Brothering me

Neurotic wasted energy, gallops around me while I think of you. this is my past. this is my past.

Wasted energy isn't always bad, I mean if it's bad energy that's getting wasted then it's good. We need to burn that shit out.

I saw this guy that I knew in university. I didn't think he recognized me, I'm wearing clothes that are much more fashionable now days, I noticed he looked great, he was fashionable since I met him.

It's good to change, to start new things and forget about the past. Like lovers you abandoned that didn't abandon you, till you just thought about them and you realize that actually yes, they've let you go too.

Time is the key, the teller of it, the ticker of the truth. It's relentless and it drives us toward what we're meant for.

The faster if goes the faster we miss out on many things we thought we were going to be focused on.

My family, has changed, grown and gotten smaller. My family is really what I make of it. It's not like there is a lot of us being born.

Wasted energy is fine if we waste it on what it needs to be wasted on, cause it's all wasted anyway. and recycled, over and over again

You think that sometime in the near future it'll cycle into me...

Run me through.

the hat you wanna wear

Following your gut is one thing, being a glutton is another. My life's been so good I don't want to give anything up.

One thing I don't want to stop doing is finding ways of getting to know people.. I want to get to know as many people as possible. Like in real life, not just through social media. You have to just do it. Or you die. Most people might push you away, and that's ok but it's important to do what you want.

I want to full fill my fantasies while I'm still old enough to do it.

I've been definitely moving in the right direction, and it feels good.

The worst part about getting what you want most of the time is what happens when you don't get what you want...

Then you realize you're probably an addict and you should chill out.

the art of this is bullshit

SHooting the shit over and over again. Looking for anyway to getting out into the world and back inside my mom... strange how we see ourselves as adults, when we're not.

I've been thinking about discipline and I think that it has something to do with success. Now we're disciplined in our own way. We've all let ourselves choose our evils that keep us moving forward. Hens shooting the shit over and over again.
I've been getting everything I want out of life in the last few years, I've learned my self worth. I haven't earned it, but I've learned it.
This is a feeble world run on some pretty thin and miserable set of rules.
Every time I set myself up to see what's next I make sure that it's between another womans legs.

I use my face though, with confidence, makes me feel a little less feeble in a world where a woman can be seduced by a poor artist in less than three sentences.

But that's just the way it is. The artist has that kind of foresight into the world. Being able to taste the sweetness that comes form that art of seduction has everything to do with being an adult.

frosted

What I've wanted to tell you for so long is that you were right! Yeah! you were right! I'm actually completely indebted to you. If if was not for you I'd be sleeping in the streets.

I'm going to be sleeping on the streets is I don't decide to change. The world is turning into something not everyone understands and I'm sitting here thinking about what others are thinking. I don't want to deal with drunk of speed freaks. They don't have any minds.

 So many people are mimes... just stuck. 

Scene 2 act 1

He's woken up by a harsh ray of sunshine. His eyes open. We pan out to see him sleeping on a busy city street's bus bench. He's down town. There's people passing him. In Both directions. He makes his way into a sitting position. He yawns.... pats his hands around. And when he can't find what he's looking for his eye widen and he begins to panic...


He imidietly reaches into his bag thats stashed under the bench... his eyes widen again as he gets a grip on his camera.

"You ain't much! but you're all I got" Right as he say's this he hears his stomach growling... he looks both way thinking of something to eat.

"You're all I got... we have to finish this project together. Before we're allowed to eat."

He takes out a cigarette and a prescription bottle full of pills.. The smile he had staring into the lens of his own camera is over come with the face of a desperate addict. he takes two pills before he stands up and starts his day...

Scene 1 act 1

It was something I needed to do... It was something I needed to do. I needed to do everything. This is so overwhelming.
You gotta start writing more. It'll help with the spelling.

Yeah...


The scene should start off with him walking home....
It's still night out, dawn in coming. He walks through the streets. He watches the cleaning cars clean the streets. Everything is dirty, he's dirty too.

He keeps walking, mean while he drinks a mickey of cheap bourbon.

"Pussy" The scream comes from behind the dumpster. It scares him, but in his drunken stupor he decides to take out his trusty old camera. An old lil relbel with a 50 mm on it. He sneaks behind the dumpster and snaps a photo.

