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.

If only, Switzerland

its funny.
when we move.
a step forward, a step to the side.
its like a staircase, but in all directions.
some steps are a little shorter than others.
yet regardless i continually ask what happens.
something needs to happen, something over nothing.
and through and through everything needs to make sense.
but nothing does, and so it's sad.
it seems that the stairs recede.
that they fade away forever.
yet if you think about it.
its better than nothing.
now than never.
here over ever.


"and everything here, from the saltshaker to the doorknob is very pretty..."

Jersey Shore Regular Challenges the Global Yoga community to up their game

Jersey Shore stalwart Nicole"Snooki" polizzi rocked the world of Yoga repeatedly with her acrobatic flexibility and antics. Without any warmups(other than a few vodka tonics and some frantic dancing) Snooki not once but multiple times executed a perfect yoga transition from Urdvha( for those of you who are not familiar with the Sanskrit terminology(Jai mah), Urdvha Danurasana is upward facing bow AKA Wheel pose..) to forward fold by kicking her legs backwards into handstand followed by forward fold!!

Needless to say the response from the community is that of shock and speculation. Comments raised about her ethnicity due to her dark complexion included the conspiracy theories of possible east indian origins, hence the mad yoga skillz. Long time Santa Monica and Venice yoga practitioners expressed these similar disbeliefs as their inability to successfully execute this named transition year after year... Snooki's response to the comments??? " GTL BABY GTL and DTF!!".....

Other jersey shore Mike "the situation" sorrentino responded to the controversy by taking off his over sized sunglasses and saying:" Looks like we got a situation".

Vyas Bishop reporting from LA Times, Los Angeles CA

 

Story #2

Day # 6: Christmas Day, Hanoi, Vietnam.



630am:

My Christmas wish came true, I popped my waking-up-in-the-early-morning cherry in vietnam... And on such an archaic holiday as the big C, what better way to celebrate than by an early morning run through the foggy streets of hanoi and a quick bolt around the local lake, Huan Kiem Lake... Running to the beat of my ipod playing, " The beat goes on" by the venerable artist Madonna, I haphazardly watch the locals perform their morning exercises consisting but not limiting to: Tai Chi, Chi qong, Salsa dancing, slapping and punching various parts of their bodies, short bursts of sprinting, badminton, smelling the air, etc etc..... This, plus the hangover and dirty, sweaty boxers from the night before only furthers my need for speed...



Stopping at a shop on the way back I buy M two gifts, a calendar completely in Vietnamese and a maternal magazine advertising a chubby vietnamese baby covered in clothing made entirely out of cabbage leaves... needless to say, CUTE!(gay)......


I quickly write Merry Christmas on the cover of the magazine and strategically place it on her bed in her separate hostel dorm room; directly under her face when she rolls over..... Needless to say, SHE LOVES IT!(kind of gay)....

130pm: Christmas dinner.

Christmas Dinner Food: Terrible.

But it evens out with the open bar and insane hilarious people surrounding us at our table.

Directly to my left: Mona, from Munich, Germany. Mona is drawing closer and closer to the big 30, months down to the final weeks. She is frightened by this concept, being 3 X 10, yet her consolation is the understanding that a mature woman of 30 and older has the best sex of her life... She is very happy about this and continues to muse and mull over it all night long.

To my right: 18 yr old Greta from New Zealand. She is travelling by herself and is very much involved in "having fun but not out to fuck like a duck".. Over the course of dinner she is surrounded by the two Aussie friends, both 21 yrs of age, and the Irish man Drunkard, who feels unsexy(age unknown)..

Sitting in front of me and to the right across from me: My favorite Irish woman whose name I seem to be unable to remember at all.... She is dressed casual with the exception of a sultry red burlesque feather scarf around her neck..Regardless, she is fantastic, cracking jokes all night, being motherly to M and myself and slamming down beer after beer.. to her right is none other than Richie, who is awesome and has somehow managed to snag the best Christmas hat of the night, complete with white pigtails... Richie is an orphan, has been travelling for the last 2 yrs nonstop and is from London, residing right outside the primarily homosexual city(apparently if your from London you know where this town is, just like in Los Angeles we know that Carmel is where all the gays live...)

