved world of follow the skull knotted, black eye dotted line to a bizzarro paradise of moral decay

Emotional desolation conscious unawareness

And chemically tainted insatiable chaos the small call all and after all

Into place it falls because when I think about it

(Wow did I actually say that?)

It is so clear,

It is only that well clichéd and way, way overhyped 15 minutes of fame and glory alluded to since birth that most people tend to look forward to and for the small sadly the only way to taste it ends up cumming in ten second increments of cheap orgasmic release

Hard earned and randomly scattered

While dignity got battered

And nothing ever did actually mattered

Sad anti-climatic little matter of fact pleasures that can hold the average and the small

Unusually enthralled

Occupying simple minded senses of perception like tricks flashed with sleight of hand while behind the real reality scripted scenes

And the bad back alley porno screams

Anyone or anything else they could in a right light figuratively be is being used up and life sucked right out of by the psychic fangs of many a twisted others empirically extrapolated and theorized brand of small

By impalement propped up to stand tall

And jerk the strings that connect to the puppet box world of the regular small.

Well now anyhow I tend to accept all of that(?) that was in reality nothing much with the after effects of the latest rush as I try to shake off some of the constant from deep in the aether launched metaphysical punches in the mouth,

All the while trying to display what I think and hope is a properly structured, well-crafted and realistically acted out aura of stoic indifference because I do tend to spend a lot of time among the small being frustrated by it all,

and after all they do tend to get irritable and subsequently pesky when not taken for their abased

In the embrace of the chase

Fake face value, and reminded of their state of unrealistic reality,

A reminder that can cause a crashing return to a state of conscious awareness that will interrupt their form dictated follow the yellow shit bricked road or "else" in the state of lemming like

"You are getting sleepy"

Mesmerization to the game of suffering and reciprocating petty little evils that tease with the vague promise of a felt and then redelivered pain instead of the usual nothing at all felt by

"Emotionally dead and sensorally calloused souls.

O.K. now where were we?

Oh Yeah! The old sanity thing,

Hmmm, well it is probably not too hard to put credence in a sacrificing theory seeing as how I am talking absolutely crazy Huh?.

Well sanity after all is a concept designed to be explained in small terms structured for easy listening and even easier understanding written out in large print syllable separated hooked on phonics charts brightly colored of course.,

And looking at it like I do.; well forfeiting that sanity would be an acceptable loss

With a tiny overall cost

Easily justified if the resulting cognitive chaos would allow an even infinitesimal sweat stinging crossed and squinted eye blurred vision chance

To spot a fire exit sign in the backstage gloom and doom

Fabric weaving loom room

Of this (o.k. I must admit) extremely well designed dimension of pretension.

I live to look and sometimes die to live in.

For that kind of opportunity now and in any of the illogical paranoia tainted and chemically spawned

"Just possibly could be's"

That tease and whisper vaguely hinting of a way to get to the

"Alice all torn asunder in wonderland worthy"

Just maybe baby

Interactive inter-dimensional

X-box type scenarios that I feel I would fit into like a pre-lubed love glove in first person bloodshot eyes of the beholder mode.

Situations full of R.E.M. dreamlike split second "how do you like this twist bitch?"variations

That parade on by in my stupors, click clacking along like the far back line in the shadows of a gallery of sitting shit spitting duck dumb fucks

Lining up with one or another of the secret small print conditional "if only" alternate perspectives that sit hidden behind doors 1-2 and 3 in the pools of illumination cast by the back and fill lights centered on the X marks the 1^st and only spot position I usually find myself all

Twacked and spagacked restless leg syndrome twitch finger stuck on in this

"Mandated by my betters for my own good"

Karmic penance serving

Computer generated 3d holographic ally projected version of an actual reality.

Now it really would help though, if in some split second of epiphonous significance I was

"deep voice in my head" told to turn it down a notch or two to you know, "close my eyes, cross my fingers and blindly surrender"

And I mean surrender to a fragile hope and its smirking promise of deliverance from the complexity of self- determination and conscious awareness by way of one of those basic daily dose blissful ignorance spawning invigorating rushes and random anything goes touches

That the small seem content to live for so much

In their under the back end of the bus

Just hush and don t fuss

Life without trust.

