Random releases of various artistic, occasionaly intellectual, reactionary expressions of a madman losing hold of reality and the world surrounding.
life commentary, poetry, personal writings and photograpy
Showing posts with label rant. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rant. Show all posts
It
I'm living life like there's no such thing as consequences or mythological hell.
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At least it's not...
Sunrise
Monday
Closing time
Too late
Last call
On empty
The last shot
20 miles from home
Desperate
The worst I've done
Selling my soul
During work
Filthy sex
Cocaine
Expensive
Illegal
Morally wrong
Embarrassing
Wretched desperation
Fueled by self hatred
Average
Boring
The worst thing I have ever done in my entire existence on this earth
Ignorant
Fueled by sex
Just plain stupid
My very last dollar
Pathetic
All I am
Life
Heroin
Known by others
My peak
Who I really am...
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Unicorn
There's no such thing as clean sex, there's always baggage, worries, risk, love or no love? No, it's sex. It can't be that simple but it is. It's getting off, feeling good, we all need it. Why so complicated? I know the differences, I know how to express with or without love. Passion is passion, heat is heat and it all feels good. There's no reason to hold back or give it all. Just feel good. Everyone should just feel good first and let the world happen around that.
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Are you sure I'm alright?
I just dropped in to see what condition my condition was in.
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Hang me by an 18th century rope
I'm caught in between intellectual and worthy of death
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post title
Yes, here I am. it is a Thursday night. I am lonely, I am nothing. I have done nothing. Nothing is new, nothing is old. Sell some vintage, jerk off, get drunk, you are no one. I do not want life anymore. I remember things, I remember dreams, those are all price tags now. At the level of "if you need to ask, you can't afford", I feel no hope or inspiration. I feel no drive from seeing the wretched enjoy the same level, I truly have nothing and deserve nothing so I am content with my return. I hate myself as society does. I want to be simple, I want to not care and accept my fate, I want to be content but i just cannot. It is not pretentiousness wanting to be cool, or to be real, or whatever the fuck, it is just me wanting to be be me. why cant I be me? I don't even know who me is anyway, in retrospect. I am just a deviant of society nw. I an not an "American", I'm just some cur of society, some deviant of the underworld scraping by in some pathetic want but not through laziness, I like to work hard, I like to earn money, I like to be honorable and good, not by any standard but because that is who I am. I feel best when i work really hard and have money to help friends and others achieve, to have fun, to live and experience life at irs fullest. That is life, to live, to experienced, to be, to be ones self.. I am sttifle am suppressed.
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"You're the one with the crazy piece of fruit"
I called out to you, did you hear me? You were so far away.
I thought I heard you.
I awoke in tears.
They won't stop.
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A little chill in the air.
Ah, the first cool night of the season... Put on that favorite coat that has been idle since March/April or so, check the pockets and see where life had left off at that point, maybe even look back and see how much progress has been made, how much better things are:
Expired cigarette coupons
Empty Trojan box (3 pack)
Unused carpenters pencil
One hitter in plastic bag w/trident gum
78 cents in change
Checkbook (one used)
Non-functioning bic
1 2" screw
So everything's the same.. Fuck...
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Now
I really want to start my life. I have so many visions and ideas. I need a partner though, I'd hate to admit. I think I may have one but it's not in stone. I'm lost with only an "idea" of what I want and must do. Things may implode once again and collapse but could equally blossom and explode in a vibrant glow of hope and destined happiness. It's one or the other...
I'm lost.
I do not know my next move. I'm a mess but with a vague plan. I have dreams with equal nightmares along side. My heart is barely a factor yet should be the drive.
I know nothing.
I've ruined everything.
Life could be wondrous.
My name is rubbish.
Help and I will please you.
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Jacques Cousteau
What the fuck have I done? I chose the worst paths possible. There is no solid employment as an artist, my fall back is construction, equally as stupid, one cannot keep a job in this region. Even best case, such as a union gig, its job to job, constant layoffs when the project is done. I am "worth" so much with my experience but no one gives a fuck. Why am I awake at 5 am without having to go to work? I completely fucked up. that's why. I was so against the computer age at a time when if I had embraced it, I would have been a leader in my field. I loved so much taking photography classes in high school but my senior year they weren't even offered anymore because digital and computer tech had taken over.I missed it, I denied it, I considered myself a purist when all I really was is a fool. No more developer and stop bath, not even a dark room for fucks sake.
