two dream sequences...

in a dream: i am sitting on a big poofy chair by myself.
dividing lines of something powdery.
I'm surrounded by people watching. it's fairly loud.
i snort a line. a few people vanish.
poof. just outta thin air they're gone.
everyone else didn't seem to notice.
i snort another line. more gone.
at this point i wasn't thinking strait.
my brain felt like a carpet being dusted and flapped about.
i snort another line. the dust is kicking itself back in.
more people gone.
there's a few more lines left. a few more kids left.
at this point they're off standing by the corner talking about things.
i don't even know if they know I'm here at this point.
i don't even know if I'm really here at this point.
but i don't want to stop now.
i snort one more line. i can't even reason with myself.
more people gone. i think. it looks like there's a few left.
i could be seeing double and placing new faces on each one.
i can't think at this point. i feel too disoriented.
the others don't even notice me i think.
I'm tired. I'm crashing. this all lasted too quick.
shit.



in a dream: i was wandering around in a nuclear wasteland.
she was sitting on a hill where the grass glowed fluorescent green.
it all looked a bit crazy. on top of the hill she was staring out.
a puke green ocean of waste and rot drifted around like it was meant to be there.
she seemed nervous or scared of something. she started talking about things but the ocean muffled her out.
i think she was apologizing for how it all turned out. i didn't see why this mattered.
the world was just a waste pile anyways. things like this just didn't seem that important anymore.
she kept apologizing. it made me feel like shit. she didn't do anything wrong.
i told her i loved her and that i will be around if she needs me to be.
but other than that. i don't give a fuck at all. i give her a hug. she seems like shes in shock.
a world died so fast around us. we survived. and here she was apologizing for things that happened ages ago.
i sighed myself quiet. she gave me a faint smile. next panel please.

some broken mental notes come in at night like a flashing heatwave.
dropped bombs bursting overhead leaving imprints of myself where i stand.
burnt objects set in the ground. i spend hours piecing myself back together.
nothing missing just a jagged statue in lotus position waiting under a big tree.
im swallowing this hot air. destroying what i think is right in the proper parts.
in proper ways. a few memory downs a few left to go.

i do not live what i think would be a good life but i don't let myself get depressed about like i use too because i see no point in being sad about it anymore. life hasn't been great and anything of interest to me seems to not work out partially because of me, and with people usually, distance. all the bad things in life don't really spark much of a hit in me anymore.
i just don't really care. at all. i feel like I've mixed taoist philosophies with nihilism and other forms of ideas[some my own, others not] that i think most people wouldn't believe really mix together at all and roll with it. i feel like a sheet of paper where you write one thing and instead of continuing it you scribble some parts out, white out some others, try to write over it, continue and there you go and have yourself a over filled splotchy page of things that in the end didn't produce much. just a calmer me with no real idea of what i should think. keeps my mind on the move. everything is beginning to feel less and less real when i think about it. when i think about what everything is they feel more like apart of my imagination than something you'd understand. i don't know where I'm going with this anymore.
the other day when she called it was weird. i felt like something gripped my mind and dragged me back to a me i was a few years back. simple things and songs gave me that feeling summer would give you right before school got out. i felt, what i could say, would be raw emotion pumping thru every little portion of my veins. it wigged me out. when it got quiet again. it felt like what I'd imagine would be what sinking thru quicksand is like. slow to give you time to ponder yet soft and un harsh. till you hit the bottom and forget what it was like anymore. if i were to call this anything. I'd say it's an odd stance with peace. not enlightenment. things are inconsistent. I'm inconsistent. these things i write never flow well together. I'm bouncing back to what people would consider logical and smart and right to thinking every little crazy nook about life is my truth and every little crazy nook i dig in life is right. i dig my hands in both and wait it out to see if it'll get me somewhere else. like china or something.
it never does.

would you consider that sad?

i dont speak of whats mine because what actually might be mine might not actually be what's mine.
shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. half a lined and sketchy world is quiet.
when this is happens i fall apart like a stack of marbles that can't hold it's own liquor.
i'm rolling everywhere to everyplace to every city to every idea. no i wasn't really there.
but i was. i was. i was. i was. i see things ways you don't. i believe in things you damn well don't.
when everything becomes noisey again. i shoot back up to normal. solid. something seen. so you can see me.
just for a moment anyways. when you go quiet again. i go back to rolling.

