The calm

/
world cycle blue
The weight that holds
try to step on through
sickness comes in colds
nothing left to wait
the lines are no more
direction cant be straight
useless is the door
strangers are not strange
familiar more than not
trapped with constant change
alone is what you've got
lonely is not alone
the end is coming near
no more to be shown
chasing even fear
It leaves the under calm
it was always there
David sang in psalm
Now I start to stare


Hectic is withdrawal

/
It takes a lot of sweat
to keep the mind in dream
you lose it when you get
too far from their beam
hectic is withdrawal
when you try to pull away
not what brother saw
it's not a pretty day
friends turn into none
the cost to feel good
a lot turns into one
heading where it should
what's right comes in two
similar is the look
hard is what to do
written is the book
to read you need the light
to light you need the read
for peace you need to fight
for fight you need to feed

I saw I can do it (so I can)

/
I stepped out of myself
rose above and looked down
there was me and everyone else
I was playing the clown
I knew all the rules and tricks
but I thought that was only them
what comes in slowly sticks
and I saw what was within
it was then that I knew
i had to see it to feel
that it was what I could do
I was part of the deal
sometimes you need to see
yourself doing what you knew
to know that is for me
that's what I can do

I'm a winner (Who makes kids cry)

/
Some people might call me a loser because I can't support my family or pay my bills.  I just won a game of dodge ball, against a 7 year old, he cried, when I through the ball really hard and it hit him in the face.  I'm a winner.  Unless you're one of those people who thinks that a person who makes kids cry is a loser.  Some people just don't understand that winning is winning.

I don't have a job because I'm not a pussy. One thing I've learned is a mother of your children doesn't really like you to not have a job. Women look at men without jobs the same way a man looks at a woman with no vagina. That's not a good thing.

I'm from a rough neighborhood, Mission Viejo.  I used to go to the other side of the tracks.  Across marguerite.  It's just really hard to be super street wise in a really nice upper class hood.  I'm street.

Searching for shiver

/
I see it better
Exponentialy getting worse
I write the good letter
but attached is the curse
envisioning great
I live in the middle
it's all just a wait
I've lost at the riddle
touched by the gods
but now they've turned
what once was prods
has left me burned
laughter can heal
but also it kills
a victim to steal
a ride for cheap thrills
clearing the mind
touching the river
when do I find
what makes me shiver?

Waiting

/
It's purgatory, Hells waiting room
The mode is sleep
Lying dormant, waiting the boom
Stillness runs deep
It's the clock, the speed is slow
Can it be right?
Never late, but this show
Has not a light
It's the head, the machine
Not off but not on
In the seat, No one's seen
Steering the pawn
It's more, above and then
quite beyond
Still waiting, for when
The connecting bond
Appear now, let me live
My eyes half awake
Only pain, do you give
For me to partake
I run, that's not my intent
What I'm made of
My worth, not made in cent
Is the love









High noon numbness

/
In this game high are the stakes
I walk like nothing as exterior flakes
From the shoulders of knowing
talk that is more glowing
And the furniture can't hold
What's coming or so I'm told
I hear from the past a soft song
it's sings in the distance what's wrong
will I adhere to the warning?
Do I have just till morning?
The day is to be soon
As I face the high noon
a battle of the soldier
who only grows older
can wisdom finally be held?
Is it a noise that's yelled?
Is there room for the space?
To empty is the race
once again it is full
with a comfortable stool
but approaches is dawn
as I stroll through the lawn
the numbness I ride
till I enter inside

A misdirected rose

/
Rose colored days
water love song
true holds held
endless days long
time spent well
city lights went
country girl's heart
with internal clocks bent
red mostly sad
not like the first
girlfriends friends
feeling I could burst
demensions sang
and my song lasted
nights catch stars
even if fasted
hatred writing ways
and evil devil sparks
cloning to the white
and turning to the parks
children lose your mind
forgetting all that's left
it's real only then
it feels close to theft
she's coming here now
not sure of my direction
keep the hungry fed
and lead with misdirection

Numbing style pace

/
Dreams inhabit the space unknown
bits of the memory, a time I've flown
jets to the surface volumes of light
stars bright the sky in the darkness of night
left are the hanging and stuff that's a drag
a world that's empty to one with no lag
open the eye the one in the middle
lost is the weight and dropped is the riddle
floating in darkness that's blinding my eyes
lifting the senses exposing the ties
free is this dream but only in space
floating outside of my numbing style pace

Wrist blood bitch

/
There's a saying that goes something like this, "Not only does water seep it's own level but sewage seeps it's own level too." I like to use this saying for romantic relationships.  In the beginning you're high, it's a drug.  The "Romantic stage."  Everyone love's that part but it's when the honeymoon's over that you realize you have issues you never knew existed.  You found out about these issues because she brought them to the surface.  She brought them to the surface because the same issues were inside of her.

