| legal pleasantries |
[Jul. 15th, 2009|09:59 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  distressed | ] |
I don't even know what to say at this point...it makes sense, the world has to right it self somehow, doesn't it? karmaic justice looms in the future and I sit here trying to not lose it all...
up and down
up and down
down
down
down
down
up
up
up
up
I will become stronger
I will become smarter
I will not lose |
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| fuck you |
[Apr. 10th, 2009|04:22 am] |
I have bits of you stuck in every corner of my heart
my brain sends little signals every so often to the
rest of my body that says, "don't you remember?"
I remember, I remember all of it...
The Good
The Bad and
The Ugly
I remember the beautiful too
I sometimes feel like I remember to much,
it serves no purpose now
I have to tell myself to stop reminiscing,
I shut down my internal dialogue
I dismiss my subconscious as ones shrugs away the ludicrous
I keep moving...
But I see you in the left turn lane
and in the girl in the library
or in the footprints I've left in the dew
I'm a 20 million $$$$$ mistake waiting to cash
on the interest...
look for me when I'm falling, maybe you'll come with |
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| nothing can change |
[Apr. 4th, 2009|11:30 pm] |
when I lay awake at night,
cloaked in the invisibility of my
own sorrowful misgivings,
I
hallucinate
-back to back-
gloomy spring evenings
of dangerous naiveté.
living the dream
im still dreaming
in soaking wet reflections
deformed by those perfect rippling circles
I
exasterbate
- towards you-
allowing these winds
to start wars
Ours was a small town love stolen
by even smaller time villains.
I lie
--in and beyond---
suspended
disbelief
as I envision the details of
a momentous get-a-way.
gloom meets evening,
a dark suited gentlemen
two whiskey's
d
e
e
p
pretends he doesn't notice
as evening walks through
the door.
the air smells like smooth vintage furs
everything painted in yellow and black
and it hits me...
"i must find something to scare me"
peering through covered glass
i'd a told you the weather
but it never caught up to me
she was drunk my sunrise
that lazy bitch
a l w a y s
talking out of turn
evening sat next to gloomy
and in her eyes
I saw that she was running
on borrowed time,
she didn't ask for a drink,
she didn't get the time...
The light from evening's dress
became muted as the door shut,
blacks and latinos swayed to the blues
while the crackers remained
in back glaring at evening and nodding at gloom,
disappointment and familiarity chase the gin.
the door opened and evening had
never looked more her part.
From within her dress
came a pearl handled pistol
-the one that shot mr. afternoon that very day-
gloom looked back in time
to see the bartender call misery.
It was gloom's shotgun this time,
-polished steel at face level-
"what would you do?" cried the bartender
the crackers shook their heads
while the others slowly turned away
the bartender and misery
knew the drill
as they instructed fortune to hand
over the till.
maybe I'll come back to this... |
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| The amount |
[Apr. 1st, 2009|01:01 pm] |
|
of mentally ill people on the streets of Detroit is disturbing...I have to believe there was once a time when we helped them, when we had places/institutions for them to go...it's sad and scary...What if I turn out that way, walk around on 7 and woodward, yelling into the air, spitting at spirits, and hoping for some sort of reprieve that never really comes... |
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| broken bones holding loose you will be crowned |
[Jan. 6th, 2009|10:23 pm] |
I've looked into your
eyes and seen the ocean,
past the floor there is something
that grows inside the hyper colored coral...
you're housing something more
then hope and a soft spoken eel..
you're a mind eating against
the troubles of our time
and I'm a tourist stuck in a cage
watching you fall behind me
watching you glide against the bars
feeling the
metal
in
your
teeth
I'm trying to catch my breath.
I've got oxygen pouring from my
eyes and now It's your teeth
that I feel against my bone
and the boats above are
quietly droning death lyrics...
there has always been something slightly hypnotic in
the way you stalk me...
I've been slowly leaking desperation and
we've never looked hungrier...
I know you can
taste our stillness so roll back
and let me in..
behind these bars I'll keep taking your pictures...