How sad for me though huh?

So sad that I have never been able or allowed to tune into that particular sub-wave length and that means

"That I have an absolute lack of any kind of physical basis for comparison"

And that in itself makes it really hard to even consider any kind of personal standard compromise.

Now it would help even more if I had some kind of kamikaze option, you know some rational blinded suicidal mindset and a tendency toward a

"Physical, soulful or spiritual subservience "to God, a king or an emperor or the such or maybe even something simpler like a small like submission to a master.

I have always wondered though about those I see in the glow of rapture or the sheen of desperation

Down on spiritual back beaten down bended knee reaching up for a someone or a something that by

Hook, crook, whip, chain and holy book decries and promises that by way of one of the great

3 in 1/ 31 flavored casket robbin one size fits and submits all dogmatic religious devotions, a higher path to soulful awareness and enlightenment,

A future completes with the gift or curse of

A promise/slash/threat of an either or reality and subsequent eternity as long as you subscribe to the mantra of blind faith obedience and a turn and spread the other cheek

And be the weak meek

Tweak freak

We seek.

I wonder if I would have room for that kind of madness in my as of this confused moment quite possibly insane mind and theoretically available for rent soul.

BUUUUTTTT!!!!

HA HA HA HA HA .,

It just couldn't be that easy.

So all that is left for me to do is to continue to take and gag on my force fed bad medicine while lying in the cut in this hi def. 3D suspect perceptory existence devoid of any legitimate viable seeming options for actual soulful self-determination and suspect, suspect, suspect and then of course assume.

I assume that all of those I call the small have by generations of cellular manipulation been genetically re-tuned to a single big brother

Or big pig if you'd druther

Sing and puppet dance along Wii like channel that optimizes a maximum subliminal control over the pre-packaged basic hi or lo setting minimum mindset personality types who usually end up hidden in crowd scenes and designated as emergency front line cannon fodder,

Specimens put together from pieces found only in the pick em apart and build em cheap yourself section on the back dock of the "not quite like seen on t.v."Cut rate disposable people store

Located in the skid row

"All obsolete stolen goods"

Swap meet, where the reality of the final finished product never seems to live up to the faded low toner almost pretty color pictures in the copy right infringing photo-copied big catalog book of personality possibilities.

With that said I must also say that I also egotistically assume that this flawed 1 point and only body, mind and soul of mine is what I would like to think was once intended to be a super dooper cutting edge top of the line model devoid of the standard be a good toy boy and comply chip and that is what prevents me from out of constant frustration even considering and possibly lowering my standards and my aim in a vacuum of coherence and a no focus duh! Gaze frozen super stoopid grin

Lip drool dripping dipping down

To take another ho-hum dumb stumble bum

Just let me cum

Advantage of the every one is a bitch

Target rich

Low blow way down and dirty metro-fucking disgustingly sexual go-go glory hole

And choke on a pole

Eco-system on the fringes of the view finder of the fixed wide lenses posterity recording those in the gutters of the aforementioned great computer generated

Holographically projected

Tuned to keep a real motherfucker rejected

In a Gods vomit ejected

Pseudo-reality where the small inevitably fall

To forever more call all.,

For me it is a soft shoe tip tap happy foot

Two step sand shuffle, only it's in the dance hall of the dread who haunt the dead in a ghetto of untranscendable and cursed souls as I try to inject a rush of a most beautiful chemical oblivion

Hoping to find just a second of my conscience in unawareness and perhaps also find even the misperception of a millisecond of sensory obscurity all the while ducking

Being fucked

Hating being stuck

Here with my fears of my peers 

In the middle of this riddle

Without a clue of how to escape the attention of or to kill you, you, you and oh yeah probably you too!

