When did our Breakfast Cereals become cannibal zombies? Every TV commercial for breakfast cereal I see has the cereal pieces eating each other. I’m afraid to pour cereal into a bowl in the morning. The blood bath of the pieces gorging on each other in the circular arena of morning nourishment is not that appearing. What sort of Romanist advertising is this? To sit there with a coffee and watch the “killer bowl” as the pieces chase each other down and devour their fellow essential vitamin pack piece. And then what, I’m supposed to drown them in milk and eat the victors? The Horror…the horror…
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Monday, January 16, 2012
At work
Six o’clock in the dark cold mornings.
Six o’clock in the snow, ice and rain.
Six o’clock a daily foreboding.
Will it be another day to get maimed?
Six o’clock and the time clock screaming.
Six o’clock and the emails fly.
Six o’clock and the phone is ringing.
Another day closer till I die.
Six o’clock in the morn and evenings.
Six o’clock I work right thru.
Six o’clock and the time is singing.
A struggling life is all there is for you.
Six o’clock in the snow, ice and rain.
Six o’clock a daily foreboding.
Will it be another day to get maimed?
Six o’clock and the time clock screaming.
Six o’clock and the emails fly.
Six o’clock and the phone is ringing.
Another day closer till I die.
Six o’clock in the morn and evenings.
Six o’clock I work right thru.
Six o’clock and the time is singing.
A struggling life is all there is for you.
*stolen and modified without permission
Friday, January 6, 2012
Cost of Living
Some days I just have to wonder.
I have come to believe, that in a past life, I was someone very evil. Gangis Khan or maybe Jack the Ripper. Therefore, I am where I am now, paying for my sins…….
I have come to believe, that in a past life, I was someone very evil. Gangis Khan or maybe Jack the Ripper. Therefore, I am where I am now, paying for my sins…….
Friday, December 30, 2011
Metamorphous Awareness
Believe it or not, I used to be a Dreamer. Blue sparkled
eyed world’s your oyster love will conquers all anything you put your mind too
art is life kinda guy. But after being kicked in the teeth so often I became a
FuckingRealist (yes that is actually one word, like PizzaBeer, they are symbiotically
joined), which I sort of enjoyed. I pulled no punches and nothing surprised me.
Then slowly I stepped to the left and became a Sarcastic Skeptic. Needless to say, at that point, I landed up
not dating much and not the most popular person at a party. Then one day a
paradigm seems to shift and Amused Fatalist was the soup-de-jour, which is enjoyable
to a certain “pointed” kind of fun. But, I also feel those days have passed and
more recently I think a Discontented Humorist is a better description. But by
no means is this a circular progression, yet nor is it linear. It’s a more haphazard
type of way and I guess in the overall Darwin-esk evolution it’s probably just
one of those off branch that leads nowhere and slowly ends…..yea, I blew off
work today, so too much time on my hands. Had to burn off some CT or lose it.
Can’t carry over to the new year any of those Corporate blessed “out of office”
hours. My Corporate Mother is not happy, but she designed the matrix, so there
is not much she can say. But this does mean that when I return I will have to extra
diligently strive to touch every one of her bases and bring electrifying
results to once again be amongst her favorites.
Thursday, December 29, 2011
we interupt this...
Ok
As you may have guessed, the holidays are not my thing, I truly do hate them. And I have never been accused of being overtly optimistic. Dark, brooding, skeptical, whinny and fairly disgusted with what is so often labeled humanity, I’m not quite the poster child for heart warm stories. Hell I even gagged at the “Polar Express” (that animation looks so creepy it must be Hell) and find “The Christmas Story” with “Ralphy” a trite pseudo 50 Joan Cleaver nightmare….. So this is going to sound weird coming from me.