If I thought I could
see your soul I'd snap quicker,
but i've written countless stories about
the endlessness of your eyes and tomorrow
I'll tell them all how beautiful
you can be but today I'll stay wrapped
in your arms and think only
of the weightlessness I feel
between your legs... |
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| This story is over |
[Nov. 7th, 2008|03:49 pm] |
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I was freaking out for awhile..for two months I couldn't get my fucking head together..I got arrested and dropped out of school..said fuck it and I think I was actually trying to let it all fall apart..I lost someone real close to me..they left and I don't think I knew how to deal with it..it was hard..I loved her and she left..The most important girl in my life for the past 3 years and we were really done..a whole country separating us..I really did fall apart..I let it all fall apart..I was cracking and I almost ran..I almost took off like I used to do when life got to be to much..I would run..hide in the most remote part of the country that I could find and wait it all out until I was craving human interaction and starting to go insane..this time though, I just kinda rode it out..shit went down for a few and I just stayed on board and now things are starting to look up...there isn't anything really poetic or deep about it all..I'm trying to be content with my life..I'm building stronger relationships in all areas of my life..I'm cutting out the bullshit and the tedium of interactions that left me to drained and dry to be more..superficial interactions based on weak definitions of friendship and faith..I'm trying now..I don't know how to do anymore..I'm just trying to make things work..I can always run..I can always relocate and try something new..I can always be something different but here where it's so hard to do or be anything more then average..to prove it to myself that I can be real, I can be myself and still succeed while throwing off the advances of everyone constantly trying to bring you down..including myself..I'm the worst..I can't help but bring myself down..my biggest critic..my biggest hater..fuck We Hate..I Hate..I hate it all...but I'm smiling today..even though my basement was covered in shit and I haven't changed clothing 4 days..I'm smiling, being here right now makes me smile..I hope you know that |
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| Stein |
[Oct. 7th, 2008|09:33 pm] |
| [ | music |
| | The National-Alligator | ] |
"And because you not always can keep your eyes shut there comes the real trouble-the heart pain-the world pain. I tell you, my friend, it is not good for you to find you cannot make your dream come true, for the reason that you not strong enough are, or not clever enough."-Lord Jim |
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| NYE |
[Jan. 4th, 2008|12:13 am] |
NYE brooklyn year two..nice weather, good times..your typical time with a bunch of drunkass motherfuckers tryin to wild out..Some memorable moments, new tattoo and a nice hoodie...the more time I spend around drunk people in large social settings, the easier I find it for me to study human behavior, specifically base behavior, involving sexual interaction between men and woman..what works, what doesn't work, how people allow themselves to be controlled by their sexual urges, how people respond to being approached sexually, and how often lines like "you want to see my room" work..being sober in the midst of all this and watching people that I know interact with others and watching strangers work their way into the scenario allowed me to really observe how alcohol makes people act..what was interesting as well was the fact that so many people I know, have drug and alcohol problems that I got to observe the very depths of addiction and dysfunction at the same time. It makes social interaction interesting but hardly tolerable..I want to be a recluse, going to the bar or large social gatherings is starting to wear on me. I'm finding it harder to adapt within these situations making me uncomfortable and prone to chain smoking..I don't feel like I get it anymore, slowly fading interests are pushing me against the walls and I can't seem to move from them.
The winter sucks, 2008 sucks, my financial situation sucks right now. I signed up for classes and I don't have the money to pay for it, I'm thinking about dropping the class and being a hermit to save money during the winter..saying fuck school and banking throughout the winter and then bouncing during the summer..I don't know what to do, I'm already very hesitant about going back to school, scared and pissed at my self about having to do this in the first place and now I'm not even sure I have money, wack steez.