Yep stuck right here where my faithfully believed in heaven would be a blind spot, a blunt, good rock-n-roll and even the vaguest promise of a proper rush and the taste of an anorexic bi-polar

Hood rat bitches stank ass hoochie koochie

And where my hell is the relentless whining in my ears and the swirling this way and then that photonic vortex with a flashing in and quickly out of focus mandala styled ward that in eyes open or closed I swear is locking me out of my true existence,

My infinity and its subsequent alternate dimensionality and locked up securely in this nightmare

Lost in the land of the small

And not much of anything or anyone at all.

And so…, it is always brave face forward and furitive glance backwards as I follow in my quest

To best this test

The petrified fossilized written footsteps of long dead and iffy prophets and saints, demented mental giants and other supposedly enlightened and declared transcended soulful anomalies

All the while roasting in the residual nuclear energies of forced into flesh fallen angels and the short circuited similarly radioactive devil "wishing"

I could learn to feel some kind of even a little hate because of this phase of life of mine being involuntarily lost

Instead of living to maybe love the life I have yet to find again

The life I cannot quite seem to focus in on and re-manifest in

On one of the other worlds inhabited by one of the other possible ME's that I can see reflected

In the millions of shards from my souls broken mirror,

All because I cannot sit still and avoid the constant whipping around reflex action of my head towards the blast of screaming noises on the periphery of my senses

As I gleefully look to see another small who risked their tiny all trying to influence a little of my fate only to lose their all running head first into an oblivions wall, in last gasp desperation still trying to inspire a control losing reaction in a mind already long ago convicted of harboring the fugitive "madness".

Still though I would rather be a madman in the solitude of my one man mosh pit

Than another slave manning an oar on the good ship

"Folly Rot "

Circling the cesspool of the small.

So, now where were we, oh yeah,

I am supposedly about to sacrifice the last vestiges of an already questionable sanity huh?

Well good riddance I say!

Cause after all as you can clearly see;

I got a lot of other shit on my mind!

 

This was from 2003 when I first thought I had some real shit figured out.

there was a time when nothing much mattered to me except the next fix in the multi-leveled structure of my addictions immense diversity. There was no way I was going to do anything but get mine and I didn't care in the slightest about the great downward spiral that had so many surrendering in soul and mind to a hell of madness and in their bodies to disease and death. Basically though that was just what I was doing though dying and it took a long time before I decided that I would rather live.

 

It was a total reality I was addicted to, a reality of escape and ironically it became a reality of cages. I was caged up in my mind and soul and that was a much colder place than the cages of stone and steel that ended up holding me so often when my stone cold arrogance and addictive needs forced me to compound the crime of my self abuse, by abusing the laws of society and basic morality.

Trying to escape the reality I felt sentenced to live in I created a cage of behavioral, chemical and illusory transcendence. Trying to feed the pains of need that threatened those illusions with realities stark return I created a cage of denial. In the rare, rare moments that I ever sought to discover why I did what I did, why I felt like I did I had to accept that there was not a magical answer because my trip was all mine, yes it was all in the same place with a bunch of folks doing the same thing but what led us all there was the thing to wonder about. My thing has always been mine. I was in the shadows of the physical and emotional negativity that lays in wait for any kind of addiction, what led me into the ambush was where the problem was. It was and is the same problem that everyone falls into when they find themselves in the grip of anything addictive.

 

Everything evolves!

 

As with the physical nature of life, emotion also evolves and in our rapidly mutating society the stimulating factors of emotion have also evolved. They have evolved into complex structures of content, action and reaction. The end results of all emotion are familiar but what takes a hold of the mind and leads it to specific conclusions in addiction are situations with factors as complex as any mathematical equation. Those factors are involved in the determination of reaction and the eventual actuality of the end result and all of the realities of yesterdays generations and their answers or lack thereof are insufficient to try and apply in determining what goes wrong today. We know what the end results will be; yet only a conceptual sense of understanding can ever be proclaimed because,

Everything evolves!