So many wrong turns.
Where the hell is my baby?
Where the hell is my life?
Who the fuck am I?
If I had had a single focus on even the most mundane of careers or dreams I would be a grand success by now, I am old and over. My "loser" friends, even the drug addicted "gangsta" types have happy little families and homes by now. I have nothing. NOTHING! just a loving dog and a few trinkets of memories of good times when things didn't matter.
I don't understand it, I thought I was a good man, a hard worker with a good heart, I care about others and want to make the world better for all. Ive done nothing to fall into this category. I am nothing but love and care for the world around me. I am true of heart.
I like working hard, I like to earn things rightfully and pass on anything I can to others but I cannot even take care of myself or those literally closest to me. I cannot even show my love to my sweet pup.
I have such greatness inside me but no one will ever see it.
I have lost anything I have even come close to having. My soulmate, my second chance even left me, my old dreams, my new dreams I was forced to accept and run with, they have all left me...
I cling to the most simplest and worthless of things, I can have a deep, intellectual discussions on a wide range of discussions focused on art, politics, life and cosmic existence, I look good in a suit, I can work unbelievably hard in the most physical scenarios, I have skills and talents that surprise all, even me. these things mean nothing, however. Am I great? Of course not, I have done nothing.
I have helped no one, I have made no difference in this world.
I rescued a dog from depressing streets and gave him a loving home but even he is anti-social and selfish, more than even I.
It is too late, it really is. I remember when I turned 30, justifying that some great men took that long to be who they were but that was long ago. I feel hated and worthless now.
There really is something wrong with me, not a simple pill solved issue but a real core of who I am.
It is hard though, I am no drug addict, not a loser kind of criminal type, I am good, full of love and kindness, striving to make a difference beyond myself. I am not saying I deserve anything but I should have opportunity, a chance to make a difference, even if only through art and expression that I feel great passion and understanding of.
I want to call out to my love, let me show you.
It is all gone and cannot happen.
I did it all wrong. Every move was wrong, every idea was bad, all my dreams were ridiculous.
No one cares either so I do not know why I sit here typing away these stupid words.
Talk to me, tell me it's ok and you want my dreams to be true, you believe in me as I do not.
It's ok, I don't need you, I don't need anyone or anything.
Good day to you all...
So many wrong turns.
Where the hell is my baby?
Where the hell is my life?
Who the fuck am I?
If I had had a single focus on even the most mundane of careers or dreams I would be a grand success by now, I am old and over. My "loser" friends, even the drug addicted "gangsta" types have happy little families and homes by now. I have nothing. NOTHING! just a loving dog and a few trinkets of memories of good times when things didn't matter.
I don't understand it, I thought I was a good man, a hard worker with a good heart, I care about others and want to make the world better for all. Ive done nothing to fall into this category. I am nothing but love and care for the world around me. I am true of heart.
I like working hard, I like to earn things rightfully and pass on anything I can to others but I cannot even take care of myself or those literally closest to me. I cannot even show my love to my sweet pup.
I have such greatness inside me but no one will ever see it.
I have lost anything I have even come close to having. My soulmate, my second chance even left me, my old dreams, my new dreams I was forced to accept and run with, they have all left me...
I cling to the most simplest and worthless of things, I can have a deep, intellectual discussions on a wide range of discussions focused on art, politics, life and cosmic existence, I look good in a suit, I can work unbelievably hard in the most physical scenarios, I have skills and talents that surprise all, even me. these things mean nothing, however. Am I great? Of course not, I have done nothing.
I have helped no one, I have made no difference in this world.
I rescued a dog from depressing streets and gave him a loving home but even he is anti-social and selfish, more than even I.
It is too late, it really is. I remember when I turned 30, justifying that some great men took that long to be who they were but that was long ago. I feel hated and worthless now.
There really is something wrong with me, not a simple pill solved issue but a real core of who I am.
It is hard though, I am no drug addict, not a loser kind of criminal type, I am good, full of love and kindness, striving to make a difference beyond myself. I am not saying I deserve anything but I should have opportunity, a chance to make a difference, even if only through art and expression that I feel great passion and understanding of.
I want to call out to my love, let me show you.
It is all gone and cannot happen.
I did it all wrong. Every move was wrong, every idea was bad, all my dreams were ridiculous.
No one cares either so I do not know why I sit here typing away these stupid words.
Talk to me, tell me it's ok and you want my dreams to be true, you believe in me as I do not.
