The Tale of one Brave Motherfucker

It’s all quiet on the surface tonight,
There’s a pale moon that suits the mood just right,
Pendulous high in the sky,

They never told me that I’d be so alone,
never mentioned the emptiness when I was young,
How the pain can grow and grow,

Gotta get it off your back
before it claims you
as another haunted soul,

An awkward landing, now I’m back where I started from,
Gaining insight and learning as I go along,
The body’s a host for a soul,

I found my footing after tripping up on my feet,
I apologize and concede defeat,
It was never really bout me,

Gotta get it off your back
before it claims you
as another haunted soul…

More lyrics to come.

It’s out of mind,
I’m in control,
I caught the dime,
the change in time
we let it go,
Help me, find me,
everybody please remind me,
Claim me, try me,
Evolution can’t defy me,
Cause I’ve been tortured,
all sorts of,
Mind games,
The clinical trials,
to find out what was warping me,
The doctors didn’t know,
the kid still had to cry,

That’s all I got.
The pain he felt inside,
was the pain he felt in mind,

This is a, storytellers vibe a story tellers mind,
Seek, the good will and hope, a revolutionary time,
and the Hours they tick tock, no need to find the grease,
there’s a flame in the eyes, the most generous taste of this,
There’s the Freedom, the soak, let it all build up,
That blue in your eyes, never needin to provoke,
The esscence the life force,
the heat in the right moments,
The endorsed decision of red cheeked intermission
There’s the knobby knees, no need to please,
Here comes a virgin in contrast a sleek body please,
to the pasture,
we go the place where you dream,
Cause I give up, you won it,
The never did, you done it,
the feeble, the crazy,
and trust me I went hazzzyyyyy

Bored. Rap.

Man if I were a super hero I’d want my power to be that of foresight. I’d want to be able to see ahead of myself, not in the way of altering the future but in a graceful sense of making conscience decisions. This power would help me act less manic. I would be completely at ease because I would get the time to view all decisions at hand and make the proper one with no reservation.

This whole superhero concept comes from a real battle with my self-confidence, a real earth shaking evening. It’s been years since I’ve felt emotionally exhausted. It turns out I’m not as healthy as I thought I was. I hate hearing or reading the term demons. These aren’t demons they are issues. They are mental stop signs that have been planted throughout my brain. They help me avoid a clusterfuck crash of ideas, rationales and morals. While on one side of the spectrum I am thankful for them, on the other hand I’m terribly angered that I’ve allowed them take such control. I can’t let them have this power.

I wish I could just know how she feels. I wish she could see this side of me. The side ready to change. The side when I’m happy. When I don’t feel like a lunatic. I have to show the real me. The bag lunch trapped in his locker.

Watching pupils dilate,
the sun escape the clouds,
the beginning of the rain,
the gas fuel tank,
the people zombie,

I Like,

Feeling the heat of food,
the need of booze,
the ice of skin,
the honor of family,
the lack of power,

I Like,

Smelling the memories,
the stench of rat,
the fresh laundry,
the home cooked meal,
the morning breeze,

I Like,

Tasting the first sliver,
the cold beer,
the medicine,
the cheap toothpaste,
the neckflesh,

I Like,

Hearing the right note,
the wrong answer,
the excitement of love,
the hatred
and the train underneath.

Teach a kid to listen,
watch the quickness of the disobey,
feel the poise of dis-concern,
it was easier before you,

The children bark,
they wimper,
and try to suicide,
of a boat that couldn’t get started without the man.

I get the water,
I grasp it,
I hate her water,
shallow, always swimming away.

The giant metaphor isn’t forced.
It’s a scientific revolution that grasps
how unsafe she is.

Zero contact equals zero future
equals zero resolve in the poison ivy.

Show some skin for the shame you feel,
show some leg for the acknowledgment that we were never real,

Goodnight kid,
I wish we could kiss.

Goodnight torture of my thoughts of future,
never thought I’d meet an ice that couldn’t melt.

Women do you better,
Let’s be honest you were afraid to want her more.

I loved our time,
my spunk,
and your disillusion.

This mindless brain wanders, creates, sympathizes, and recreates trauma. Like a magazine of soul, I have too many issues. My intent priceless, my procedure, traumatic. I learn them. I live them. I love them. I pursue, I endure, and I end up here. In this promiscuous thought pattern that has wronged me a thousand times over. The words, “I know you are difficult to deal with; but, I want to deal with it, ring true. I apologize for non-wrongs, I accept false truths, I don’t fight back…I’m afraid. I’m Casper the friendly host. Make jokes, not war. Bide time. Sacrifice. Cause one day, it makes sense. Fuck you, you, you, you, you, you, you, me, you, her, him, that guy, her, me, and then maybe that future thing. Get money, live, she’ll come by. Save the dog, sleep isolated. Fuck you. Happy pre-birthday Rob.

I just watched the television make a mockery of smoking weed. Smoking weed doesn’t make me unmotivated, this exhausting wait does. All I hear is that you have to make your life interesting. What can I do, play in a rock band, see my bands name in lights? Oh wait. I guess the only way we can really make this dream a reality, is by just getting in a van and playing our hearts out. Im tired of this freakin place, I’m tired of waking up in the same town, trying to make myself feel strong enough to wake up and do it all over again. I really and truly only feel special when I have an instrument in my hand. I guarantee that noone ever felt this way. I have a girl in my bed and it’s as if I don’t exist. What a shitty feeling, to have wanted her so bad, and now I watch the breath of the relationship slowly exhale itself out. I dont want to lay in a bed with someone who doesn’t want to show emotion. I’m tired of trying to make it work. What a creation. What a painful feeling, that she’ll never know. Well it’s been real, time to sleep.

I sit in boxers on a bed that wants company. I know once wednesday comes around I’ll have my company, but I want it tonight. I want to hold someone, right after we’ve exhausted our sexuality. I want to take those deep breaths, I want to relax after the strain of - “Oh my GODDDDD!!!” - and be relaxed. I want to be wanted. I’d like a girl to bring her cute adorable pajamas over to my house, rather than have me supply my favorite pair of yankee shorts. Not that it’s upsetting to wake up next to a cute chick in an XL August on Sunday shirt and my Yankee shorts, it’s just tonight realistically. I miss losing my breath, I miss truly giving a fuck about it. I am such a weirdo and I feel my skills are getting unrecognized. And by weirdo, for all you sickos, I mean the hysterical, sarcastic, homely, kind of weirdo that make good jokes into great ones because they are reserved specifically for you. I guess wednesday is close enough, here’s to all of us lonely lovers that just want some warmth, I know you’re out there, and here’s my AMEN! for all of us. Goodnight, and sleep thinking of puns.

It’s like watching a bad movie
about how useless watching bad movies actually is,

I see the actors,
the plot,
the scenery,
but I don’t actually
believe it,

Love songs don’t come on
when you’re talking about love,
unless you are overdramatic
and then let’s face it,
you’re alone.

Giant fight scenes and the complex plot fall apart,
and transform themselves into a comedy,
nobody cares who your pointing at,
it’s rude to point.

There is one good point,
love affects and effects,
all of us everyone,
from the people who run from it,
to the people who run to it,
from the miniature gold courses to the malls of America,
it seeps its way into parent-teacher conferences,
hides in the beer bottles and hard alcohol of every nightclub,
it lives in all children, even if it does vary in degrees,
it still exists, it’s still beautiful,
it’s still strange,
it’s still crazy, it’s still stupid,
it’s still love.