and then I CAME.

i looked at myself in the dwindling light
reflected by driver side mirror.
i was not good looking in any way
by my own fault.
i was drunk
and who want's a drunk?
no one.
i had a cigarette dangling from my mouth
when smoking is the glossiest thing
now.
my faded black shirt
and cheap "Target" jeans
who would want a chap
who was not well dressed
and drug addicted?
i starred at my phone
and that only depressed me further
i thought of all the women who passed through
and they only had the "3" month gap
after that
they disappointed and disappeared.
i looked at myself
my ramshackle
bookend down-self
living not alone
room full of books
who want's a guy who's full
of intelligence?
i thought about having a girl
having that girl there.
would she let me write
like i do now?
would she let me get drunk
and yell on like i do?
would she look at me like soft play-dough
ready for molding?
would she be comfortable with me
writing about all of our sexual experiences
and lack thereof?
would she be content with my constant struggle
to understand?
fuck i think not!
she would want me to be naive and full of
nothing.
if i was you
i wouldn't want me either
i'm full of disposition
full of discontent
full of despise
for all those dirty pricks
robbing us blind!
i want to say something
to stand up and believe in a life
better than what we were handed
i don't want to be happy to be
"in love"
i want to be happy knowing
that i broke through
i made it on the other side
to destroy all those assholes
taking advantage of us.
call it admirable
call it mundane.
call me stupid
idiotic
and full of shit.
i believe
in it
more than JESUS.
and that in it's own right
coming from believers
might not be wise
i've got enough gumption
to strike
on
the
other
side
of
heathens.

if you can be anything
anything worth some salt
become a original thinker
who's not full of himself
and conceded in any way
if you can be anything
full of guff and swine
become a person with strong motives
that he doesn't need to hid
uh
yup
hide behind.
little lambs at the slaughter
little daughters getting molested
out back
behind the barn
on the race track.

and you've got to stay away from it.
love burns like early fog in dwindling night.
lost a women?
you'll have others
and you'll lose them too.
truth doesn't set anyone free
unless those who seek it.
i watched the hundred dollar man
waste himself away
at the neck of the bottle
peeling labels from cold sweat glass.
you can be anything,
but you choose this
because in the guts and fire
in the deception that life card hand gives you
you're not satisfied with.
if only you were stupid man
and a little bit slow
if only you were wearing what they want you to wear
if you were that "guy"
life would race across your blurred vision
faster than horse galloping with a cold cough
dying at every step.
but you won't.
you won't become self fulfilled,
you won't become dreadful and scornful
you won't become oblivious
and hollow
you're fucked my man
you have an insatiable appetite for destruction and
all things ugly.
the girls won't ever understand you
and plagued you shall remain.
take solace in that
take pride in that
take burning midnight blue-streaked fire in that.
let the rags soak the bile from your mouth
that foams with every morning rage.
life will be prolonged detachment from every human
every deviant
every disaster counts for something.
you've got the upper hand though,
you can see through the bullshit murmurs.
you're okay olde man
you've done well.
keep fighting the good fight.
when you've lost everything
and giving everything to those who don't deserve
anything
validated everyone in their own bullshit
desire
done all the right things
you still won't win.
because you don't want to
win
winning
is for losers
for self important assholes
who want to feel special
you want to lose
to be on the bottom rung
to climb
and climb
for the rest of your life
and holy shit
goddamn
that's admirable
to be
to be
to be
untouchable
by everyone.

oh, oh, oh My

be weary of those who will
consume you
be cautious of those who will
make promises
and never keep them
without knowing and without remorse
they are out to destroy and deceive
and much
and as definitive as they believe
in
themselves.
not to say to close off the inner well
that all those fishing for hope
purity
and downright  nastiness
will
yes.
you guessed it
"dispel"
they can't seem to find focus
integrity
or
that dwindling madness
that stirs you in your sleep
counting sheep
stars
or humanity
won't help your brain from racing.
let those ones in
who deserve to be inside
and lock all the others out
with the crowd
who will crucify you at the first chance.
balance is the word
balance is the key
be what those others
only wish
dream
and maybe don't even fathom
what they
cannot.
sleep fair prince to fight another day
if you're dead in the tracks
across railroad lines
than you didn't belong
here
with
those
goddamn eyes.

she asked me why i was leaving. i said i wanted to. she said that she wouldn't play that game with me, that "don't leave" game. i told her the only game i liked was hangman. she didn't laugh. i leaned against the door and put my hands in jean pockets. she sighed. the ice cream truck rolled by singing it's loud chorus of echoes, her dog began to howl. i examined the craftsmanship of her hardwood floor. everywhere there was nails to snag your sock on, or stub a toe. the dog stopped howling. she said it wasn't working out, this dating thing, she was thrown off by my quiet moods. she wanted me happy and vague. i said nothing. she went on and on, about how hard it was for her to constantly be positive and have a good time around jerks like me. i let her finished, and then asked her if she could give me my safety pin bracelet back. she took them off and threw them at me. i wanted to rebel, but i let her have it. i let her think she won. on the way out the door, she said that i wasn't a good lay anyway, and that maybe i should stick to greasing my palm. i laughed at her, i really let it all out. i laughed at her until she grew angry and slammed the door in my face. i stood there a moment and then knocked again. she threw open the door and i could see the fire burning in her eyes. hell have no wrath like a women scorn. what did i want she asked. i pulled the piece of paper off of the door and handed it to her.

you've been evicted baby. 

i laughed and walked down the hall out into the sunlight.

