Really Lost the Meaning

Locked in a box that is known as America. It is easy to pick out the problems that each of us faces on a daily biases. Rich or poor we are always finding faults in the way that we live. Continuously we bring these faults on ourselves. The rich blame the poor and the poor blame the rich for each and every one of their problems. It is easy to see how we have gotten here over time. How each and every great nation, country, or whatever bull shit you want to call it has gotten here. Flipped through history and you will find countless tales of the same issues. Immigration, security, taxes, lack of education, etc. These problems we are faced with are not new or even that interesting anymore because they will always be problems. Someone always has to be the one with the short stick.

Call it God, call it fate, call it the devil’s own way, but whatever you call it, it is still there. What’s interesting is the lack of understanding of the problems and why we are faced with them. Most if not all of us would be okay with all of it if it was only a little bit fairer. Granted I understand that giving an inch will only lead to a mile, but honestly the top 1% control the bottom 99%. I wonder what kind of world we would be living in if it was more 60/40 or even 70/30? It would feel like a god damn utopia for at least what 2000 more years? Who the fuck knows. What is known is that there will always be someone above you, over you, or fucking you in some way.

This called a constant and the way of the world. Won’t change no matter what primitive cousin to the primate we put in charge. Man will find a way to fuck it up. We will find a way to destroy it because we still haven’t figured out how to fix it. The whole history book thing. Though we are getting better at drawing it out so, I guess that is something to be proud of. Still hoping we can figure out the whole bathroom issue sometime soon.

I feel like this is really holding us up as a society. We could do what they do in Japan and just have every public restroom be a hole in the ground. No that would be too simple and the legislation too short. What is a bill or a law if it isn’t over a thousand pages making sure it disenfranchises at least one person? Hippie propaganda.  Really lost the meaning of what I was trying to say here at about the second sentence.

America has problems, yes. So does every other nation in history up until now. Some have gotten some of it right and others don’t have a fucking clue as to what the word right even means. There are continents with major issues. Looking at you Africa. Seriously what the fuck? I mean the continent has a serious anti-homosexual stance which is fucked up enough. This alone would be like hey we need to talk about some stuff here. Please take a seat. But then on top of all that they are also mutilating innocent little girls because? They are fucking up vaginas while having a serious problem with homosexuals. That’s beyond we need to talk. That’s some dark shit. I never met the man, but I feel like even Ted Bundy would be like that’s a little too far or he’d clap. Really could go either way with that example. Do you like women or hate them? So confused on the overall message a large part of Africa is trying to get across. Where do you transition from there I’m not too sure.

Slave labor in other countries, human trafficking, mass starvation, or religious extremists? Honestly I can’t get over the bathroom issue and how unjustified it is. Something needs to be done god damn it. We invented greatness (patent pending) and we can solve this problem. We need to solve this problem before it ends up like another one of those big-ticket issues such as abortion or global genocide. I mean are we not heading to another civil war or are we not heading to another civil war. The chaos and panic in the streets is horrific and must be stopped. I mean we could put in place a higher minimum wage, free higher education, and free healthcare. I personally know that having a billion dollars is not enough to live a comfortable and sustaining life. I need every one of those dollars for things. Things made by people I don’t pay or care about. It’s a cycle but it looks more like a pile of shit. Luckily I happen to be on top of it. Make America great again? How about taxing the rich again? Are you out of your mind?

Broken Up Thoughts

They are trying to convince a generation built on speed, built on now to go slower on the streets. They might as well convince a dog to shit in the toilet. All of the skills are there but the instinct? Not so much. No one wants to go slower. If anything they want to go faster. Walk faster, talk faster, and be done faster. No one wants to do anything that takes time. This generation or the last. We are not designed to live in the now only the future. Even if that means a chance at death. Life itself is a chance at death.

 

He had so much anger growing up. I saw it right away. I knew I was going to have to do something so I told him, “You don’t hit anyone ever. You never hit a woman, a man, a child I don’t care who it is you never hit anyone” “But I want to dad,” he would say. “I know you do son but you don’t that’s life. You get in this ring though and you knock them the fuck out.” That’s what I would tell my son. That’s the strength I put in him. They say rich kids don’t fight and they’re wrong. Some people are born with this rage, this passion, this anger and money don’t have a fucking thing to do about it. If they don’t channel it. If they don’t get it out it consumes them. Destroys them and I wasn’t about to let that happen to my boy or anyone else.