It's ok, I don't need you, I don't need anyone or anything.
Good day to you all...
too late?
I have done too much damage. There is nothing left of my hopes and dreams. All I do is piss people off with my failures.
Remember when life was about the moment? Doing good meant doing good right now. It didn't need significance of years worth, it just meant doing good today, or now.
There is simplicity in nothingness but it isn't fun, rewarding, or leading to anything.
It is over. You are over.
Remember when life was about the moment? Doing good meant doing good right now. It didn't need significance of years worth, it just meant doing good today, or now.
There is simplicity in nothingness but it isn't fun, rewarding, or leading to anything.
It is over. You are over.
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I never said any of that.
Damn, such drunken ramblings, typical of a broken fool. Many true points but presented sloppily and crudely.
It's just a good thing no one reads any of this shit.
It has gone a terribly wrong direction.
Repetitive and pointless. Topics of no interest to anyone, badly written.
From now on its only poetry and reviews of movies from the 80's...
It's just a good thing no one reads any of this shit.
It has gone a terribly wrong direction.
Repetitive and pointless. Topics of no interest to anyone, badly written.
From now on its only poetry and reviews of movies from the 80's...
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Foolish one
What drives you? What do you live for? Dreams are just dreams, not goals. Goals are not climaxes but simple steps, minor achievements.
Fuck this, I have lost my ability to express.
No one reads or cares of this shit anyway,
or of me and my pathetic existence.
I know I don't...
Fuck this, I have lost my ability to express.
No one reads or cares of this shit anyway,
or of me and my pathetic existence.
I know I don't...
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Scotch
I admit my style is stereotypical of that of an artist, a crazy person, or a bum. All three terms could easily be used to describe me as well. Though I'd prefer "artist", it's the one I must earn.
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Lie and deny
I don't know what to believe anymore, I thought I could trust my own heart and follow it to some kind of achievement, a blissful dream even, but again I fooled myself and made a fool of myself in the process. O these torturous dreams of mine. Purest pleasures, intimate, deep feelings released and traded, a begging for my soul to let loose and feel it all. They must stop. Reality is now, though it sickens me, is and always will be as it is. I haven't control of my own thoughts, feelings, urges and cravings but they will eventually be snuffed by reality. Let us hope there will be a leveling off soon.
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Gerald Ford?
You have done nothing in all the time? You are like an old man with no valid excuses, looking back and knowing everything, especially the everything impossible. Dreams are sickeningly vivid. Sad, passionate and full of such intense, pure energy. Again pleasures of the mind not achieved in reality, nor is there any hope of it, just a deep longing for things unexplained.
point.
You have expired, it is too late for dreams, childish fantasies of good times, pure of heart moments. Broken, rebuilt, re-self-created means little at this point. energies and urges must be ignored as the realities clash. You have lost in many ways and won in others...
Accept things, absorb petty praise and continue on.
Lose yourself within yourself and just be. Be something though.
I am on such an edge.
This whole thing is a mess...
Crazy, just fucking crazy, life is.
I do not know what to think or assume is what is.
Fast, short run of blinding experiences and harsh realities. Its almost over.
point.
You have expired, it is too late for dreams, childish fantasies of good times, pure of heart moments. Broken, rebuilt, re-self-created means little at this point. energies and urges must be ignored as the realities clash. You have lost in many ways and won in others...
Accept things, absorb petty praise and continue on.
Lose yourself within yourself and just be. Be something though.
I am on such an edge.
This whole thing is a mess...
Crazy, just fucking crazy, life is.
I do not know what to think or assume is what is.
Fast, short run of blinding experiences and harsh realities. Its almost over.
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A whole lot of fucking up
I have nothing, I have way too much. A minimalist who owns one of everything worthless. My thoughts have no content, no inspiration or visions, no ideas of any kind. I do not create, I do not feel.
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Why did I do that?
Typical. You knew better, you even promised yourself to never feel anything again because you know the result is bound to repeat. Well, brain, I told you so. I turned that shit back on for nothing. You've been reduced again. Broken down again. Lied and betrayed. Again.
Fucking idiot.
I hate that putrid emotion again. It's useless anyway, a distraction of what is really important: my selfish pleasure and self made reality.
I knew what I was doing but I had to feel.
Foolish.
Feel nothing, be sick and sad only. You've lost and deserve such.
So there it is.
Lost.
I don't miss "it".
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