kitten, feel free to save me from this city and myself anytime now |
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| ernest |
[Dec. 20th, 2007|01:34 am] |
|
If people bring so much courage to this world the world has to kill them to break them, so of it course it kills them. The world breaks every one and afterward many are strong at the broken places. But those that will not break it kills. It kills the very good and the very gentle and the very brave impartially. If you are none of these you can be sure it will kill you too but there will be no special hurry. |
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| your storied halls |
[Nov. 12th, 2007|04:50 pm] |
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I don't know what it is that makes me think of you...certain moments...a flash in the window...a feeling of nostalgia...a feeling of wanting to be deeper then the surface..but all I really want to do is have you tell me a story...tell me stories about your fears personified as an empowered assassin, tell me lies about your childhood...tell me anything that makes me want you...The silence that I'm bordering on is starting to drain out the moving of my own ambition, my own drive. can you tell me a story? would you tell me a story? I promise I'll listen..I'll give you everything I have for as long as your there and when you leave without making a sound, when you leave and I wake up wondering if last night had really happened..I'll think of your stories, I'll think of your lies and I'll make it them my own. |
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| you know |
[Oct. 4th, 2007|04:00 am] |
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it was a good night when I come home and I can feel the paint stuck to the inside of my nostrils, I feel like I've accomplished something. |
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| death of a god |
[Sep. 26th, 2007|03:38 pm] |
my dream went something like this....I had forcibly kidnapped a group of 13 people and was taking them to a house, I had a few guns and was attempting to extract some information about an ancient god and how to get him to come down to earth at first the people were less then enthusiastic about giving me any type of information on this god but after I had apologetically shot a few of them, the scene began to shift as they gave up more information on the god....the scene became grotesque and twisted..suddenly the house was under a via-dock and the walls were painted with the brutality of an ancient people that had worshiped this god and as I shot more people to get more information on how to bring him down to earth, I could feel the evil swelling up around us, the images on the wall shifted and the pain and torture of the victims in the scenes could be felt around you...but after awhile I found that I had to burn alive, myself and 13 willing people, to bring this specific god down to collect our souls...but the plan was to kill the god and replace myself and the 13 people in his stead...the 13 people morphed from faceless people into my friends and I was now offering them immortality for their lives. So I went around and talked to each of them about their sacrifice and how it must be willing and given with purity in their hearts and as I did this I poured lighter fluid all over them...I poured it all over myself and I lit us on fire but it was weird because the fire never really got going, people got euphoric from the fumes and some had passed out but the blazing inferno needed to bring down this god hadn't started so I had to go from friend to friend and douse them with lighter fluid, looking at them knowing they were willing and pure and as the house became filled with flames, I could feel the heat of the fire and of my friends around me...someone had changed the music and it was playing something new in the background, I couldn't tell what it was but as I stood on the table waiting for this god to come I looked around and saw 13 of my friends burning alive, waiting for immortality. I looked around and told them that it would be ok, that what I had taken from them would be repaid a million fold and looked up at me and in their dying eyes I could feel the trust, they trusted me as I set them on fire. Then as we were dying the god's presence became very obvious, it was old and decaying, a neglected god, almost completely forgotten to the times but when he reached over us all I could feel his weakened power, old and ancient power, wilting, but drifting and hoping for a chance to be reborn. But before he could take us I lifted up my shotgun and shot him several times in the face, killing him...the gun went off over and over into the face of this ancient being and his strength was so weakened on the lack of sacrifices that he was killed and I ascended in his place....I watched my friends burning and saw the purity in them and from there we were immortal.
I am truly fucked in the head....
please share your thoughts on this dream... |
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| silence |
[Sep. 19th, 2007|08:32 pm] |
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When I sit around and think about the way things have turned out, how my life continues to spin rapidly from one axis of extreme to another I wonder where the silence/calm lies..I wonder where it is within my life there has been calm..as much as I retreat or attempt to step away from one whirlwind, I inevitably end up stepping right into another. I am interested in the quiet within myself, that place where I don't have to struggle against time to feel like I exist, where I don't have to struggle against people to feel like I matter. I have found some peace, peace within myself, peace in who I am, peace in where I am and peace in my future. The problem with this peace comes in the fact that I am at peace when I am alone, being alone is not an option, nobody wants to be alone but it invariably comes from my personal relationships and even with people that I have absolutely no relationship with that chaos, drama, unfulfilled relationships are spawned. I want personal peace, I want calm with stimulation born from my own thoughts, my own actions but more then anything I want to have that with another. when was the time when I believed that there existed a peaceful chaos within us all. a peacefulness that strives for growth, that strives for a greater understanding of ones environment through art, activity, through chaos-chaotic growth with a center of calm, where is my center of calm but within myself, I've always thought that there would be a compliment to myself, a person that would be my calm, someone to offset my own internal strife, but what is it that draws me to the opposite, to those people that project their chaos into my life and my chaos into theirs. this enhancement of chaos used to spawn creativity, movement and growth but now I find it just creating pain and distance between the people I interact with and the interactions driving me to my find my own peace, solitary and confined within my own head. how this circle of chaos, solitude, and peace is finally complete is something I struggle with, maybe I'll end up a priest, monk, in the army or as survivor man..he really is the shit. |
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| rubber and pavement |
[Aug. 3rd, 2007|03:33 am] |
Rubber and pavement
wind against the body
and the skyline against light.
The streets begin to look the same,
to quickly the beat faces light up
fiends, hustlers, johns, and police
all working together to provide the
perfect back drop.