In my reality of addiction there was a rebellion of mind and soul, and most of all a glaring oh so evident understanding of my distinct difference from all around me in my so-called peer group. I knew I stood out that that fat old sore thumb so I decided to use my rebellion as a weapon against the emotions of embarrassment and humiliation I was supposed to be feeling. It didn't help that I was a genetic anomaly blessed (and often cursed) by a mind further evolved than those in my age group. I was always consciously aware of my difference and from an early age decided that fuck you was the way to go. What I wanted of course had never existed in the form I visualized, what I used to try and get it was behavior cold and vicious and drugs that were much more dangerous than any generation before had experienced, and in sub-cultural expressions that were much, much more diverse and dangerous than anything known before. My music was new, my style was new, my slang was new, my fears were new and my dreams were of a new kind of reality. I was in the same old places; they were just illuminated by a new shade of light.

 

Your old world and my new one had become so diverse, technical, advanced and impersonal. The blending of genetics and cultures had created sub-cultures that constantly evolved with greater and greater speed. Gone were generational fads that lasted until they rusted and rotted, now every few months and every new record had the potential to inspire cultural and behavioral change. The racial, religious, moral, and basic overall genetic fabric of society was evolving. Evolving into new realities with new standards of physical nature, emotional content and consent, and new moral expectations. The simplicity of desire, rigid codes of behavior, the clarity of right and wrong, environmental pureness, physiological wholesomeness and the time structures of adolescence, puberty, maturity, conscious awareness and death had all gained new definition in their evolutions.

Chemical and dietary intake, environmental toxicity had created changes in the world. Coupling that with new expressions of style, behavior and racial definitions meant that the changes in attitude and expression also brought with them new types of mental disorder, disease and new chemical side effects that constantly mutated to evolve into a complex misunderstood existence. The causes and effects of this evolution created the kinds of turmoil that easily led me, so many others (perhaps even you) into a world of internal anarchy and addiction.

I am no expert on evolutionary change as a scientific whole but by virtue of a razor sharp mind, experience and most importantly survival I am an expert on the causes and effects of my addictions evolution and when it comes to methamphetamine yours too! It almost destroyed me as a rational, distinct, and singular personality. It almost destroyed my body, my emotional content, my morality, my relationship with my family, my ability to dream, my ability to comprehend my behaviors effect, my capacity to feel, my desire to exist and my future. I am probably not too different than someone you might know, someone you are or someone you might just become.

Everything evolves.

 

It was an evolution of unfocused personal desires, ignorance, physical tolerances and of course misery. It was an attempt to escape the prison of a hated reality, a reality constructed by my own misconceptions, misinterpretations, confusion and a twisted sense of need and definitions of fulfillment. I evolved into my own world of addiction, an addiction of mind, body and soul and an addiction to a specific type of environmental setting, a different world in the middle of the same old reality, with a new set of faces always playing with the ever changing rules in the same old game of illusionary life.

Where the boundaries began I could never quite recognize. When it took control I could not say. Why it happened I really didn't care and where I was going didn't even matter.

It became a world of an addiction to consuming and desperate to escape. It was worse than anything I ever imagined, worse than could ever be admitted and it was the best thing I ever felt.

Taking a look back at it all I sometimes think I should feel hate, but who or what? Me? What I have become is still quite unfocused, what I still have yet to do is much more than I can visualize, whoever I am I just have to accept.

It was easy to make excuses just as it was easy to ignore the truth about my reality. It was oh so easy to fail and even easier to just say why not.

It is much harder to accept responsibility and reality, it will be hard to succeed but hey nothing is as hard and final as the death I was headed for.

It is a personal story, the same old story, the history, the reality, the future, its you and me.

Everything evolves.

 

It seemed like no matter what I did I could not escape a stark critical evolution of soul in a world seemingly without pity, my world in all its glorious immorality and desperation. It was a cage of my own careless creation, a hell of my own personal design. It was an addictive existence I hated because I could not get enough of it. Whenever I thought I had had enough of it I would create just enough of a reason to give it all one more chance.

 

Unwilling to try and identify with and exist among the mainstream mass of society defined as normal I used the crutch of my personal rebellion and paranoia to evade any responsibility for my failure to co-exist. I decided that it was all about survival and personal fulfillment of my twisted desires, a mentality that led me deeper and deeper into the ignorance of that addictions escape.

