Browsing Posts in Life

Oh! Sweet Nuthin’

Say a word for Jimmy Brown
He ain’t got nothing at all
Not a shirt right off his back
He ain’t got nothing at all
And say a word for Ginger Brown
Walks with his head down to the ground
They took the shoes right off his feet
And threw the poor boy right out in the street

And this is what he said
:
Oh sweet nuthin’
She ain’t got nothing at all
Oh sweet nuthin’
She ain’t got nothing at all
(Lou Reed)

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The independent and learned society is truly the manifestation of cognitive absurdity wrapped into the fecal intersection of life and emotional dysfunction.

Sweet nothing: this is what we’ve got. But I’ll give it a shot because that is the only option, right?

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Winding through the corridors of manipulation and hyperbole can be quite the tiring journey. As I contemplate and sit in the puddles of the vomit spewing from the heads of the State that I call my own, I have the epiphany of a freedom of inconsequential meanings. Through the varying layers of confusion and psychosis, I stumble about these corridors blindly yet acutely aware of my impending collapse and re-birth into the womb of consciousness.

Gaining professional experience after completing my dissertation on Urban Pharmacology, I walked and strolled about the streets in a state of self-identifying and self-ameliorating dissonance; the white boy in the world of the dark forces of Americana laid out on the dirty streets where the poor man drinks from the cup of dreams and promises that have yet to be fulfilled. continue reading…

   

Dancing in the Devil’s Playground

I just returned from Washington D.C. where, for the first time in this writer’s life, I experienced and participated in Democracy — Real American Corporate Democracy (amen to that brothers and sisters).

This is not to say that I have not voted, for indeed I have. In fact, I have voted in practically every election I have been eligible to vote in since I turned 18 in 1994. This is not to say that I have not written to my representatives and been a part of organizations that petition our government for reform, for indeed I have. I have taken the steps of a concerned and dedicated citizen given the options afforded to me to participate in the democratic process of the United States of America.

Where has this gotten me exactly? Quite honestly, it has not gotten me far as I do not have the voice and the high-priced lobbyists of the multi-national, multi-billion dollar corporations who have the ability to meet directly with the members of the House of Representatives and the members of the Senate to petition them for enacting or blocking legislation for the benefit of said Corporations. continue reading…

Well, I’m Beginning to See the Light.
Some people work very hard,
but still they never get it right.
Well, I’m beginning to see the light.

I wanna tell all you people, now.
Now, now, baby, I’m beginning to see the light.

Wine in the morning, and some breakfast at night.
Well, I’m beginning to see the light.

Here we go again,

I thought that you were my friend…

How does it feel, to be loved? (Reed)

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The light is lurking somewhere in the moment. Somewhere in the distance and beyond practical solutions and rational discourse is the home of the insufferable and indistinguishable light of consciousness.

Heroes come in many forms, though rarely among the wretched, the weary and the disgusting souls from beggar roots in Calcutta and Lima and Sao Paulo and Los Angeles.

Living in misery, squalor and filth; wholly disenfranchised from the universal perceptions of sustainability, the heroes are but of millions in a vast wasteland of the human capital left behind to rot in the pits of our own disregard.

Such is the lot of the human race. Such is the lot of our collective psyche.

If all life is indeed suffering and ending desire obliterates suffering, then what of the archetypes of our own construct that are inherent in humanity? continue reading…

   

Weird Scenes Inside the Silver Mine

In the haze of the desert sun, a blazing and stinging ray of energy permeating through the dirt and rocks; there were mountains and men and barrels of high octane byproducts of chemical bliss. Speeding and coursing through the conscious obliviousness of scattered desert mountains overlooking the mass of the flat ghettos below.

Drawing from the scripts of parallel associations between the conceptualizations of what were the real and material realities that leaped before my eyes and what were the mere illusions and mirages of a chemically induced paranoia of the creator’s grand design, I lived a brief existence as a Cowboy Silver Miner. Murder and mayhem and meth and the path toward ending my suffering by freeing myself of the desire that was omnipresent and attainable all at once; yet wholly stifling to the subconscious yearning to escape the bonds of servitude. continue reading…

I’ve got a restless feeling by my side
Early dawning, Sunday morning
It’s just the wasted years so close behind
Watch out, the world’s behind you
There’s always someone around you who will call
It’s nothing at all
Sunday morning and I’m falling
I’ve got a feeling I don’t want to know
Early dawning, Sunday morning
It’s all the streets you crossed, not so long ago
Watch out, the world’s behind you
There’s always someone around you who will call
It’s nothing at all
Sunday Morning.

Yet another Sunday morning by my side, yet another opportunity to spread the dystopic and eerily soothing voice of Lou Reed to the archetype of my subconscious .

Considering the kind words received from my Lou Reed-inspired prose, reverie, imagery and alliteration of last Sunday morning, perhaps this will be a weekly theme to showcase the depravity lurking inside a life defined by the darkness and light of perpetual psychic discontent. continue reading…

     
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