That delicious pint of ice cream sitting in your freezer, inaudibly calling your name. How did it know to be your favorite kind? Made by your favorite maker. It is cheating in the war of self-control. It secretly is aware that it is your kryptonite. It is always issuing a challenge to you. As long as you don’t taste it, you can win that challenge but the very moment that sweet harmony of “mmm” touches your taste buds, you instantly cave to your desires.
You think to yourself,”I can stop at about half the container.” but it comes sooner than you anticipated, much to your chagrin. “Darn.” Then you think, “Well, I did say ‘about’ half way”. You know, deep inside, that ‘about’ was a code word for indulgence. You know, that this means the container will be empty before you relinquish control.
This is how I feel about you & your love. This is how I feel about having to leave you immediately following a kiss or a hug. It feels like something is tearing the soul from my body. It feels like I’m dying. If I don’t judge you for the things you cannot let go, then why must you judge me for the person that I cannot, nay, will not let go of easily?
Whatever you see my desire as, be it lust or addiction, you are required to see that merely, deeply inside of me, is the urge for it to be requited; the urging of reciprocity. Can you give me what I desire?
Monday, July 18, 2011
Legisou
I'm disgruntled. Not really. I'll chase you to the ends of the Earth just to tell you how much I appreciated your encouragement.
We all know that it isn't about power or intellect but the proper placement(think baseball and sweet spots; think Martial Arts and the precision in their strikes). More so than anybody else, at least recently, the way you gushed over me and encouraged me truly made me feel like I could do it. Sometimes the words feel empty when coming from others, you know, less than sincere, like they are just saying it to fulfill some portion of a desire within themselves. I felt much differently about your encouragement. It has been a while, and when I hesitate to push...flashes in my head, urging me to chase my dreams. No false confidence, no pseudo reprimand, just the encouragement I know as love. This is sincere and I would prefer you kept it with the highest regard but at the end of the day, I'm a stranger with a record of being inconsistent in almost every way. I'm clawing for improvement and who knows if I will ever truly find it but knowing the encouragement as I have, knowing the love random strangers share with each other, I feel further steadied on my personal path through perdition. Again thank you.
Here is the question: Do you know why what you said and how you said it madeit through to me as sincere, genuine & refreshing?
We all know that it isn't about power or intellect but the proper placement(think baseball and sweet spots; think Martial Arts and the precision in their strikes). More so than anybody else, at least recently, the way you gushed over me and encouraged me truly made me feel like I could do it. Sometimes the words feel empty when coming from others, you know, less than sincere, like they are just saying it to fulfill some portion of a desire within themselves. I felt much differently about your encouragement. It has been a while, and when I hesitate to push...flashes in my head, urging me to chase my dreams. No false confidence, no pseudo reprimand, just the encouragement I know as love. This is sincere and I would prefer you kept it with the highest regard but at the end of the day, I'm a stranger with a record of being inconsistent in almost every way. I'm clawing for improvement and who knows if I will ever truly find it but knowing the encouragement as I have, knowing the love random strangers share with each other, I feel further steadied on my personal path through perdition. Again thank you.
Here is the question: Do you know why what you said and how you said it madeit through to me as sincere, genuine & refreshing?
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Apparently LoadB
A feeling. Some indescribable force compelling an emotional response. Ineffable potential responses glazed over by the lack of ability and the constant push of time. How can unknown moments be revisited without a transaction record; without an attempt to catch memories in a bottle?
Can a person really see the energy of another; can a spirit really be melded from two into one? Does a sincere person speak in abstract terms that can only be defined individually? Does it really matter how many people a body is shared with? A plethora of questions, inquisitions and curiosities but are there any concrete answers? Sure, for individuals but not in general.
Like the branches on an aging tree, personalities and beliefs push in every which way to find only ether awaiting. Nobody is correct but everyone is proper; nobody is wrong but everyone is misled. Closed or open minded; kindly accommodating, begrudgingly obligating or rudely obstinate, people do what people "will" to do. Just as branches may block the Sun of one another or limit the wetness of the raindrops to reach the roots, each is natural and accounted for. Just as the criminals imprisoned or the business man exalted, each path has already been chosen but the "crown" has yet to be placed.
How often does a person stand outside of destiny; finishing at some unprecedented location? Avoiding the constraints of fate and growing with an infinitely intimate trajectory is simply too difficult to capture within words. The meaning escapes translation from "eye to eye". To learn the bite of fire, there is a very real need to first touch the root of it. With this grab at the base of destruction known as fire, the worth of pain can become evidence of life. For through the fire, life can be seen dancing wildly with reckless abandon.
Can a person really see the energy of another; can a spirit really be melded from two into one? Does a sincere person speak in abstract terms that can only be defined individually? Does it really matter how many people a body is shared with? A plethora of questions, inquisitions and curiosities but are there any concrete answers? Sure, for individuals but not in general.