With false optimism I enthusiastically embraced a hopeless notion that there was a place of illumination and soulful release to be found hidden somewhere in the reality of my addiction. Illusorily I hypnotized my inner self with a promise of a great public dramatic moment that would expose the true nature of a suppressed level of life that would justify my social rebellion and reward me with something better. Really though the only thing I ever gained was forever nothing and every moment of that life was lived only to be forgotten as the thirst for more ripped away at my mind and soul.

The essence of my personal desires were predicated on the same things desired by the mainstream of society money, love, blah, blah, blah. They were things I kept well cloaked because they were so far apart from the mindless clichéd desires of those around me in my rebellion numbness, pain, misery and death. I had descended into a world where I tried to force a conscious ascent into a confused state of awareness. I wanted the same passion and contentment as anyone else, I was doomed trying to get it the absolute wrong way and every one around me had such an apparent and seething loathing of emotion except for the negative embraces of hate, despair, self destruction, self pity and the suicidal tendencies of a progressive death by a continually evolving and toxic addiction.

Everything evolves.

 

As I left behind the last vestiges of my innocence and youth gone without a trace was the simple right and wrong it will all pass so quickly flexibility of childhood experience and youth. No longer was life viewed as a carefree series of hazy days somewhat safely tasted in the defined structures of my adolescences semi controlled activities. No now the raw grainy emphatic urgency of the critical situations I encountered in my substainment requirements kept my adrenaline at full flow in the fear, seriousness and make or break, right here right now demands of a gutter level streetwise hand to mouth existence. Everything I wanted I had to steal, take, beg or con and the only thing I could take for granted was the stone cold fact that no one cared for me in the slightest in this self imposed exile from the reality of life beyond what I could do for them or who I could be for them at the lowest possible cost to them and their emotional and physical nature and at the greatest cost to mine.

My own emotional landscape was soon devastated torn apart by the relentless stattacco pounding of deceit both felt and sadly practiced. I could not with all of my presumed ability to rationally think discern any possible reason why I couldn't find what is was looking for from my snake eye level view of the society that gazed in passing down at me and my "peers" with barely disguised contempt and hostility as we wallowed so shamelessly in the mire of our pathetic immorality.

I was evolving into a singular personality that was none the less indistinguishable from those around me, all of us being the victims of a state of "Internal Anarchy" that chaotically seethed beneath the surfaces of haughtily exuded in charge mentalities, trying to fool each other with auras of self confidence that cloaked insecurity and farcical images of innocence that masked the impurity beneath.

Home was a figurative word and world as the literal reality of personal space was the streets, cheap motels, mass habituated squats, someone else's façade of home, dirt lots and of course back alleys all of them like sick soundstages visibly deteriorating with each passing moment and hit. Everywhere and anywhere they were all tainted with the distinct aromas of fear, confusion, lust, desperation, mildew, human waste, sweat and the always prevalent lingering odor of stale casual bought or sold sex that assaulted the senses with the base, degrading scents of one of natures spectrum of cologne.

Daylight was an always-dreaded illumination of what was seen as societies hectic reality. It slammed home the impact of pathetically filthy and habitually sordid cesspools of humanity. It was a time of frantic forced haste as the material substances to fuel a shadow world were sought. Nights were a blessed time of sensory relief and alleviation from the literal oppressive weight of the sun on tired and bloodshot eyes. It was then a world of darkness that denied society a good look at what life often hid. Hiding from the assault of societies sights and sounds at full daily throttle, the muted artificial glow of the streetlights provided eerie almost haunted backdrops that hid the ravages of time, drugs and sacrifice on the bodies and in the souls afflicted by addictive reality.

Every night was a figurative black tie affair as the weight of negativity hung around the neck always expectant of another victim's soulful death by slow strangulation. The only passionate sense of romance was directed towards our evident yet unexpressed love of a personal self-destruction. The tragic histories of tortured lives could then be read in the eyes that stared without focus, wide open exposing another drop in the vast sea of inner souls experiencing a gothic renaissance of primeval confusion and pain,

 

Here I am, there we were, how it was, was how it was supposed to be.