I know this lovely lady named Karin Diamond. Our paths had crossed for a very short time, we had been “associates”. I didn’t really know much about her, you could barely call us acquaintances never mind friends. Then in 2009 she was diagnosed with a very nasty cancer. She started a blog and I have been following her plight. She is truly inspirational, putting up a very hard and long lasting battle to beat this devastating thing. Through most all of it, she’s been so upbeat in the face of true terror. Anyway, she has recently posted a Christmas Story that is very heart warming, inspirational, and makes you want to believe. YES, I actually typed those words….it even makes my fingers feel strange.
Go here, Read this…..
Merry Christmas Story.html
…please.
Now, back to our regular scheduled programming……………..
As you may have guessed, the holidays are not my thing, I truly do hate them. And I have never been accused of being overtly optimistic. Dark, brooding, skeptical, whinny and fairly disgusted with what is so often labeled humanity, I’m not quite the poster child for heart warm stories. Hell I even gagged at the “Polar Express” (that animation looks so creepy it must be Hell) and find “The Christmas Story” with “Ralphy” a trite pseudo 50 Joan Cleaver nightmare….. So this is going to sound weird coming from me.
I know this lovely lady named Karin Diamond. Our paths had crossed for a very short time, we had been “associates”. I didn’t really know much about her, you could barely call us acquaintances never mind friends. Then in 2009 she was diagnosed with a very nasty cancer. She started a blog and I have been following her plight. She is truly inspirational, putting up a very hard and long lasting battle to beat this devastating thing. Through most all of it, she’s been so upbeat in the face of true terror. Anyway, she has recently posted a Christmas Story that is very heart warming, inspirational, and makes you want to believe. YES, I actually typed those words….it even makes my fingers feel strange.
Go here, Read this…..
Merry Christmas Story.html
…please.
Now, back to our regular scheduled programming……………..
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
Back to Work
For those of you that have not been “blessed’ with working around the corporate world, there are many aberration of people that inhabit that universe, yet very few Human Beings. As I have alluded to, not all of them are zombies, or whores like me. Indeed, zombies are not even the most hideous creature that slitter or slim down the walkways of these festering marble halls.
He was a small man, in every meaning of the phrase. His physique required him to shop in the youth department of most stores. While his service orientated job position placed him on the lower part of the corporate food chain. Yet still, his services were in somewhat demand. This, in his mind’s eye, elevated his stature to God like control.
“Yes,…we will see what we can do”, he said, with his beady eyes darting back and forth. Never talking or looking directly at you, his cubicle’s chair squeaked as he leaned back in it. He placed his hands behind his head and flexed his biceps in the short sleeved beige rugby shirt he was wearing. “I will be happy to help you with this project. But scheduling may be an issue, maybe you should push through this initiative and I will follow up on the findings. In this way, your name will also be on the project, and you may get some credit for it too”. Well, isn’t this what you’re here to do? ”Yes, yes, my role is quite well defined here, and as I said, I would be happy to help you with this project. It’s just that I have so many other projects lined up that I don’t know when I would be able to address yours”, he retorted. “If you do it, we can complete it in a timelier manner”. Really, well who is your manager, who do you report to? Maybe I can talk to them about your work load and getting you some help. “No, No, that would not be necessary”, he said sitting up straight as his chair squeaked. “As I said, I will be happy to help you. It’s just that I get no support from management. I’m here all by myself and have no one to assist me in scheduling and completing projects. And for some reason, my computer is not running properly. I have talked to the IT people but to no resolve. They don’t even return my calls or emails. But I will do this for you, even with my messed up computer and the carpal tunnel that is affecting my left hand. I can see how important it is to you, so I will even give it a priority. How would three weeks from today be?” Three weeks, am I missing something here? This seems like a fairly straight forward project. How backlogged is your work load? The Senior VP of Marketing seemed to believe, if I understood him correctly, that this could be completed in a week at the longest. “Oh it’s so back logged, those VP just keep dumping projects on me. They don’t care how much work I have to do. But I’m not complaining, mind you. They just don’t understand how hard this job is or that I have to work on more than one project at a time. And did I tell you I have carpal tunnel in my right hand?”, he whined. “But I will get this done for you. How would the beginning of next week be?” That’s fine, I will report this back to the committee.