Have you ever seen a nice girl with some dirt bag guy?  You ask yourself, "What's a sweet girl like her doing with a guy like that?"  I'll tell you what she's doing, she's fucked up.

My wife had an ex boyfriend who slit his wrists after she broke up with him.  He did it the long ways too, not the across the wrist.  Then he wrote bitch in blood on the wall above her bed.

This disturbs me.  I'm just not sure I could ever love her that much, not enough to slit my wrists.

Any direction

/
I love you more each day
Your hugs keep me high
Your thoughts keep me connected with smiles
You seek and I watch with wonder
Your pain makes me cry
I want nothing but coolness for you
I want you to fly
I want you to became the greatness that I see within you
Let's ride
Let's fall into the blue
Seek within and become what you see
Follow this and I shall hold you
I will hold you in any direction

Old music lives quiet

/
The fire is not hot enough for blood
I'm not cutting wrists
I'm not calling the black and whites
I'm not even depressed
should I be scared?
The music is dying
It doesn't do anything for me
You're not supposed to trust anyone who doesn't love music
I guess I shouldn't be trusted
that's a lie
music lives inside me
I make it my life
then I hate my life
then I hate music
but it always comes back
dance
I don't think so
listen
this sounds attainable

Awake is the pull

/
There's something pulling me
It's not a decision but I think I can stop it
I don't
I'm pulled in the direction of blurred hazes
Scenes that come in and out of focus in random sequences
It feels good but I don't remember
The initial feeling fades into the hours of haziness
Why is the pull so strong here and not there?
There's no time for why
Why ruins the fun
It makes me stop and stand in motionless mind numbing misery
But the chase is the best
I think I might die
The situation is strong and the world says no
Different signs feed into my vision
I've seen the signs come at me like this before
Almost as if I'm awake
This is why I like the pull
I'm awake for a second
My senses are sharpened
My mind is quick
My connection is obvious
The searching and emptiness are forgotten


sleep blogging

/
I'm sleep blogging the shit out of this blog right now.  Don't fuck with me in my sleep, especially if I'm blogging.

Let's take the warmth of touch and the human feel of song.  The unreal testing that's set up fake and indeed it goes up the hills.

Walking up hills is also the best part.  It's not all about the carving and 25th st run.  It's about the art and the style.  The lifestyle.

Messages home are strong but leave us wanting.  Hold other powers closer.  Hold the cage.  The warmth of fucked up beauty hits the street harder with the up town quarter loves/  The pennies were stronger than up hill.

Nothing makes sense when you sleep blog.

Scooters are lame

/
Once upon a time there was a boy named Shawnky. He wanted to ride his scooter but his Dad said,"No way Jose, scooter's are lame. You have to ride your skateboard!"

Shawnky started to cry.

His Dad said,"If you want to cry then you can just go to bed! Would you like to go to bed early? Or would you like to ride your skateboard?"

Shawnky said,"Alright, I guess I'll ride my skate board."

Shawnky practiced skateboarding down the hill standing up. At first he would get scared when the board went too fast and he would jump off. But after some practice he could stand up the whole way down the hill and turn at the bottom. Eventually Shawnky could go as fast as the board would take him and he said,"This skateboard doesn't go fast enough!"

Shawnky's Dad said,"If you want I can attach a rocket to the skateboard?"

And Shawnky said,"Yes! Please put a rocket on my skateboard!"

Shawnky's Dad put a high powered rock on the board so now it was a rocketboard. "I hope this board is fast enough for you Shawnky," said his Dad.

Shawnky took the board and said,"I guess I'll give it a try," and he turned the rocket on and began to roll. "So long sucker!" Shawnky exclaimed as he raced past his Dad.

"Watch out for the end of the street!" his Dad yelled.

Shawnky just went faster and faster and faster until the board began to fly. He flew over the fence at the end of the street and above all the houses. Shawnky could see the entire city from hundreds of feet in the air. He saw a park by the ocean and said,"That looks like a good place to land." His board headed for the park and he landed on top of the tree. The tree became his new fort and it was his favorite hideout and his secret club.

He climbed down the tree and walked back home. When he got back to his street his Dad ran up to him and gave him a hug. "I love you Shawnky!" said his Dad.

"I love you too Dad and you're right, scooters are lame."

The end

I'm bush wacking

/
Who am I?
I'm some guy trying to be funny.  Trying to have fun.  Trying to love.  Trying to find my way.

I'm some guy with a crazy brain that's out to get me.  I need to harness that stuff because this brain is like a wild horse.  It might have the ability to win races but it's too fucking wild!

I heard that they have ways to get wild horses to perform.  They put them on drugs and they put blinders on them so they can only see what's in front.

Is that what I should do?  Get on drugs, put some blinders on and just run forward?

I'm not sure.  I like paths.  I like to have a direction.  I seem to be forging my own path and there's a lot of bushes in the way.  Can I get on a path from here?  If I see one I'm jumping over and I'm gonna walk with purpose.  Until then I guess I'll just pick up this blade and keep whacking away.