Sitting to the left is M: She is wedged between the Irish woman and the "Estonian named Maddis"... Maddis is a lover of tantra, his hotmail account being Tantra_Mantra@hot&*^#%!$+(I had to block out some of the email address to save myself from copyright issues)... He is nonstop drunk, whether it be 6am or 5pm... He is never without a beer in hand and throughout the dinner begins to rub M's leg with his beer-free hand...



After the dinner ends( it not being without success, myself having learned to count to ten in vietnamese, M drawing a badass crayon mandala on the table and the Irish man beginning to less unsexy) we head over to the local Irish Pub-Finnigans... The Aussie boys and I grab a table and a group and settle in for the next who knows how many hours... We pair up and play a game of pool when the table opens only for the aussie guy and I to lose terribly.. we sit outside, smoke some ciggarettes and drink beer while talking of our favorite surfers and the hottest girls at the hostel....

Hours later, delirious to the point of my consuming a mixed drink that can only be described as "gay", we head outside into the brisk air to consumate the night with a game of Vietnamese Hacky Sack with the local youth(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jxTsBFywoAA&feature=related )... Our group of 9, mixed with  6 or 7 locals is much too large to be playing this game, without considering how drunk we all are.... I almost break my perineum diving for the hacky sacky...


Its been a Good Christmas.

Vietnam: A collection of short true stories....

Story #1: The Virrg.


Vietnam, Night #2.

Its a sweaty, humid, bass-beat-throbbing night. Its 10pm and we've just left the room to explore and experience the lochness monster rumored across continents: Nightlife in Vietnam. Wandering the streets we glimpse a goliath in the distance: The Crazy Buffalo. Hours later, deep into beers, hookah and multiple games of pool we are approached by Virgil "The Virrg"... Last name unknown.

He strikes up small talk, pulling a chair to our table. His age is impossible to guess: M guesses 23, I guess 26... Fashion appears to be his forte. Friends rumor him to wear only shirts with cut off sleeves: Plaid, Corduroy, Checkered and Denim materials.... Accessorized by his beloved beret, the bill turned slightly to the left.

Our conversations are stimulating and humorous. When the Crazy buffalo shuts down, we head across the street to the next spot, a tiny, crowded bar that sprawls beach lawnchairs out into the sidewalks and streets of Ho Chi Minh City... Our conversation takes a dive into the realm of the schizophrenic, topics ranging from Virrg's love for animals and his ever intensive studies to become a forest ranger( a lifelong dream)... to the explosion of global media attention towards Australia in the 1980's due to the release of the renowned francise, Crocodile Dundee starring Paul Hogan.... All the while there is a constant battle with  the local vietnamese population peddling cigarettes, lighters and other nightlife paraphernalia. "you like cigarette sir!?" becomes a eternal mantra, repeating over and over again in the mind...


The night ends around 530am, the conversation consummating around the agreement that M must watch and enjoy the crocodile hunter before she is allowed to say anything else... We part ways exchanging the generic: " yes of course we'll hang out tomorrow, no doubt about it."


Unknown to us, we would encounter the Virrg the very next morning...

12-21-2010:

M wakes up hungry, I had already been awake for an hour or so and had consumed an iced "Ca Phe" and a steaming hot bowl of Pho Bo. We leave our hotel and walk to the nearest food cart. Maya begins to eat and in between bites gazes out into the street. She starts laughing and points: " Is that the virrg across the street??". Coincidentally sitting at the bar across the street is none other than the virrg himself, only he has a companion: A vietnamese woman who appears to be consumed by his beret, cut off shirt and australian accent. He waves and crosses the street to speak to us. The conversation involves 3 things:

A- He wants to become facebook friends.
B- He wants me to take a picture of M and himself.
C- He would like my opinion on whether he should use a condom when he takes the vietnamese woman back to his hotel room to:" Service her", as he puts it. I warn him to definitely use protection and to be careful where he puts his mouth, warning him of the multiple strains of the clap, clamidia and syphillus, at which he exclaims loudly:" oh I've had almost all of those multiple times! no biggie."

I think that we shall see him sometime in the future, perhaps in Guatemala, strolling around the humid streets in his beret and cut off shirts... But the last we ever see of the Virrg in Vietnam- He is being fed a glass of orange juice through a straw by the vietnamese woman...