Like the branches on an aging tree, personalities and beliefs push in every which way to find only ether awaiting. Nobody is correct but everyone is proper; nobody is wrong but everyone is misled. Closed or open minded; kindly accommodating, begrudgingly obligating or rudely obstinate, people do what people "will" to do. Just as branches may block the Sun of one another or limit the wetness of the raindrops to reach the roots, each is natural and accounted for. Just as the criminals imprisoned or the business man exalted, each path has already been chosen but the "crown" has yet to be placed.
How often does a person stand outside of destiny; finishing at some unprecedented location? Avoiding the constraints of fate and growing with an infinitely intimate trajectory is simply too difficult to capture within words. The meaning escapes translation from "eye to eye". To learn the bite of fire, there is a very real need to first touch the root of it. With this grab at the base of destruction known as fire, the worth of pain can become evidence of life. For through the fire, life can be seen dancing wildly with reckless abandon.
Slipping into Darkness
I know that I share a lot of details about myself. Sometimes the details seem pointless. Sometimes I say things that people cannot follow and so they dismiss these things as purely bollocks. Well, I have been trying hard to figure out what people see wrong with the way I share my thoughts. I do so much to fit in but I simply cannot. Not the way that I currently am. My mother raised an individual and a child that aimed to be the greatest man who ever lived. While her child may not be the greatest ever, I, will never stop trying. I get confused really easily. However, I try really hard to keep up with people. Sometimes, the way people communicate utterly circumvents any ability I possess.
I love to laugh and I try hard not to take myself too seriously but we all know how feeling as if the people around you could care less inspires rebellion in our gut. Anyways, I use that goofiness to get through these situations that try ever fiber of my character. It helps. Though, there are times that I feel like the little positivity that I possess is simply not enough to counter all of the anger and resentment looming inside of me. There appears to be no form of catharsis that will supply me with the necessary burst to get over myself. I mean, I judge people. Not necessarily for who they are but what they do. It is easier to forgive a person frozen to inaction than a person who makes a horrendous mistake. I haven't given of myself or my virtue so freely that a woman that has had 30 different men in her can label me "hers". I would feel underwhelmed with what I could mean to her. She could literally extend my life with an organ and it still would not budge me from the perception that she just didn't treasure her future husband enough to remain somewhat virtuous. I cannot be that person. To be completely honest, I cannot even fathom ten different men. It hurts my brain to visualize. I'd rather stay single and mean nothing to no one than to give myself totally to somebody who has shared their "self" with so many. I cannot be him for you if you are as the hypothetical woman is in my head. Call me lame. Call me stunted. Call me insecure and every other name. But does that then lace within my words the freedom to label you a whore, slut, jezzebelle or anything else to tarnish your character? Is that a solid point? I don't wish to define anybody else outside of what they CAN mean to me. I don't even do that a lot. When I did do that a lot, it felt weak and weird. I wasn't comfortable doing so. There is an odd feeling of power; a slight thrill from drowning somebody in hateful terms. I hate that feeling of power. I hate that thrill. It doesn't fit me well.
I love to laugh and I try hard not to take myself too seriously but we all know how feeling as if the people around you could care less inspires rebellion in our gut. Anyways, I use that goofiness to get through these situations that try ever fiber of my character. It helps. Though, there are times that I feel like the little positivity that I possess is simply not enough to counter all of the anger and resentment looming inside of me. There appears to be no form of catharsis that will supply me with the necessary burst to get over myself. I mean, I judge people. Not necessarily for who they are but what they do. It is easier to forgive a person frozen to inaction than a person who makes a horrendous mistake. I haven't given of myself or my virtue so freely that a woman that has had 30 different men in her can label me "hers". I would feel underwhelmed with what I could mean to her. She could literally extend my life with an organ and it still would not budge me from the perception that she just didn't treasure her future husband enough to remain somewhat virtuous. I cannot be that person. To be completely honest, I cannot even fathom ten different men. It hurts my brain to visualize. I'd rather stay single and mean nothing to no one than to give myself totally to somebody who has shared their "self" with so many. I cannot be him for you if you are as the hypothetical woman is in my head. Call me lame. Call me stunted. Call me insecure and every other name. But does that then lace within my words the freedom to label you a whore, slut, jezzebelle or anything else to tarnish your character? Is that a solid point? I don't wish to define anybody else outside of what they CAN mean to me. I don't even do that a lot. When I did do that a lot, it felt weak and weird. I wasn't comfortable doing so. There is an odd feeling of power; a slight thrill from drowning somebody in hateful terms. I hate that feeling of power. I hate that thrill. It doesn't fit me well.
