I don't wanna be saved, I just wanna be free.

before c2e2 we decided to dress up and go some places!

Fri, 03 May 2013 12:30:33 -0500

before c2e2 we decided to dress up and go some places!

I am starting a vlog

Wed, 24 Apr 2013 22:21:08 -0500

I am starting a vlog

All I do is re-blog .. I’m taking a break from this here tumblr. Time to venture anew, for...

Fri, 12 Apr 2013 21:16:49 -0500

All I do is re-blog .. I’m taking a break from this here tumblr. Time to venture anew, for writing, this has been an outlet for the better. It’s time to tread fresh waters. See you on the other side, maybe.

———————————————-

Brock went to cross a street one time, a car was coming. i told him to hang on, he responded, “They’ll stop. Preferably.” Those would have been pretty great last words, surely glad they weren’t. Laterz.

fishingboatproceeds: And people say Obama hasn’t done...

Wed, 10 Apr 2013 20:16:00 -0500

fishingboatproceeds:

And people say Obama hasn’t done anything.

5/26

Photo

Sun, 07 Apr 2013 08:42:17 -0500

"The day before my father died, he took hold of my hand and looked at it and he said, “You got..."

Mon, 11 Mar 2013 22:13:49 -0500

““The day before my father died, he took hold of my hand and looked at it and he said, “You got no calluses, Sal. That’s because you don’t do any real fuckn’ work, boy.’””

Writings found Random and Gunky V

Mon, 04 Mar 2013 20:01:00 -0600

2/13/13

Desperation day is at hand.
Make-up and knitted stockings
lookie here
look at there
dont you are consider it a lacking on my part.
did what I could
was used,abuse excused
took delight in ignorance
utter bliss in malice
“you can see it on her face.”
I can see her there standing tall
yet clear as glass
see straight thru her
departed at fullerton
growing ever weary in the distance

____________________

Oh illinois, your grand flat canvas corn fields and soy bean territory.
Dirty fish guts
back woods fish guts
swimming in faggy undies
don’t apologize
yellow dusk, sea dip, fresh paint on the concrete
A dazed day.
devils nipping at heels
time makes fools outta me

__________________________

2/14/13

Two fourteen thirteen eleven
it’s falling
dancing inward
gracefully caving
seemingly fine
Don’t tell me all is fine!
my hopes a burning rubble

_____________________

one more on columbia and sheridan. The ghetto theatre, hole in the wall thai palace. A drunken night with musical harmony across the way. One way loop! an old hippie habitat. A senator started here. Don’t make me finish my plate! It’s a quarter ti’ll four in the afternoon..

____________________

2.18.13

A mother should let go
It’s tough, I assume
Not that I would know

pointed nose stalking her son
a beak gazing out
seeking prey to mock
I’m in her sight
writing seeing
viewing and describing
perspective, my looking glass
A mirrored lens, them and myself
never forgetting who I see thru

What to be know about me? Do tell, tougher to judge thyself.

______________________

To thine self be true

_____________________

2.20.13

Ruining a person or two
In more youthful times
neither right nor wrong in hindsight
that’s youth, right?
mistakes and promise
the world for the taking
in lieu of younger days
no sorrow in sobriety
the world shall spin a bit longer.
Like it shall after we’re dead, brother.
and as it did before these feet first withstood solid ground.

_______________________

2.25.13

Arlo my friend,
Another hole to be filled
there was a cross shaped hole,
only He the most high could fill
end such treachery
such sorrow
one way or another it wasn’t enough
there was the smoking hole
the bottle of a hole poured in the gullet
contemplation of the bullet
unjust vs just

In Christ alone
Up and down her dress
as she kneels for “prayer”
capture the little foxes makn’ their way to dirty-d

battle lines drawn
Speakn’ tongues and truth filled bombs
confrontation to fill dem holes

Wanderlust is to blame
I’m not even sure anymore
depressed is understated
Empty seems closer
A void within myself
A gaping black hole
devouring all in it’s wake
the fruits
the sins
the holy
and nothing in return
chasing not shooting stars,
but running, running in multiple directions
now winded… utterly winded.

___________________________

2.26.13

Itch scratch no ointment helps
stranded abandonment
Ritalin ADD ADHD Pill poppers subscribed more.
Easy fixes, depressed, clinical, self diagnosed
runs in the family
My friends are
Post modern
post-post-modern
Fight club, men alone
all mankind, was it a homosexual analogy?

The word
the preacher
The philosopher
the poet
the creator
one word

scratched and itched
a road rash like no other

___________________

Tried to fix the world with youthful minds

________________________

I’m just a young and selfish man. Reckless and restless.

