My incubus

Why do you scream at me, o heart?
What have I done to disturb you in your quiet slumber.
pound, throb and bleed.
how do you cut half of your limbs off?
with an axe, tooth or emotion?
I lie. I lie some more. And even more.
Fuck That.
I am whatever you say I am.
insert yourself into me.
Thrust deep, and explode inside.
fill me with your anger and hurt.
cry afterwards and say you at least you were just being honest.
cling to my leg as I cross the threshold.
Know this and only this.
Only a house cat would consider residing,
a wild cat, a Lion, will only keep moving.
now choose.
Prey or partner?

Inside

I wish I could have what I really want in life. What I wish I could have most of all in life is terribly hard to find.

What I really want more than anything in life is someone who will hold me while I cry. Someone who will not say everything will be okay to me, who will not attempt to dry my tears. I just can't find this person which should tell me to facilitate it myself. But if that's the case, I don't know if I can do that.

My guitar haunts people because it's me trying to hold myself in comfort.

I think I might have found someone who could be that person but I have no idea if I'm just living out a heavy projection.

I miss my lover yet I feel softness in the new that was missing in the old. What the Fuck is going on?

Dream #1.

It is bright. The sort of bright that occurs when you walk out into the sunlight after leaving a dark house or room. I smell the heat of tar minutely melting on the asphalt; the heat is uncomfortable. The farther I walk, the greater a sense of unease builds. I have been on this road before, many times before yet I recognize nothing. But my feet drag me on and on until I reach a dirty white house. It is a large colonial, with big windows. The lawn and trees are not taken care of, there are leaves and overgrown bushes everywhere. Internally I freak out as soon I see this home. As I walk up the driveway I realize I'm doing my utmost to sneak up into the side/backyard, I have no interest in being recognized and seen. I sneak into the side yard without being seen and breath a sigh of relief. There's a river that runs behind the house, a aesthetic that I don't remember ever existing yet somehow knowing that it exists now. As I walk toward it I realize there is a child playing in the leaves in the backyard, a little girl. As I speak to her I realize that it's the first woman I ever loved but at what point in time we are I have no idea. She's barely 5 yrs old and I think I am either my age now or moderately into my old age. She ask's me:
She:"why'd you leave me all alone?"
Me:"I'm sorry, I don't know. I just couldn't anymore."
She:"But you had promised."
Me:"I know. I shouldn't have promised."

Her childish nonchalance of playing with the leaves and rolling around as she asks these questions disturbs me greatly as I sit at her feet. We sit in silence, listening to the wind in the trees and the hot summer sun baking the earth. I stand up to go and everything fades to black.

8/15/11

There's ten thousand children dying a month in Somalia.

There is a democratic monetary system being utilized through stock market investment yet the shareholders are misguided primates in their fluctuation of investments.

The country of Yemen is almost completely out of water. They will be completely dried up in 3 yrs.

My brain is being mapped at this very moment and I am starting to watch myself chemically react.

Is it better to be a slave with room overhead or a savage being chased through the jungle by a lion?

I have no idea.

8/8/11

Early Sex Ed: Informative or Incentive?

A recent introduction to the already regressive early sex ed in Switzerland teaches 4 yr olds to "massage or rub each other with warm sandbags.."(totalcollapse 2011). This new form of education immediately allocates many questions, the foremost being at what age is it possible to put a teeny peeny into a mini vageenee? Other questions asked included: how large should these sandbags be and what is the optimum temperature to qualify sandbags as "warm" enough? 

In a recent AP interview, Donald Trump gave his input on the growing polemic by firing Switzerland and wagging his finger at the nation. He quickly rescinded this decision when he found out his favorite style of cheese is made there: Swiss.

A statement issued by US president Barrack Obama(mama) while attending a fundraiser for famed 80's singer Cindy Lauper warned of the "growing danger of allowing unorthodox behavior to happen" and he alluded to the possibility of a "tactical defense plan involving placing troops in Switzerland and training the oppressed minority white conservative forces in guerrilla warfare". 

And if 4 yr olds rubbing eye-pillows on each others crotches and nips were not enough to push the limits of sex ed, a recent school crafted Penis and Vagina baked goods to teach the children of the "pleasurable spots". If that doesn't "take the cake", the children were then encouraged to devour the spongy, twinkie-like genitals. A assistant instructor was heavily reprimanded for sexual misconduct when he attempted to frost the GeniblesTM with aerosol whipping cream.




Article:

http://www.thetotalcollapse.com/switzerland-introduces-sex-education-for-4-year-olds/

Can I ever go "Home"?

What does it mean to think? Is it like building a house; base, floor, walls, roof, doors, interior?

How long does it take to let go? What should be the allotted time?

How does it feel to be loved? Is it like flying with a strong wind carrying you higher and higher, until everything you know is small and distant? Should it be something that exists?

Can I build a home for you? For Me? Will you stay in it? Can it even last to stay empty?

What do you say to us running.. Never stopping.. until ourselves are left behind and there is only what is ahead?

And if it were up to you and I, would we plant differently? Even if we could change, why?

Let the music build, let the sun rise, open the doors and windows to your soul, breathe in what is fresh and pure, come inside, let it happen and I shall hold you.. I shall protect and comfort you when everything is wrong.

Fuck it.

Its the music that pierces my brain.
Theres a moment there when the first touch of sound runs a finger on my brain.
The feeling of someone plugging my brain into the largest generator. Ever.
And its that feeling of incoherence, of not knowing what the music is saying.
It is the feeling of feeling.
No longer trying to know what happens tonight.
Instead, let me go into it tonight.