TV is raging war of marriage.
High voices,
awfully pitched.
They hiss,
and moan
and complain
And never say
Let’s do nothing at all
We’re just fine the way we are
Which we are not
but that’s the maker’s fault
not mine
So yeah,
I’ve got that awful long road ahead
And all alone, at that too
But I could not care less
My path is my path
My blood boils
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hookers and heroin. Shit and shift. Read and write. Raddle and riddle. Eloquent, cigarettes. Never a heart, always a muscle. Bitter mensch;. Heavy language. Hugh and leather. Prone to depressed parents. He will die. They always do. I will elope with myself. No one else. No one else knows. I have a picture of the pain. Always have. An ocean of torture. A vast landscape of human toils. A ready set of rules. A new hospital bed, a new cell. A new way of making life miserable. Many thoughts on how I should, never how I achieved the dreams. That will always be a far away rock star. Third from the left, carry straight towards my finger;
Don’t be crazy. Read all this. If you do, you already love me.
If you don’t, just wasted some more time, haven’t you? I don’t care. I wasn’t supposed to survive the suicidal lifestyle. But I did. So now I can annoy others. But I don’t try. I’m not supposed to selfdestruct. I just knew how.
Almost all of the truths can be lies, regarding the words used, the underlying meanings, and the motives and a little bit of context. I don’t engage in discussions, I don’t like powerplay. I don’t hate human beings, just the context. I should have been born thousands of years ago. Then I would have been killed, as I deserve.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It’s always ugly.
There will always be pain.
The only relief the end brings,
is the relief from pain,
which ironically
will hurt most of all things.
Daily meditations
on horrible slavery of life
and inevitable death
are my own dedications
of crazed passion for enlightment.
Desire and attachment
will be there,
lurking,
stalking you
Calling you by your name.
You should shrug it off
and with a secret sigh
walk away
knowing
you are going to die.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
OI I need a vacation.
We are north people.
We go forwards.
We do not go backwards.
And so forth.
Four sides to one chip
The blocked road skimps on leaves
Hear no blindness.
Have fear.
Have sympathy for all things evil.
Death serves its’ purpose too.
It never fails
and always succeeds,
Often sooner than you think.
You won’t expect it,
and it’s always expected.
It’s not rational,
It’s just there.
Do I have a year left?
Ten?
A hundred?
I wouldn’t mind a thousand,
provided there’s less pain
than the dying usually have.
Invent a new painkiller,
find a cure for cancer,
I don’t care,
Just do something,
before it’s too late
Don’t wimp out,
And don’t leave.
Don’t leave me out in the wind,
it’s cold,
always so cold?
And never a word of gratitude
for this life I’m living.
For that I am sorry.
Very sorry indeed.
I’m getting sleepy now,
but I still feel good.
I’m ...
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
High voices,
awfully pitched.
They hiss,
and moan
and complain
And never say
Let’s do nothing at all
We’re just fine the way we are
Which we are not
but that’s the maker’s fault
not mine
So yeah,
I’ve got that awful long road ahead
And all alone, at that too
But I could not care less
My path is my path
My blood boils
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hookers and heroin. Shit and shift. Read and write. Raddle and riddle. Eloquent, cigarettes. Never a heart, always a muscle. Bitter mensch;. Heavy language. Hugh and leather. Prone to depressed parents. He will die. They always do. I will elope with myself. No one else. No one else knows. I have a picture of the pain. Always have. An ocean of torture. A vast landscape of human toils. A ready set of rules. A new hospital bed, a new cell. A new way of making life miserable. Many thoughts on how I should, never how I achieved the dreams. That will always be a far away rock star. Third from the left, carry straight towards my finger;
Don’t be crazy. Read all this. If you do, you already love me.
If you don’t, just wasted some more time, haven’t you? I don’t care. I wasn’t supposed to survive the suicidal lifestyle. But I did. So now I can annoy others. But I don’t try. I’m not supposed to selfdestruct. I just knew how.
Almost all of the truths can be lies, regarding the words used, the underlying meanings, and the motives and a little bit of context. I don’t engage in discussions, I don’t like powerplay. I don’t hate human beings, just the context. I should have been born thousands of years ago. Then I would have been killed, as I deserve.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It’s always ugly.
There will always be pain.
The only relief the end brings,
is the relief from pain,
which ironically
will hurt most of all things.
Daily meditations
on horrible slavery of life
and inevitable death
are my own dedications
of crazed passion for enlightment.
Desire and attachment
will be there,
lurking,
stalking you
Calling you by your name.
You should shrug it off
and with a secret sigh
walk away
knowing
you are going to die.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
OI I need a vacation.
We are north people.
We go forwards.
We do not go backwards.
And so forth.
Four sides to one chip
The blocked road skimps on leaves
Hear no blindness.
Have fear.
Have sympathy for all things evil.
Death serves its’ purpose too.
It never fails
and always succeeds,
Often sooner than you think.
You won’t expect it,
and it’s always expected.
It’s not rational,
It’s just there.
Do I have a year left?
Ten?
A hundred?
I wouldn’t mind a thousand,
provided there’s less pain
than the dying usually have.
Invent a new painkiller,
find a cure for cancer,
I don’t care,
Just do something,
before it’s too late
Don’t wimp out,
And don’t leave.
Don’t leave me out in the wind,
it’s cold,
always so cold?
And never a word of gratitude
for this life I’m living.
For that I am sorry.
Very sorry indeed.
I’m getting sleepy now,
but I still feel good.
I’m ...
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------