As I was walking out of his cubicle he picked up his phone. There just outside the cubicle, I was delayed by another corporate aberration known as “The Weekend Sport Reaper”, who had to recite and recap the highlights of Sunday’s football game for me. But before I could leave, I overheard from the cubical a phone conversation with a zombie. “You need to do this project immediately” he said. “The VP of Marketing wants you to do it”. I know, but he wants you. Put those other three projects you are working on for me aside, he needs this before the end of the week. Don’t worry, you can still get to your own work. I am totally overloaded, and I have carpal tunnel. You said that you would help me. Besides, like I said, VP of Marketing wants YOU to do this. When you are done, just deliver it to me, I will pass it on for you.” And as I heard him hang up the phone I could hear his chair squeak.
“Weasel Boy”
He was a small man, in every meaning of the phrase. His physique required him to shop in the youth department of most stores. While his service orientated job position placed him on the lower part of the corporate food chain. Yet still, his services were in somewhat demand. This, in his mind’s eye, elevated his stature to God like control.
“Yes,…we will see what we can do”, he said, with his beady eyes darting back and forth. Never talking or looking directly at you, his cubicle’s chair squeaked as he leaned back in it. He placed his hands behind his head and flexed his biceps in the short sleeved beige rugby shirt he was wearing. “I will be happy to help you with this project. But scheduling may be an issue, maybe you should push through this initiative and I will follow up on the findings. In this way, your name will also be on the project, and you may get some credit for it too”. Well, isn’t this what you’re here to do? ”Yes, yes, my role is quite well defined here, and as I said, I would be happy to help you with this project. It’s just that I have so many other projects lined up that I don’t know when I would be able to address yours”, he retorted. “If you do it, we can complete it in a timelier manner”. Really, well who is your manager, who do you report to? Maybe I can talk to them about your work load and getting you some help. “No, No, that would not be necessary”, he said sitting up straight as his chair squeaked. “As I said, I will be happy to help you. It’s just that I get no support from management. I’m here all by myself and have no one to assist me in scheduling and completing projects. And for some reason, my computer is not running properly. I have talked to the IT people but to no resolve. They don’t even return my calls or emails. But I will do this for you, even with my messed up computer and the carpal tunnel that is affecting my left hand. I can see how important it is to you, so I will even give it a priority. How would three weeks from today be?” Three weeks, am I missing something here? This seems like a fairly straight forward project. How backlogged is your work load? The Senior VP of Marketing seemed to believe, if I understood him correctly, that this could be completed in a week at the longest. “Oh it’s so back logged, those VP just keep dumping projects on me. They don’t care how much work I have to do. But I’m not complaining, mind you. They just don’t understand how hard this job is or that I have to work on more than one project at a time. And did I tell you I have carpal tunnel in my right hand?”, he whined. “But I will get this done for you. How would the beginning of next week be?” That’s fine, I will report this back to the committee.
As I was walking out of his cubicle he picked up his phone. There just outside the cubicle, I was delayed by another corporate aberration known as “The Weekend Sport Reaper”, who had to recite and recap the highlights of Sunday’s football game for me. But before I could leave, I overheard from the cubical a phone conversation with a zombie. “You need to do this project immediately” he said. “The VP of Marketing wants you to do it”. I know, but he wants you. Put those other three projects you are working on for me aside, he needs this before the end of the week. Don’t worry, you can still get to your own work. I am totally overloaded, and I have carpal tunnel. You said that you would help me. Besides, like I said, VP of Marketing wants YOU to do this. When you are done, just deliver it to me, I will pass it on for you.” And as I heard him hang up the phone I could hear his chair squeak.