a hermit not by choice but by how things worked out.
not meant to be close to everyone. or anyone. just living out
life thinking of life.
thinking how it tends to revolve in circles like a confused snake who cant find its head on its tail.
it was solitude. lonely. blissful. sad. it became and grew into so many things.
didn't hate it. didn't want it at 1st. but came to accept it.
life was something of a mystery that didn't need solving.
even when screaming out begging for answers.
the only reponse would be a whistling wind.
nature didn't care. it had all it needed. the goal was to become like this.
faint smiles can taint the area surrounding my mouth to the people sitting fairly close smiling back.
an exchange of words. not enlightenment. they cant see the flashes
coming from thoughts. "it's all mine. they'd never understand."
not selfish. pure perception. something you find on your own.
a hermit in a city life. a hermit in a rural thought.
alone. sad. blissful. growing. a child circling in age
like a snake unable to find its head on its tale.
not life. just me

observing/listening responce rant pt1

i'm not the center of life...i'm the center of my existence.people were just those sounds in my head with a rough idea to go with it. i wasn't right. by standards of the majority of counter culture and mainstream culture i am wrong. completely off[was even called bonkers once]. that's how it goes though. there is always the right and the wrong to someone. what if we didn't have any examples to show for either tho? who would give a fuck at that point? apparently everyone. from christians, atheists, anarchists, corporate mongers, cyclists, do gooders, and assholes everywhere alike. they don't know shit. i don't know shit. A 20 minute ramble someone gives about the meaning of life is just a 20 minute ramble when you look at it. solid proof without that 'r' is just a poof of air and something your brain tells you is logic. or what people say is logic. i don't know what i'd call it but it wouldnt be logic. this makes me a nihilist to some. if so what's so wrong with that? the inconsistancies? what doesn't have that these days? your god/science/idealogies are choppier than chunks of carved wood. life is life. maybe not. i could be wrong. for i all i know you could be right...but i don't give a fuck.

CH.79 TAO TE CHING
Failure is an opportunity.
If you blame someone else,
there is no end to the blame.

Therefore the Master
fulfills her own obligations
and corrects her own mistakes.
She does what she needs to do
and demands nothing of others.


i agree 100%

you know. simple as it all sounds. when it comes to things in a negative light. the phrase, "will it matter in 10 years?" sits heavy with me in a good way.
if something trivial and dumb comes up and angers you but you wont care about it in a week or for that matter 10 years why give a flying fuck?
if it does...then i guess you should try solving that shit then.

a friend and i were talking about the dramatic changes that have happened in our friends lives.
he asked me what i thought about it and i asked him.
in terms of why i all i really said was "we can deny it all we want. we all just grew older".
life has been a fuckin hammer for me and my friends and a lot of people i know. everyone's been beaten down and now just bitter and angry/worn out and sad/apathetic and truly nihilistic. anyone I've known for the last two/plus years is not the same person i know now. sure we go thru similar moments that might make that whole "nothing ever changes" phrase true. but in my opinion that doesn't mean shit in terms of personality and who they were.
its sad. i remember times when people were happier. it just seems like now everyone is just some fuckin stranger getting by on booze and drugs and/or smiling however whenever they can with other strangers to get on bye.
i love my friends that i still got. i love you. and i want you all to be at peace, ya know?
once again. fuck you 2007-2008.


anyways. my brother loved that "grew older" quote. i don't know why. thought I'd share these thoughts tho. since i try to be all honest and shit.

another silly kid who thinks they know the world

i saw a girl who carved the face of Buddha into her throat. it only killed her words and left her to speak
like something she wasn't. her words were sharp. they held an image of enlightenment. but there was something missing.
she was afraid of death. she couldn't move on. she was a carved bleeding girl writing her own scripture with her blood soaked fingers.
maybe she was right. maybe. i sat and listen. or tried to anyways. if she was right i didn't care.
i had my own carvings on my skin to worry about. and everything she spoke smelled like rotten shit anyways.
i walked away. she turned to stone. the carving moved on. she never did.