so, we're all to accept our roles as students.. sometimes to pull through into roles as role models.. sometimes.. pulling farther through with mere confidence of ability. because sometimes that is all mankind needs. confidence in it's abilities.
Friday, February 18, 2011
Bowdlerassing
BOWDLERIZING A NATION
the "Ow" in Bowdlerizing
--------------
sedating a generation into silent, kinetic unrest, censoring the real, dosing with false, regular
ONE CAN BE LONELY IF ONE HAS NO ART.
So, when you feel alone, remember your art is your lover revel in beauty of life, and nurture the blossoming fertilizations of solitude.
look into yourself. there is so much life and company. all the richness is inside. look at it.. release it, look into it. bring it out. extend
Ooh
write about poverty of richness. that and also.. this does not satisfy my fun drive
live for moments of
pour waterfalls into your own glass, niagara sized, dream and remember being there, being young, being free, and live for now.. theres no life like a dull one. theres no anything as long as you play the game.. fuck the game, itll just intensify. get into your world. im done with the world. the world will come to me when i ask for it. let the market place flies immerse another while i swallow my anxiety and angst and have myself back to who knows me best.. me, and those who know me truely. catch them before they too drown in the waters they pour for everyone who knows not a true (spectacle )landmark when they see one
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Begging for a Taste- self loathing excerpt-
I just wish you were here when I woke up. I wish all these titular icons who are a very microcosm of your very selves could accompany me through all my day, where I feel crazy, like crying and neuro, pyschosexual. When I dig up the super machismo porno and pretend im getting manhandled. .
when my arms are too weak to type, to lift and all in all when my dilemmas pursue me and ride me like a professional racer, like my ass, eing grazed without relent, and keeping zooming full speed, spiralling through space like a comet into oblivion. When I sit here,
and my mind wanders and beckons, beg for a taste, just for taste of life, even if visual, if even comical
if even something representative of someone's (real) life... because i dont live. but I cherish
the past and all of it's heaviness that it pulls on my skin and the russian cabbage-ness and all the million
like minds lonely and thirsting for compatibility on this large vast and seperatist cold rock.. I've given in
to some things.. and they are not like giving in sexually.. not the least bit exciting or kinky..
Ive given comfort a nesting place.. a comfortable bode where it lays it's eggs and and merely keeps me at bay
for it's pregnancy mitgh one day be complete, its young will run over and demolish my nest of my ambition.
my eye beckons to release all that it is storing in its glands, for im a wreck, like many of you.. and im glad.. for im not alone.
i am on the same forums seeking the same oracle, ..the same me in a different or parrellel universe.
I reflect the world's insecurity.. as you do,, and im glad when i know there is you.. because then
i know there is me also
and you replenish me with your wits about life, and your fresh reflections in the same fucked up mirrors,
and i dearly hope that i will wake up tomorow, .. and i dearly cry out of mere agony for the deficit of life churning about me.. . around me, the past tense speaking, the non shocking myself, the realized standards they have already set for me.. because i think that is just it.. that ive settled for living for someone else.. as soon as my gemini lover rocketted into oblivion and his rotten twin was cast forth. my mind has chasmed, like my clay.. and my will has fallen onto an entertainers large satin lips.
my minid has keenly and anxiously installed jewels and embedded gold and precious stones into another's words.. and the world he has praised me from.. and perhaps my esteem is so low.. as i virtually dissaprove of those who love me and view monsters in my sleep,. behemoth and clod. those monsters are my self hatred,
which i think.. maybe just maybe is accompanied by pyscho sexuality.