Simple Bitches
Miserable wretches. I'm not angry nor disappointed. Though, there has definitely been enough of this bullshit logic floating around supplementing the ignorance that perpetuates the daily issues we acquiesce to seemingly non-fucking-stop. I ain't shit. I ain't never going to be shit. But I will be a PH.d and I will teach at a four year. Eat my sack. Or don't, I think I'll need that for the demon seeded progeny I plan on procreating.
So, whats my kobe beef? This poorly focused ideology that people spread like an contagiously air-borne disease. Real talk. Lets start there at real talk. Whats fake talk? Hypotheticals? What world you live in that communicates primarily using hypothetical situations. Even as a commonly used expression the ideals that support the everything behind even feeling the need to say that shout ignorance of the user.
I'm not even going to transition, I'm just going to jump into my list as they come to me. Fuck if you give a damn for writing style as I'm showing my greatest ignorance at the moment. More to come as I'm not above this list. People who sleep with people they couldn't give a fuck less about. That shit utterly discombobulates me. Thats what the fuck STD's/STI's or any other thing you get from marriage like activities while not having marriage like amorous affinities about the person you engage. This shit is beyond silly. Expletive laden speech aside, you fuckers need to get right. Run around spouting all this God talk but the first mutha fucka to come out with double fuckin digit sexual partners. Oh? Word? Its just that easy to find somebody to fuck? Sure but it doesn't mean that just because you have the ability to do something that you should do it. I'm in single digits, I've turned down more mutha fuckas than I can remember for sillier reasons than I'd like to admit but the more important underlying motive is that I wanted the woman I settled down with to realize that I wasn't out there just giving my penis to any broad, pretty or not, that asked for it. Y'all are fucking up and still asking for respect? Fuck the whole every part of you. I don't feel any need at all to define you but just because I ain't walking around throwing out titles and shit doesn't mean I didn't define how I feel about people that do the things that I don't agree with. Hence, why I keep to my fucking self. I can only hate myself so much because I understand why I did everything I did. You however, I don't know why and my perspective will NEVER line up with yours. We were raised with differing values and experiences...this is the only reason I don't see fit to judge you. But having you even interact with me burns me...because part of me knows that you are trying desperately to relate. I absolutely hate that. Even if I was perfect...well I cannot in good conscience make that sentence. If I were a better person, I doubt the fortitude of my character would withstand an assault of the kind others represent. I'm not Jesus, I will not assort with prostitutes or killers or thieves and maintain my visions and determinations.
You cry foul first fucks. As long as you winning, you don't give a shit about nobody else's pains but when you in pain you think everybody else should care about your shit. Fuck the ever longing shitty ass air you breathe. Victim mentality ass trash. Y'all talking about reading books. White's,Black's and all the other colors of rainbows and shit. Everybody want somebody else to bow to them and their bullshit pains. Always throwing criticism, elevating personal idealisms and yet claiming to be intelligent. Fuck quotation marks. The first people to tell me I'm hard, or stuck up or some other bullshit are the ones who over look how far I actually traveled to hold my hand out and help them. I could have watched people burn and drown but I risked my flesh to travel through trouble and assist them in persisting life. I cannot tell you how many times I've been stabbed in my back by people who's lives I've saved. I cannot tell you how many times I've held my hand out for help and nobody was there to grab that shit.How many miles I've had to walk when people were relaxing and refusing to answer their phones when I desperately needed help. The tears that flowed my cheeks as I felt alone in the world. The despair I've nearly given into. And out of those moments the first thing I do is reach inside my self to find forgiveness and understanding for these other people. They don't do it for me, I don't get caught up on it. I grow. I always try to grow. I have my weaknesses and failures thrown in my face far too commonly for me to feel comfortable but the first thing I am accused of being is negative. I'm black bitch. I cannot even remember if my memories are true any more. I cannot remember if those guns that were in my face and cocked ready to blow were real or not anymore. I can't remember if running for my life and jumping fences were real, anymore. That is, until I look at the scars. And I think I've had a good life; a blessed life. I'm harder on myself for all the bullshit I fall into and forget to avoid while people that can't manage to smile through simple disadvantages judge me without knowing shit about me. What I've sacrificed or worked to get out of myself to overcome. The website shit doesn't bother me so much. It means less. People just puffing up their chest and getting caught up in emotions while acting like they ain't. Thats cool though. I've been called more punks and chumps then I know what to do with. I've been excluded and ostracized for being honest and vulnerable. And still they judge me. While being of the weakest variety and yet they are still winning while I'm losing.
I ain't got shit thats worth having. I'm on the verge of being locked into my slavery. Well, sort of. I've escaped plenty of pitfalls, some due my undeniable perversion in paranoia and others due to the good natures of the some of the same people I now cannot withstand any longer. Its very unsettling being upset with a person while totally and completely grateful to them. It is gut wrenchingly painful. But the same thing makes you smile makes you cry.
