what is god to the masses anyway, like the taste of saline to the sea.
sterile and only used ornamentally, to most of us anyway, over here in heathen land anyhow.
i am trying not to be so disinterested but i'm not having much luck.
Realestate is too expensive, and i am broke, this is not good for being in the city, whats the use of having great skills and fortuity if you cannot earn money, your honesty translates as simplicity and every hack down the way takes a peice, you either become indeed simple or as cruel and opportunistic as them.
And then you are ripping of people who may have been having an honest moment and then the cycle starts again and keeps going on and on.
I was honest once but now i've learned to just be quiet.
petite a petite i am learning this modern reason that abounds the city scapes and rips the bonds of resistance to cheap thrills and moral degradation. That enforces the will of the many and crushes the individual of their chance to fuck up and learn the cut stings and the break takes time.
it's been a while sinse i was on here this computer making words into verse,
in the time since last time, i have:
had a freestyle rap battle with a mate and as a result he doesn't talk to me anymore,
and it wasn't even personal it was but not momma jokes yet.
am being ignored by another friend because i talked my mind about a mutual friend who has dependancy issues.
done about eight quotes and not got one job yet, well maybe one this week.
have painted a lot of pictures of various things human and not so human.
joined a band,
formed a band
relyed solely just about on the goodwill of lentil as anything for my tucker, because i 'm broke,
i consider my current debt to society level as i have been tuning RAHRAHRAH radio (rrr) and it's comunity love is all up there in my braine.
silconed my fireplace because there is a dead mouse in there and the wind comes down the chimney and blasts fetid death zephyrs into my sleeping nostrils.
saw my father and talked about what to do with family land.
if the bush was too quiet there would be fear without seeing a fearful creature.
i didn't make up the last line but everything else i am guilty your honor,
the title is what happened when i listened to charlie parker,
art is living made visible
i'll shut up here's a photo
|This is where i spent weekends as a child. Mostly happy, mostly up the coconut trees or in the bat caves|