The summer that stood. still.

lost in an evolution of self. sometimes it feels like ive done nothing so far but be. i exist for the sake of existence. and nothing else. im just a blob of blasphemous action and untapped potential.. sleeping soundly on a hell-bound greyhound. blah blah. ask for a third charm chance. the spare key was lost beneath a bluestone. life is liquid, smokescreens, and headphonesssss. fuck a phobia. this is the summer of sunday seances tallied on top of a nightshifted image. and that is exactly all for today. thank you very much.

if there's love...

if there's love... it must be three o'clock in the morning. because afternoon moods dismantle anniversary fevers sweating beneath apocalyptic ambitions. granted, the human mind is plainly limited in this contrived society of unbridled delusion. under the influence of institutionalized violence, finance, and dynasty. but worst case scenario...i wake up in a coma. socially awkward. walking towards infinity. the almighty trinity of instantly limitless faction. the fact is falsely fiction. this paragraph is in fact half assed blasphemy. and karma is impacting reaction to the most lucratively grisly degree. feeeed me.

please...

ok so i feel like doom. what exactly do you say at this time of day? besides goodbye, i guess. welcome to my world girlie. they say bartenders get mucho booty, but best believe i mix many more drinks than sensual juices. everyday is a new life to the wise man. perhaps that's exactly why i am twenty-one and a half years of age. still living this perfectly virgin existence. but every time i blink i dream and like every other manhattan bound commuter i bleed. freely. easily. and piece by piece i am indeed reaching combustion. which is exactly my fateful path.

that's why i laugh. 80's baby. 90's child. two-thousand something scumbag. i miss stick stickly, ninja turtles, and erckle. i think i got stung by a bee in my sleep. believe me. i breathe easy. live leisurely. and dock drama. leave it to lincoln. when one basement apartment is boxed up a block dies. for me, december is a long way off, but until then i'll ponder my portions and begin planning how the fuck i will afford life. but for now, i'm happy drying my socks on the cable box.

it's like that

indebted forever to doubleshots.. how else would i get through my day awake?? rather i would sleepwalk soundly.. simply getting by, if even. the owner is a racist fuck dickhead piece of shit. but i walked with 266 dollars cash yesterday so i'll be biting my lip at least for a bit longer.. the rent is soon due.

the illest look can say more than verbiage ever could possibly conjure. hate is a powerful pistol. strapped in the stomach of whitebread unreality television living. it's a damn shame that it's come to this. or perhaps it in fact never wasn't where it's actually at now. love some, the others can eat the pieces of poison supremacy leaking from blistering lips. i will love them for that at least. it's assholes like that who keep life relative.

aderol, alcohol, and rice crispy treats= raw synthetic emotion at 6 o'clock in the morning (the night owl's happy hour). welcome to the life of an individual immersed in amens, achoos, and god blessed sentences. I'm sick to my lungs. i breathe deeply and it turns out the vibe is polluted. Crushing my creative freedom. but that's why im in love with my headphones. i drown out noise with noise homie. pick your poison.

the truth of the matter is, i dont know how to slow down. i woke up on this friday afternoon foggy as fuck. birds chirping, trucks burping, children cursing, and bicycle bells jingling. everything may be bigger in texas, but everything is louder in brooklyn. i guess big things come in small packages.

forget the focus, i'm going to chew on the lyrics of a homegrown inspiration. isn't. it. bliss? her lips were like like like like like like like like like like that.

yea. it's like that.

peace. easy.

what is clogging my cranium today?? well, my coffee is cold on purpose and my middle finger tastes like folklore. my headphones look like hubcaps and my stack of dollar bills jingle like nickels. dime me. please. my glasses seem to be smudged, but as it turns out I'm not wearing my glasses today. what's smudged is clearly my vision of that, this, and the other. what's on tap this evening?? sunshine and sexy semantics. sarcastic spasms. blah blah blah. yada yada yada.

welcome back beautiful. may your tip bucket forever be full of guaranteed pension. dental coverage, workers comp, and paid personal days. i can't make it into work today because i have to trim my fingernails and fall asleep on my rooftop. underneath city stars minimal.. upon my awakening i will ponder monumental affliction.

i have to wear all black and shave daily. it fucks with my image to be honest. My mumblings are way too bubbly and my cheeks are too cheeky. but if this radical mindset manages to outlast the indulgence of independently endless searches towards sanctity then perhaps i've underestimated the power of the supreme. in fact, i am at peace. i guess i just enjoy living messy.

god. bless.

Word. Is. Birthed.

this isss exactlyyy whererere i was tonightttt. deeeeep beneeeath an eeeveeennninnngg. seeemmminnngggllyyy.

"We are here on earth to fart around. Don't let anyone tell you any different." kurt vonnegut.

word. is. birthed.

soundtrack . . .

i would call it an uncanny landing. sitting on the stoop of last spring in jamaica, new york on 146th st. i took the LIRR from flatbush avenue. Destination: April, 2007. Roundtrip. $12.50 because its rush hour. thank you very much mister. Something good is going to happen to you today. i cant get the beat out of my head. and i dont want to . i dont waannt to. something good is going to happen to you today. to me? im still waiting. it's 7:45 pm and the daylight is dwindling. I'm still waiting. but then again, i never was very romantic.

it is spring break and i painted a picture today. I painted a picture of what it was, what it is, and what it will be. perhaps. Spring break in brooklyn is playing ball for the first time since september because im old and retired. iced coffee in the morning and presidente on my stoop in the evening. im an old soul and i like to be alone. so fuck you. and i mean that in the best possible way. i look pissed because i am. i think life is ugly. dreams are better. but i love ugly. and everything is more beautiful with a good soundtrack.

if you like what you see you will smile. i laugh alone when i am walking down the street because i am lost inside my head. lost in April 2007. on 146th street in jamaica, new york. on that brick stoop with the red front door and the doorbell that needs to be pushed twice. maybe I'll try knocking. no one is home. or at least not the person i was hoping to find. back into the dollar cab because i forgot my metro card. but the dollar cab costs two. life is funny that way.

so it goes..

so..i swear I'm not completely crazy. I feel like making sense today.

I write for a hunter publication called Plateau Magazine. it features underground music artists throughout new york city. if you havent seen it around campus and it sounds like something you might want to read, look at, contribute to, or cut up for arts and crafts then ask me for a copy because i have a small stack left of the most recent issue.... i recently interviewed a hip-hop/dance/punk group called Ninjasonik for the next issue. check them out at myspace.com/ninjasonik. they are strangely different, somewhat silly, yet incredibly relevant. a killer combination. very cool individuals.

I am a bartender looking for a job. if you know anyone who is hiring please hit me up. i make a mean Alabama Slammer..

my brother emailed me the other day and asked me a great question. he simply asked "what happens when you lose your balance?" a little confused with the question, i said, you fall down... which i thought is a good answer. most people might agree...when you lose your balance, you fall. But in his response he asked me why do people think negatively and assume that when you lose your balance you fall? why cant you regain your balance and remain standing. that blew my mind!! he is a true philosopher and i love it. he asks me shit like this all the time. he is 15.

i literally and randomly bumped into this girl i know on 3rd ave. in manhattan today. i am ridiculously in love with this girl and she knows it. but she is in love with an asshole who used to be a model... so it goes.

Today was a beautiful day. and it seems to be giving way to a pleasant evening. The End.