the awkward silence.

"Days like this come all the time"
Isn't that what you once said?

Then why is it that I can't find
a single reason to get up out of bed?

Though, I'm feeling good, most times...
I'll be a bad fish, here, once more.

'Cause I'm not feeling so sublime.
Perhaps that's what all the heroin was for.

Seems to me you would have lived my life all wrong.
Just like another sad, old story.
but if I run just a little bit faster than this wind...
I think it might blow me in.

Would you really want to live forever anyway?

Do you think by then
you might find out why you're here?

'Cause I don't mind dying along the way.
It's the only thing that's gonna break me from this fear.

Seems to me you would have lived my life all wrong.
Just like another tragic story.
but if I just run a little bit faster than this wind...
but I think I'm blowing thin.

Put one up to shackle me,
Not clean logic procreation.
I did not invent the wheel,
I was the crooked spoke adjacent.
While the triple Sixers lassos keep angels roped in the basement
I walk the block with a halo and a stick poking your patience.
Y'all catch a 30 second flash visual,
Dirty cooperative net platoon bloom head trip split ridiculous.
Fathom the splicing of first generation,
Fuck up or trickle down anti-hero smack cracking
I paste the game to zero hour completion green splash!
Duke of early retirement pick a dream.
American nightmare hogging the screen.
I'll hold the door open so you can stumble in,
if you'd stop following me around the jungle gym.
Now it's an honor and I spell it with the 'H' I stole from heritage
merit crutch stolen wretched refuse of my teaming resonance.
I promise temperance towards breed with a leaning conscience.
Here the creed acts since responsive but my sports supports the wattage.
And I'm sleeping now, wow, yeah, the settlers laugh...
You won't be laughing when your covered wagons crash...
You won't be laughing when the buzzards drag your brother's flags to rags...
You won't be laughing when your front lawn is spangled with epitaphs...
Dont be laughing!
And I hang my boots to rest when I'm impressed.
So I triple knot them and forgot them.
This origami dream is beautiful,
but man those wings will never leave the ground,
Without a feather and a lottery ticket, now settle down...

Slacker bound emit a tabloid headline with a pulse
Shimmy cross the centerfold, and a dead time engulfed
Diddy crumbs for the better souls with seven deadly stains
To hear the blame to crystal conscience
To results a low life counting on one hand what he's accomplished
Ok, link me to activism chain activate street sweep
Plug deteriorating Xenobit Pendragon
I hock swords cores for the morbid spreading of mad men
Sinking their lincoln-log cabin and Charlie Chaplin waddle
I could zig zag and zig 'em again for the bashed dreams
Sparking in my brick wall windows another thick installment
Of one night in Gotham without the wretched...
Houston we have a problem
Attached to a infested batch of city goblins
Who split holiday freak on a box cut cinema high road bellow
Head rips watch red bricks turn yellow
Sort of similar to most backbones at camp Icarus
Raw feeling crimes congregating at pamper for bickering
Life's not a bitch...
Life is a beautiful woman...
You only call her a bitch because she won't let you get that pussy.
Maybe she didn't feel y'all shared any similar interests,
or maybe you're just an asshole who couldn't sweet talk the princess.
Kiss the speaker wire,
Peter Passivism peggin' threshold,
Stomach full of halo kibbles.
Wings span cast black upon visuals hear the duck hunt ticker tape
Vision and pick apart the pixels
I got a friend of polar nature and it's all peace
When I seek similar stars but can't sit at the same feast
Metal Captain!
This cat is asking if I've seen his little lost passion
I told him: "Yeah, but only when I pedaled past him"

All I ever wanted was to pick apart the day,
put the pieces back together my way

In the house that I live, there is a cat.
Her name is Cole.
She is a black, skiddish, piece of shit-like creature.
She is easily scared by shoes and leaves.
She has a sister named Charisma.
I changed Charisma's name to Bree.
Bree is also black, and has short hair.
So, now, there is Cole and Bree (both meant to be pronounced with a death metalesque growl of the voice).
Bree, born "the runt", plays the role of the mother:
licking and sucking out Cole's ear wax.
Cole sucks on Brees teets until a frothy white discharge is caked on Coles lips.
Bree sucks on her own teets.
Cole shits on the floor next to the box and gets it caked in her ass dred.
It smelled like poop.
So, now, I changed Cole's name to Chunk Butt (Chunk for short).
Early morning, Bree will smack Chunk so hard that it knocks the dust off that pussy.
Chunk makes a squeal like a squeaky toy.
Somebody has got to do it every now and again.

Dude, I totally miss you.
I really fucking miss you.
I'm all alone, all the time.

Dude, I totally miss you.
The things we do together.
Where have you gone?

I totally miss the honesty
and special times
and honestly,
I totally miss the fucked up things you do.

