what is this, i don't even....
people say that I "DO TOO MANY DRUGS", and consume too much of everything that i consume. Even Sin. Failed dreams, holding on the black shadows of night and not letting them run away like the dawn breaking on the horizon... to incur shadows walking towards me, is that all this life is for??? is it all that I can BE?? AM I doing all I can for myself, my life and dare I say t, my country.
Feh.
I don't know if I should care if I did enough for my country of my community. I think I did a lot, and I think I can take a break now. I cannot flip Burgers. Hips and back and paranoid schizo hallucinations and pain induced rage aren't really things you want in a fast food establishment. DON'T YOU DARE put me in retail. I CANNOT DO THAT ANYMORE. The last time I tried working in retail I just about wounded some people and did far too much damage to myself to mention. Treated self and others like garbage, let my morals slip down and fall apart. Became a fiend for every chemical capable of altering my mind, easing the pain in my body, or bringing a slice of sunshine onto this grey grey field.
When you've gone ... far, and you know you've ... gone far.... Sometimes the only thing left we can do is sit down and write about it. People been telling me that I write good. People say that I write hell of good and that I should have an agent and that I should be selling books and articles and making money and getting the hell outta this hole I'm stuck in. Hard to do. The hole walks with me. Like Daddy's little Grey cloud that followed him around. Hovering just overhead, raining on him at any moment, I presume. There are no venues around here (NOR Do I want there to be), for writers to be able to grab a mic and run off some spoken word stuff and kick out some "jams", of a different kind. The music scene and art scene and my will and desire and urge for revenge are totally not on the same page as each other.
Is it "fair", for me to feel like there are enough words in the world, and if I stopped typing, it will be the same??? NO, because these words coming out here are my blood and my spit and my sweat and my tears and my emotions, and all that other crap.
Shit.
You know...
after looking back at the last 5 years of stupid bullshit around here.... I have to ask... WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO GET OUTTA THIS??? Yes I fucked up. I admit it. Yes, some of the things I did are not, nor ever shall be excusable. Especailly when I was drunk, I hate being but also love being blitzed, i feel like a god and not a whiney broke basterd who can't do jack for themselves cuz he's such a pushover. I have no clue how I'm gonna get outta this hole. I have no clue how I'm gonna do it but I gotta get the hell outta Clearlake. It's ripping me up. and Tearing me down.
I just got told I pent all my money on booze, drugs, and games I don't even play. That's not true, I like MY TV TOPPERS, and I bought cigs.
I need a bunker, a handler, a driver, a cook, and lots OF SPACE between me and them.... Keep me away from them. SHIT. Feels like I dripped into a vial, and got mixed up with something very strange, and got stirred up and poured back out. Linear thought is gone. Totally gone.
Just reaction. This to me, is like death. Braindeath is DEATH.
too many head shots. too much brain injury. static disconnection. pulverized by media's perspectives and jumbled aspects forged by big money contracts and self destructive puppet mode induction, we watch the screen and read the ticker. To find out who's dead, and who's getting sicker. We try to raise fingers, and with them we point, but at what target, get me outta this joint.
just change the channel, it's all dial twisting. screaming at mile long walls, and no one is listening. When the blood is all dried up, it just blows away, and nothing ever changes, in Clearlake today. But isn't just this teeny tiny place, where money and power and greed run the race. It's not what you know, or how much you've learnt, it's how many beaten, and how many homes burnt. The whole planet suffered after 9/11. The game changed. The machine got up, walked in, and took over. Now we feel like everything SUCKS, and everything is shit, and I have no clue how long it'll be before we come out of it, nor if we'll come out of this thing at all. The edges of the hole are going out farther and farther and it frightens me. BOREDOM IS the Crack in the pavemnt that eats the being. Boredom will cause one to trip on that sidewalk and fall ... straight down. This place is FILLED with nothing. Bottomless like that GODDAMNED LAKE. Oh how I hate thee, Clearlake.
If you are a parent and you want to move to Lake County, and your kid's into books and reading and silly little shit like that, and they're like 13 or so. And they don't have shit for social skills, and IF THEY'RE NAIVE AND GULLIBLE, Do yourself a favor and shoot them in the face. Move to Lake County afterwords. Save the 20 years of hell for the kid and you, and shoot them in the fucking face and kill them, it's a lot less bullshit that way. Cuz if your kid is Gullible, and Naive, and likes books and is a pushover, everyone's life around that little shit is gonna be hell, and after you've had to go to the ER fter major beatings, you'll realize you should have killed them or left them behind. THIS Place don't take kindly to no BOOK LEARNERS. Oh, and if they are succeptable to negative influence and might possibly do drugs at some point in their youth, or start drinking, DEFENITELY KILL EM, before moving to lake county. Or you'll have a fucking frustrated Wastoid on your hands, in your home, etc... and it's gonna be fuckin HELL.