It's dark... the image is blurry, but it's perfect. It's exacly what he needed to finish his work.
The subject an elderly lunatic looking for cans that can talk back to her continues her search without even noticing.
He keeps moving. The day is just beginning to break as he gets to his special place. The Sun is just starting to show his face in the horizon as he sets up the tripod ....

He takes the pictures of the sunrise...

"What'er you doing you bum?"  she asked him. The same woman from the dumpster.

"How's you find me?" he asks. He knows what she's going to say...

"Shut up you fuck face!"

They both just stand there in the sunset and stare. 

sex on a north sask beach ...

What the characters are thinking is easy. We're preset. It's fate. Imagine eating your favorite meal every time for the first time. Dream about having that all the time.

What are the characters thinking, it depends on the them of the story. The story has it's sweet spot. It's not a big deal .... at first. You need to entice the reader. Essentially you have to make them want to hear the story. Suspense, patients helps. ....

Wanna give someone something?  Give them a long drawn out blow job ....

So she let go and just watched ... like a single woman that's watched every law and order

Logic loves me... things that are meant to happen to me all the time. I'm not a failure, I'm a fuck up. There is a difference. Not many people understand that they are all fuck ups. We're not suppose to be here, we're a freak of nature... Why?
Well it started out as a sexual act between celestial entities.. They were young and hardy. Both potent and energetic. They fucked vigorously but they were using condoms. It was how it was done. Preventing any kind of biological exchange was  their way of avoiding the circumstances of life.

One night 15 billion years ago the contraceptive broke and all hell busted loose. The two were caught red handed by fate, fucking. This may have seemed a failure in hind sight but it wasn't. Fate knew they were destined to fuck up and that's why they weren't failures.
They had a baby. It's name was the universe. They stood along side it and watched it grow. They did everything in their power to protect it from failure. That of course caused more fuck ups... which were definite examples of fate playing her part. Failure was never an option until, until of course one of the two celestial entities decided to change. It wasn't that he no longer wanted to be there, it was that he could feel himself harden.
That was the only feeling he despised and he would have done anything to get rid of it. Fate offered him one way out and he took it. It was to fail his partner and leave their universe.
Now this was a failure and not a fuck up but not because of him.. it was because of fate. She knew about the way he was going to behave. It was all happening in her small lil universe in front of her. It was this microcosm of actions that she could relate too..
 She watched the tiny reflections of herself in the matter in front of her. She knew that she would never be recognized by the tiny bodies of material and chemical composites that were floating around in her universe. 

Logic is for the pope

There is so many ways to love. There isn't that many actually.. there is only one. When you love yourself you indulge in other.s.. when you love others they indulge in you. You love others by loving yourself and looking to yourself for the solutions to the problems in your life. If you look to others you'll avoid everything.

I fell in love with this woman a while back...I fell in love with her selfishly though. She was my soul mate.. but I wasn't destined to stay the way I was. Souls change. Peoples hearts don't. Heart is a much more reliable fabric in which one should invest their live. It's funny though because the heart is a vehicle for the soul. Most people don't let themselves take control of their heart. There needs to be more control over everything.. so most people just let there soul stay in their head.

There is many ways to love... but there is only one way to indulge the heart and that's to let it feel. The hear isn't numb. The soul can't feel. So it's scared of hurting it's self since it doesn't know when or if it's hurt, logically it assumes that it's wounded and shouldn't take any risks..
Heart and soul need to join or you're nothing but a fake.

couple shakes like that

Too much of a good thing can cripple you. Imagine not sleeping for a week... Imagine not eating either. Well maybe like a wink ... and a couple shakes or something.

Life was easier in the States, everything was less expensive. I didn't know what I was going back home, I just was. Things weren't going well for me living in Wisconsin. So I drove to Alabama.

The week before I left my life was a series of flops... busts. Well I guess if I look back correctly there was also spring break in Montreal.

"What happened to you in Montreal?" She asked me, she was fucking hot too. Long blonde hair. Taller then me, skinny. The two of us met before spring break, she was an American guest on the international student bus to Michigan. It was a ski trip the first I'd ever been on.

"Eww!! What's that?" She yelled, as I stepped into the hot tub. It was lint from my sock.. I had not rinsed myself off before I hurried to meet up with the girls in the tub. They were all so beautiful. I was only twenty two.
"So what happened in Montreal?"  she asked again. I looked at her with my eyes... I was emotionless and high. She knew that about me, she never cared because she was mess up too.