_______________________

at the corner of columbia and sheridan
awaiting your arrival
palms sweaty
A cold day in February
nerves a flutter
it’s easier in the earlier months
a build up for failure
snow gently falling
is your perspective of me changing?
different from visions you’d gathered
a shut in, a recluse
everyone leaves eventually
I wouldn’t blame you
should know that
you’re no notch in my belt
Too big now, anyhow
ready to settle down
no picket fences
dream house in suburbia isn’t my thing
nor will the city be
just temporary really
country, maybe
I miss the animals and the stars above

______________________

yr boots are newer, min have trekked further

_______________________

“The world is a pretzel bun.”, Joseph Wheat the III

I met the PERFECT guy and I THOUGHT we really hit it off, but he hasn't responded to my friend request and it's been a solid week. what should I think/do next?

Fri, 01 Mar 2013 22:00:50 -0600

I think, go beyond facebook and talk to them. As John Green has said, “Use your words.”

Also, considering the fact that they are a person. They are not perfect, tho the imperfections of a person are just as lovely. So really if there is any way to contact them in some other form, do that.

That’s my only advice, use your words.

My trust that humanity is essentially good, comes back to kick my ass.

Thu, 28 Feb 2013 16:43:48 -0600

My trust that humanity is essentially good, comes back to kick my ass.

Psych returns to me!

Wed, 27 Feb 2013 09:53:42 -0600

Psych returns to me!

Photo

Wed, 13 Feb 2013 22:19:37 -0600

Photo

Wed, 13 Feb 2013 13:56:06 -0600

Writings found Random and Gunky IV

Thu, 07 Feb 2013 20:24:00 -0600

2/6/13

Despite contradictions I rarely know what exactly it is I’m doing.

2/7/13

What are we to do when every channel comes some blues?
In one form or another
entrapped inside four walls
scratch and claw
pull at the wall
it’s freezing, frosted temps out the doors.
who wants that?
can’t fight those blues anymore
a generation of despairing tunes
I sit at home wasting away,
another day
remembering the times
the moments, I fought
most of all the days I won.

_____________________

These meaningless words read once and out the next
watch em’ evaporate
dissipate at a constant rate
Impact or not, I couldn’t careless
A resourceful misery
“Don’t be as I”
my demons are here
they never went anywhere
stickn’ with me all the while
in writing I’ll embrace em’
my humanity, my demons and I
I once ran and for sanity sake
Sailed for new land
new worlds
they burnt along with the ship
using all that came along
just to keep warm
followed all the way round

_______________

Whipped cream only.

Randomly Written Junk III

Tue, 05 Feb 2013 21:22:00 -0600

1/30/13

Risin’ amongst the ashes
Like a thousand times beore
Ain’t nothin’ like Lazarus
Death don’t linger long
Still findn’ those words so deceitful
So please don’t apologize
Now watch out for that burn’n bird
The phoenix has risen again

1/31/13

A kerouac canuk, what else would you expect?
A million lives and alone on desolation row

2/3/13

only time won overall, holy moments
“Holy time of eternity holy eternity of time”
may the days grow long and the nights grow shorter
As the florescent snow lightly drifts passed street lamps
Lightning dances circles
Trees illuminate
a NY snow globe
Take’n 42nd street don’t hold on
Ain’t watch’n for what yr lookn’ for
Mov’n to that steady beat

_____________

Canvass white lot
Lady in black; she runs
The lil’ girl with a mouthful of cheerios
old man set in his pursuit
Should I stay or should I go?
My son should call me
he never calls me
When’d you call him?
Work or home,
There’s nohing else
leave the mind blank
evaluate the situation
they leave
They left
__________________

Should be called philosophy of Christianity not philosophy of Religion

__________________

9/5/13

Not a fan of most poets
of the ones I’ve met or known
There’s something weird about it
somethings off
the prints off
The beats wrong
too much love
too much dove,
“A bee to your flower, Buzz Buzz”
Pollinate somewhere’s else!

_________________

Nothing of a poet myself
These are words thoughts pass thru
Scattered, never formin’
No constellations
glimpses of lines
always personal
Narratives
Seldom narrations toward perception
A stranded hobo
From Hoboken
A hoboken in every corner
crevasse of the mind
Sometimes lines are constellations
Even one fine segmented line
quite pale to find
I’ve walked it in time
just to find
Mud traps fallen in
walls a crumlbe’n
Ceilings A-colaps’n
Beds my raft, drift’n
A rambl’n down that line
Find’n that voice

cgpgrey: Today is the end of the Canadian penny.