 

Everything evolves.

 

And so had I just like so many others following the addictive path of temporary escape. My body was riddled with the tracks from the not always razor sharp needles that autographed my arms with the signature of the demon of addiction as I delivered a steady stream of poison into a frantically beating heart. My soul was tarnished by a steady stream of inner frustrations tears as I followed a worn and corroded trail that scarred my soulful landscape like so many other lost and still losing losers, all flowing in a current of hopeless desperation to a slow and pre-mature suicide of addiction to mind altering, sensory numbing chemicals consumed in a toxically tainted addictive environment, chasing viscerally rooted delusionary dreams.

I constantly craved more and more of what affected me less and less in a quietly destitute vacuum of rational trying to escape every minute nuance of life that was chemically transformed into a crashing symphony of hectic irritation.

The thirst for a flash of illumination took me to great heights in my chemically stimulated meditation; a meditation that only inevitably exposed the delusion-racked wonderland of my own pseudo Alice likes imagination.

Fueled by the fires of subconsciously perverse desires, I was drifting high above the reality of self. The true intent of the unalterable purpose of addiction that numbed my mind and soul against the real or imagined pain of reality always showed me (and I ignored) what I was really destined for, to chase feelings that never returned after the rush of the hit, the moment, the experience.

I would chase them a thousand miles each trip without ever moving an inch. Entranced in a stupor by a taunt of perfection, perfectly aware by the non virtue of hard earned scarring experience that the only place I could really ever go was crazy, that all I could ever feel in each of those instants would never be enough.

The inevitable plunge of the comedown always exposed a hell of mind that beckoned and reached out with cold scaly fingers to pluck me out of the artificial reverie of my high, pulling me further each time into the turbulent waters of an insanities endless sea. A sea that did contain a technical nirvana of soul, not of joyful bliss but instead the blank unfeeling indifference of a mad nesses lobotomy of soul.

Languishing in my coma of reason that denied true existence, nothing could be done except to silently rail against my self inflicted disease of life. In an inane acceptance of that irrational logic I swore that it would only be a matter of time before my lofty gutter presumptions and the mind-altering sense of my addictions twisted perceptions would expose the way out of the unacknowledged but self created prison that held me hostage in the grip of visual and sensory denial. I perversely assumed that I alone was strong and special enough to survive this trial and come to attain that higher awareness, prying victory from the forlorn hope of my personal rebellions assault on the fortress that shielded true life. Little did I know that the only time and place awaiting me was an endless horizon of death where the discarded shells of failed lost addicts lay bleaching in the fiery glow of a hells white hot heat. In ignorance I forged ahead on a road to that brand of fate, losing all concept of time or reality in the swirling hypnotizing spell of the rush.

 

At the rushes explosion in each one of the infinite times I slammed the plunger home I always felt like a million bucks in a plug nickel world at the irretrievable cost of my youth, my sanity and the future of my life's potential yet to come. Rotting away on the inside my body shuddered with the not so numbed ravages of internal decay and the constant pounding of disappointment and deceit that ripped away at the layers of emotion.

Every action was a clichéd response of reflexive instinct from the physical nature of the bodies movements to the dry predictability of words and phrases all construed to further the quenching of the thirst of my addictive desire to have it all for me and to leave half of nothing for the world around me.

It was only at times when exhaustion and the end of the line cause my pockets were empty, all doors were closed and everybody could outrun me option of the last resorts disappointment forced me to drop like a rock into a nightmare racked coma would I stop trying to get more of the poison that was destroying my being with that false sense of hyper awareness and temporary pleasure that cloaked the addictions slow and steady march through my being.