On her sixteenth birthday she decided to driver her new 4 Runner off the road. No big deal except for her eighteen you wasn't wearing a seat belt. Then found him up ahead a couple dozen meters in the ditch. He was never the same, she blamed herself but she never stopped drinking.

"I was high as fuck in Montreal!" I wasn't lying. I was so tweaking in Quebec I slept with my buddies Roommate, she was seventeen years  older than me.
"So" she was holding my chest when she said it, "what did you do?" I don't think she was expecting me to answer the way I did.

That was one of the first things I did. Losing her put me on the fast track to fucks ville, I was on a one way train. At least with her I went to school. After she broke up with me the only reason I went to school was to meet up with the dude that hustled at pizza hut. We were buddies, he had massive prescription for speed. We talked a lot to each other. He was also the go to dude for weed. His name was Dave and he was my first passenger on the way to get fucked.

cause I'm not taxi driving .. im in prison

Gotta let myself be myself... well there is more to it then that I guess. It's strange finding myself jealous of the people around that mean nothing to my life. My life is getting better, I'm becoming someone that can find out what's going on around him.. but that's mostly because I don't move round much.
That's new, I'm not as exposed to others as I used to be. I'm laying myself on a line.. I'm on the internet, this is the internet.

People can see this, and they do. I let them.

It's nudity for real. I'm naked and ranting that I am real.

The back seat's been empty.

And I did..

Dance floors are usually made of hard wood and good ones are luxurious and clean. My parents owned a dance floor and I can distinctly remember what happened when my father was installing the remnants of the studio dance floor into our living room. Cause the house was going hard wood style.

He wanted me to help him, but I was for sure too young. It was just me and him. I know I hated helping him because I could never do anything right. He was installing hard wood.. It's a process, he gave me a hammer.. It wasn't what I had wanted, I must have been eleven at the time dancing on the concert part of the floor. When I hit in the face with it.

I think I knocked him out. He got hurt, I knocked him in the head with a hammer. It was bleeding and everything. I'm not sure if it served him right, but it was bound to happen.
I remember him sitting on the step next to this pile of hard wood. He was looking at me, his eyes looked desperate. He wanted me to drive with him to the hospital. I was like "fuck that" but he made me anyway. We drove together. It was a unique bonding moment.
He was fine, the doctors put a stitch in it or something. The hospital is where I got my fill of children's literature.

He wanted me to help him and I hit him in the head with a hammer. That's what I did to my dad, he finished the floor alone. I can't recall ever going back to that. But I can remember a birthday party that I had once.
I really had to go to the bathroom....

Who's a freak...

There were those moments when I was a kid that I can still remember.
Having just got back from Europe to my mansion in saint Albert I can recall making thousands of phone calls... Well it felt like thousands. And since I was a kid during the time before caller ID I don't think my best friend and neighbor ever realized it.
The incessant  calling occurred while I waited for him to come back from his vacation. Everyone one in the crescent was on vacation, I just happened to have arrived a week earlier then the rest.
That was my luck. And I was the one phoning an empty house. I had more than one neighboring friend, but this guy was the coolest.
Funny how that works, he was two years younger than most of us but he was the coolest. He had the right stuff. His place was where the party was at. His house had the perfect parents, the sweetest sister and the hottest mom.
There were four of us in the crescent that hung out and it was cool. We were a solid group. Every one of us had a pretty solid life. Mine was the only immigrant family. We were never so solid as a family group. It's a shaky topic I guess.. Well that's what I thought.
Ends up... a few years down the line one of the kids in the hood got a brain tumor and died..
He was the type of fellow that always tried to connect with me. He had the perfect family.  I never could hold that communication shit together, while I was out in the world he used to send me letters that I never returned. I was a dink. I still am. Once a dink always a dink. I've realized that.
I've always wanted that lifestyle. To be that person whose house makes them the go to guy on the block. But that wasn't real either. That kid became an accountant. The third some sort of rig pig..
I'm not envious, they followed their fathers. I haven't done that in anyway outside of the fact that in the eyes of most people I'm pretty much a loser. I didn't get a brain tumor though. But my dad's a dink.
I had a kid... and now I guess I have a chance at giving him a perfect lil pad to brew his social life in. It's my job to do that.. I want a hot wife though,
Guess I'll have to get a couch.