I hate feeling like I'm extra. I hate feeling like I'm slow. But people do some amazing things with thoughts and words and just lay things out in amazing ways. I don't know if it is a skill or what because I don't see it being taught anywhere. I've always been gifted with intelligence but there is just something that isn't adding up to zero when I look at it. And nobody has the fuckwits to explain this shit in a way that can be made accessible. I feel like either I'm really bright and people are really on some global level conspiration shit to make me question myself OR I'm really dumb and say some smart shit sometimes and nobody wants to nor has the heart to tell me how fucking stupid I really am. These are arrogant thoughts right? But this shit is simple. The world is run by idiots. What I mean by that last bit is actually a bit deeper than I can simply say. Imagine if you will, what it would take for me to come to a conclusion like those two possibilities and still maintain some sense of sanity. A tremendous amount of coincidence...not meant by the nuance but simply the fact that two things happened at the same time. We don't put mysticisms into the term coinciding but put the -ence on the end and all fuckin logic slides right the fuck on out. Kind of like the term ignorance, which, could still be used in a similar sense to that which it should mean instead of that which it does currently mean. The basterdization of this language is killing me and this shit needs to be refreshed, or something.
So all of that...distracted language was to say there are too many differing ways for me to say how I just don't agree with the shit people do and say and think but the most I can ever do about it is A)complain B)join in C)mind my own D)quit. The thing is, I made my decision a long time ago and this may sound like bullshit or (for those who have been praying for me because of my use of expletives) malarkey but I was fairly conscientious of my responsibilities at a young age. There are plenty of things that I missed but understanding my impact on the World around me wasn't really one of them. Thank you Captain Planet.
I wanted to save everyone. That got twisted and I wanted to destroy everything. Then I saw the common super villain theme was this twisted love. I did not want to be evil. I was afraid of that life. As I grew and resisted the urges, I began to understand that things aren't just white and black. I grew to find that things much more intensely complicated than most people make them out to be. Everything needs to be simplified. Could life be more pointless? Naw, you think working a job is making some sort of contribution to society? I'll be straight up with you, my thoughts on society are summed up with this-"Fuck Society". I've separated myself from this gelatenous group of hideously pretentious import. You all ain't worth shit. That you think, is the only reason you think you are worth shit. This shouldn't be ground breaking. Though, there is one thing that makes it all worth living through. "Everything you will do will never matter, thought it is very important that you do it." I don't remember who the quote comes from but that shit gives me life.
All the bullshit niggas,wiggas,chinks,changs,spics,spans and any other mutha gotto come with could miss me in the most epic of ways but I'll do my best to not allow it to bother me too greatly. Cause I ain't shit and I ain't never gon' be shit...my name is Jerome, nice to meet you. If you read all of that you are either curiously piqued or sincerely have surpassed any reasoning I would know for a person to read an esoteric rant and not really know why the person mad. Why am I mad son? Because people stay on bullshit and want to drag you into it. I'm just trying to make my dream come true so I can improve how people do the things they do. And when I finally get to tell my story, I'm sure it won't bore you too much. But right now...I'm still crawling around the bottom of the barrel soaking up as much sunlight as I can as it filters through the layers of hate and disregard. I'm so ready for this life to reach pleasant. Smiling when people hand you shit is getting old. I just want to be matched...if I always got to work to meet the people in my life then what the fuck am I still living where I'm living for? I could do this well with my enemies.
Losing an opinion is much harder than anything a person could sincerely do. I'm still working on it. And if someone says, "Oh, I got rid of my opinion already." I'll jap slap the poor piss outta em. The fuck you did. bottling and removing are two entirely different....you know what? I will not respond to ignorance not a second longer.
And that's my love for now....
So, whats my kobe beef? This poorly focused ideology that people spread like an contagiously air-borne disease. Real talk. Lets start there at real talk. Whats fake talk? Hypotheticals? What world you live in that communicates primarily using hypothetical situations. Even as a commonly used expression the ideals that support the everything behind even feeling the need to say that shout ignorance of the user.
I'm not even going to transition, I'm just going to jump into my list as they come to me. Fuck if you give a damn for writing style as I'm showing my greatest ignorance at the moment. More to come as I'm not above this list. People who sleep with people they couldn't give a fuck less about. That shit utterly discombobulates me. Thats what the fuck STD's/STI's or any other thing you get from marriage like activities while not having marriage like amorous affinities about the person you engage. This shit is beyond silly. Expletive laden speech aside, you fuckers need to get right. Run around spouting all this God talk but the first mutha fucka to come out with double fuckin digit sexual partners. Oh? Word? Its just that easy to find somebody to fuck? Sure but it doesn't mean that just because you have the ability to do something that you should do it. I'm in single digits, I've turned down more mutha fuckas than I can remember for sillier reasons than I'd like to admit but the more important underlying motive is that I wanted the woman I settled down with to realize that I wasn't out there just giving my penis to any broad, pretty or not, that asked for it. Y'all are fucking up and still asking for respect? Fuck the whole every part of you. I don't feel any need at all to define you but just because I ain't walking around throwing out titles and shit doesn't mean I didn't define how I feel about people that do the things that I don't agree with. Hence, why I keep to my fucking self. I can only hate myself so much because I understand why I did everything I did. You however, I don't know why and my perspective will NEVER line up with yours. We were raised with differing values and experiences...this is the only reason I don't see fit to judge you. But having you even interact with me burns me...because part of me knows that you are trying desperately to relate. I absolutely hate that. Even if I was perfect...well I cannot in good conscience make that sentence. If I were a better person, I doubt the fortitude of my character would withstand an assault of the kind others represent. I'm not Jesus, I will not assort with prostitutes or killers or thieves and maintain my visions and determinations.
