Monday, October 31, 2005

Caffeinated September Nights Chi-Town Frappe-Delights

they're out there. here. all around me.
fellow students and truth seekers burning with a
desire to realize their dreams,
to shape the imaginations of those who pause and ponder
the inspired
painters, poets and photographers
musicians, singer-songwriters,
cool hip kitty kats setting trends through self expression
thriving amongst their own kind

the air is super saturated, dense with creative energy
what are their stories?
what drives them?
do they believe?
in what?
in whom?
why are we all here....sipping
lattes and exotic teas, smoking cigarettes
late into a mid September chi-town night
awake and aware

a subtle glow emmanating from macintosh apple’s light
illuminating, revealing the intensity of inquisitive eyes
pensive artists pondering myriad theories
thoughts and directions
origins of logic and reason
parents long lost as a means of protection
from the cruel, cold world,
humanity at it’s finest hour
overheard stories of deceit, redemption and corruption
of conquerors and superpowers
discussions of political subjugation
underlie the din and smoke
an imperceptible ebb and flow

as fragments form from pieces of mind
a sanctuary for sociable displays of humankind
worries of war, and terror subside yet never cease
radicals too blind to embrace democracy and peace

and I sip my three dollar latte whilst pondering
solemn demonstrations of independence

a vision of secular life
united in a democratic state.

Thursday, October 27, 2005

all you do is talk about yourself, for yourself, as people across the globe are crying and dying.

Flourescent light agitates an otherwise agile mind as I sit here, hung over from a night of too much drinking, a Tuesday, mind you, I’m not focused, unsure, and repeating the exact same mistakes over and over and over again. I want growth but I want many things. I want peace and yet I’m not willing to fight for it. I want sanity but then sanity is quite boring, monotonous, the mainland.

I am nothing more than a manifestation of thoughts and worries, fears, ideals and emotions…..I have a soul………I pout and whine and complain that this that and the other can't be mine…that I can't be around from now until the end of time..to see and observe..why is now the ideal time for the progression of time when from time to time all I want to do is pass from here to there, running and searching, forging through life without much of a plan, home to end up who knows where.

I’ve been hiccupping all day long, I’m tired and wired, I crave requited love, I, I, I, me, me, me…on and on and on, again and again until one is completely tired of hearing about it, except me.And yet it’s obviously silly to feel this way. “You have SO MUCH going for you,” I’m told time and time again. Maybe I use excuses to avoid this realization, to fulfill a primary need, a lack of responsibility, of manning up and growing up. Talk is cheap and easy. Talk fills the airwaves of my hazy mentality misdirecting me along a haphazard path of half truths. I’m talking but I’m not doing.Where do I go when no one knows where the wind truly blows….follow the flight of sparrows? Cut swiftly through the riff-raff, revealing the straight and narrows? Or swallow a little white pill to soften a harsh reality of madness and sadness, calm and aware, alone and alive, devoid of an everpresent burning sexual drive.

I’m lost.

Thursday, October 20, 2005

Lies, deceit, and Cecil Brockton.

What does one type when they cant seem to get into character? Is their a certain direction that I should be following when I hardly remember my name but am too wired to actually fall asleep. It's Sunday night and it's late. Only 23 minutes separate now from a mere seven hours of sleep. Not that this will be restful, post coital bliss nirvana sleep, nor will I doze off to a never never land, mind flooded with endorphins and good good good, good vibrations. I will not awake refreshed, ready to tackle the day the Tony Robinson way, greeting random strangers with a nod and a smile, "hey haven't seen you round this parts in awhile." Most likely I will fall asleep at the wheel approximately two times. My right eye will stay open as I allow my left eye to nearly collapse thus gaining a few extra minutes rest before I switch eyes. Soon enough traffic will be so jam packed that both eyes will close, for an instant, an instant where I could swerve into and jump the curb, release the passengers side airbag, destroy the oil pan, shred both right side tires, and completely demolish two rims. Nothing like the smell of gunpowder in the morning to make one reevaluate their lives.

And that's the fcuking rub. Straight and too the point. Change, reevaluate your life. As the great Russian auteur, Tolstoy says, "everyone thinks of changing the world, but no-one thinks of changing themselves." Of course I can't believe that applies completely in our society today. Facing myself, my narcissistic, blind to everything and everyone in front of and around, perpetually daydreaming about changing the world-self, is a task long placed on the rear burner, the one with the least amount of gas to catalyze a progression onwards and upwards. It's much easier to be lazy, to blame life on a problem that one carries out surreptitiously rather than face the undeniably overwhelming emotion associated with confrontation, with growth, with ultimately being uncomfortable.