So we eat ourselves

It's tough looking back and finding out why things weren't better for us as Bos'. We were a tough breed of folk but we're cannonballs. There were those moments when we stood up as a family and went to the movies.. that happened once. It was Jurassic Park, there was the water park too... once for sure.
It's easier in a smaller pack to remain stable. Not offend anyone enough to cause a problem. Everyone in my family was sensitive, we're a strange bunch of social animals. It was nice when we could all sit down and talk about how much we were collectively hating on a specific parent.. It was usually my dad who we blamed for everything. He loved playing the victim. He still does.
My father is the prime example of what not to become in life. He knows nothing about what matters in his life because he doesn't know what maters.
Love is all that matters and if a member of the family doesn't understand that blood is what keeps a breed around for generations there is a serious problem.
Immigration is something that's gotta be done in numbers.The families that are going to succeed are going to be able to nurture themselves. They're going to be about quantity over quality...
Everyone will do everything to live in the north American part of the world. We're in control of a bunch of resources. They fuel the economy and create sub divisions of class's of people...
I'm not going to be king. No one who needs to work the night shift will ever be king.
My family must inherently see that...

harder on them

There was that time I told the story of my falling to the world. There was this time where I was with my  family in Europe. We were so young, I was like nine and my cousin was thirteen. We were trapped in Germany at my Nazi cousins place. MyNazi  cousin was closer to my mothers age. She had a daughter that was my age. We hung out. My cousins daughter was going to school at the time because the Germans did not have a routine schedule like Canadians institutions or the rest of Europe.

We had to stay in Europe because my cousin didn't want to drive us to Poland. Poland was where it was at. There you could play with fire crackers and get drunk before you finished the fifth grade. I felt trapped in Germany, every thing there was so pretentious.
There was this time I was playing soccer with a bunch of the locals and I scored on my self. I was lucky that I wasn't crucified on the swing set over in the neighbouring park. I also played soccer with one of my cousin's neighbours, he was this kid that came to visit his grandmother… She was this crazy grandmother lady that'd feed us sandwiches and tea before we were off to kick ass..

The old woman was married to this man, a man my cousin's daughter accused of touching her. I played soccer with the old man's grand son, and he was always able to kick my ass..

Falling to this world's gotta be a common theme. We're probably all victims of one mans gamble or the next. Women can be treated like men too… Life's

Or I guess I do.

"There needs to be a way we can settle this." His voice echoed, he always sounded like that, the other one's voice was always small and rusty. "Yeah, I know what we should do to figure out that they're all just a fallen breed" they both turn and look at me. "I think I know what you're saying!" he says, again voice booming, the little demon playing cards with him smiles.

The demon takes the deck and offers out a hand, I don't want it. I know what drawing a card will entail. I'm at their mercy, they get to gamble it all away. When I pull the card I'm not surprised to see what I got….
Bos… fuck the worst hand in the world… Fucking world..

I feel my self fall immediately it was awful and cold, I can remember screaming, and according to my mother that continued for a long time. I wet the bed too. ..
My first memory was that of my brother and I, we were fighting at our home. I must have been two or so years old. We were fighting over a gun. My mother scolded my brother for trying to take it away from me. I got to keep the gun, my brother hated me for it. I just smiled and waved..

Falling to the world to become a Bos was not my original objective when it came to existence. I'm a pawn in a game of cards. This is one of the most difficult roles I've ever been given because I don't generate the outcome based on my one view or through my own behaviours, they're just using me to watch what these folk down here are about to play out. I just happen to have the right perspective.

Seeing myself as a fallen creature is enough for God to know that the devil's going to have a hell of a time disguising himself or herself without me recognizing her…
I love her and she knows it, I'll find my gun, cause I'm growing up in this place, soon enough I'll die and be back at that card game.. or maybe not. I don't know...

To stutter ... shutter.

I don't want to let her down... She's so important to me. I haven't felt this way for so long. I can't let this go. I've been waiting for her since I was a little boy.

"she loves me" is all I can say. She makes me sick though and hungry. She makes me suffer. I can't let her go.

These are the words of a weak individual who is going to grind his way into the pavement.

