enough

It's.  Never. Enough.

There's a small,  red demon who claws on my back. 

"Gimme more,  Gimme more!"  What flaws he attracts.

Illusions from the graveyard

It's not real.  None of it.

When the sun rises,  we can see how flowers bloom such bold and vibrant displays that put rainbows to shame.   We can hear birds sing glorious tunes of heaven's joy that make the choruses of angels begin to sweat and shake, fearing impending unemployment.  If I'm  not mistaken, the world's biggest apple pie has been in the oven for about forty minutes, and it's ready to come out, sending waves of sweet cinnamon through the air!

But night falls,  and we see the truth.

There are no flowers, only failure and forgotten dreams.  There are no birds, only incompetence and sickness take flight.  

"But what about that pie," you ask?  Your hunger betrayed your senses, and when you opened your mouth to take a bite, everyone you've ever loved hurled you into the snapping, slimy jaws of painful regret. All of your choices in your life have been the wrong ones.  You have no control, and you can't exactly pinpoint the precise moment the world turned to shit.

This isn't real.   This isn't real.

Why bother...

We're living in the Twitter-verse, where clowns and fools have become famous, and somehow through a strange twist of fate, are politicians. They hold no talent and are only equipped with reckless bravado, like the kid who's proud to throw a bottle of Smirnoff to put out a flame. The buffoons and jokers will say anything, and do anything, to press buttons for fake likes because their insecurity of being insignificant paralyzes them. Maybe it's daddy-issues, maybe the air in Mom's basement is finally getting to them, maybe it's simply easier and requires little mental capacity to regurgitate hate, but there's no point in arguing with clowns and fools. Why give this knucklehead any attention? Why let this fool consume another second of your time?

There's no convincing stupidity; it'd be stupid to try.

Liars and Thieves

What's worse: to be a liar or to be a thief?

A liar tells stories because he believes the audience is dumb.  A liar steals your integrity and innocence in humanity

A thief steals because he wants what he lacks. A thief steals your property and confidence in security.

Respect and trust are easy to lose and tough to return.

It's easy to throw a thief in jail, but it's tiresome to imprison a liar.  Then again, is jail ever the answer for rehabilitation?  Nowadays, not so much, when capitalism...oh, here we go...sows the seeds of its own destruction.  In 2018, we have a private industry, owned by corporations, whom use prisoners as a cheaper form of labor.  Who will criticize when criminals are working to pay their debts to society?

Personally, the facts remain within, I have a bonafide problem with any person who lies to me and steals my money.  I stand in arms with my brothers and sisters behind bars who grind their knuckles into the ground for pennies because some bigwig wants to get rich crushing spines of labor.

I'm not exactly a democratic socialist, but more of a labor unionist, and we need to stifle speech and actions of thieves who lie to us so they can get rich.

Capitalism is out of control.

Herb and Sauce

Herb and sauce are all I need...
Feeling lost, I just won't heed.

But herein lies the problem at hand.
Need or want? Issues I misunderstand.

Am I drunk or a liar caught all up in denial;
in a funk, or just floating by passing the while,

free of stress...what lies in disguise;
an app'tite for open eyes?

Best I know, is how to grow, and
how to grow is what I'll show.

Woke

An agenda by men will never be of peace.

Nothing

A thought ran through my mind, arms waving frantically through the darkest, cloudless night with neon glow sticks rainbowing rampantly, to leave this post entitled Nothing blank, and temptation has been averted.

Maybe writing something that says nothing and is devoid of point, rhyme and reason is the true goal.  Otters are still cute.

Aware

I am suddenly aware...

America is obsessed with image, like having our shit together even when this dinghy is on fire and actively sinking.

Glasses are off...uh oh, he means business...

Annie and I recently saw this movie, "I, Tonya," the one about Tonya Harding, the Olympic skater who got wrapped up in scandal after being somewhat involved in Nancy Kerrigan's ass...or knee, being beaten down.  There were a few lessons I learned from that movie.  First, choose your friends wisely.  Not everyone you meet in life ought to be there for you at the end.    You need true, golden souls whom are only out to build you up, not bring you down.

Thank God, I found that in Hiro, Jonny, and Al.

SPOILER ALERT, go watch that fucking movie, it's fucking great...my official movie review to my legions of followers.

Second lesson I learned from that movie, it takes more work to build an image.  True heartbreak of the film was when the Olympic National Figure Skating Committee told Nancy...no, Tonya.  They told Tonya, since she was quintessential eating-rabbits, making fur-coats-out-of-that-shit white-trash, that she didn't represent the image that the NFSC was looking for, even though Tonya Harding was talented as fuck, the only woman to EVER  land a triple axel in competition.  Fucking bullshit.  NFSC wanted some angelic, cutes motherfucker, but fuck that shit. Talent is talent, motherfuckers.  I still can't believe, but I'm not surprised, by that fuckery.  Complete.  Fucking. Bullshit...that she didn't win a motherfucking thing.

Since when the fuck did I become such a pro on women's figure skating?  Since right fucking now, mother fucker.

OK.  Happy dance.  Happy dance.

Yes, after re-reading the title of this post, I am suddenly aware....of what time it is...11:53pm, Good God, let me join my wife.

Confused

I don't know what's going on, yet I suspect the culprit rests above.  My mind is playing tricks on me.  Is it the anticipation of love's arrival what's making me feel so overwhelmed?  I don't know why I feel as if I'm in pain when everything is fine.  Could I be going through social withdrawal?  I come home, exhausted, and I look at my supportive wife who will do anything for me, and I feel so guilty for not being able to explain to her what's going on.

Will I be a fit papa?  How am I going to bring a person into the world when I haven't sorted out my own shit, let alone everyone else's?  Is this a panic attack?  Life is good, what the fuck do I have to panic about?

This commute is unpleasant.  I really think it's that.  I can't bear to be so far from my family and I've even questioned, on what's certainly a daily basis, my decisions.  Fuck, man, I've got to remain positive.

Do my happy dance, do my happy dance, do my happy dance...repeat.

Ghosts and Gremlins

Farewell all you ghosts who haunt my dreams.  

The echoes of your cries won't stir me at night.

You will not stop me.  

You will not break me.  

You no longer are a concern of mine.  

Be gone all you gremlins who clog the gears of my machine.

Your tinkering will fail to derail what works just fine.

You will not sway me.  

You will not shake me.  

You no longer are a concern of mine.  

Viral

Album: Dirt (1992)
Artist: Alice in Chains
Songs: "Them Bones," "Dam That River," "Rain When I Die"

written on 10-26-2017

I'm feeling pretty lousy,
like a cat without a mousy,
unafraid, but I'm pondering,
what's gonna happen next?

I'm sorry for the attention,
that you've suddenly been getting,
because of me and the tree that
I stopped to admire.

That fall day, my back was hurting,
and I thought, to ease the burden
by going up and lying flat
to soothe the pain away.

I meant no harm to you nor they
who were supervising that day.
If I knew then what I know now,
I would have stayed inside

To deal with the pain that I disguise
with smiles and jokes, but I realize
to be honest with you, only
helps me out of this mess.

Don't write me up - Oh, please!  Oh, please!
I'm too proud to be on my knees
for each day and each step, they grow
old, wrinkly, creaky, and tired.

Once again, I seem distracted
so I'll return to what the fact is
that this is the first and the last time
that I will go viral.