Still writing, still breathing. However unwarranted

First poem ive written in over a year, i no longer have inhibition or woe. Great or intolerable, give a shit less ( Read more... )

Looking at my life i am saddened. Bob would be proud. Why do i never get the break?

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Vibin that leonard cohen, alone as possible. Fine mesh of dust, rust and peat moss at the joints.
Degrade to dirt and renege all possibility. So long, hail and farewell. The dream scape awaits.

Running low

Had a dream. Been gone so long. Just to feel your embrace, you're so treacherous. so what.... so who cares. your wild exploits are shit. but i keep on. degrading, devolving if you will. ha ha ha, what the fuck, ive lvied 1000 lives. im scum and know it, yet i relent. love me then not yet.

What can i say, res ipsa loquitur. Drunk as a skunk no ambition in sight. New materiel no existent. i got lucky

Heh, looks like i've let you fall into the un-amicable, unworkable maelstrom of angst and debaucherous boozing. Jamming classic Cars cuts, melting away front cortex of spongy lobe, i have no regrets, Heineken and pain pills swash procreated joy into jelly of rotting mush at bottom of hermetically sealed box. There's places id thought id never go, ( Read more... )

Life is but a strange illusion