 

Day in, day out, 9 to 5, 9 to whenever, however you want to put getting fucked. I am lost within myself. Lost in the dark. The theme is something I carry with me every second of every day. The lights all burned out. No longer even a flicker of a flame. Absolute dark. If only I could get beyond this. Step into the figurative illusion of this so-called light I’m missing in my life. Maybe then. Maybe somehow I could be who it is I always dreamed I could be. Then again maybe it will all one day come together for us all. I doubt it, but that could very well be who I am. In the end we all have something to say. In the end we all have our place in obscurity. We all have our own personal hell to wander through.

Faith For All That Is Left

Faith is a question we ask ourselves. An idea we question every thought and every action with. We do this based on faith that we are doing the right thing, that we are justified in our faith. But where does this faith come from? Does it come from religion or are we in fact born with this idea of faith. The question feeds itself over and over. The idea burns itself into our brains until it no longer matters which came first, but that we have faith at all. Over and over again we battle with ourselves and with each other. Over and over again. A constant battle of who is right and who is wrong. No one on earth is right and no one on earth is wrong, but in fact they are both.

Society states this and society states that, but who is this society? Where did this all start or where did all of this come from? A question as dense as the question of faith. The written word passes down information from generation to generation. Therefore passing the idea of society down with it. A giant game of telephone that eventually found its way to stone, to paper. Even words written in stone are really nothing more than an interpretation of an idea that began long ago. Nothing is permanent. Nothing can last.  Our words will change and evolve. Our world will change and evolve. Thoughts and ideas of today will not be the same a hundred years from now. Or will they? Will we or can we reach a point that the words we write, speak, or believe actually have a definitive meaning?

Unlikely giving the history of man or the will of man to manipulate words to their own will. It falls again on society. We have no real way of knowing where our society comes from. We can trace the pages of course, scour the library looking for such information, but in the end all this trail leads us to nothing more than theories. No one knows how this great society truly started. We can see the snowball effect of it all, but the very begin, the first spark? No one knows. Yet, somehow some way it is in there.

It is in our brains. Maybe even in our DNA. Quite possibly society and faith are etched into our very souls. Over lapping one another in the double helix that is us. Coming together to form the basis of our ideas or our way of life. However it may be or may not be in the end no amount of faith in society can provide a sustainable future. Corruption, greed, humanity will find a way to destroy everything. Proving once again that these two things have no answer, have no meaning. It is only a matter of time before everything falls apart. Nothing is forever. Nothing is permanent. Have faith in that.

And Other Things From This Time Preview

New America

Woke up with little to say
Now should be the time to strike
At a loss for how I feel
The words circle my mind without a thought
Miss guided, maybe
Lost as always
A constant need to say everything I am thinking
When will I ever shut up
My mind is always repeating
Coming up with more and more
Some of it worth saying, most of it the same shit as before
A bent helix and nothing more
Page turner is hard to come by
Wouldn’t understand unless you are already at my level
Zero sleep, pumping caffeine directly into my vein
Could OD and feel the same
An absolute with absolutely nothing at all
Foreign ideas lost in familiar land
Said we are the same but I have no idea who these people are
Learned to live so far away from here
They said it was the same and they couldn’t be more wrong
America failed itself over and over
Each generation a lost nation soaked in blood
A dirty mind lost in thought

Often

I often wonder what it feels to die
Does it feel like I do now
All alone with no one to talk too
I do this to myself
Yet I don’t know the answers to my own questions
I often wonder how soon
Will all this prove to be meaningless
They say you pave your own way
But what if it’s not true
What if this is nothing more than a collection
Of me and you
I often wonder about God
Am I him or is it you
All reason would lead to nothing at all
I feel like I know what I’m saying
But in the end it all seems to come out the same
Blood in blood out and all that shit
Maybe life is nothing more than a brotherhood
Of bull shit
I do this to myself
Get all upset for no good reason
I often wonder what it feels to die
And I know it has to feel like this

Now Available Where All Kindle Books Are Sold…. Yes I Sold Out Because It Is All That I Know….