I’m racing by,
bag on my back,
steel on my side,
the streets are cautious
“what purpose could drive you
so mad at this time of night, boy?”
I address my work calmly, working
while the days heat overtakes you,
sweat stuck to your chair,
the incinerator down the street thickening
the cooling air and the trucks
MY GOD THE FUCKING TRUCKS!
I can feel the warmth of the
engines not more then a foot away as I’m moving by.
Gasoline fueled monsters assaulting the pavement
flinging exhaust and concrete warnings to any onlookers
“WE TRUCKS ARE MASTERS NOW”
but their purpose is singular mindless beasts,
loading-
unloading,
meat, vegetables, chemicals, drugs,
waste, bodies, even our souls,
all being transported as the streets
sift through the pages of her broken story.
But last night the streets spoke back,
blank eyed rage spitting outwards
BUCK BUCK BUCK BUCK BUCK BUCK
ducking, hunched over against the brick,
I looked through windows,
dark stained, grimey-misshaped
-Shards of glass-
jostling for position underneath my feet.
I can see the flickering lights from behind,
the grass shades my silhouette from the street
but the
RED
BLUE
WHITE
lights are flashing closer
the lights are getting closer
and the night is erupting
THE LIGHTS ARE GETTING CLOSER,
and the street is whispering
urgency, hurry son you don’t
belong here, not yet, move along
boy…just move along and my bag pushes
against my back, shaking the evidence
loud enough to wake the dead
but with the rubber making contact with the
street and that steel on my hip,
the silence and lights become nothing
more then a better version of me. |
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| it is |
[Jun. 23rd, 2007|08:50 pm] |
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we all take chances in life, either with our health(mental and physical), our freedom, our morals, our responsibilities, our goals, we chance it every day in each choice we make. every choice ripples, influencing the next one, sometimes one choice, whether we understand its implications or not ripples in such a way that the path we are currently on becomes lost to us in the wake of spiraling circumstances. I chose to focus only on the spiraling because more often then not it is the truly bad decisions that register with us. The good ones are just fodder in the background of our everyday life, our happiness, our laughing, our smiling is not necessarily noticed in a single moment but when you are sitting there and everything appears to be crumbling around you and the brightest days could not be any darker, we sit there and ponder that choice or the one before it. How did I end up here? what did I do to deserve this? Is this karma? Is it universal justice in the face of such personal carelessness and selfishness? For when I sit here and wonder what choice it was that I made to get here, I do not look back and see injustice or a world that has wronged me but I see random choices, loss of self control, a desire for affliction from affection-affliction from affection-what a great band name. I can blame everyone out there for never really understanding me, I could blame you for trying to make me into something I'm not, I could point fingers at the people around me for seeing just the person on the surface and yet that appears to be irrational. For rationality speaks to me, whispering gently into me, "it is you, it is your decisions, it is your choices" and rationality in her infinite wisdom does this all so objectively, neither looking to point fingers or place blame on anyone or one specific moment but to point out the relationship between my lingering over lost chances and my own human failings. I look back and peer into the person who was steering the ship at that time and I see me, but inside of it all, I appear hollow, void of something and now I look back and wonder what choice was it that allowed this part of me to escape. |
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| there aint no relying on whats gone |
[Jun. 14th, 2007|12:45 pm] |
my mind is working overtime these days so i'm attempting to keep my body just as active. I went on two bike rides yesterday, the first was to find a game of basketball, my usual courts were empty and then my second choice wasn't looking to good so I went over to murray wright and found some games. I like playing with random kids, sometimes the games are the most fun maybe not the most competitive but I get to pass the ball and interact with the kids and for the most part I'm usually accepted, although yesterday I was called jon barry which is never cool so after that I proceded to bust their prepubescent asses over and over again until they stopped calling me jon barry. I always end up picking up the little guys as to make the game a bit more even. but that was fun, a twenty minute bike ride followed by 2 hours of basketball and then I watched hostel 2 which sucked pretty bad, dissapointing because the first one was pretty entertaining and then I went and hit a building with 5 fills, which was real intense...my forearm got a real workout and then I jumped down to the freeway and busted some shit down there. I think I'm going to go to the pool and read, I'm getting to be a nice indian red, I imagine this red for "dem heathen redskins" so I'm going to try and make it an irish red, as in the color my brother turns when he gets sunburnt.
