Sunday, September 10, 2006


I'm bored, sick, and lonely...

Sporadic? Yes, but I'm just outlasting the next panic attack. Did I wish I could this far, sitting here in a bar, not drinking, but thinking, about the life I could have had. No, I'm contiplating my next move, a lyrical type groove, a way to improve my status in life. Through an art, or an act of inspiration. The torch is in my hands, I can hold. But for how long? I don't fit the mold, everything I do is "wrong". So step back from this reflection, and see the reaction, ten year later, when life is greater. When you have wings to fly away, when you can look back at this day, and say, "It wasn't so bad the things that were. Maybe this was just the lure." to learn humility, to express through creativity. To use the written word as a weapon, not to destroy but to exception, of hate, rape, murder, jelousy, theivery, exploitation, and phallucy. And when the clock turns, and I see myself, will I react how I want, be by myself, or will it haunt?! Is this an echo in to the future, or just a lame excuse to hide the shame of an unpainted picture?