Browsing Posts tagged Lou Reed

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…

   

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…

   

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…

     

….the plotted lines the faulty map
that brought Columbus to New York
Betwixt between the East and West
he calls on her wearing a leather vest
the earth squeals and shudders to a halt

A diamond crucifix in his ear
is used to help ward off the fear
that he has left his soul in someone’s rented car
Inside his pants he hides a mop
to clean the mess that he has dropped
into the life of lithesome Juliette Bell

…I’ll take Manhattan in a garbage bag
With Latin written on it that says
‘it’s hard to give a shit these days’
Manhattan’s sinking like a rock
Into the filthy Hudson what a shock
They wrote a book about it
They said it was like ancient Rome
~ Lou Reed

I thought I would share a bit of Lou Reed prose from the song Romeo Had Juliette. I too am caught between the twisted stars in a life that seems not to be my own but a life in perpetual reverie of fear, regret and entangled self-entitlement by proxy.

As the politics of reaction dominate the national psyche, the global functions of systemic dissonance crumbling and the earth besieged by fossil fuels; it is indeed hard to give a shit these days as Mr. Reed pontificated. I try to give a shit yet I am irreparably torn between the two masks that I have displayed to the world at large. continue reading…

   
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