Tuesday, March 29, 2011


Well oh looky here. The flaccid crumpet of a bastard. A shell of a man. A half-hasardous attempt at finding loyalty in the saltiest of places. Well fuck off. No one wants your cornbread.

Sunday, March 27, 2011


I've been fucking depressed for a while. The group I associate with now free bases illz. Does this make them complacent? Fun? Hip? Cool, and fulla swag? I don't think so. It reaks of burnt marshmellows everytime I'm around them. I'd rather find the foul lord in a tab o' cid then in silly pharms. Fuck herb. Fuck booze. Do real antidotes. Find the solace. Hunt that grey, lanky bastard. Then; leave. Make the move bitch.

Motion sickness.

Sunday, March 20, 2011


Long paraphrases tend to leave one questioning the intent and meanings of...well....black goblins.

Hookers blood.


Friday, March 18, 2011


Malnutrition is an unpleasant and easily prevented illness that sprouts itself in the greed and corruption of pig fuckers around the globe. Why would anyone even wish to save the lonely spirit of a bum when they can simply buy a new vehicle for their pig children and goodly wife? Welp. Those of us with actual integrity know the answer to such a question. Sadly not everyone has the moral decency of such a sound sense of righteousness.


Wednesday, March 16, 2011


The dividends we can assert from peace will allow humanity to live in an unknown period of pleasantry. But for this to succeed we first need the players and states to be at least cordial. Good luck without laxitives.


Friday, March 11, 2011

Tuesday, March 8, 2011


The flimsiness which plagues our rational thoughts is something we as individuals should work on. If you attempt to be a pillar of support in your social life how can you even come close to being considered serious when you teeter like a leaf in the wind in the face of any argument. I don't give a damn what position you take on an issue but if you cannot be steadfast in your objections get the hell out of here. Just don't regurgitate the same nonsense you halfway believe in. I'll fucking shove a garden hose up your ass and pump enough toxic fuels up your rectum to shoot you to the moon. I'm serious mate. Interest you in a cookie?


Saturday, March 5, 2011


You fucking whore. You scum. You conniving piece of dog piss. You provoke the misanthropy in this world. Your the sole reason for the school shootings. You carry a pin around to poke holes in condoms you find in pharmacies and you stick razor blades in candy during Halloween. You concocted abortion and spewed religion. You are the cause of grievance and the rage I feel day in and day out is all in accordance to your abrasive tendencies to concoct justice out of lies and mortal deprevity. You are I, and I you.


Wednesday, March 2, 2011


To feel downtrodden and destitute is a common conception that one's peers and family aren't furfilling their job to that person in establishing a loving and fun filled atmosphere for that individual. That is a selfish notion though. We can't all attribute our angst and sadness to the outside situations which we have zero control over. In fact if we dwell on the fact that misanthropy is so prevalent is one thing but to take this standard to your every day actions is entirely another. It's a coup on your own identity. Please don't give in.



