Hey yall....I dont think Ive posted in here much before....I kind of forgot this forum was here, but i been writin in my blog on here all the time. Theres tons of shit posted there. But i thought maybe I will try postin somethin in here just for fun, to see if anybody read it. So Please tell me if you enjoy these things. People been tellin me i need to put all my words together an make a book or some type of thing. Iunno if its worth it, if its that good or people just easily impressed. So I thought maybe I get some new opinions. Tell me wat you think.....
(posted 2-10-2010)
Speedin over the freeway you see the outline of a city that everybody tries to forget....Most folks will never know the simple struggles that happen here every day. Never taste the breath of salt tears and blood , stunned silence and slammed doors as they will their feet to go faster over the stairs, the tiles, the concrete stoop and out onto the street, glass windowpanes still vibrating from the screams inside. To have that be your every and always life.
Stop...go back...to a place where the every day relations take on a mythical energy under a pink stained sky , polluted by the lights of the living breathing over population that spills out the seams of this inner city dream, sweaty bodies pressed into tiny rooms, table cloth curtains and dry wood floors creaking under the weight of five generations of welfare.
The night time play ground of a unforgivable feen. I stand tall, proud, my silouette a tight straight middle finger pointed at the sky, I have sinned, I have lied, I have pawned my soul out, cent by cent. And I dont repent. "Fuck the world", inked on the brown, caramel, and pale milk skin of a thousand inmates and boys on the corners the world over, is my personal battle cry, and the image of curly cue letters, script against flesh, leaves me fortified. Laugh now, cry later....the secret is to die young, take your last one and fade away...to never make it to later so you never have to pay.
The hollow bombed out shell of a civilization sprawls over the stretch of tangled 'come up the block' and 'go around the corner'. shuttered, boarded up windows are unseeing eyes, the wind whips little wax paper shells around the pavement, useless, discarded, all the meat been pulled out and devoured. The carcass of the city aint nothin but liquor stores, check cashing, high interest pay day loans, stretched over the skeleton of fractured bones, and its all that is left. but we take what we can get. Doorways and hallways, broken elevators and busted locks, sagging front porches and window grates, inside hides sleeping tiny lives, apple of a teenage mama's eyes, just waiting for their futures to get sucked up, stolen from them and dissappear, their destiny is robbed before they ever even know they aint got a chance.
Garbage stacked in alley ways, the hidden corners where the junkies play, with the prize in their eyes as they scatter away. to pull themselves under with a push on the plunger. Outside cold brick walls , stories tall, its always open for bizness, but narc cars wait, lurking with the lights off, the real predators in this concrete jungle. Red lights glow in the dark, nextels bleep and echo down the street and the only sound is my own two feet as i stalk the block . just another faceless , aimless ghost in the night. Everybody got a story, mine aint no less, no more, than yours....We all stay busy with our private wars. As the moon rises over the silk city every life contained in its decayed , frayed structure blends together into one long sad song , a little broke down ditty.
And still I love it, the energy, the electric rush that rockets thru my being, the feeling, that thru the dirt and the grime that Im purer, realer, that my heart is beating seven times stronger, on a different plane than just simply a high, the air cut with adrenaline, I feel so alive....I hate this place , handcuffs eight miles wide, but i never love life more than when Im inside. As the taste rises in my throat , I want to spit it out and swallow it deeper, the warm crash of the chemical reaction hitting my brain, get me strung out on it , jonesin for another hit, dopamine flood. Swallow the feeling, choke on my blood...
night breaks and the wind howls around the corners, thru your bones, gets into your soul and a deep vibration comes up inside , the scream of the city as it comes alive. 8 square miles of dope bags and dimes. measure the size with the tears that we cried, how many hurts we forgot and let die, quicksand blocks and streets paved with lies. The truths we suppressed, thousands of times, I wish you could hear me Im screaming inside....
If the empty air in my throat could make a sound, the sky would be tore in half, the wail of five hundred thousand sirens, the pain of every time my heart dropped and I saw those lights blind my eyes and wanted to sink into the ground and yell WHY! The aggression that bubbles up from inside my stomach and puts a red veil over my eyes, chokes me with hot tears and enough rage to tear your face from your skull, rip your heart from your flesh and fling my self against the pavement and DIE...The reality that hits like a blow to the solar plexus, knock the wind out til you can only stare wide eyed and furious that you did it again, the understanding as every bone in my body gives up at once and I just want to fall....the sound of sheer emptyness, of nothing at all.