You cry foul first fucks. As long as you winning, you don't give a shit about nobody else's pains but when you in pain you think everybody else should care about your shit. Fuck the ever longing shitty ass air you breathe. Victim mentality ass trash. Y'all talking about reading books. White's,Black's and all the other colors of rainbows and shit. Everybody want somebody else to bow to them and their bullshit pains. Always throwing criticism, elevating personal idealisms and yet claiming to be intelligent. Fuck quotation marks. The first people to tell me I'm hard, or stuck up or some other bullshit are the ones who over look how far I actually traveled to hold my hand out and help them. I could have watched people burn and drown but I risked my flesh to travel through trouble and assist them in persisting life. I cannot tell you how many times I've been stabbed in my back by people who's lives I've saved. I cannot tell you how many times I've held my hand out for help and nobody was there to grab that shit.How many miles I've had to walk when people were relaxing and refusing to answer their phones when I desperately needed help. The tears that flowed my cheeks as I felt alone in the world. The despair I've nearly given into. And out of those moments the first thing I do is reach inside my self to find forgiveness and understanding for these other people. They don't do it for me, I don't get caught up on it. I grow. I always try to grow. I have my weaknesses and failures thrown in my face far too commonly for me to feel comfortable but the first thing I am accused of being is negative. I'm black bitch. I cannot even remember if my memories are true any more. I cannot remember if those guns that were in my face and cocked ready to blow were real or not anymore. I can't remember if running for my life and jumping fences were real, anymore. That is, until I look at the scars. And I think I've had a good life; a blessed life. I'm harder on myself for all the bullshit I fall into and forget to avoid while people that can't manage to smile through simple disadvantages judge me without knowing shit about me. What I've sacrificed or worked to get out of myself to overcome. The website shit doesn't bother me so much. It means less. People just puffing up their chest and getting caught up in emotions while acting like they ain't. Thats cool though. I've been called more punks and chumps then I know what to do with. I've been excluded and ostracized for being honest and vulnerable. And still they judge me. While being of the weakest variety and yet they are still winning while I'm losing.
I ain't got shit thats worth having. I'm on the verge of being locked into my slavery. Well, sort of. I've escaped plenty of pitfalls, some due my undeniable perversion in paranoia and others due to the good natures of the some of the same people I now cannot withstand any longer. Its very unsettling being upset with a person while totally and completely grateful to them. It is gut wrenchingly painful. But the same thing makes you smile makes you cry.
I hate feeling like I'm extra. I hate feeling like I'm slow. But people do some amazing things with thoughts and words and just lay things out in amazing ways. I don't know if it is a skill or what because I don't see it being taught anywhere. I've always been gifted with intelligence but there is just something that isn't adding up to zero when I look at it. And nobody has the fuckwits to explain this shit in a way that can be made accessible. I feel like either I'm really bright and people are really on some global level conspiration shit to make me question myself OR I'm really dumb and say some smart shit sometimes and nobody wants to nor has the heart to tell me how fucking stupid I really am. These are arrogant thoughts right? But this shit is simple. The world is run by idiots. What I mean by that last bit is actually a bit deeper than I can simply say. Imagine if you will, what it would take for me to come to a conclusion like those two possibilities and still maintain some sense of sanity. A tremendous amount of coincidence...not meant by the nuance but simply the fact that two things happened at the same time. We don't put mysticisms into the term coinciding but put the -ence on the end and all fuckin logic slides right the fuck on out. Kind of like the term ignorance, which, could still be used in a similar sense to that which it should mean instead of that which it does currently mean. The basterdization of this language is killing me and this shit needs to be refreshed, or something.
So all of that...distracted language was to say there are too many differing ways for me to say how I just don't agree with the shit people do and say and think but the most I can ever do about it is A)complain B)join in C)mind my own D)quit. The thing is, I made my decision a long time ago and this may sound like bullshit or (for those who have been praying for me because of my use of expletives) malarkey but I was fairly conscientious of my responsibilities at a young age. There are plenty of things that I missed but understanding my impact on the World around me wasn't really one of them. Thank you Captain Planet.