There's Gonna be a Goddamn Riot in Here

to have that much guts,

to have that kind of endurance and purity

to bait

everyone

into what you've been doing in solitude

will make it the most beautiful being

ever

your laughter will rumble in my brain

until the lights burn out

and the new bulbs

will have burnt out as well

until we're left reading by candle light

like two small rats

nibbling at each other.

to have that kind of humanity

and to have that kind of hate

for everyone

truly is a defiance

of rules and whoever made them.

you bastard.

you bastard.

to Cast the First Stone

i thought about all the things i didn't want. money, greed, a shiny new car, a set of steak knives, more clothes than i could wear in a week or a giant empty house filled with new uncomfortable furniture and an obnoxious amount of things i didn't need. it felt empty to want those things. i don't want to consume, to buy, to spend extravagant amounts of time and money making sure that my coffee table matched the drapes and paint decor. for me all those material things seemed like a desperate attempted at becoming human, while inside, it would still be a giant empty parking lot filled with bums smoking crack and porta potties with walls covered in feces.

i do not want to save the world. 

that's a foolish task.

i'll leave that to the naive.

i wanted to ask questions. to question authority, to question my existence, to question love, hate, anger, apathy and empathy. i watched the people shuffle in and out of the bar, the college students taking shots at the far end seemed like a relatively happy bunch, i moved closer so i could hear their conversation. the girls got up to hit the head. all short blond girls, with soft skin and good smells. jeans and sandals, lots of eyeliner, and high pitched voices. i shot them a smile as they walked by me, they giggled and pointed at my hat. i nodded and swiveled around back towards the bar. they were soft. soft skin, soft eyes, soft hair, soft personalities and soft smiles. soft through and through. i disliked women like that, they had no fire, no passion, they were bad lays and even worse to talk to. mannequins pretending to be human, acting like humans, smiling like humans. i wondered if they cried or felt anything at all. what were they looking for? 

the guys were no better. tall and slender, all wearing baseball caps and shirts representing their college. they were loud and obnoxious, obviously satisfied with life and everything in it. these were guys who were dealt a the good hand in life. they never had to fight for anything, other than each other to prove who was macho enough to drag the drunkest dame home. i felt sorry for them. but they didn't need my sorrow, they were beyond that. i finished my drink and ordered another.

i thanked myself for never becoming like them. satisfied. i was not satisfied, and i will never be. i am prone to self destruction at times, but it's with caution. i enjoy life way to much to end it so soon. whoever or whatever put me on this giant playground wasn't fucking around. i want to know who's in charge, and what's going on over there, over here, and over on the other side of the fence. i don't like cliques. high school was full of self important assholes who rolled in cliques and that only infuriated me even further. i hated people who sat there and accepted everything at face value. there's an underlying reasoning to all of this, and if you've got enough guff to even attempt at working at the problem, then you're half way there. it takes less courage to smile and be content than it does to speak up and voice your problems. i hid nothing from anyone. take it or leave it.

this was not a good way to live though. it's self righteous and arrogant. but something inside compelled me to be this way and i knew it wasn't an original thought, there had been many before me who felt the same, and they'll be many more. i started wishing someone would hit me over the head with a bottle so i could be dumbed down a bit, a little more gullible and naive. i wanted a lobotomy or to be sedated. the liquor helped at times, kept my brain from racing and dancing around inside of my skull. i became more accepting of life and everything in it, the people, the bullshit that was fed to us. i believed that people were honest and heartfelt, that nobody was out to play tricks and discourage me. i knew drinking could not be my crutch, so i left the bottle behind and started thinking of ways to deal with this increasing amount of malarkie that was handed to me. i could only take so much at a time, my tolerance was low. i drank less, but disappeared more. i'd wander out onto the street, or sit on the curb, stand on the balcony or just move my chair over to a place where no one would bother me. but with my luck, they always seemed to follow me wherever i went. occasionally i would meet a person who had an intelligence higher than the liquor proof of a bottle and i'd sit with them. those conversations were always great and made me feel warm inside. i would stop drinking and listen, talk when it was my turn, and the nights would get red hot. my hands would sweat, i would become excited at the smallest comments or hints. i did not feel thirsty during those times. it was like honing a chefs knife. blade against stone.

i was happy to be alone. there were people who i felt very strongly about, but those would pass to, and be replaced with other people. on and on like this, they would come into my bed and leave just as fast.on and on like this.  i always made it a point to let them know i still wanted them around, because that's the right thing to do. 

and that's what it all boiled down to. having a solid set of morals, principals, and opinions you lived by. i would not let them tow my car without a fight. i would not let the city collect money for my parking tickets. i would not pay my creditors and i sure as fuck wouldn't let the asshole get his way. it was an endless fight, but well worth it. becoming another cloudy eyed, dim witted, smiling empty headed person was not rewarding. becoming satisfied with life was like letting someone shit in your cheerios. i'm just wondering how the cheerios were made and who allowed this asshole to shit in them?