If you could hear me, you would hear the fierce , crazed animal roar, as one more time I stick the needle in, blinded by hate, and draw blood, again and again, a flood at the crook of my arm and i just let it drip, and flow, and snake down my skin , I need this to feel real.
If you could hear me, you could hear the lakes, rivers, oceans of tears, of mothers who just want to believe, who been prayin since the day they noticed blood on baby's sleeve. the sorrow of losing themselves while they grieve for their seed. The roar of an army of merciless screams of women whose lifes turned out far from their dreams....
If you could only hear me, maybe you could see. That its bigger than that, its bigger than me. Its every dissapointment I ever felt in my life, its everything i ever seen that made me want to cry, and fall down, bury it deep inside my self and wish i never been alive, its every hurt, every loss, everything that ever made me feel at all, and its me , its my life, and its all wrapped up inside this little brick of wax paper bags, this map of purple bruises and red bumps on my skin, and i boiled it down into one and I push it deep in.
And it aint just me, its the caged beast inside every feen, scratching, furious, tearing at the wall of rib cage and flesh, scrambling, frantic, spinning , straight crazy with claustrophobia, and the fear elevates to blood lust, rage, as we prepare to hammer one more nail into our coffin, its the voice that begs us to stop or just to TRY, and we ignore it, and change it, just call it butterflies inside, who dont get excited before they step on the ride?
You could hear the guttural, broken sound of our hearts last protest, stuck there in the chest, in the belly, trapped and broken and pumping with the blood of a dying mans last stand, that one last gasp, the brokenness that is far beyond able to get fixed, it pulses with the urgent need to be free, and its caught there , somewhere, down in the middle of me...and as we load up the pipe, the cooker, the set, it knows that it lost and gives into regret. with one final howl it lets go and breaks down. the last thing that remains is just you and that sound. And the scream of that creature, that struggle , that fight, is all that is left of our old self and life....
If you could hear me, you could taste the hellish symphony of the sounds of hate and shame, the private, burning absolute rage that eats up my self worth and reduce me to ashes. the force that drives me to kill myself 40 units at a time. The pure lust of the rush as it eats me alive.
I wish you could hear me, But Ill never cry, not as long as Im under this spell...Ill survive. As I fall away piece by piece, in my personal hell, not a sound or a tear will allow you to tell... maybe if you could look deeper, you could read between the lines....The only way youd ever know is the pain in my eyes...
(posted 2-10-2010)
Speedin over the freeway you see the outline of a city that everybody tries to forget....Most folks will never know the simple struggles that happen here every day. Never taste the breath of salt tears and blood , stunned silence and slammed doors as they will their feet to go faster over the stairs, the tiles, the concrete stoop and out onto the street, glass windowpanes still vibrating from the screams inside. To have that be your every and always life.
Stop...go back...to a place where the every day relations take on a mythical energy under a pink stained sky , polluted by the lights of the living breathing over population that spills out the seams of this inner city dream, sweaty bodies pressed into tiny rooms, table cloth curtains and dry wood floors creaking under the weight of five generations of welfare.
The night time play ground of a unforgivable feen. I stand tall, proud, my silouette a tight straight middle finger pointed at the sky, I have sinned, I have lied, I have pawned my soul out, cent by cent. And I dont repent. "Fuck the world", inked on the brown, caramel, and pale milk skin of a thousand inmates and boys on the corners the world over, is my personal battle cry, and the image of curly cue letters, script against flesh, leaves me fortified. Laugh now, cry later....the secret is to die young, take your last one and fade away...to never make it to later so you never have to pay.
The hollow bombed out shell of a civilization sprawls over the stretch of tangled 'come up the block' and 'go around the corner'. shuttered, boarded up windows are unseeing eyes, the wind whips little wax paper shells around the pavement, useless, discarded, all the meat been pulled out and devoured. The carcass of the city aint nothin but liquor stores, check cashing, high interest pay day loans, stretched over the skeleton of fractured bones, and its all that is left. but we take what we can get. Doorways and hallways, broken elevators and busted locks, sagging front porches and window grates, inside hides sleeping tiny lives, apple of a teenage mama's eyes, just waiting for their futures to get sucked up, stolen from them and dissappear, their destiny is robbed before they ever even know they aint got a chance.