I don't have to tell you thing's are bad.
Everyone knows thing's are bad.
The dollar buys a nickel's worth.
Banks are going bust.
Shopkeepers keep a gun under the counter.
Punks are running wild in the streets.
and there's no one anywhere that seems to know what to do.
and there's no end to it.
We know the air is unfit to breathe.
and our food is unfit to eat.
We sit watching our TV's while some local newscaster tells us today we had 15 homicides, 63 violent crimes...
as if that's the way it's supposed to be.

We know thing's are bad.
Worse than bad.
They're crazy.
It's like everything everywhere is going crazy.
So, we don't go out any more.
We sit in the house.
and slowly the world we are living in is getting smaller.
and all we say is,
"Please, just leave us alone in our living rooms, let me have my toaster, and my TV, and my cereal and I won't say anything... just leave us alone"
Well...
I'm not going to leave you alone.
I want you to get mad.

I don't want you to protest.
I don't want you to write to your congressman because I wouldn't know what to tell you to write.
I don't know what to do about the depression, or the inflation, or the terrorists, or the crime in the street...
All I know is,
First
You've got to get mad.
You've gotta say,
"I'm a human being, Goddamn it.
My life has value."

Thing's seem different, and not in a good way. But maybe it's just me. Seems like most of the time, it is just me. I'm talking perspective. Negative attitudes. The glass is half empty...
What if the glass is actually a cup?

Seems like everyone is trying so hard to keep busy. To live up to expectations. To be the best they can be, or at least better than him. I'm kinda over it. Kinda. I look at everyone else and they want to compete. So much of this "I'm better than you" mentality.
How about I am me and you are you and let's not compare apples to french fries.

This guy is a Lawyer. This girl is so popular. That guy drives a Lexus. That girl is a whore, but she is so cool... Have people completely lost their minds? Whatever happened to integrity and honor? What happened to genuine compassion and caring? Why is the world so fucking cold, numb and desensitized?
I am sick of this spoiled, superficial, status seeking, social climbing, materialistic, intolerant, ignorant popularity contest that this country has become... Hell, maybe the world...

I don't like people. You try to be nice and you come off as deceptive or creepy. There is a big difference between acting nice and being nice. Most people are as dumb as dog shit. Most people are so easily manipulated that it's degrading, myself included. This makes me sad. As much as I hate all of it, I am a part of it. I am a contributing factor. Fueling the fire.
Does this mean I don't like myself?

What is the purpose of life? I used to think it was happiness. God, that is fucking lame. Now that I read it.  Everyone's busy ensuring the safety and security of their own lives. I suppose if happiness stemmed from the happiness of others, then this would be somewhat commendable.
but most people don't really care about other people the way they like to brag they do.

What is truth? We define truth. Therefore we control truth. Yet, truth should be set in stone. Non-negotiable.
Don't believe everything you read.

You waste your entire life waiting for the golden moment:
Not like those who overthrow it and make use of the old components.
Be bold with tact and backflips of showmanship.
Focus on your craft and at last, they will notice it.
Apply all that excitement into a gratifying assignment.
Design it from the inside out.
Redefine what it means to twist and shout.
You're like a kid that's never been kissed...
You just missed my mouth.
You never instantly get it...
but you'll eventually figure it out...
That is if you Try
and exhibit a little bit of effort
and it's alright to inquire "Why?"
when being directed by your elder.
Go ahead and blame the government
for another month of rent.
Or better yet, blame it on Sin,
or 'cause your mother left.
You can't kiss the boo-boo after they shoot you,
did you bump your head?
While in bed, you chose to hit the snooze
and now you've overslept.
Years have passed of fear of the past.
And while I should be laughing last,
compassion attacks and sadly I can't.

Here we go again...
back out through the "In".
Forget about then.
Skip straight to the end.
Have you forgot or not?
I thought I'd begin,
and when you want me to stop
then you can just say "when".
Jumped in, toe stumped, slipped up and now I'm stumblin'...
Funny noone listens when you're piss drunk mumblin'.
Southern Comforts so sweet I can't even stomach it.
and I'm stumped wonderin' how to keep the bugs from comin' in.
I could keep on runnin'...
but come on, wheres the fun in it?
I wanna get humped,
get dumped,
discover Love again...
The whole slice... throw rice, maybe a babysitter...
A cozy life with a trophy wife and home made dinner.
Tongue-tied just done become a tongue twister.
I've shriveled up into a sun-dried blister.
It hurts to know that I can't resist her,
but it hurts even worse since she'd rather be my sister.

So... I've been working on my new CD.
It is about growing up in America.

Then I log on to MySpace and see featured artist, Sage Francis. Sage is an influence of mine as far as hip-hop goes. Turns out he has a new CD coming out on the 8th... Cool? Was cool...

Song 1... Growing Pains... What the FUCK. That's my song...
but he beat me to the punch... so now when mine is done, it's gonna look like I jocked. GREAT.

Then I get to a description of the album...
"In Human the Death Dance, Sage Francis explores imagery, metaphors, the occasional pun, absurdism and pop culture references, while including the touchstones of traditional hip hop storytelling."

So..... uh... uhm... what now?