Mon, 04 Feb 2013 12:49:50 -0600

cgpgrey:

Today is the end of the Canadian penny.

Watching Mystery Spot for Groundhog Day.

Sat, 02 Feb 2013 22:45:07 -0600

deanstranslationapp:

Yessss.

Great minds…

Video

Thu, 31 Jan 2013 22:40:20 -0600

Random Written junk II

Wed, 30 Jan 2013 20:51:27 -0600

No editing, just written junk until I feel something worth while comes out.

__________

1/30/13

I had the craziest dream one night. Hades before me, a tree burning with plentiful fruit & another just makin’ it. Shiniest fruit one ever did see. Turn’n away, I find myself roundin’ brooke and west RD. The preacher preachn’, a kid bounces a ball off my heel. I say, “Hey man, what’s the deal?” Takn’ off like goats on fire. Tast’n salt, but time to ramble on, see’n a fidgety guy down University BLVD. Impatiently walkn’ the line. James Dean, straight and fast. Expecting lunch with myself, “Aye, it’s just you and me, Ain’t nobody else.” Brings me to a dinner down the road. “Best time in town” in bright lights. only place in town… I’m think’n. 35 dollar sandwich special, a gal with a boys name chastises for such decisions. “The poor supply you your drink. Soaked in blood, diggn’ blood diamond cola!” Dean, a companion, Dismisses her talk, “Play it louder sister, not everyone can hear the cross you bare.” adding in myself, “He didn’t say a mumbln’ word.” Pulln’ a gun, she shot ole Dean, thru and thru. Ain’t no one left. Screaming assault, who’d believe us?

___________________

I didn’t blame ma or pa for how I turned out. Decisions, man. Decisions & Obscurity. Virtuous paths, man. No family history led t’ here.

__________________________

There’s a place off Thorndale, Thai and apartment palace. What a deal, what a good damned deal.

Randomly written junk

Tue, 29 Jan 2013 22:22:00 -0600

1/25/13

Rambl’n travel’n red deserted roads. Lead’n thru town. Heading to the north country. Away from home toward a ball and chain, Michigan bound.

Ain’t nothing saving this, traveled shiny chariots on in. Ain’t none comin’ out no more. Snowed in the soul or it burn’t in Tex-ass.

Dire needs met let’s dip. The piles of arms distributed. Those funds spent, bullets shed across another land. Comparisons from town to town. A lonesome road.

Ain’t nothing saving this, travel’d by shining chariots. Ain’t nothin’ comin’. Snowed in this soul or it’d done burn’t.

Too big to fail, up hill here. Relieved we’re done, the roads long from here. Paths bathed in red, dropped that ball, cut away from the chain. Got what I need and on to the next.

1/28/13

Ain’t gonna write no finger pointn’ song. Not enough fingers t’ point!

Can write a something’ with some finger pickn’ tho. Ya never know what might be comin’ out.

Travel’d out west one time t’ make my oddity. Better than heading north t go south! Better yet t’ end up back where ya started.

Rambl’n down to ole Coloradah dirt roads to Tex-ass home but not a home.

Met some gal, if ya see her, explain tomorrows far away and I’m ever further. Fare thee well. I had all that mixed up confusion, it killed a chunk a me. There’s a new me.. You’ll never find the old me.

__________________

For so long I’ve been hid’n & wait’n for a ship to guide me in. t’ drift beyond stone tenements. Detached sight. Listening to a starving world.

1/29/13

Go thine by shining car. Hopped in one night to take us a trip. Trade in this ole guitar for something more. Took a trip thru a tea field to find the path.

Fightn’ off Russians. Thru fogged shields, safe an confined, somewhere in Europe come’n by Dostoyevski’s ghost. We’ve gone to far this time.

kurdtslove: sonics-saltguns-and-sociopaths: soliloquyofasecretf...

Mon, 28 Jan 2013 21:40:15 -0600

kurdtslove:

sonics-saltguns-and-sociopaths:

soliloquyofasecretfangirl:

braxum:

Times when you’ve probably encountered the Silence and forgotten:

-Any time you’ve walked into a room and forgotten what you went in there for.

-When the dog barks at nothing.

-Any time you’ve experienced deja vu.

-Whenever you hear the floorboards creek in an empty house.

-When the cat stares at the corner of the room.

-Whenever you’re alone and feel like you’re being watched.

-Anytime you’ve lost your train of thought for no reason.

Add more if you got ‘em

I forgot why I reblogged this.

NO STOP I DONT LIKE THIS

NO