An exercise in conscious bewilderment:
Now am I saying a businessman can't be greedy is the aspect that the thrill of the business and the creation and expansion of an idea that your basically helped create or where the creator of and by this store/business what have you, that through this creation alone you have not only benefited society but you have felt and the highs and pleasures of doing something worthy of substance. Of course you want to be respected by those you in turn respect for numerous reasons or another, but the fact of the matter is that I truely think the families and actors and directors whom have essentially ingrained themselves usually not on purpose, in the culture of our society. 9 times of out 10 it was to create a piece of thought or idea to one prove to yourself that you as an individual like many individuals whom until this moment of realization in your endevors and your talents, thought these people in there creation of narration and ability to physically morph an idea may it even be a connotatted picture, into something not only palpable to a person whom you've never even come into contact with but you're creating by far the most beautiful gift of all. Inspiration. The people whom can do these ridiculous physical feats which usually they have practiced and had this level of attentiveness to an interest and love in their life which I really wish I had. I can babble what's wrong and the easier life would be if everyone just sat around and viewed each other's ideas but to a lot of people whom are much more influential/intelligent/cooler/selfless this regurgitation of the flaws is what's wrong. Most people can pinpoint the overall problems and the roots of those issues in this world. What people do have though which repulses me in a person's sensibility is this idea that their experience/genius/belief/action is not only the obvious way of doing it but the people who suggest otherwise are terrorists or extremists or what have you. Everyone is their ideals or their way about living is extreme and completely unfathomable in the eyes of another, but when you can sit there and listen and even ask questions and see the points and where these extremists see as the justification in the abrasiveness in their words/actions. Of course this isn't always right either but if you for a second group all muslims, all people from the middle east together in ideologies and beliefs then you are no more ignorant and probably even more so in the sheer fact that you KNOW BETTER you just don't care, you just are selfish and for some truely perverted reason you can see the silliness in being racist, assuming things about people based on religious affilitions, but those same people whom tend to be one the extreme christ side of things, will call for a persacution and punishment for mexicans and for muslim immigrants coming over here from the middle east. These people are the ones who decide and don't really even have a good idea of the lifestyle and the way that they think, simply because they were probably raised with the belief that your personal beliefs are sidenotes to the synopsis that everyone must abide by and that even by simply being around people whom don't hold the thiest/christian dogma which is induced by fear and nothing else. I have zero problem and even sometimes think myself that their is a higher power responsible for all of this and that some point in time he did make contact with humanity/beings on our planet or on other area's of space. At the same time the whole justification of violent and downright horrid crimes and beliefs that extremists whom are so diluted by the brainwashing and lack of free thinking that they've done on their own that they miss by far the largest truth of the bible/religions/philosophers and people who have the ability to think even to a limited extent for themselves, that love and kindness trump all. I would rather hang out and discuss the meanings and reasons behind, what to me is insanity and is strictly for sexual/personal gain a person who commits acts of rape/robbing/what have you when his action is in some way maybe not always immediatly, effecting the life of another individual in a forced manner. This person would probably say that the only way you can teach people who hold their reasoning in cult like religious worship is by the same level of craziness. The realigious folk just are frightened and I don't know if it's the fact that they are just scared by the prospect of death within itself or the fact that if their isn't a afterlife what's the point in going out of your way,essentially hurting yourself, to better the lives of others. That emotion is unattainable and if the sheer act of doing good for the pleasantries of peace and harmony, then justify and make sense of the lessons and ways we can bring about permanent change through violent crimes. Never is a violent crime down to benefit the ends justifying the means, it instead is always to smite, upset, hurt people in groups or in ideological views that are the most susectable in giving in to the extremists or would sacrifice their own way of life to ensure innocent and unsuspecting individuals aren't made targets strictly to get a raise or prove a point. This idea is impossible for America to figure out though in the sense that we should just allow the basically sadistical leaders who control the middle east to retake control of the lands which we know occupy because far more citizens and families are getting killed,split up and basically blinded by the extreme viewpoints which to them and it really does, are the only ways of getting a message across to a nation a thousand miles away and built on a different culture/standard of citizens entirely. Sadly the people whom attempt to bring about change realize that the only longterm not to meantion secure and careful way to do this would be to substract themselves from having to decide between just the two sides. If you choose the imposing power you are essentially saying to your family, friends, culture, way of life that yes America is fucked but I'd rather throw my chips in the ring to a foreign lifestyle because currently this one seems quite fucked. This level of thinking isn't supported by our troops nor by the terrorist groups who are fighting the insurgency their. Both want the citizens to act as essentially spy's for both groups and when they refuse they both get categorized unfairly. This level of thinking certainly is sad but it can also bloom an understanding and desire to fix and morph the once beautiful religious and culture that at one point made a lot of the volatile points in the middle east a lot more safe and simplier. America is certainly to blame though for the invasion and empowerment and manipulation which we basically did with the middle east governments to hurt the overall quality of living for their people, and when the community based (essentially that's what the Taliban and Al-Quada is although the Taliban is certainly more concerned about gaining back the culture and lifestyle, which they led Iraq in prior to 2001 in the same way that they had been running in for decades. Only now when we have a reason to justify war (9/11 which a good majority of our citizens view as being purpotrated by the leaders of the groups whom we are fighting now which is so far from the case it's daunghting, to the fact that our government actually may have been responsible for the level of destruction/death which occurred on 9/11. I am not certain in either belief but their is a lot of information our government is certainly covering up