Feh.
I don't know if I should care if I did enough for my country of my community. I think I did a lot, and I think I can take a break now. I cannot flip Burgers. Hips and back and paranoid schizo hallucinations and pain induced rage aren't really things you want in a fast food establishment. DON'T YOU DARE put me in retail. I CANNOT DO THAT ANYMORE. The last time I tried working in retail I just about wounded some people and did far too much damage to myself to mention. Treated self and others like garbage, let my morals slip down and fall apart. Became a fiend for every chemical capable of altering my mind, easing the pain in my body, or bringing a slice of sunshine onto this grey grey field.
When you've gone ... far, and you know you've ... gone far.... Sometimes the only thing left we can do is sit down and write about it. People been telling me that I write good. People say that I write hell of good and that I should have an agent and that I should be selling books and articles and making money and getting the hell outta this hole I'm stuck in. Hard to do. The hole walks with me. Like Daddy's little Grey cloud that followed him around. Hovering just overhead, raining on him at any moment, I presume. There are no venues around here (NOR Do I want there to be), for writers to be able to grab a mic and run off some spoken word stuff and kick out some "jams", of a different kind. The music scene and art scene and my will and desire and urge for revenge are totally not on the same page as each other.
Is it "fair", for me to feel like there are enough words in the world, and if I stopped typing, it will be the same??? NO, because these words coming out here are my blood and my spit and my sweat and my tears and my emotions, and all that other crap.
Shit.
You know...
after looking back at the last 5 years of stupid bullshit around here.... I have to ask... WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO GET OUTTA THIS??? Yes I fucked up. I admit it. Yes, some of the things I did are not, nor ever shall be excusable. Especailly when I was drunk, I hate being but also love being blitzed, i feel like a god and not a whiney broke basterd who can't do jack for themselves cuz he's such a pushover. I have no clue how I'm gonna get outta this hole. I have no clue how I'm gonna do it but I gotta get the hell outta Clearlake. It's ripping me up. and Tearing me down.
I just got told I pent all my money on booze, drugs, and games I don't even play. That's not true, I like MY TV TOPPERS, and I bought cigs.
I need a bunker, a handler, a driver, a cook, and lots OF SPACE between me and them.... Keep me away from them. SHIT. Feels like I dripped into a vial, and got mixed up with something very strange, and got stirred up and poured back out. Linear thought is gone. Totally gone.
Just reaction. This to me, is like death. Braindeath is DEATH.
too many head shots. too much brain injury. static disconnection. pulverized by media's perspectives and jumbled aspects forged by big money contracts and self destructive puppet mode induction, we watch the screen and read the ticker. To find out who's dead, and who's getting sicker. We try to raise fingers, and with them we point, but at what target, get me outta this joint.
just change the channel, it's all dial twisting. screaming at mile long walls, and no one is listening. When the blood is all dried up, it just blows away, and nothing ever changes, in Clearlake today. But isn't just this teeny tiny place, where money and power and greed run the race. It's not what you know, or how much you've learnt, it's how many beaten, and how many homes burnt. The whole planet suffered after 9/11. The game changed. The machine got up, walked in, and took over. Now we feel like everything SUCKS, and everything is shit, and I have no clue how long it'll be before we come out of it, nor if we'll come out of this thing at all. The edges of the hole are going out farther and farther and it frightens me. BOREDOM IS the Crack in the pavemnt that eats the being. Boredom will cause one to trip on that sidewalk and fall ... straight down. This place is FILLED with nothing. Bottomless like that GODDAMNED LAKE. Oh how I hate thee, Clearlake.
If you are a parent and you want to move to Lake County, and your kid's into books and reading and silly little shit like that, and they're like 13 or so. And they don't have shit for social skills, and IF THEY'RE NAIVE AND GULLIBLE, Do yourself a favor and shoot them in the face. Move to Lake County afterwords. Save the 20 years of hell for the kid and you, and shoot them in the fucking face and kill them, it's a lot less bullshit that way. Cuz if your kid is Gullible, and Naive, and likes books and is a pushover, everyone's life around that little shit is gonna be hell, and after you've had to go to the ER fter major beatings, you'll realize you should have killed them or left them behind. THIS Place don't take kindly to no BOOK LEARNERS. Oh, and if they are succeptable to negative influence and might possibly do drugs at some point in their youth, or start drinking, DEFENITELY KILL EM, before moving to lake county. Or you'll have a fucking frustrated Wastoid on your hands, in your home, etc... and it's gonna be fuckin HELL.
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