I pretend I'm a writer when I'm not pretending I'm a rockstar. Both of these things may or may not take place in front of the bathroom mirror.
You probably have no idea what my posts are about, and that's the way I like it. True art fails to yield to analysis.
Self-indulgent biography, attempt at humor, pseudo-intellectual Nietzsche quote, etc. etc. etc.
aboyandhisthor asked: Ur stuff is weird, dude. But I love Operation XX
Thanks, on both counts. :D
Picking Dead Flowers: We Brave the Sideways Spiral
Together we’ve seen terror. Every threat short of eternity was thrust in our paths, and as we stumbled, we discovered buried treasure [just like the map said, hex marks the spot.] Enlightenment comes in a razor-edged case and we grew new fingers when our bloody stumps broke the gift free. Through agony and withdrawal of faith, our stubborn energy forced regeneration. Look towards the flock. They live in splendor under blankets of false hope, shielded from stark realities and the ultimate truth. A herd so blind, branded by submission, untouched and not whole all at once. They never had to bleed for an answer, never saw rebirth in the wake of cancer. This anguish is a shield from ignorance. When our sky is obliterated, those who have seen life’s harshness will follow it, hand in hand, deep into oblivion. Viva anxiety. I’ll come home soon.
Uncle Sam’s Industry of Dishonesty (This One Goes Out to Innocent Ignorance)
Miserable minions of the world, grab the nearest tree and hug as hard as you fucking can. Squeeze until your eyes go bloodshot, until your straining limbs issue tears from the leaves. You’re pouring the elixir right down the drain, drowning your own cure. You’ve left the swine asleep at the troff and they’ll eat themselves alive when the sun comes up.
How far we haven’t come, my conspiring comrades. At the doorstep of Utopia there’s a welcoming committee of riot police and random strip searches. The Garden of Eden has surveillance video, keeping an eye on the animals. How can we commit sins effectively when all we have is forbidden fruit? We’re following orders with our fingers crossed behind the backs you stab, and we’d change our minds but you’ve made it clear that you’ll do that for us, too.
Needless to say, I won’t be attending the history book burning. I refuse to stick to new tradition, to fall in line with the masked parade of pawns. If there’s any God to speak of, he’ll choke you with the vapor cascading through passages and out between my cracked, grinning lips. I am the future for your past of misadventure. Let’s drag our sacred children by their tails through fields of truth. Let’s bring home the hero and lie through not a single tooth. We’re all sick of waking up in fear of life, someone said this was supposed to be the Promised Land.
Companion v. 3.0: Personifying Pandemonium
Your pristine features scream pretension like silicon valley, yet I can’t help this viral attraction. I’m the moth headed full-speed for a star, quenching a thirst for Ursa Major. You’re scorching my wings, supernova that you are. I want to fill your lungs with bitter, ancient breath. I want our blood to be the same: approaching boiling, steaming up our vessel walls like windshields facing the evening horizon. Let’s soak up the darkness when the sky shuts down, when Armageddon laughs that skepticism right back into our post-apocalyptic faces. We’ll hold hands until the flames fuse them shut and our genes make final contact. When the sun eats us whole we’ll face consumption together, choking as lovers do.
Tracking the Tempest: The Audience Pleas Continuation
I call her the angel that’s bound to the earth, she joined my existence and graced it with worth. The fortune that I’ve been presented with is unbelievable.
Her name is the sweetest thing I’ve ever said, and the things that she calls me go straight to my head. I’ve surfaced from sinking, a task that I thought unachievable.
She’s the purpose in life I’ve been looking for, and my pilot for starting anew. My guardian madame, the Eve to my Adam, a dream I dismissed that I find coming true.
I’ve been running for miles and searching through files to track down my equal and finish the sequel to all of the shortcomings, roadblocks and ghosts of my past.
I looked in all corners, I damned near went crazy. The fact that I found you won’t cease to amaze me. We’re wonderful, perfect and beautiful. Please let it last.