It was more than just a physical need you know, a quick fix to bring fulfillment it was and addiction that was also mental, soulful and environmental. I had to have it right now, it had to be just right and it had to be somewhere adequately suited to revel in the celebration of my impending death disguised as life with my soul able to gasp in the noxious gas of the addictive realities mist. Every time I indulged I would think that what I was feeling right then was how it should and how hopefully it would be forever. Like a flash it would blissfully explode and in a flash it would disappear with greater speed than the time before until the frequency of my need was one long continual stab of pain in my body and soul that had to be fed at any cost. Like a twisted up rag puppet on a laughing set of strings I was dancing to a pitiless masters dirge of control.

It was a time of feeling all alone in the shadows of countless other victims, in the midst of another festering boil of humanity in the heart of a dingy little corner of a city, where in a sea of a million faces I could never find the eyes of a friend. I was drowning in an aether of negativity and disregard that flowed straight to my brains core in a never-ending torrent. Every look was the gaze of a potential enemy and every place I went felt like an already conquered territory. My every thought felt like it was a line in an open book exposed for the whole world to read and throw back in my face with the spittle of a venomous laugh of spite.

I automatically assumed that it was the survival of the treacherous fittest in a game everyone had to be playing and by rules I had to figure out as I went. A macabre sense of form dictated what I thought and what I did in that game of life I was dying to play. Of course the fact that my psychotic imaginings and ultra paranoid fears were the product of well documented and long declared side effects mattered not to my warped reasoning of mind.

Without anything to base comparison on in my history of experiences in that addictive reality, my assumption of a universal conspiracy of deceit towards me was pre-dominant so I justified my selfish intentions with that thought and did whatever I thought and felt was necessary to get the material substances needed to fuel my escape.

Blinded to reason I became enough of a creature of habitual action that I would just take to have and hold, to use and abuse throwing away any scraps that remained in the emotionally empty landscape that stained the parody of the world I lived in, a place of existence I mistakenly thought was all the life I would need and tragically assumed was all the life I would ever find. Lost in that kind of a conscious nightmare I dreamed a dream or a thousand of the emotional and chemical paradise I wanted so badly to be my eventual destination. I never realized (when I needed to) that the mirage like specter was just an illusion created by the fire in my soul, drifting in the billowing smoke from the emotional bridges I burned in my personal revolutions campaign against the occupying thought of logic and reasoning that always tried to tell me that it was all for nothing and that nothing would remain of my soul if I did not stop.

Damned by the treason of my own mind and soul all order of life that could have been was plundered in the Chaos of an Internal Anarchies supreme reign. Without anyone or anything I could turn to for help the personal messiah of my conscience lay effectively muted.

In the rare times I dreamed of actually trying to escape or change the inevitable one more time, one more hit before I quit would welcome me back into the disorder of my addiction. Looking into the mirror of inner reflection what I would see was a thing so consumed it made me presume that there was no recourse available that could arrest the downward spiral of my souls flow. Not being able to make the adjustment needed to return to the mainstream of rational societies reality there was no choice it seemed but to remain in the comfort of the irrationality of my addictions existence. I was never more alive than when I was dying a bunch of little deaths every day. Yes I was always alone figuratively, I had countless companions though, all of us victims of our own brand of the same disease of mind and soul, sharing the same symptoms, headed for the same inglorious finality, the only real difference lay in the opposing complications that led us individually to the same identical infection and guided the heart, mind and soul to different levels of addiction. We were all entranced by a false sense of amnesiac totality that could sometimes mask the traumas of our yesterdays, a frail almost transparent illusion of reality that transcended the harsh actuality of today with an expectant but ludicrous hope of that tomorrow transformed into something just a bit more pliable and forgiving.

In each and every beginning there is an end, but in addictive realities one that can never truly be forgotten it seemed until a blanket of madness, a soulless finality of a cruel and wasted death brought to a close another little overly dramatic and totally predictable vignette of counter existence that left no lasting impression of its tragedy as it passed into the cold computation of another impersonal set of statistics, an end that could never justify the means of such an extreme of life.

Everything evolves.

 

In my reflections I can now understand a lot of what went on and what goes on in the minds and souls of the lost and soon to be losing, I didn't always want to understand shit but my high but as I evolved I had no other choice. A conscious decision took me every where I went and when it was all tasted and done my desire to live, my need to accept my theoretical limitations and to understand what life was really all about, and my conscious acceptance of my addiction and my addictive lifestyle made it mandatory to define it and move the fuck right along.