I wanted to save everyone. That got twisted and I wanted to destroy everything. Then I saw the common super villain theme was this twisted love. I did not want to be evil. I was afraid of that life. As I grew and resisted the urges, I began to understand that things aren't just white and black. I grew to find that things much more intensely complicated than most people make them out to be. Everything needs to be simplified. Could life be more pointless? Naw, you think working a job is making some sort of contribution to society? I'll be straight up with you, my thoughts on society are summed up with this-"Fuck Society". I've separated myself from this gelatenous group of hideously pretentious import. You all ain't worth shit. That you think, is the only reason you think you are worth shit. This shouldn't be ground breaking. Though, there is one thing that makes it all worth living through. "Everything you will do will never matter, thought it is very important that you do it." I don't remember who the quote comes from but that shit gives me life.
All the bullshit niggas,wiggas,chinks,changs,spics,spans and any other mutha gotto come with could miss me in the most epic of ways but I'll do my best to not allow it to bother me too greatly. Cause I ain't shit and I ain't never gon' be shit...my name is Jerome, nice to meet you. If you read all of that you are either curiously piqued or sincerely have surpassed any reasoning I would know for a person to read an esoteric rant and not really know why the person mad. Why am I mad son? Because people stay on bullshit and want to drag you into it. I'm just trying to make my dream come true so I can improve how people do the things they do. And when I finally get to tell my story, I'm sure it won't bore you too much. But right now...I'm still crawling around the bottom of the barrel soaking up as much sunlight as I can as it filters through the layers of hate and disregard. I'm so ready for this life to reach pleasant. Smiling when people hand you shit is getting old. I just want to be matched...if I always got to work to meet the people in my life then what the fuck am I still living where I'm living for? I could do this well with my enemies.
Losing an opinion is much harder than anything a person could sincerely do. I'm still working on it. And if someone says, "Oh, I got rid of my opinion already." I'll jap slap the poor piss outta em. The fuck you did. bottling and removing are two entirely different....you know what? I will not respond to ignorance not a second longer.
And that's my love for now....
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Black Powder
My younger, most well mannered cousin offered me this stuff called Black Powder. I think that was another name for dynamite but I'm not sure and too lazy to highlight and scroll down to search google for Black powder. Considering I just typed that all out, you may be skeptical to believe me. Nope, LAZY.
Anyways, I held onto it for months and did zero research. I went through force factor, which inspired a weird, imprecise feeling. I thought I was stronger, it worked. Often it spurred my apetite and for that I was grateful. I have been off force factor for a few months now and decided to try this Black Powder. I mixed it and consumed it on an empty stomach like the directions instructed. I became very hesitant though because it wanted an empty stomach...this is the very first and only supplement to ask such of me. I comply and I'm lifting weights within thirty minutes like I was supposed to.
Nothing is notably different and all I keep thinking about is all the caffeine it said it had in it. How much did it say? I honestly never knew, I just knew it had some in it. Anticipation effects...not yet.
So, I get to the last part of my work out, today was a leg day, I was on squats. I usually get too lazy to do free weight squats lately because my knees have been unbearably pained by them, well that and the motion is extremely uncomfortable. I proceed to do the squats. I struggle with 140 lbs. I get curious but I add weight. The asian next to me started with less than 100 lbs but he was smaller than me. I tried to ignore him as I have a tendency to ensure that I do more everything than the person next to me. Grrrr. I bump up to 185 lbs. I do that set and still my body isn't responding like I'd want it to. Meh. I bump up to 225 lbs. Finally beginning to find some rhythm with my form. A but happier behind that. I notice that I'm quite out of breath though. I take my time, its no rush. I do another set at that 225 weight. The fluidity of my motions are still improving by leaps and bounds. I have almost not a single qualm with my movements. I take another break and rest a moment to appraise my fatigue level. I feel fine for the most part and I typically would be done here but the Asian guy next to me is now doing a weight similar to my own. I decide, "hell, my rhythm is great now, I'll do another set and bounce."
So, this is my best set. I even do this set faster and with less overall effort. As I go to replace the weight, my spidey sense rings like a four alarm fire bell. I take a step and the weight of the World is dumped on my plate like some over eaters challenge. I take a seat. The seat I've now taken does not help any. I look for a place that I can stretch out but mentally because my eyes are fading in and out of focus. I think of the stretching mats. I plan on making a journey there. I don't remember that journey but I remember laying down because what happened next was all non plussing.
I'm there for a minute and my body begins to sweat like a fully open faucet. Problem is, I really don't sweat that much, even in the heat. I'm just not that sweaty. Anyways, I'm beyond drenched, nauseated and slightly disoriented. I think to myself..."damn that caffeine" it was merely a scapegoat.
