cold and cough 11/05/2008

I don’t want to be a bitch but your acting like a dog in a coexistent world and I’m the only black pearl. Sitting, thinking, breathing and blinking, “why I am I still here?” the beer is calling my name more than the green. Scene is moldy, hold me, a distraction with a physical attraction. My head is vacant, but every day is what we make it. So are you going to let an opportunity go or are you going to take it? Are you flying the plane or are you the copilot? So silent, loss of sex and violence. I’ve lost my sense of ease so leave me alone, please, ‘cause you’ve become a mental constipation. Love could take the nation but we tend to balance our emotion upon our sleeve cuff. Hide the love, no hugs! She is blessed from above but the demons said they told her~ they hold her. Fasaud and similes, not really real. Taught us how to feel in a commercial, showed us what to wear in a poster. Fucking posers! These hosers can’t even look me in the eye and say they’re my hommies relentlessly of my materials, my Cheerios, my Fritos. We are free of those and yet it’s silly flavors that have bound us down. Don’t frown because there’s always a sunny side of the shadows, where we can feed our cancer habits and fuck like rabbits. Can’t hack it, fucking fagot? Whack it and miss you too. Missing tooth, hide the truth behind the alcoholic youth. Baking cookies for something to do, there’s nothing new. The blue berries rot and the trees die. Time is ticking and I wish it would stop. Knuckles pop and nails break, how much shit can we take? Tequila, gin, whiskey and weed. Do not breed idiotically. Literally, we are free, liberty! Spoke sweetly but brutal, a whipping noodle, screaming for more. Ah-knocking at my door are only man whores, but we all live and die alone, so you can sleep by me tonight. In the morn I’ll chug my coffee so God can laugh at me. I wanted to feel love but everything I touch tends to break. They believe touch is real and feelings are fake. I don’t agree but I’ll construe because I understand things with my mind and not my hands. Transcending concepts and pretending inconsistence but I’m addicted. The broccoli of broccolis, I only like the leaves. Comes and leaves like a living disease, I can’t stop the feed. Ate until the belly aches, take what you can, didn’t make or mend. A blessed beast was given, can’t stop the living with a juicy peach trilogy. Neither of us will ever see what we truly mean, SO FUQ’ YET! Antisocial, aggression, fascination. Sexual, frustration, entertainment. Paddy cake, playmate, masturbators. Pirate, private, puppet. Why must it, musk it, do not trust it. Tearing, endearing lies. She tries but no wishing star could break the atmosphere. Soul is pour, set ah-soaring. Free butterfly swinging into the stars, ‘tis not that far to touch respect. Nancy, fairy fagots having fun chasing their own tail. Frustration, anger, obligated by morality. Moon~cycles~recycle, did I stifle? this tribal bitch is going crazy. Not lazy just unmotivated, no star cards just retards. I don’t love you, three times two, what the fuck can we do? Watch, listen and do not learn. Take your turn to be a faker, a baker of illusion, which is why I don’t know if you were sent from the angles or demons. Your love is blinding so I can’t see them. Tasting bitter kisses and (a psychology definition of the minds perception of the bodies’ sensations, I believe starts with an e) exactly what this is. Bliss fizz overflows my mug, now it’s TI:ME for a memory tug. I’ve become deaf, mute, blind and dumb due to this foolishness. Which is why I’m taking vengeance on sorry fucking souls and condemning them to see my wrath, mind fucked=tricky bitch, no math. I’m daring you to try and see the real me, hidden beneath stone and flammable vapor. My whiskey breath you shall savor, feed my weed bed and take a glance into the darkest depths of my free soul and receive silly fragrances of vicious, math less, mind fucked mist full of love; like cotton candy ice-cream, you don’t know why but you know you want more. Life whore, indulgence is a score. “So tell me, what’s your name again?” I can’t stop believing this world is ours for feeling. My friends are homely but they’re my hommies. Mi maw is the only “G” that makes me what pride to be the sum of such equations. Who’s complaining? The seed never falls far from the tree, so it’s you and me that have become the fruit of their labor. I love and am always loved and yet I’m still at home, yet I’m still alone. Words are never set in stone, I’m stoned…because the time and place I puked the waste. Taste the overflowing oils and smell a dominos effect. Recollect under the dancing stars with my guts ah-blunder. Today I laughed like thunder though it was the night before with welts and singed nipples that tickled my mind. Find new ways to smile because your words have begun to pile… like corn poop in a ditch by Alex Haitley. Do not hate me for I am just a tease. Looked me in the eye like, “Please!” I’ve stated before that I love but am not in love. So try and understand this tricky bitch when she says she is thankful for her lonely hommies whom consumed that time and place, temporally filled a cold space. Walks me home and gets me stoned. You know I’ve known you before those mongrels stepped your pride and said, “WTF? Are you alive?” left them strive as you indulged an angel food cake within this Milky Way. These days are all a drunkard dream that seem to spell self defeat. Met my fallacy in wonderland as your tips grazed my hand and awoke a blind man.