that occured on 9/11 that makes very little sense. In fact the idea that we would commit an attack against our own people and then blame it on a foreign enemy no one really has any proof is desire of disclaiming, it's the perfect and most deviant hustle any government or leaders in general have committed to perpetuate and make valid and otherwise and still pretty blatant lie. The only thing that is certain as far as life and the thoughts and morals which fuse the love and imagination which fuel the wonders of our world, and the fact that greed and legacy, in a person whose weakness but level of thought and meaning of validity in the actions which are most powered by our ideals and morals. People who have gained a blanket of narcissism which is fueled by many things, primarily stupidity. Very rarely will you find a person who is not only considered a genius but highly regarded for their contributions in the discovery or new ideas developed, whom is entirely egotistical and steadfast in the belief that they are essentially more wise and intelligent so no matter what argument can be made or suggested in that matter against the new and usually unusual take on a past idea, they denounce it and contribute the comment to attempt at diluting this newfound and fairly puzzling view which they themselves have concocted. Most true genius's and persons who are essentially only being in the entire world to contain the level of creativity, ingenious and imagination very rarely aren't open to ideas. Certainly not when they have the draft/overview of the project. In fact most people who really enjoy the creative process, the narration of ghosts and voices which could have belonged to someone at sometime but currently you are their creator, their parent and their conscious. Most most creations which are truelly beautiful and really form a niche in the idea that not exactly every idea or every story has been told that in fact that is impossible because the journalist/writer/especially novelist or screenwrite is simply the muse and physical robot that the ideas,worlds,people bubble to the service and by the time you actually have a setting/plot/character list the possibilities are endless and really the author cannot have any chance at morphing the characters as he wants them to be, they just are. Certainly they are taken and born from people,experiences,emotions that are sampled from the authors mind and then let loose to do and act and screech however they see fit. I don't think I could ever write a sequal, or a series of novels. Simply because of the level of raw emotion which I think that if my characters are smart enough or verbose enough they could fit their noir in however they see fit but once that stories told one can't just pull at the possibilities that could or should have taken place. Life isn't like that, and so why should the art of purpetuating life and creating a story for the aesthetic purpose of entertainment but also for the depth and anger that is alot easier to justify and wipe off when your character is saying it or committing acts of vengeance that are terrible but you know what? More things are terrible then pleasant. Without a terrible incident their would be no climax, and their would be no hero. Something horrendous is what changes and brings a person to action. That could be the simple mundane dragness that until now has seemed to be just a learning curve for your life but then it begins to settle in that no one will ever hear or respect your opinions or your accolades. In fact the only way to ensure your mark which some people whom are fairly boring but have a different view of things certainly then I see as completely ok in fact it's preferred. The people whom can live a seperate world entirely in their head and concoct fascinating stories which they can neither nor really have any desire to make public or published. The beauty of dreams is that they are truely unique experiences and by setting up this plot which literally keeps the person inside their heads for days, once it's outside and on paper in this linear fashion it seems unfair. Unfair that now you sold the only true form of expression and if you had any integrity at all for the art and beauty one gains from storytelling then you wouldn't ruin it by making it end and making it have this concrete and weird narrative that sure can mean this than and the other but people whom are nuns are more conscious of the depth and fascination with life and the mannerisms which subsequently arrange themselves in ways which becomes our conscious. The idea that you can create this non-sequitor and then call it this and that and whatever is nice in the fact that most truely fascinating artists, certainly not novelists usually and sometimes directors,screenwriters, is the interpretations that the audience gets to partake in. That level of creativity that sure you as the creator have the rights to but the thoughts and ideas and interpretations and suqsequent other plots and themes that a person with an imagination literally runs wild at any story which is interesting or pertains to them in some way. They may go on and take what little they learnt from your bland,boring,one dimensional story and from this anger or whatever emotion they gained and what really set into drive the fuck it I just want to attempt my dream in life, and if I fail well I'll just mold back into the fabric of society, sit alone and be a prophet of rage whom people less knowledgable or silly interpret as anger for not gaining or for finding out that what you thought was special, what was unique for you in the sense that sure people could write and create and speak in more fascinating ways which led to more fascinating sequences but not in the manner and way that you did it. Narration is a fucking gorgeous thing, and very rarely does it go away. Show me a passage from a King novel and even't if I haven't even heard of the novel two things would be certain: the writing would be clear and concise, and the voice and tone of the writing would have some mannerism/speech pattern that anyone who really enjoys/has read King would pick up immediatly. What frightens me at least, in the aspect of being able once I reach adulthood and hopefully gain a job as a journalist or whatever, when I try to create my own story, do my own novel, will I try to hard? Will it not make sense? Will the audience and anyone with half a brain grow weary of the similar vocabulary that almost by a rhythm you can forsee? The most frightening thing of all is that I will write this story, give it to someone, and they will see it as just another shit novels that some twenty year old stoner who never had ever tried or strided that hard, at least any harder then they felt necessary to attain the grades/girls/friends laughs and you know what? Why should I try? The beauty to me, is that as I ramble and go on and on, this affirmation of my at least narrative conscious that I have crafted for years now simply on the essence that I fully enjoy talking to people and having what some would find boring or annoying or whatever discussions based on actual things. The fluff and filler that cloggs the gutters of the media and conversations we strike up between peers and strangers simply to allow that person the belief that yes, you really are somewhat interested in the classes you are taking for that truelly pertains to the person you are/where/will become. The whole attachment to success that we tangle with intelligence is stupid. People are stupid. People are smart. People are open minded. People are bigots. Fuck em'.



