your nisPe is showing.

certainly i have put up this song before. put up with me for my repetition and notice that repetition is reality.

and that is what is so frustrating, i feel like there is something different going on inside me but i realize that i am just a repetition.

i can’t shake this feeling that i am not gonna do anything. what is that? foresight, knowledge, suspicion, doubt or fear?

it’s raining right now.

i had an awesome time with a friend tonight.

additionally, i saw another very sharp girl on my way back to the 3d story. we shivered in the rain together. and i miss her.

getting off my chest says anthony green, without you, i would find a way without you.

 

feeling overload

bottled skies

i’ve been drowning

a faltered sea

and i give up

common sense failed again

meddling in a foreign sea

foreign tree

time wont spare

daring me with another choice

i don’t know who to fight any more

i don’t know what is right anymore

i don’t know how to feel anymore

i don’t know what is real anymore

 

i can do that shit

i’ve got words in my bones and words give me a boner

 

but are you doing anything. sitting and smacking your steering wheel in traffic to mewithoutyou. thinking that you’re passionate. while kids are getting trafficked. that’s them without passion.

honestly i sicken myself

doing nothing is a choice, and it looks a lot like pleasure.

that is why music is so important, it brings me out of my self-hatred. it makes me feel life is real.

la dispute puts laws to the dispute in my head, then colors them with kicks and punches and the blood of a cheater.

maybe a life in the woods as a school teacher where i just prepared and learned and focused would be better.

i have this dream where i have colleagues, and i simply work hard. i have all my necessities and the occasional relaxation that breathes freely with the knowledge that i could die happy then. but i feel like the back wheel detached from the frame. and i wonder how long i will be here still. rolling yeah, but aimlessly driftin around.

oh doubters lets go down lets go down wontcha come on down, down in the dirt by the river to lay in the mud the clothes stained with childrens blood, your hand me down happiness that feels a lot like a mess of unrest and fearful uneasiness, nestled in a tower built by a lie said by slave drivers

so if you care to come along we’re gonna curb all our never ending, clever complaining as who’s ever heard of a singer criticized by a song? why did we trade our tears for fears, at least our tears made us feel.

says the guy who could potentially get paid to cry, but then why can’t he cry?

i don’t know……

maybe she isn’t that special and i have made her more than i maybe should have. i mean this is all pretty gay hahaha.

i sat in my car wondering whether or not i wanna do it. but it isn’t anything. it’s just fear of having a good time and trying. i guess i am just whining for it to be easier.

and i sat in my car thinking about fear. i just wanna conquer fear. if you got that, then you got it all. and there is no plateau with conquering fear. but there is something called determination (knowledge of self).

what do i think is going to happen after i die? i stand by that. nothig will happen. something will happen. just about everything will probably happen. but i’ve got infinity in my coffin to be right about that, so i’ll take a few years of humility recognizing that arrogance is the only happiness happening.

what’s tha profound sound? definitely not kyles files full of trying. i really like this whole bloggin deal because i am realizing that when i sing out loud in the crowd, it’s allowed, and only called loud because you disavowed to put yourself out there. where are you putting yourself when you’re out there? you’re putting yourself in the game. and that’s what this is, a game. but to some life is war and putting yourself out there can mean you are killing someone or taking up prostitution. fuck it, that’s not necessary.

you can breathe, eat and smile every once in a while without that. that’s not an ideal. i don’t really care about organization, order the world however you’d like but we are all just lovers

born of earth. we are a natural disaster. down to earth. cause we are all just lovers.

haha you wish.

fuck you, pay me.

and that is reality.

no i will not ever be happy. but i can let it drive me. bob dylan, what a baller. but i can’t get into that whole grenwich village thing. i dream of it like i dream of fly fishing like i dream of fulfillment.

fulfillment is just a dream i guess.

the hard work club. i wonder if it exists. nope. im starting it.

i feel like this blog is the antithesis of this and the anthem of the antiantithesis of itself. bwahaha. no, not the anthem of the hardwork club. the anthem of the antiantithesis if this blog is the antithesis.

one after 909 hahaah 909 is the word after the 909th word which is “after”

and i am not after the afterlife. i am over the after life like a numerator is over the denominator because you cannot denominate life and end up happy.

everyone is golden now. i love portugal. the man. they are the portugese. which are the man. but everyone is not golden.

there is thing called injustice and i have always felt like my sister should not lie so i told on her. honestly, that is the only thing i could really say that i feel for, injustice. then why don’t i care that women are being opressed when my mom is doing my laundry?

i don’t know… but when i am introspecting, i spectate a speck of a spark emanating from something you can call a heart.

that’s right anthene’s theory of everything, you’re right, but i am right.

gossipping about what albums to listen to is absolutely pointless, sure we can continue to be affected but i wanna be affected with the result of affecting and not just in culture gossip.

i don’t wanna build houses either. i don’t really care about them that much, no one cares about the poor, the hungry and alone.

but i wanna fly into the blazing sun, that’s my true dad. and i will be him. i am king beetle in my own world. no doubt about it. i’d like to make the inner reality of royalty a reality by giving myself a crown of news articles and a series of stockholders clutching my coattails of cash.

swaying i see cattails

cattail up

little sausages swaying and waiting to blow away like dust in the wind. i dunno if that is what aaron had in mind with that song.

who cares, but this is kinda pretty? not really. haha. i hate sausage.

nope. no conclusions for this, it feels incomplete. this is not for anyone. i am just recording things because i like to.

why don’t i just give in, have a drink and shake some hands?

5

4

3

2

1

high five. ouch. high fives hurt i’d say. high five rhymes with live. but not with live. bwahah.

i have an audition to be a basketball player in a print ad. i will not get it.

what do i have in the works?

dont read this part

well, maybe i could do math with money. prolynot.

but i am getting into comps and maybe i could program them? or make the programming, on a tv

or on the internet cause tv is going out. like a blogger. oh yeah i blog. but not really. i tumble over myself on tumblr.

but i do like writing. i have tv in my veins, i bet my dad watched tv after conceiving me. and plus there is some money in that. or a movie. and a documentary or 2. but i wanna make classics, art. but everyone does and everyone makes shit instead. so i could be on the screen but then i don’t even care that much. and i could take all this knowledge and cast the big screen. but i don’t fit that fat ass cast. and

i could keep going. but i sure as hell don’t give a shit. so why should you?

honestly, i think that this is all fun. but i wanna do something. i just hate how i am so determined at 3 am, but the morning bends my enthusiasm. maybe it’s because i am face to face with what stood behind a wall of sleep the night before. but not really, i wake up a lot, i have dreams of natural disasters and dying and odd sex.

the more i listen to myself, the more i think i am just a tortured artist tortured by the fact that he isn’t tortured.

but i am starting to like acting class for acting. and i like writing for writing. i wanna do more. and i don’t care if it is for anything.

i am just gonna get practice living outside my own skin reachin in tiers of interaction tearing of my own skin to matter the tears.