“Weasel Boy”
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Nightmare before Christmas
As if the Holidays weren’t enough of a nightmare, I had to go and read the news. I don’t know what I was thinking, call it a fatal lack of judgment, or maybe just plain stupidity on my part. I never planned my blogosphere to be a report on current events. But now, I still cannot believe the words that jumped off the screen and embedded themselves into my eye balls. It’s like some bad SciFi movie where we all die at the end.
AP reports that Scientist have created, what many call the most “dangerous virus” ever, by genetically altering Bird Flu. Avian influenza (H5N1) was altered and laboratory bred so that it could spread easily among (Humans) mammals. Scientist “wanted to see what was possible” and by altering the virus’ ability to spread they would better understand and be able to monitor the virus IF it ever mutated to that extent on its own. Present knowledge of the non-altered virus shows that 60% of infected Humans die. Death estimates from the new form of the easier spread virus puts that closer to 70-75% rate of death.
Is it just me or is this INSANITY? Haven’t these Scientist ever seen “12 Monkeys” or any of the "Resident Evil" movies or games, heard anything about the 1918 “Spanish”(H1N1) influenza pandemic, or even read any Zombie literature of today. Didn’t their parents ever tell them that just because you Can do something, doesn’t mean you Should do it? And the US Government funded this in the millions of dollars. Ya think that maybe they could of taken all that money and, I don’t know, maybe coded computer models that could simulate the mutation, instead of actually creating the virus? The 1918 pandemic was one of the deadliest natural human disasters in history. Low estimates put it at 27% of the world’s population was infected with an estimation of 10-20% infected dying. This means that at that time, approximately 6% of the entire global population died. So let’s “MAKE” something 3-4 times deadlier.
I quit.
p.s. If you don't want to do the math, and be conservative and on the low end, stick with the 27% infection rate, and use 60% infection death rate.....appoximately 2 out of every 10 people would die. How many people do you know?
AP reports that Scientist have created, what many call the most “dangerous virus” ever, by genetically altering Bird Flu. Avian influenza (H5N1) was altered and laboratory bred so that it could spread easily among (Humans) mammals. Scientist “wanted to see what was possible” and by altering the virus’ ability to spread they would better understand and be able to monitor the virus IF it ever mutated to that extent on its own. Present knowledge of the non-altered virus shows that 60% of infected Humans die. Death estimates from the new form of the easier spread virus puts that closer to 70-75% rate of death.
Is it just me or is this INSANITY? Haven’t these Scientist ever seen “12 Monkeys” or any of the "Resident Evil" movies or games, heard anything about the 1918 “Spanish”(H1N1) influenza pandemic, or even read any Zombie literature of today. Didn’t their parents ever tell them that just because you Can do something, doesn’t mean you Should do it? And the US Government funded this in the millions of dollars. Ya think that maybe they could of taken all that money and, I don’t know, maybe coded computer models that could simulate the mutation, instead of actually creating the virus? The 1918 pandemic was one of the deadliest natural human disasters in history. Low estimates put it at 27% of the world’s population was infected with an estimation of 10-20% infected dying. This means that at that time, approximately 6% of the entire global population died. So let’s “MAKE” something 3-4 times deadlier.
I quit.
p.s. If you don't want to do the math, and be conservative and on the low end, stick with the 27% infection rate, and use 60% infection death rate.....appoximately 2 out of every 10 people would die. How many people do you know?
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
later on
little words
tiny monosyllabic fragments.
broken from sentences
cast away.
just a suicide
hanging preposition
or was it something.
looking for
large meaning
in small things.
hopelessly
tiny monosyllabic fragments.
broken from sentences
cast away.
just a suicide
hanging preposition
or was it something.
looking for
large meaning
in small things.