I have a feeling I'm going to be writing in this a lot, so please if you feel the need to respond to my journal try not to delete your comments hours after you make them, I would rather you didn't reply at all oppossed to not give me a chance to reply. you know I'm talking to you kitten. |
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| I can't find nobody home |
[Jun. 13th, 2007|12:49 pm] |
often times when I wake up in the morning, I'm so disoriented from sleeping that I forget that yesterday has happened, in that 2-3 minutes of grace I forget who I am. all the stains, all of yesterdays decay has blossomed again. and then I start to remember, first it's my dreams and lately they have been violent which is abnormal for me. I have violence in my dreams but I'm usually protecting somebody or righting some other universal wrong but lately they have been violence born from irrationality, jealousy, anger, rage. these mornings I wake up and i'm not sure what I have become or who I am turning into.
I am finding out what it is to be alone these days, there is so much swirling around me and so much that could be that I find myself shrinking in the face of it all. so many patterns attempting to replay themselves again again and here I am walking away from it all. there were moments when I would have held on with everything that I have in hopes of filling myself with the essence of another, in hopes of having them be that filler but what is that, avoidance, escapism, futility. I'm waiting to be floored, i'm waiting for that kiss that shatters all the walls but in that waiting I find glimpses of it, moments of light followed by ensuing personal insecurities and a past that never really falls away. i don't know what it feels like to look upon another and just see them and each time I'm touched by another, each time I stumble across a person who I feel that initial spark with, I end up running or pushing them away for something more comfortable. for that spark is definitely uncomfortable, because by connecting with another person we are saying, look at me, I'm not perfect, I have flaws, I am not strong, I am often times weak and will make bad decisions. there is a past that you might not understand, there is a present day haze following us and from under it all do you still see me? how do we lay around with passion and hope on our breaths and ignore that we are not always going to be what we thought we were. I want to have you understand me, I want you to bring me into you without reservation of the future, do you remember the times when spontaneity led to the most earth shattering love, poets wrote and creativity flowed across the country as the steel body and rubber wheels carried us from the next state. I remembered all the dreams laid out there, all the hopes, all the promises, the soft words, the understanding of each other and yet I have forgotten where you are. I have forgotten where I am. I think that I have become so used to distance, the protective measures that I am now just figuring out how many sparks I have snuffed out before allowing them to grow into bolts. I regret and brood, I regret and I wonder, I regret and I remain unfulfilled. I miss you, I miss me, I miss you and I. I hope that we will find each other again.
enough of that nonsense.
I remain, momentarily, yours-
Robert |
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| He was a good man |
[Jun. 8th, 2007|10:41 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  sad | ] |
| [ | music |
| | sigur ros | ] |
Jimi died during the night-I'm really going to miss the little guy. 4 years together, sometimes he was the only thing holding my chaotic life together and now my furry little moment of zen is gone. there are many many things I will miss about the little guy-please remember all the bunnies out there in your thoughts today....
rip jimi |
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| begets |
[Jun. 7th, 2007|01:12 am] |
I left me when I left you
I couldn’t tell you what
You were feeling in that
Time before now-
Pills
Booze
Cynicism
Bought on the ideals
Of self induced destruction
Painless separation
Left neither of us
Filing for reparations-
Broken bottles,
Spilled blood-
Lost innocence do you
Remember when I tried
To revive you?
A child pretending to be grown
Grown pretending to be child-
Amalgamation melding broken ideals
Into uncertainty and straight laced
Hypocrisy
A contradiction from your
Every spoken word-
But do they know?
Do you think they can tell?
How do they know,
where one begins
and the other ends,
I’m having trouble rationalizing
Who you are
In spite of our success
And it’s been a
Glowing
Ranting
Raving
Panting
Heaving
Fucking
Largely unsatisfying success
We must come to the terms
Of our separation…
What will it be, deviant of the morningstar’s light?
Will it be eternal inebriation?
Drenched in the pulsing lust
Of instant gratification,
PRESSING
The blade of fate
against the throat
Of each and every moment
Just to see that smile.
It’s been a distant
Look in from the back of the room,
the crowd sensing a growing nervousness
as the anticipation of one final
Delusion sets in.
Delusion begets normalcy
And normalcy begets sneering separation. |
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| pages |
[Jun. 7th, 2007|12:28 am] |
It was years ago
That I remember
When I tried to call
Your name-
I know you heard me calling
Down
the
street-
your silhouette shaking
shadows from the porches. |
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