Life and Luck

“My lighter quit working on me three cigarettes ago, but I keep flicking the damn thing expecting it to light. That’s really how my life has been lately, broken and useless. If it wasn’t for all the anti smokers informing me of my future death I’d already think I was dead. All my money is tapped out and I’m begging for a light from a crowd of strangers. One wicked old lady felt the need to tell me how smoking is hazardous to my health. Thanks like I didn’t already know that I tell her. The surgeon general’s been warning me for years, but your comment finally hit close to home because your opinion matters on my life. Since were being honest your handbag doesn’t match your shoes and it’s really distracting to the eye. She called me an asshole and I smiled. Nonsmokers are useless. They should all be shot or just shut the hell up. Most of them are hypocritical bastards that down a thirty pack of their favorite beer and decided to take a Sunday drive down the sidewalk. Isn’t it amazing how drunks can forget words like no or force themselves on a woman and not remember, but they can find their cars in a white out blizzard and run over six people? Been smoking ten years and I’ve still been unable to take a life, but my own. I’m the real villain of the world. Maybe I should turn myself in to the police? They might be looking for me and I should be careful. At least I could get a hot meal and a place to stay if they can find me.

You could say I lost my money on the market like everyone else in recent history, but my market was the back room of bars and basements of store buildings. I have a real hard time picking winners if you know what I mean. Bad luck must be something of a disease caught at birth. Sometimes people have it and sometimes people do. My father had all the luck in the world and my uncle couldn’t rub two pennies together to heat his home. Buddhists would call bad luck karma, but that’s just all a bunch of shit. Same with fate and all that other crap people tell you about life and luck. Life is all about luck. Some would say I’m bitter, but really I’m just unlucky. Unless you count the fact that I’m still breathing, but then again that is only because I haven’t died yet. Nope the lord hasn’t pulled my straw just yet even if he has unstrung my bundle. Nope, nope still breathing and still struggling through life’s shit storm, and life is a real shit storm.

I know I am to blame don’t be so cynical and think that I didn’t know that. Searching for the easy money. The American dream or whatever bull shit we are peddling around the world. It’s all the same everywhere. Struggle is struggle in any language. Only thing any of us have in common I guess. What do I know about the world? Barely made it out of bed this morning let alone out of the country. Could this place really be worth losing everything over? I’d trade it in for a carton of cigarettes and a government check. Like most of us I’m too proud to realize how good I might have it. Here I go rambling again instead of begging for money. It’s a long and lonely road out here. You know what I mean?”

She pulls her head buds out of her ears, “Did you want a dollar or something?”

In Case I Go Missing

I can’t get that girl out of my mind. “Remember my face,” fucking useless words etched into my brain forever. Well maybe the rest of the week, but the next few days all I will be thinking about is, is she alive or dead. I’m sure every once in a while I’ll think of her again but I won’t care as much as I do now. Though to be honest it is the statement that has me thinking about her not so much her as a person.

“Remember my face,” Fucking why? “Taking a ride from someone I don’t know.” What are you running from? Why do people do this to themselves? I don’t care I want to scream, but of course I do and I will have to until something else distracts my mind. A moment is a moment to a writer. It becomes something greater as a whole because it is strange and strange is interesting.

It is an unanswered conversation that plays over and over in our heads. Consumes and relates to every decision or thought. There are way too many possibilities behind something as small as coincidence. A life time of decisions in a thirty-second conversation. “In case I go missing,” who puts themselves in situations that they may not return from? How do you not know that this isn’t the right thing to do? What could it be that you are running from?

The past and the future haunts us all, and it is called the present. Can’t out run any of this. Doesn’t stop anyone from trying though. I hope she is still alive, but I stand by what I told her. “Your actions are your own.” If I really cared I would have said more. I didn’t so I guess I don’t.

Something Different In Pieces

The demon it sleeps, waking only for the sound of broken bones
A ringing that snaps the consciousness, a fear steeped in blood
Fighting the demon requires an understanding
A contract of self-defecation, A knowing of constant failure
There can be no winner when all is lost
The stones tell a story of loss and misguidance
A reason to know that none of this ever mattered
The letters in blood are lost to the times
The words they spell make no sense to anyone
Gun fire in the distance, frustration released on the innocent
Taking control never meant being in charge

Syphoning​ the blood to sell for oil
I don’t know of a better way to inflict toil
Breaking down barriers to exterminate freedom
I don’t know of a better way to express reasons
Sounding sad to get what we are
The victims of our own troubles
Owning something sounds too harsh
I don’t know of a better reason to destroy
Freedoms lacking from the start

My eyes are open to the world and I do not like what I see
A cascading river of blood washing over me
How could this world have come to be
A distant memory of civilization
Books I read that made me believe we are one
Lies told from the throat of the devil

Your policies don’t make sense
When stacked up next to each other
Is it that you hate people or people unlike you
The vast majority fit into your minority
A walking pariah, self-appointed Messiah
You’re not God or even the devil
A walking mistake we all have to live with