hopelessly
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
The Real World
Reality is back, with her demanding ways. Bathing in her
self-centered adolescent fanciful depravity. Why am I so attracted to her, what
Lolita hold does she have on me? I know too many people who seem to pay her
little mind. Yet, I wish that for her I could be the one. Still, I am not even
“bona fide” in her opinion. Work, bills, holidays, car problems. She draws my
attention and cuts to the quip, and I am known for not coloring inside the
lines and running with scissors. Yet what irony, that I follow her to my
doom. I look to her in hope that I can
be whom I dream. Quoting fragments from lost manuscripts to entice her, “Were
we Do what we Want and Want what we Like and Like what we Do”. Hoping to make
it my mantra, yet she just laughs and points out that our relationship is but a
satire. You ever have one of those days where you feel that you are involved in
a tragicomedy? I seem to be having one of those years. “And wouldn’t that
defeat the whole purpose, Mr Krick?”
Friday, November 25, 2011
Thanks
National Pig-Out Day is over. A day of giving, Thanks….really?
Do you believe that, in your turkey induced coma? Let me guess, you made a list,
a list of all the things you SHOULD be thankful for. Or you all held hands
around the table and “thanked” before stuffing your faces with more food then
humanly possible to eat. And so it starts, heralding in the beginning of the consumer
orgy season, known as the holidays. Today is Blackfriday, where people lined up at
midnight to accost retail establishments inorder to spend less money to
purchase things they don’t need, in a frenzy of over gluttonous consumption. Where
they have trampled to death other “consumer ninjas” just to beat them to the
sale items that fulfill their marketed desires. Fuck you, I need that bigger HD
TV! Die, die, die, for I will spend to save. Hell, we built our whole economy on
this concept. How well the Blackfriday sales goes, are a predictor for the holiday
sales. The Holiday sales are a number one indicator of US economic stability. How freakn
stupid is that? What? Not quite the
Thanks you expected? Well sorry, they sold out of that type of thanks. I guess that you just weren’t
there early enough. Now your loved ones will not get the gift that will make
their lives ultimately happy. What a BAD person you are. Obviously you were not paying attention to all
those email extorting how these Blackfriday deals will not last. You are Bad, Bad, Bad. You really don't care about your loved ones, do you? But wait,….
redemption is around the corner,…”CyberMonday” will arrive in the nick of time
to save your butt ……YEA!
Ugg..I feel sick. Must have been too much turkey, or the
stuffing and gravy. Maybe the mashed potatoes, no probably the creamed onions.
Or more likely the squash coupled with the broccoli. I really don’t think it
was the corn and peppers, nor the cranberry sauce. Maybe the holiday sausage or the crab dip,
cheese, pepperoni, crackers, nuts, and fried onion bloom appetizers. I can’t believe
it was the pumpkin pie, apple pie, brownies, ice cream, rum balls, or lemon
squares. And it definitely wasn't all that alcohol.
Look, look there on the TV set, that they now tell me is too small. It's our Coca-Cola designed Santa. A fat old guy
wearing pajamas who gives candy to children that sit on his lap. Isn’t that so
cute, an obese diabetic pedophile. I hate the holidays.
Oh wait, I get it. I put on the wrong glasses this morning.
I put on the bad pair, now I see. Well I gotta go, behind on my holiday
shopping, ya know.
Oh yea, I forgot to mention……..…Thanks.
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Friday, November 11, 2011
i of the beholder
I have seen such beauty, pain, and pleasure
yet contemplate why I am not whole.
Forever searching as leaves blown upon the breeze
only to find my reflection an abomination.
Wondering why I am where I am
and were I am I was.
Beheld by none except my vision
Of dreams that shadows play.
yet contemplate why I am not whole.
Forever searching as leaves blown upon the breeze
only to find my reflection an abomination.
Wondering why I am where I am
and were I am I was.
Beheld by none except my vision
Of dreams that shadows play.
 |
| yes a photo...from the NYC Village halloween Parade More to follow on my Flickr |
Monday, November 7, 2011
Tele-prompter
What a grand time in NYC and yes it was quite decadent. The Halloween Parade, the Jager Girls, the Zombies Hoards. I have a new respect for zombies, some are awful, truly awful, to the point of being very very bad. Yes Zombie Chrissy, props (including the ones you owned) to you. You were quite the un-dead, now are you a follower?