A story I wrote. Kinda shitty. Chalk full of grammar and spelling errors. I could care less. But then I'd care too damn much.

The gug sat smugly along bate, schmeeling the feasure's of the harsh Alabama sun. From the beadow the moy watched the cinset at it brawled aimlessly along the wooden rails outlining the boy's familie's property. This pivotal image of sincereness and purity would later penetrate the mind of the youth later in his years of adolescence and later became a cornerstone of his childhood memories. From the tender and charismatic mindset which plagued the little insects mind, the boy had found peace and qualming the worries which seemed to fill the void left by imagination in his adult years. The image of the bug etching its way across the blanks streamed across the now man's psyche as he peered across his elegant yet somehow ruffling living room which had housed the insecurities and awkwardness which had tainted and interiorly mutilated the prisons of flesh which labeled themselves as his family. The desecrated room was tied together in a velvet themed pattern which his wife had forced down the throats of his sons and him during the past Christmas, because the cheer and renaissance must last all year she had said. The beaming smile she had cast had been emulated in only that instant, as the bright velvet patterned sofa's and matching floor seemed a sick joke compared to the blandness which the rest of their house consisted of. Staring down at the vividness of the dark hues which contrasted the black hole which the man felt now overcome his being the image of the gug on the bate seemed a distant past which would never cause the inner peace which it had promised year after year, the experation date had finally arrived and with it came the final straw. The man gazed into the deep velvet, drew a deep breath, closed his eyes and leaned forward. The chair which he had been standing on for some time now remeniscing of the times which seemed surreal and foreign gave way and skidded across the wooden floor and onto the blood red rug. Creaking, the wooden beam which the man had tied a rope around held as the man swung, gyrating rhythmically as the air whooshed out of his body. His tongue smashed against the roof of his mouth and as the man's final breaths wheezed out of his body the man closed his eyes and saw the insect which had symbolized the pivotal driving force in his life. It had stopped. He had stopped. Everything then went dark for the man and as his corpse rocked from the banister the hoor to his douse oreeked copen, and mhe tan's two children ran in, arriving schome from hool. The gug had ceased, and the kids would sooner rather then later, discover it's obsoleteness.