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Jan. 9th, 2017

(no subject)

The gritty, smooth voice of Tom Waits plays, as the spoon of sugar to wash down my cigarettes.
This night is slow moments.
Treelines.
This evening sees me staring off, and wondering where I've put my lighter.
(The one that's on the table in front of me)
I'm looking at a scene the modern Picasso would paint; rough like those brushstrokes. Rough as Mr. Waits' vocal chords have gotta be at this point, as he's 'walking Spanish' down my soul.
Jazz rhythms preoccupying
my thoughts, no stress.
Simple.
Just my cigarettes and this low lit patio and piano,
in the city of trees.
Enjoying the small things,
pacifying my temple,
and happily gulping down smoke; with the stares.
Im not really seeing much of anything.
I love my vision;
it spares me spots in scenery, and then focuses on random
fa-fa-fa-finer things.
That scruffy dimming treeline,
outlining coming dreams,
right past the mess of evening traffic on the street.
(my eyes do this magically)
I put my feet up in the empty chair across from me.
'Only tables for two' I think, in the same voice lamenting a tattoo tear.
That "one for every year he's away, she says", that Waits with baiting breath grooowls!
[I think] 'More chairs for me'.
I sink back and relax even further.
'Picasso painted lonely so well'
I note to myself, as I notice a gouge in the architecture in the building right next door, that I thought would use a lot of
oil to put to canvas, were I to,
and the waitress brings me
my check, without even a word.
"That's my girl,
This place has the best service!"
I whisper inwardly, as I tip.
I tap my stubb long burned out, and the remain in ashes fall to a tiny cloud of dust in the wind, but not the meaningful kind.
Standing, I tap the folder that has a nice surprise for that [not very nice] waitress [who seems like she gets me],
as she scans my table like a hawk hunting people who are dine-and-dashing, and the green out of its top looks to ease her.
I tip-toe outta there,
Off into the ether....

Jan. 7th, 2017

Birthdays

I think I like the concept, but i lack in accuracy managing whatever is supposed to be accomplished with them. Unless it's just to remember to change that number?
My morose and headstrong lack of vision is decided on, and it could be risen above where I to be above that.
I feel low, no way I could be above anything..
Nah, some things go without saying, to be above,
So long as you're on two feet, the world will say
But I think they go even if I'm face down on the floor, or any other way.. anyways..
Today is eating at my innards, as my inert response to this custom is to hate liking it and then to dislike when it goes exactly like I expected.
NOw why I wonder would my brain manifest this, where it not what I want for me? This expectations deficiency.
I think I need to release the side of me that is set on being disappointed, and that convinces me to feel that way almost easily.
I can see through my extremely narrow motives and my understanding makes a force relative to the one acting on (or against) it at the time, so it is like when physics happens, like matter in fact, and when the force is met with it's match the urge to be childish gets truely tamed. Muted as would be noted when speaking on symphonic dischord and resonance, and i retain that I shall not insist on expectation again.
In my mind, reverb from my messing with mental tuning, echoes as I'm ruminating in this train of thought I've hopped.
I'm the vagabond you just saw running barefoot to catch it (the train of thought). The one you silently wanted to fall while watching me there, running from out of left field next to the station.
I can't blame you, if I'd been in your boat I'd want the same thing too.
Well ...... if i were in your boat I wouldn't need the train in the first place now would I? Perhaps nevermind.
Birthday, first day, worst day to be
A perfectionist who doesn't know what they want and a sad sack of on wei.
Birthday, today I am to be "A 28 year old on the verge of spontaneous combustion, woe is me."
-Red hot chili peppers, I couldn't have said it better.

Birthdays

I think I like the concept but i lack in accuracy managing whatever is supposed to be accomplished with them. Unless it's just to remember to change that number?
My morose and headstrong lack of vision is decided on, and it could be risen above where I to be above that.
I feel low, no way I could be above anything..
Nah, some things go without saying, to be above,
So long as you're on two feet, the world will say
But I think they go even if I'm face down on the floor, or any other way.
Today is eating at my innards, as my inert response to this custom is to hate liking it and then to dislike when it goes exactly like I expected.
NOw why I wonder would my brain manifest this, where it not what I want for me? This expectations deficiency.
I think I need to release the side of me that is set on being disappointed and that convinces me to feel that way almost daily.
I can see through my extremely shallow motives and my understanding makes a force relative to the one acting on (or against) it, so it is like when physics happens, like matter in fact, and when the force is met with it's match the urge gets truely tamed. Muted as would be noted when speaking on symphonic dischord, and i retain that I shall not insist on expectation again.
In my mind reverb from my mental tuning, echoes as I'm ruminating in this train of thought I've hopped.
I'm the vagabond you just saw running barefoot to catch it, that you silently wanted to fall while watching me there running from out of left field next to the station.
I can't blame you, if I'd been in your boat I'd want the same thing too.
Well  ...... if i were in your boat I wouldn't need the train in the first place now would I, so nevermind.
Birthday, first day, worst day to be
A perfectionist who doesn't know what they want and a sad sack of on wei.
Birthday, today I am to be "A 28 year old on the verge of spontaneous combustion, woe is me."
-Red hot chili peppers,  I couldn't have said it better.

Dec. 31st, 2016

(no subject)

Most would rather be at tension than at attention. More interested in defending their position than in meeting anyone in the middle, truly getting to know people. This is why everybody feels so alone I suppose...

(no subject)

They Say
You can lead a whore to culture,
but you can't make her think.
She could meet your mother
but it wouldn't be free.
Good for a porn,
but a bad documentary.
She could stand for something
but it wouldn't mean anything,
Just drop her over seas,
call her the statue of liberty,
Then give her your tired,
ship her your hungry.
But as a whore
she hasn't the facility,
to tend to those you immigrated
(they become the casualty)
So, you can preach a new world order but you cannot make it succinct?
This new whore of a culture
will then blindly mislead
all the cattle fighting battles
of a war they in truth feed.
Fighting, killing, rioting,
all to keep the peace.
We can openly admit this...
Why can't we make it cease?

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