(🎵🎶 a summer storm.. graces all of me.. highway war,songs silent poetry 🎵🎶)
I literally think about that lyric at least three times a year..
During a summer storm…
—
I get this feeling like I want to run.
Not for health,but away..
I want to ditch out on the faces I see every day…
(cept the cat faces)
Yes …those faces I care for deeply..
Man..
Some people really dislike the way I am and I have to interact with these shitty attitudes..
And I don’t actually give a fuck about what they’re mad about… I just have to sit..
And take it..
And I remember somebody had a story about when Mike Tyson was kind of down and out, and he had to make public appearances, rich kids birthday parties, shit like that…
And he said to someone
“I want to punch them…soooo bad….but I can’t “
I don’t know if that anecdote is true.. Like, I don’t know if that ever happened..
But I know that feeling..
Oh lordy do I..
And I isolate, so I won’t have to deal with any of it.
Not only do I not need to be liked.. But I’d rather be alone..
(everybody wants to be liked)
Grrrrrr….
Gr..
Maybe.
Maybe it’s an inherent thing..
But the hatred is real.
And the rage and the disassociation…
(and none of it means anything)
And I get No Peace..
None..
That’s the carrot at the end of the stick ,and I don’t get to fucking have it.
Fuck “success”.
Fuck “balling”..
Time is the only thing that matters and the great majority…the great majority or people’s time…
Has been poisoned..
Poison..
Vampiric Motherfuckers..
Vampiric ass goddamn systems..
Eating you…
Eeeeeeeeating you..
Cancerous.
Infection.
Puss ,boils and rotten flesh..
And it eats you.
And I look around.
And I see daughters clinging to fathers.
And I see sons caring about mothers..
And I see this great ride and all these people with their arms stretching out…
Trying to grab something..
Trying to hold on to anything..
Nay..
I sayeth unto thee…
“thinking about it will ratfuck your mind”
(thinking about it too much)
It’s useful until it isn’t.
And you’re not even able to pinpoint your own fucking misery,, Because everything you consume is poison.
Every breath you take is tainted..
(And they wonder why so many walk around bitter)
Ha!
They wonder why motherfuckers get their hands on some guns and go out with a bang.
Throw their hands up and say FUCK IT.
I’m done with this.
I’m done with you and everything you’re connected to …
(feel better?)
Slightly…
Anger purged..
Slightly…
Exhale..
Ugh…
(on some victim shit..)
On some OBSERVATION shit…
(🎵🎶 can’t help that something’s wrong with every one of youuuu 🎵🎶)-pissant
There it is.
That’s how you make a message resonate.
It’s ugly.
Angular and rigid.
But true..
(depends what you’re looking at)
And I cannot climb out of my own skin..
Can not shed..
dusk 