Nothing was too immoral or criminal at one time, now nothing is more important than the confrontation and defeat of that addictive mindset. Now I am addicted to life. I realize I wasn't always as hard as the image I proffered but I was also more harder and treacherous than you would care to discover. All I can do is call like I saw it, like I felt it and like I gleefully inspired it. If you see yourself and want to hate me for exposing who you are, so sorry about your luck. Get over it and yourself, if I had to then really so do you. If you can't believe its me talking just remember.

 

Everything Evolves

 

 

 

 

 

Love at first light

Please forgive me for not sitting up and paying the standard form dictated wide eyed post coital attention to every sound, move and motion you make "right now" in this;

The premier presentation of the most current version of the story of your life.

By all means though you just keep on going as you attempt to hypnotize me with your kaleidoscope of

Verbal silhouettes

Flamboyant gesturing

And, animated expressions all the while surreptitiously seeking to spot any telltale flicker of actual interest from me here and there that you can key in on and use to enhance the details of this spur of the moment you being fleshed out on the walls of my orgasmic ally compromised mind and soul with the physical graffiti of your

Eyes and lips, shoulders and hips

Arms, legs, fingers and toes in the slowly dawning light of this first morning after.

 

I would rather just kick back instead, nod knowingly, caress appreciatively and resign myself to the inevitable pleasure and pain touched chaos to be, sighing quietly as I look through this desperately presented caricaturization of who you say you are, to the back lighted reflection of who you most definitely are not.

Right now your out and about in the streetlight costume is all crumpled up on the floor in the corner along with last night's not so well hidden frustration, insecurity and that over acted flaw filled portrayal of a part time party girl trying to hide a full time emotional wreck.

That painted on cover the little girl mask of nonchalant immorality and slightly deviant sexual potential has been hot washed away by the detoxifying sweat of our world class full contact gutter fuck fight and quite frankly;

You look even better to me in the slowly brightening light of this first morning after.

 

Now; I probably should stop you right now and tell you that I really don't care in the slightest bit who yesterday you worst case scenario might have been considered to be in either your own insecure heart and soul or any past insignificant others selfishly motivated and perceptually tainted opinions and ,

Truthfully I really, really don't need to hear any more of this sort a pre-planned beforehand little misrepresentation of who you would like to be right now and ,

Please, please pretty please I hope you will not dare attempt to tell me who with all the right stars aligned and g.p.s. assist you might just be able to be in this peculiar vacuum of rational and inhibition right here, right now in the space between a split second

In the bright light of this first morning after.

 

So; listen up girl,

You have already exceeded my " just to be on the safe side" lowered expectations so I would prefer it if you would let any further variations to your conception of whom you are stay shrouded in a little mystery

And, it would be best if you let any further wishfully thought pieces of you think you could very well be stay hidden in that tricky world of vague innuendo that exists down in between your actual personalities lines.

You see I am really looking forward to putting together my very own neurotically inspired and of course slightly flawed speculative version of a perfect you with

Wild guesses

Crazy suspicions

Desperate hopes

Optimistic "she's just got to be's"

Pessimistic "well if she's not that then hopefully she's this"

And, crossed finger magic lamp polishing by the light of a falling star wishing that in some forthcoming chapter of two lives blending right now that it will somehow all together add up to a much more substantive and real world you than the nasty little tweaker bitch I met last night when you stumbled into me from out of the shadows of the chemically saturated fantasy world where you had been hiding from me all along and all alone in the shell of a human catastrophe all camouflaged up as the life of the party.

Anyway it is all a moot point I guess because girl

I already know I am going to love you long time

And, I also know I am gonna hate your ass sometimes too.

So, I think I will shut up and just maybe sit up after all to pay a little freshly enraptured pre-coital attention to this you I see captivating me with the sheer poetry of your presence,

Inviting me to get lost in you today and to reach for another tomorrow;

In this now hi-def bright light of this first morning after.