There are new voices in my head. I’m not really sure where they have come from. Different hues, different shades. Maybe they are of forgotten memories from a life less lived, but more probably, I’m possessed. Their noise, though not distracting or annoying has become fairly prevalent. I’m always open to different points for view, yet it has deepened my thoughts. A place that I had believed was already at an un-fathomable depth. There they wish me to speak in tongs and cry to the heavens.
I would like to address the Academy for what it has finally showed as great fuckin judgement in presenting me with this award. Even though they are rotted syphilis braindead troglodytes that couldn’t start a fire to save their lives, I am still amazed that it took them this fucking long to recognize true art. So what I would really like to say is, you can kiss my ass and go fuck yourselves with your goldplated icon of banality.
We here in the (kiss ass) department are committed to providing quality, excellence, and integrity in all aspects of our service. As part of our values , we pledge to “devote ourselves to continuous improvement, professionalism, and innovation in our work.” So that we can supply to you, our clients, the most advanced technology to solve your every need.
I have five questions(?)… well thanks! Sure I will answer them:
1. Fuck you
2. Fuck you
3. Fuck you
4. Fuck you
5. Fuck Me
Now….is there anything else you need to hear me say?
Tele-prompter
There are new voices in my head. I’m not really sure where they have come from. Different hues, different shades. Maybe they are of forgotten memories from a life less lived, but more probably, I’m possessed. Their noise, though not distracting or annoying has become fairly prevalent. I’m always open to different points for view, yet it has deepened my thoughts. A place that I had believed was already at an un-fathomable depth. There they wish me to speak in tongs and cry to the heavens.
I would like to address the Academy for what it has finally showed as great fuckin judgement in presenting me with this award. Even though they are rotted syphilis braindead troglodytes that couldn’t start a fire to save their lives, I am still amazed that it took them this fucking long to recognize true art. So what I would really like to say is, you can kiss my ass and go fuck yourselves with your goldplated icon of banality.
We here in the (kiss ass) department are committed to providing quality, excellence, and integrity in all aspects of our service. As part of our values , we pledge to “devote ourselves to continuous improvement, professionalism, and innovation in our work.” So that we can supply to you, our clients, the most advanced technology to solve your every need.
I have five questions(?)… well thanks! Sure I will answer them:
1. Fuck you
2. Fuck you
3. Fuck you
4. Fuck you
5. Fuck Me
Now….is there anything else you need to hear me say?
Tele-prompter
Friday, October 28, 2011
Wintery Mix
She’s back with her cold embrace and icy stare that sends shivers up one’s spine. Arriving in the evening and dazzling with her white floating sparkles flashing against the black backdrop of the night sky. Moist and wet, desiring to envelop with a blanketing lust……………
…………I should be a Weatherman
…………I should be a Weatherman
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
pieces
I open my mouth and pieces of me fall to the ground. Left behind like some breadcrumb trail to follow home. And I wonder if anything will be left in the end. I don’t think I can take them back, yet though about it. But once they have been released, they seem to take on a life of their own. And the meanings and intentions that they were infused with seem to become convoluted with each passerby that touched upon them.
What do you mean by that?, she said.
I should just stop now.
Too late.
What do you mean by that?, she said.
I should just stop now.
Too late.
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Land of Milk and Honey
In the land of Screub,
past the mountains of Blaizar.
There once lived a sad boy,
who couldn’t go very far.
See his head was full of thinking,
and thinking he certainly could.
But they didn’t like that in Screub,
and you would land in prison, as you should.
So in a small little square cell,
bolted and chained out of sight.
This sad boy couldn’t tell,
whether it was day or night.
And amidst the torture and screams,
this sad boy certainly found.
That he still had plenty of dreams,
even though he was bound.