Garbage stacked in alley ways, the hidden corners where the junkies play, with the prize in their eyes as they scatter away. to pull themselves under with a push on the plunger. Outside cold brick walls , stories tall, its always open for bizness, but narc cars wait, lurking with the lights off, the real predators in this concrete jungle. Red lights glow in the dark, nextels bleep and echo down the street and the only sound is my own two feet as i stalk the block . just another faceless , aimless ghost in the night. Everybody got a story, mine aint no less, no more, than yours....We all stay busy with our private wars. As the moon rises over the silk city every life contained in its decayed , frayed structure blends together into one long sad song , a little broke down ditty.
And still I love it, the energy, the electric rush that rockets thru my being, the feeling, that thru the dirt and the grime that Im purer, realer, that my heart is beating seven times stronger, on a different plane than just simply a high, the air cut with adrenaline, I feel so alive....I hate this place , handcuffs eight miles wide, but i never love life more than when Im inside. As the taste rises in my throat , I want to spit it out and swallow it deeper, the warm crash of the chemical reaction hitting my brain, get me strung out on it , jonesin for another hit, dopamine flood. Swallow the feeling, choke on my blood...
night breaks and the wind howls around the corners, thru your bones, gets into your soul and a deep vibration comes up inside , the scream of the city as it comes alive. 8 square miles of dope bags and dimes. measure the size with the tears that we cried, how many hurts we forgot and let die, quicksand blocks and streets paved with lies. The truths we suppressed, thousands of times, I wish you could hear me Im screaming inside....
If the empty air in my throat could make a sound, the sky would be tore in half, the wail of five hundred thousand sirens, the pain of every time my heart dropped and I saw those lights blind my eyes and wanted to sink into the ground and yell WHY! The aggression that bubbles up from inside my stomach and puts a red veil over my eyes, chokes me with hot tears and enough rage to tear your face from your skull, rip your heart from your flesh and fling my self against the pavement and DIE...The reality that hits like a blow to the solar plexus, knock the wind out til you can only stare wide eyed and furious that you did it again, the understanding as every bone in my body gives up at once and I just want to fall....the sound of sheer emptyness, of nothing at all.
If you could hear me, you would hear the fierce , crazed animal roar, as one more time I stick the needle in, blinded by hate, and draw blood, again and again, a flood at the crook of my arm and i just let it drip, and flow, and snake down my skin , I need this to feel real.
If you could hear me, you could hear the lakes, rivers, oceans of tears, of mothers who just want to believe, who been prayin since the day they noticed blood on baby's sleeve. the sorrow of losing themselves while they grieve for their seed. The roar of an army of merciless screams of women whose lifes turned out far from their dreams....
If you could only hear me, maybe you could see. That its bigger than that, its bigger than me. Its every dissapointment I ever felt in my life, its everything i ever seen that made me want to cry, and fall down, bury it deep inside my self and wish i never been alive, its every hurt, every loss, everything that ever made me feel at all, and its me , its my life, and its all wrapped up inside this little brick of wax paper bags, this map of purple bruises and red bumps on my skin, and i boiled it down into one and I push it deep in.
And it aint just me, its the caged beast inside every feen, scratching, furious, tearing at the wall of rib cage and flesh, scrambling, frantic, spinning , straight crazy with claustrophobia, and the fear elevates to blood lust, rage, as we prepare to hammer one more nail into our coffin, its the voice that begs us to stop or just to TRY, and we ignore it, and change it, just call it butterflies inside, who dont get excited before they step on the ride?
You could hear the guttural, broken sound of our hearts last protest, stuck there in the chest, in the belly, trapped and broken and pumping with the blood of a dying mans last stand, that one last gasp, the brokenness that is far beyond able to get fixed, it pulses with the urgent need to be free, and its caught there , somewhere, down in the middle of me...and as we load up the pipe, the cooker, the set, it knows that it lost and gives into regret. with one final howl it lets go and breaks down. the last thing that remains is just you and that sound. And the scream of that creature, that struggle , that fight, is all that is left of our old self and life....
If you could hear me, you could taste the hellish symphony of the sounds of hate and shame, the private, burning absolute rage that eats up my self worth and reduce me to ashes. the force that drives me to kill myself 40 units at a time. The pure lust of the rush as it eats me alive.
I wish you could hear me, But Ill never cry, not as long as Im under this spell...Ill survive. As I fall away piece by piece, in my personal hell, not a sound or a tear will allow you to tell... maybe if you could look deeper, you could read between the lines....The only way youd ever know is the pain in my eyes...
![crazynate:]](/community/data/avatars/m/137/137514.jpg?1554214575){kind=avatar}