I've been lied to at least once nearly every day of my young life. It's the truth. Society hides behind lies and half truths to "make things easier socially." Lies have brought tragedy to people of all races and color. Lies have cut through the hearts of once happy soulmates driving them to points of irrational insanity. Lies cost lives. Lies are what I hide behind for fear of discovering the truth, for fear of accepting the arduous responsibility associated with achieving greatness in life.

In high-school I excelled in many subjects. I enjoyed to learn on a level that some might call dorky or nerdy, two terms that generally come back to haunt the "haters" who end up stuck with their high school sweethearts, preparing for their children to relive the glory days of hail mary touchdowns, or clutch shots to win state championships. I was extremely anxious about everything, every fucking situation I found myself in caused me anxiety so intense, I might have thrown up had I not subconsciously realized how much more anxiety that would cause in the long run. Just the mere thought of rumors spreading like wildfire, destroying what little reputation I had created for myself. I was physically healthy, I was mentally fucked. Fear drove me to pursue Engineering. Fear of facing my step father. Fear of rejection. Fear of not excelling in the academic setting. Fear has caused me to veer off course so many times in my life, I find it difficult to move on without dwelling on my mistakes and ultimate regret.

It drives me insane to thing how efficiently I've destroyed my memory over the past 5 years of partying. Exstacy and pot, two vessels which guided me towards a state false enlightenment. I'm high as I write this nonsense. Stoned out of my gourd, alone and continuing to make the same mistakes over and over.
But if I go back to school I'll be putting myself at serious risk, what if I hate the idea when I'm in the thick of it?

Well it could hardly be any worse than five years of Engineering, a period of time that surfaces periodically throughout my nightmares.

There's so much money at stake.

In your case, money can't buy happiness. Self-fulfillment, realizing and working at your passions will.

The artist is nothing without the gift, but the gift is nothing without work.

But.....I don't have enough time, I'm swamped at work.

So instead you do ???? You drink, lay around and watch television, don't work out enough, pout, moan, continuously blow off answering your phone.

Part of me believes that this is part of God's plan for me, but the other part fears that God doesn't exist, that my stepfather is right.

Well that there, in and of itself should be a mirror enough to see where the root of my problems lay. You want to grow, but it's beyond impossible in your current situation. Too many distractions cause a lack of efficiency in your ability to not only learn, but retain and contemplate that which you study.

I'm beginning to get tired.

I've just had a conversation with myself.

This will most likely never get printed, but was damn good practice considering the circumstances.


Wednesday, October 12, 2005

i don't know where to take this, maybe it will evolve as vietnam repeats itself?

Still. Still calm and raging with desire. Still trying to shred long lost layers, tossing nightmares and fears into the proverbial fire. Escaping for once, not by running away, rather facing the demons within, a product of some supposed original sin. This dominion, this world, this excuse for a chance at redemption

Redeem me from a persistent state of madness and self inflicted aggression, misdirected emotions and devotions to false prophets, controlled by a country of money hungry right white men forever cutting the bottom line, sick and driven by a primal hunger for profits.

"Oil, there's oil amongst the soils of the Middle East. Round up the troops it's time to bring peace,"

Countries long at war with humanity, delusional, lost, on the brink of absolute insanity. Women abused and used as pieces of their property, not loved and cherished, revered as the ought to be. Poor Johnny and Jenny lost their lives, fighting for false ideals, patriot acts, a country brought to its knees. As impoverished Americans continue to deliver calls and pleas: disease, fever, aids, desperation on which mass media continues to feed, eluded, deceived,

"We're on a hunt for oil, I mean terror, Iraq's WMD's"

My freedoms to moan permitted through the sacrifice of others, my relatives: sisters, brothers of other mothers…….and every night on NBC, I see their tears, hear their fears, questions, "Mr. President, how many more years," until they can have their children back, safe in their arms, on familiar soil, not fighting a lost war in the hellhole that has become IRAQ. Clerics and sheiks, a vision of Allah perverted by Taliban freaks, terrorists inflicting hopelessness in a world from which we fell out of grace, a chance at utopia forever erased

Bring it on I say…Deliver threats and slow the pace of our lives. Be jealous, hate us, round up the insurgents for a chance at jihad, believe in your sick, fucked up, vengeful and hatefilled god, there awaits not 21 one virgins in your lands of honey and wine, your spineless fucks, the truth shall be revealed in time…we're a people of peace, a people who have begun to believe in peace in the middle east, Mecca, Jerusalem, supposed homes of the divine.

Luckily the gods are calling, "sow your seeds, harvest hope no matter how sparse the rains falling"

prepare to bask in infinite glory for one day will reveal the second chapter of this epic story.