In the emptiness and solitude,
his imagination did bloom.
Which really pissed off the Screubinities,
And sealed his ultimate doom.
See in Screub only the few rich,
were allowed to have dreams.
All others were there to serve them,
and live and die with little means.
We cannot allow this to continue,
The Screubinities did say.
At first he was just thinking,
but now he’s dreaming, dreaming that way.
So the Screubinities set up a plan,
to get into the sad boys head.
And steal all of his dreams,
even when he was not in bed.
They labeled his thinking,
subversive, ill-conceived and wrong.
Because nobody should be thinking,
not even in ballads or song.
Then they covered his dreams,
With materialist worries and fright.
And stole them away,
In the middle of the night.
The sad boy was left,
With an emptiness in his head.
And after the theft,
wondered why he wasn’t dead.
So if you ever find yourself in Screub,
let it be said.
Be careful if you dream,
it might be off with your head.
You may think that this is a Fairy Tale,
hoping all along it’s not true.
But this is actually today’s life,
And they are really after me and you.
past the mountains of Blaizar.
There once lived a sad boy,
who couldn’t go very far.
See his head was full of thinking,
and thinking he certainly could.
But they didn’t like that in Screub,
and you would land in prison, as you should.
So in a small little square cell,
bolted and chained out of sight.
This sad boy couldn’t tell,
whether it was day or night.
And amidst the torture and screams,
this sad boy certainly found.
That he still had plenty of dreams,
even though he was bound.
In the emptiness and solitude,
his imagination did bloom.
Which really pissed off the Screubinities,
And sealed his ultimate doom.
See in Screub only the few rich,
were allowed to have dreams.
All others were there to serve them,
and live and die with little means.
We cannot allow this to continue,
The Screubinities did say.
At first he was just thinking,
but now he’s dreaming, dreaming that way.
So the Screubinities set up a plan,
to get into the sad boys head.
And steal all of his dreams,
even when he was not in bed.
They labeled his thinking,
subversive, ill-conceived and wrong.
Because nobody should be thinking,
not even in ballads or song.
Then they covered his dreams,
With materialist worries and fright.
And stole them away,
In the middle of the night.
The sad boy was left,
With an emptiness in his head.
And after the theft,
wondered why he wasn’t dead.
So if you ever find yourself in Screub,
let it be said.
Be careful if you dream,
it might be off with your head.
You may think that this is a Fairy Tale,
hoping all along it’s not true.
But this is actually today’s life,
And they are really after me and you.
Monday, October 17, 2011
Rat's Ass
Ok, so that’s that. One year of my life totally wasted. Gone for naught. Not that I haven’t wasted other years. It’s just that this one, for some reason, seems particularly poignant. Anyway back to living, back to dying. Yet, I find myself at a loss of words. It’s not that I have nothing to say, moreover, it’s that my “give a damn” factor is very low. Not a lot of positive energy and an abundant of grey skies. I kinda now understand where that old saying of “don’t give a rat’s ass” came about.
And now the morning’s commute is dark, and so are my thoughts. Thus comes the season of shadows, darkness, fall. One of the only redeeming feature is Halloween. It will once again be a jaunt off to Manhattan to partake in the Village Halloween Parade. Glorious exciting All Hallows Eve, a night of mischief, decadence, and depravity. Those are some of my favorite things.
STOP it, stop it right now…Do Not think you will start putting a sound track behind this. Especially of THAT song from the "Sound of Music". So you can just stop that humming right now! I cannot stand the "Sound of Music". I always imagine that at the beginning, that high crane shot, where Julie Andrew is spinning on the mountain, that I am in a helicopter with a high power scoped rifle. Just as she starts to sing, BANG. Bagged me a nun. Her bloody body sprawled out on the mountain side.End of movie. Ya, I will be rotting in hell. But once again I have gotten off track here, or have I? Ya, ya , ya…a rat’s ass.