"You have to let her go, or you'll end up alone. You'll end up dreaming of her and she'll already have done this to dozens." His voice is inside my head. I'm just a little boy listening to what is on the inside. It's my father, it's my family. We had one and I believed in it. Why? Because I am weak and I need their support. I never knew they were what was going to tear me apart.

Blog more they say.. What the fuck am i gonna blog about. Making something out of nothing. Turning a leader into a God. Now that's for Nazis. I'm not into that shit, but I got to eat.

You have to let her go... "I don't want to!" Why? What's the point of letting go of one of the only thing that makes this place a Kingdom for you. I'm a fucking lunatic. And this reality is for me to control. I get what I want because that's what I've given myself to have.

Lovers are a dime a dozen... sex and that shit is easy. But love is a pricy experience. It eats at our soul and makes us vulnerable.

so be religious and eat shit.

It should have fallen apart a long time ago... but this ain't soap it don't run out...

Good, bad, right, wrong, up, down, there is no such thing in the long run... It's all the same right?

People tend to think that the world is going to break, I wish I could hang out with an astronaut.

Imagine seeing the world spin under you the way they get to... Everything we'll ever be, trapped, on a ball. It looks so ugly these days. I'm guessing that you can see it degrading from up there, it's running out.

I think mother nature chooses to see what play's out on here surface. I think she likes to push things to the edge as she reaches a certain point in her life.
She may even have a little bit of materialistic qualities in her...
She's enjoying letting us become real gross creatures I bet. She's older and I think we're really giving it to her.
Strange way to see it I guess. The astronaut probably see's it as a ball. A mass of partials that you can understand. He predicts "good things" when he say's things to the news anchors but he can really see what's happening on the planet. He can recognize the pointlessness of it all. I bet he appreciates that it can even hold itself together the way it does...  
Bet'chya  he doesn't talk about the crack you can see... just to protect us..

my mag

So it' s hot and it's cold. The weather is really fucking with us... I wonder if that'll get any Albertan to stop and think about what they should do to distribute all that crude crap they love to make.

When you meet with people who have jobs, they don't do what they feel is right, they do what they are told. Girls especially.

I think they can do that because God is a girl. She's hot and she's cold. She likes to fuck with us. I wonder if the girls will ever stop to think about why they let their superiors walk all over them.

When you meet a superior there is two things you can do. You can be a subservient and do what you're told or you can tell the boss how to do things better.

If you do the latter and your suggestion is right... You're the boss. Now this presents many dilemmas. usually if you live in a Capitalistic society your idea will be ripped away from you and misinterpreted. Then it will be executed wrong and cause more problems for the world... But the boss who stole the idea will probably end up on top.

But remember anything that you do that makes the boss more powerful makes you the boss. The inportant thing to remember here is that people who have power are not able to behave like average humans call normal.

When you're in a position of power the best thing for you to do is avoid letting anyone know what you're up to.

So they never know where you're at. You have to sell yourself to people if you want power. That doesn't mean you lose yourself it means you tell people what they want to hear. You have to do it over and over again... Eventually a whole country can look at you and think that you belong to them personally, when in fact all you ever did was visit their city and go on TV.   

 

Im the only one with a gun.

There have been changes .. I was outside a club tonight. I had this 2,000$ outfit on. I m stunning. But I'm skinny and tiered looking too.. Not bad for hipsters, they like me. I walk by these police officers. Not typical police, but the SWAT unite.

I had just watched them do their surveillance on a bar. I do my own surveillance.. I watch the room in my own way. I know what goes on.

They don't! I didn't either... not tonight. I'm Fucking sick. I've been sick forever. All I want to do is curl up into a ball and die, except when I do that I seem to just wake up in cold sweats.

Everything is sore today for me... I'm run the hell down. But I'm doing my thing, when I hear this cop tell his colleagues "I think there'll be a shooting at the Marquee." I over heard him right. It kind of pissed me off. So I went back and said "I heard what you were saying there" handing him my card "I shoot all these clubs... You should call me?" He looked at me and asked "What'd I say" I kind of looked at him funny. He wanted to know what I heard him say. I'm kind of in a comatose tonight. All I had to say was "it was something about the Marquee."

I wonder if he'll at least check out my site. Tactical unites, they should not be bullies. But there is a certain level of danger at the clubs. Gun violence is kind of rampant.. but ahh... I ve never seen it.