Brainlick

i want to get off creatively i don't like drowning myself i can't be badass like the people that did the stufff i am trying to cover trying to cover trying to cover trying to be like someone that im not that im not that im not that im not that im not is breaking me and breaking me and breaking and i'll break the world if i cant be ME 6 hours ago · Like · Bob Rossa Whatever song you sing Whatever road you walk down Its your feet touching the dirt Its your lungs breathing in the air just now Mother Teresa singing Soul Kitchen Heavenly choirs singing Smells Like Teen Spirit

bye hard drugs, bye hangin w/ ppl i don't know and shouldn't be near.  bye trying to die like E.A. Poe, Bye all the shit I lost in all the robberies due to my toxic stupidity, Bye to the chicks who wouldn't tolerate it, bye to the good friends i've lost.  bye to being in certain places i can't go anymore.  bye to chasing images belonging to other people or fictional characters, bye not being me.  bye pure hatred for myself, bye whatever. hello today.

when i was about 14, i lived in a desolate place that had no record stores or outlets for people into punk and non normal music very much, aside from taking long trips, and finding  a rare jem in a bargain bin somewhere, thrift shops or coming to Ukiah to pick up tunes. i liked heavy metal as much as the next person around, and we had no way to hear it thrown across the airwaves but to build a huge antenna. the antenna wasn't that huge...  it only consisted of a few units, some attached by wire line and spanned from the mobile home to the outer shed.  the shed not only selved as storage, but also a hideout and secret place that myself and my comrades could go and play video games on dying color and black and white televisions that were scavenged from dumpsters, trash piles, or by trading various currencies, ie: cigarettes, drugs, booze, games, tapes, and other stuff.  The one antenna that went from the shed's feed lines were split so that the stereo in the shed and...