Monday, October 10, 2005

stoned, hungover, tired, wired and wasting a beautiful mind.

One simply complex obstacle blocks me from the man I used to be.
Everything I never wanted to be denied through a continual refusal to follow through
To chase beliefs
I see the path and I’m fcuking scared
Fearing fear itself.

And it really isn’t there. Non-existent.
I’m completely stuck in my own head all the time
I work and am too addicted to work more
focused on growing and living happily

I write for solace yet look to others to reaffirm the validity of myriad ideas
Ends to make amends.
Too many for any man to chase
And yet I’m so completely confused on how to bring order to chaos.

I am in love with beauty
Depressed and upset about enduring
A derailing conversion disorder
An experience that I see as ripe with wisdom of the human condition
Life on Earth.

Thursday, October 06, 2005

a ? for those who read my nonsensical rambling.

When asked:

so what is it that draws people toward something they can't perceive? like religion, your soul, ideologies, philosophy, god.... you get the picture. just your personal thought on the subject. :)

I responded.


perpetual fear

a wish
a dream
a near death experience
a divine intervention - saul blinded, reborn as Paul
a revelationa good book (east of eden)
a mentor

....these are all ways in which I believe one uncovers an innate thirst for completing the trinity of mind, body and spirit.

How would you respond?

Wednesday, October 05, 2005

repeat, I repeat, repeat

I wrote this little bit of nothing sometime earlier this summer as an expression of my mentality at the ripe young age of 25, alive and subdued by happy pills, meds which act as a kind of windex, cleaning the residue, clearing the haze of the days of an explosive adolescence. It’s Monday again. I’d love to write about how Mondays choke on a fat d, but I did that last week. I could complain about the administration, but that would be too easy. Rising energy costs are a hot issue, but political blogs are saturated with commentary on echoes of the Carter administration. If I were feeling daring, I could reveal the true reason why I’m so tired this morning is the result of too much wine and pillow talk last night, causing me to fall asleep at the wheel twice this morning, a silver jetta honking at me as the light had been green for at least 10 seconds, nearly in a fit of rage for having their morning postponed by some 25 year old punk. If this were interactive, I could poll my audience, ask how their weekends were, what hot topics are on their minds, which comforting words they would like to hear. If I were a bird I would fly away. If I were a millionaire, I definitely wouldn’t be at this cubicle today.

holding out for a million to fall out of the sky or retirement, whichever comes first.

cheers...to the dreaded fcuking mondayz.....god bless em.

(I’m really out of it people, but whaddya gonna do?)

Peace, love, and cupcakes.


this is not art
nor is it a start
or a glimpse into anything of consequence
shallow thoughts from a lost soul
cascading from a mind
completely out of sync with sequence
frequently reading
words misleading
to an abrupt conclusion
that life is merely an optical illusion
distracted by fiery passions of a fleeting youth
perpetually chasing ends to make amends
stumbling towards the inevitable
inevitably destined to discover truth.

Monday, October 03, 2005

absotutely, posilutely not a role model

I inhale….my vision is enhanced, mind’s eye lost in a moment of drug induced bliss….I cough, my lungs choke on fumes….a bird flies above the crests of stainless steel monuments, statements of an industrial revolution….i’m high, three floors up, off the ground, peering into a reflection of America’s superiority, to a sky of oranges and blues, stark white concrete facades and phallic spires…..wavelengths, micro in size, representing all colors of the spectrum pass through me, around me, inaudible voices, credit checks and choices, secrets, secrets, are no fun, coded secrets locked in everyone…I’m high, atop a parapet, gazing down to the street below, life progresses at a standard disparate rate of ever increasing entropy, silence resonating…lost and contemplating, what direction am I progressing?

I met a man whose been lost for many years yet continued, stubbornly to hold onto a visceral vision, harvesting a single grain of hope out of a fat fucking field of despair, forty some acres of reasons why living sucks, why it’s easier to wallow than face hardship head on, avoiding pitfalls and quicksand.

"Maybe this is all bullshit, maybe this bullshit is just a fun way to pass time…maybe I’m lying to myself," he'd say, concealing proof, that fact and fiction merge into reality, our definition of some surreal truth, some meaning to why life is chock full of strife and wrongdoing.

"I need a break to brake, relax and unwind,rediscovering the arduous path on which my stars were once aligned, destined to pursue a life synchronized to resonance, melody, rhythm and rhyme. What I’m doing is wrong, and I’ve been doing it for so long, so much time wasted, so many laughs and lusts left unshared, scared and unaware of the impact on a fragile mentality."

"Who aren't I?" I exhale and ponder, misperceptions defined by an evanescent reality.