As I lay there laughing at myself and swearing off of that Black powder as if it were alcohol and I over did it, I begin to think about how my body feels and I notice my heart aching. Fear strikes a note in my head. I resolve myself that everything is already done, the effect is already half lifed. I may be lying but I don't know or care because I need the delusion to provide me faith and confidence.
I feel like crap but I refuse to be a slob because of it. I get up and retrieve the supplies to clean where my sweat lay there soaking into the mat. After wiping the mat I find myself lightly disgusted at the people who were there before me. What I wiped up was pure black ratchedness. WTF? I lay there dying in that yuck factory. I wore myself out trying to be a decent person when I would have been better off leaving it the gross ass way it was.
I lay there against a bouncy ball catching my breath until I mustered enough strength to stumble out of the gym. Chest out back straight but the head was looking two feet ahead of me. I could not afford to stumble.
Suddenly, I begin feeling jacked while still nauseated. I decided to drive. My mother calls. She didn't notice that I sounded like shit. I kind of hoped she would. I was in a sinking ship. I decided I was a man, I went to walmart. My father deserved to get his birthday card on time even if I didn't get his present off on time. I did this mayne. Eli. Stumbled through wally world...confused and directionless. Ran to the post office, looking strung out and minimally coherent. I made my way home. Grrrr.
As I finally lay down I grab the container of black powder and use my phone on the barcode. I pull up several websites that say the health risk is heart and muscle failure. I laugh. I guess that was too close for comfort and I was just happy that my reckless nature didn't do me in. Alls well that ends well, right?
Now, I need to find some sex and magic. Van Hunt.
Anyways, I held onto it for months and did zero research. I went through force factor, which inspired a weird, imprecise feeling. I thought I was stronger, it worked. Often it spurred my apetite and for that I was grateful. I have been off force factor for a few months now and decided to try this Black Powder. I mixed it and consumed it on an empty stomach like the directions instructed. I became very hesitant though because it wanted an empty stomach...this is the very first and only supplement to ask such of me. I comply and I'm lifting weights within thirty minutes like I was supposed to.
Nothing is notably different and all I keep thinking about is all the caffeine it said it had in it. How much did it say? I honestly never knew, I just knew it had some in it. Anticipation effects...not yet.
So, I get to the last part of my work out, today was a leg day, I was on squats. I usually get too lazy to do free weight squats lately because my knees have been unbearably pained by them, well that and the motion is extremely uncomfortable. I proceed to do the squats. I struggle with 140 lbs. I get curious but I add weight. The asian next to me started with less than 100 lbs but he was smaller than me. I tried to ignore him as I have a tendency to ensure that I do more everything than the person next to me. Grrrr. I bump up to 185 lbs. I do that set and still my body isn't responding like I'd want it to. Meh. I bump up to 225 lbs. Finally beginning to find some rhythm with my form. A but happier behind that. I notice that I'm quite out of breath though. I take my time, its no rush. I do another set at that 225 weight. The fluidity of my motions are still improving by leaps and bounds. I have almost not a single qualm with my movements. I take another break and rest a moment to appraise my fatigue level. I feel fine for the most part and I typically would be done here but the Asian guy next to me is now doing a weight similar to my own. I decide, "hell, my rhythm is great now, I'll do another set and bounce."
So, this is my best set. I even do this set faster and with less overall effort. As I go to replace the weight, my spidey sense rings like a four alarm fire bell. I take a step and the weight of the World is dumped on my plate like some over eaters challenge. I take a seat. The seat I've now taken does not help any. I look for a place that I can stretch out but mentally because my eyes are fading in and out of focus. I think of the stretching mats. I plan on making a journey there. I don't remember that journey but I remember laying down because what happened next was all non plussing.
I'm there for a minute and my body begins to sweat like a fully open faucet. Problem is, I really don't sweat that much, even in the heat. I'm just not that sweaty. Anyways, I'm beyond drenched, nauseated and slightly disoriented. I think to myself..."damn that caffeine" it was merely a scapegoat.
As I lay there laughing at myself and swearing off of that Black powder as if it were alcohol and I over did it, I begin to think about how my body feels and I notice my heart aching. Fear strikes a note in my head. I resolve myself that everything is already done, the effect is already half lifed. I may be lying but I don't know or care because I need the delusion to provide me faith and confidence.
I feel like crap but I refuse to be a slob because of it. I get up and retrieve the supplies to clean where my sweat lay there soaking into the mat. After wiping the mat I find myself lightly disgusted at the people who were there before me. What I wiped up was pure black ratchedness. WTF? I lay there dying in that yuck factory. I wore myself out trying to be a decent person when I would have been better off leaving it the gross ass way it was.
I lay there against a bouncy ball catching my breath until I mustered enough strength to stumble out of the gym. Chest out back straight but the head was looking two feet ahead of me. I could not afford to stumble.