Limbo’s Lover with the Crimson Lips
Today, I opened my mouth at the wrong time and hell poured out [it was right where I left it.] Medics were rushed to the scene at the speed of a California wildfire, and the burn ward overflowed with eager contestants in the skin graft sweepstakes. You should’ve been there for the dazzling display; everyone in attendance walked away with a brand new scar. We’ve got more great prizes where that came from. Next week we’re waking the dead and each household is equipped with decay. This winter’s forecast includes six feet of ashfall - just enough to conceal the corpses strewn across this city’s sidewalks. Look what I’ve done to our beautiful junkyard! I must’ve gotten up on the wrong side of the guillotine. Someone spiked the office coffee with alcohol and other evils. This whole block was ancient anyway; hopes fossilized, dreams extinct… I did what any demon would do.
Tracking the Tempest: In Honest Utterance, I Stole Away the Air
Article A: Setting Up the Scenery
Upon arrival and in preparation for departure, I whispered a plea for reciprocated affection. [I didn’t expect you to meet me halfway on this road.] Navigation features cut out from the second I pulled onto the highway and I just so happened to find you hitchhiking… you looked so beautiful there, waving down traffic, but I couldn’t let you stand out in the rain. We’re past that now, and it’s been what feels like two and a half centuries since I’ve felt such comfortable companionship.
Article B: It’s Kind of a Sensitive Topic
Damaged and raveled in a dilapidated capsule, our emotions practicing domination, I wrestled the road for your undivided attention. Your presence commands divine knowledge; you deserved to know which walls you’d knocked down. I’m not even calling in the crew for renovation, that structure was pleading for swift demolition. You make an adorable wrecking ball.
Article C: 143 A.D.
This is where I found my heart beating again, despite all previous claims. The truth is, I couldn’t sleep another night with this secret warming my sheets and burning me in my dreams [as well as those in which you accepted my offer.] Prayers for a mutual answer were met with the grace of a foreign god… I’m so glad you feel that way. I told you what I think, kid. [This is the best idea we’ve ever had.]
Companion v. 3.0: Mercy Verses
A. The World’s Most Beautiful Roadblock
Here I am again in the same place I’ve been before
I recognized the decor the second I opened the door
Somebody told me I was going elsewhere,
they led me up a huge hill but I didn’t find a house there.
What I did find was more of what I was running from
And I’ll admit in hindsight that I was fucking dumb.
I couldn’t tell my pistol from my hunting gun,
and I ran half-cocked into a paradise of dope and bloody gums.
Well I’m a cunning one, I planned a great escape as my saving grace
But I made a change of pace on a famous date
Her name was fate and I submitted without a fight,
she dug her way in deep and foiled my plans on independence night.
So now it’s back to the drawing board, but the lead snapped
just when I thought I had a moment to put my head back.
My path’s a telephone call that the feds tapped,
and she’s the undercover agent busting my meth lab.
But her appearance was a fortunate setback,
I had all my emotions covered up like a lens cap
F that, I’m not the type to keep it bottled up
My pen writes and blows through red lights like the throttle’s stuck.
And it’s not like I’m outta luck, my fortune’s just beginning
My head’s spinning from the way she always eases stress and keeps me grinning.
She’s the reason I aborted my retreat,
Botched my disappearing act, but failure never felt so damned sweet.
Life is a stampede, and it’s easy to get trampled
and these 23 years have only been a fuckin’ sample,
and existence is a game that you never get to practice.
I finally have a hand I can hold through the madness.
I had built the walls back up around my heart,
but when the real angel descended, she ripped them apart.
She took the sadness from the songs, repaired the damage done
and she’s dismantling everything that I was running from.
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Companion v 3.0: Admiration Apparation
Unreal… that’s a good word for it. You’re a figment of my imagination, but you’re right in front of me, silencing my expectations like a constant sonic boom. Even my realest dreams pale in comparison, my artist’s mind untrained in designing perfection.
Some self-absorbed scholar probably said that the road to happiness doesn’t come with a map, but I never needed one. Directions are irrelevant; this aimless path led me to you and I still don’t even know where the hell I am. We can fully dismiss the possibility of departure on those terms alone.
Much like finding the desert’s famous lake mirage to be real, this is refreshment, only in the form of companionship [I’ve been more than thirsty for this.]
Give me one good reason to stop reminding you that you’re amazing and I’ll give you a thousand more terms for it.
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