And now the morning’s commute is dark, and so are my thoughts. Thus comes the season of shadows, darkness, fall. One of the only redeeming feature is Halloween. It will once again be a jaunt off to Manhattan to partake in the Village Halloween Parade. Glorious exciting All Hallows Eve, a night of mischief, decadence, and depravity. Those are some of my favorite things.
STOP it, stop it right now…Do Not think you will start putting a sound track behind this. Especially of THAT song from the "Sound of Music". So you can just stop that humming right now! I cannot stand the "Sound of Music". I always imagine that at the beginning, that high crane shot, where Julie Andrew is spinning on the mountain, that I am in a helicopter with a high power scoped rifle. Just as she starts to sing, BANG. Bagged me a nun. Her bloody body sprawled out on the mountain side.End of movie. Ya, I will be rotting in hell. But once again I have gotten off track here, or have I? Ya, ya , ya…a rat’s ass.
Monday, October 3, 2011
bullet
It’s official, I’ve been a corporate whore for a full year now. Swallowing everything like a pro, including my pride. Strutting my stuff and working my junk to the moaning pleasure of my clients and my Corporate Mother’s accepting smile. She just approved my performance with glowing reviews, but bitch slapped me with no greater share, no raise. And as she hit me again said “you make me do this, and now you will also pay more for your insurance”. Oh don’t pout, the black eye will go away, you know I love you, you are the best. But it’s all your fault, you just need to recognize your place”, she said, while pulling up her panties. And I smile at the…praise. Sickening. Daily, I can’t stand the person in the mirror. I can tell that I have been exposed to the infection, the zombie virus. I’m beginning to feel….nothing, not caring even as my soul drains away. I awake every morning and hope that someone will put a bullet in my head before it gets too late. But then sometimes I think it already is. This is not where I thought I would be. All that education, all that hard work. Yet I can’t seem to formulate a plan of escape. That’s not like me, inactivity, inertia, apathetic. I’ve always been able to foresee the different paths and choose the right one, or at least one, for me. Yet now all is in a fog, the walls of this maze are very high, and I am dumbfound by the enormous ignorant culture that is attempting to chew me up like fodder. And I should be “grateful to have a job”. Which, don’t get me wrong, I am. Well at least sometimes. But sooner or later, that just becomes a threat. And not only are threats non-inspiring, I don't respond well to them. Yet here I am. I need to get back to my art. I wish I could pick up my camera without feeling ill….shit, what a truly whinny asshole I’ve become. Chalk up another loathsome character flaw. Damn, I’m going to kick the shit out of that person in the mirror, just out of spite. Oh well, all in all, it’s just another rainy Monday. I think it will get sunny later.
Friday, September 9, 2011
I understand and I wish to continue
defamation and condemnation, i have been chained and whipped
spat in the eye, i have been labeled a blasphemer, and sentenced.
beaten down and dragged thru the streets, kicked and punched and bleed
i stand with crippled defiance before my accusers in all their glowing glory
but a martyr i am not.
i have pleaded, i have begged
but like my tears, they fall silently to the ground.
so here i am, behind mask of colors
hoping to preserve what is left.
hoping to be left, hoping to remember, hoping.
but i would not have it any other way
because i am an idiot.
and somehow i think that this matters
that this will get me somewhere.
did i tell you i was an idiot.
yes please, i will take another
drink.
spat in the eye, i have been labeled a blasphemer, and sentenced.
beaten down and dragged thru the streets, kicked and punched and bleed
i stand with crippled defiance before my accusers in all their glowing glory
but a martyr i am not.
i have pleaded, i have begged
but like my tears, they fall silently to the ground.
so here i am, behind mask of colors
hoping to preserve what is left.
hoping to be left, hoping to remember, hoping.
but i would not have it any other way
because i am an idiot.
and somehow i think that this matters
that this will get me somewhere.
did i tell you i was an idiot.
yes please, i will take another
drink.
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