my manners are too brandished and stagnancy will kill me and my dreams forever.. when i have come to and realized that
being stagnant never created the ancient mariner and his creator, and his, and onward, that every writer
and every incredible creature whose brought life to this midst of deaths has themselves been a carrier
of some heavy but impartial truth, some granter of otherwise other voice, of other life, extension
of real beautiful gifts to those who grieve for all the grievers in the world. all it must take is for me to wake up and to realize there are millions like us, like me, like you, we together must live and when empathy beckons its wise chin towards seperatism, then I can understand why I was made. When I tell myself over and over again.. a coward was not Shakespeare and time him did not wait,
we must awake from this sleepwalking and embrace fear and pursue life
ourselves. we deserve it, god damnit. havent I realzed that if i have come to no one (you) to seek help, im often just seeking YOUR warrent for MY living?? If your on, im good.. FUCK THAT
when my arms are too weak to type, to lift and all in all when my dilemmas pursue me and ride me like a professional racer, like my ass, eing grazed without relent, and keeping zooming full speed, spiralling through space like a comet into oblivion. When I sit here,
and my mind wanders and beckons, beg for a taste, just for taste of life, even if visual, if even comical
if even something representative of someone's (real) life... because i dont live. but I cherish
the past and all of it's heaviness that it pulls on my skin and the russian cabbage-ness and all the million
like minds lonely and thirsting for compatibility on this large vast and seperatist cold rock.. I've given in
to some things.. and they are not like giving in sexually.. not the least bit exciting or kinky..
Ive given comfort a nesting place.. a comfortable bode where it lays it's eggs and and merely keeps me at bay
for it's pregnancy mitgh one day be complete, its young will run over and demolish my nest of my ambition.
my eye beckons to release all that it is storing in its glands, for im a wreck, like many of you.. and im glad.. for im not alone.
i am on the same forums seeking the same oracle, ..the same me in a different or parrellel universe.
I reflect the world's insecurity.. as you do,, and im glad when i know there is you.. because then
i know there is me also
and you replenish me with your wits about life, and your fresh reflections in the same fucked up mirrors,
and i dearly hope that i will wake up tomorow, .. and i dearly cry out of mere agony for the deficit of life churning about me.. . around me, the past tense speaking, the non shocking myself, the realized standards they have already set for me.. because i think that is just it.. that ive settled for living for someone else.. as soon as my gemini lover rocketted into oblivion and his rotten twin was cast forth. my mind has chasmed, like my clay.. and my will has fallen onto an entertainers large satin lips.
my minid has keenly and anxiously installed jewels and embedded gold and precious stones into another's words.. and the world he has praised me from.. and perhaps my esteem is so low.. as i virtually dissaprove of those who love me and view monsters in my sleep,. behemoth and clod. those monsters are my self hatred,
which i think.. maybe just maybe is accompanied by pyscho sexuality.
my manners are too brandished and stagnancy will kill me and my dreams forever.. when i have come to and realized that
being stagnant never created the ancient mariner and his creator, and his, and onward, that every writer
and every incredible creature whose brought life to this midst of deaths has themselves been a carrier
of some heavy but impartial truth, some granter of otherwise other voice, of other life, extension
of real beautiful gifts to those who grieve for all the grievers in the world. all it must take is for me to wake up and to realize there are millions like us, like me, like you, we together must live and when empathy beckons its wise chin towards seperatism, then I can understand why I was made. When I tell myself over and over again.. a coward was not Shakespeare and time him did not wait,
we must awake from this sleepwalking and embrace fear and pursue life
ourselves. we deserve it, god damnit. havent I realzed that if i have come to no one (you) to seek help, im often just seeking YOUR warrent for MY living?? If your on, im good.. FUCK THAT
The Scrolls; Private literature collection
All of my writing; from the bleakest to the weakest. This is a collection of private and unreleased work-
Fictional Writing, Traditional, Journalistic Work, Physical Works-Paintings, Poetry, and more
Check out also- my other blog entitled- Immodestly Human.
(Unearthing Human Sexuality- for all it's worth)
Fictional Writing, Traditional, Journalistic Work, Physical Works-Paintings, Poetry, and more
Check out also- my other blog entitled- Immodestly Human.
(Unearthing Human Sexuality- for all it's worth)
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)