Suddenly, I begin feeling jacked while still nauseated. I decided to drive. My mother calls. She didn't notice that I sounded like shit. I kind of hoped she would. I was in a sinking ship. I decided I was a man, I went to walmart. My father deserved to get his birthday card on time even if I didn't get his present off on time. I did this mayne. Eli. Stumbled through wally world...confused and directionless. Ran to the post office, looking strung out and minimally coherent. I made my way home. Grrrr.
As I finally lay down I grab the container of black powder and use my phone on the barcode. I pull up several websites that say the health risk is heart and muscle failure. I laugh. I guess that was too close for comfort and I was just happy that my reckless nature didn't do me in. Alls well that ends well, right?
Now, I need to find some sex and magic. Van Hunt.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Its easier being bitter
Apparently, I don't have a tremendous wealth of experience or knowledge at my humble age. My opinion seems to grate the people it comes into contact with. I only say things I see to be true. Somehow I developed a parallel way of dealing with people by acknowledging that though they may not agree or see what I do, that their view is still as real as anything I see. This is difficult because it brings to the front and center the potential that I could be just as inattentionally blinded as those I chide. This is difficult to grip. Anyways, I dislike bitter people. Bitter people are my topic tonight.
From a very young age, I refused to be jaded or bittered by the negative things that happen. All I've ever seen being jaded produce is agony and pain and misunderstandings. I want to avoid as many confrontations as possible. Oddly enough, I get into more confrontations than most people because of this. I see it as me being proactive despite the fact that all the action in the world can only achieve so much.
With me avoiding becoming bitter, I've always played the bigger person and at times it becomes extremely tiring. There is never an opportunity to be wrong without critical dismissal of your worth. There are no bonus points and a positive image is easy to up-end without much in the way of wrong doing.
Eventually, I was left to realize that the only thing I received from being the bigger person and not getting jaded by my experience was the satisfaction of knowing I did the proper thing. But I could achieve so much with simple delusion like most people. Nonetheless, I persist because at this point I have told enough people that this near ascension level being is expected of me and I told my father(who in his own right is superlatively magnanimous). I aspire to be like he in many ways. That includes not taking the easy route and falling into a simple delusion that allows me to focus on some fact while heavily disregarding others in order to supply my need for self approval and social recognition.
Basically, it is a lot easier just getting mad, blaming everything and everybody else and being an overall killjoy. People bend to these malingerers willingly as if to avoid disturbances but really they just reinforce that a person can act unreasonably and receive what they want because of their approach.
So, the wrong way has been taken the most and the response is overwhelmingly clear: the easy road sucks in the end.
With women, they seem to try and fix the bitter men. With men, they try and run fast from the bitter women. This is largely backwards but if you squint just right, it makes perfect sense.
I know I rambled. I know I was barely coherent and I know I should do revisions to iron out the kinks in my writing and perhaps one day I will, but today is simply not the day that will be done.
Let go of the bitterness, I implore you. Being jaded has very little positively conducive potential. While being fresh and unwavering with patience leads to a world of opportunities that few ever even know exist.
That's my love for now. Jya
From a very young age, I refused to be jaded or bittered by the negative things that happen. All I've ever seen being jaded produce is agony and pain and misunderstandings. I want to avoid as many confrontations as possible. Oddly enough, I get into more confrontations than most people because of this. I see it as me being proactive despite the fact that all the action in the world can only achieve so much.
With me avoiding becoming bitter, I've always played the bigger person and at times it becomes extremely tiring. There is never an opportunity to be wrong without critical dismissal of your worth. There are no bonus points and a positive image is easy to up-end without much in the way of wrong doing.
Eventually, I was left to realize that the only thing I received from being the bigger person and not getting jaded by my experience was the satisfaction of knowing I did the proper thing. But I could achieve so much with simple delusion like most people. Nonetheless, I persist because at this point I have told enough people that this near ascension level being is expected of me and I told my father(who in his own right is superlatively magnanimous). I aspire to be like he in many ways. That includes not taking the easy route and falling into a simple delusion that allows me to focus on some fact while heavily disregarding others in order to supply my need for self approval and social recognition.
Basically, it is a lot easier just getting mad, blaming everything and everybody else and being an overall killjoy. People bend to these malingerers willingly as if to avoid disturbances but really they just reinforce that a person can act unreasonably and receive what they want because of their approach.
So, the wrong way has been taken the most and the response is overwhelmingly clear: the easy road sucks in the end.
With women, they seem to try and fix the bitter men. With men, they try and run fast from the bitter women. This is largely backwards but if you squint just right, it makes perfect sense.
I know I rambled. I know I was barely coherent and I know I should do revisions to iron out the kinks in my writing and perhaps one day I will, but today is simply not the day that will be done.
Let go of the bitterness, I implore you. Being jaded has very little positively conducive potential. While being fresh and unwavering with patience leads to a world of opportunities that few ever even know exist.
That's my love for now. Jya
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