So A Friend Of Mine Told Me How Yesterday His Coworker Died On The Way To Work Due To Speeding And Crossed

Be me. Get notification about a like. Think, damn. I touched somebody’s soul with my words. 

Nah. Just a porn bot. 

The Internet was a bad idea but without it, cults would have to start the old fashioned way. 

The Internet was a bad idea but without it, her love never would have found me and traumatized me and murdered me and made me cry like a bitch. 

The Internet was a bad idea but without it, how the fuck would the Illuminati make us all sane? 

Yo. I’m broken like you but not in quite the same way but I bet you wanna piss in your boss’s Diet Coke too. No? You don’t? You can fuck off. 

Walking

Left the house and went out for a walk. 

I’m too sedentary. My life is way out of balance. I think I’m going to try to work back up to running. I think that would be good for me. 

Walked by a park. Saw a little girl on the playground. I realized we were making eye contact. I thought, this is awkward. Without thinking, I waved at her. She waved back. 

That was cool. 

Dad bod and the mind of a philosopher king.

It’s.. hey. I don’t really think I’m a king. It’s me being  braggadocious. 

Random embarrassing fact #1

When I was in high school, I used to play this game on the Internet called Harsh Lands. It was a MUD. Basically, it was this text based medieval game world with a heavy emphasis on in-character roleplaying. You stayed in-character. You talked like your character at all times no matter what. You did what your character did. My character was this deeply religious warrior who rose to the rank of Master Sergeant in The Tashal Watch. The Watch was the organization in charge of keeping the peace in the city of Tashal which was the largest city in the Kingdom of Kaldor as I recall. I was the highest ranking player character lawman so I was basically the law in that city. After I retired that character, I played a thug/enforcer type who was a member of the Lia Kavair. The Lia Kavair were basically a medieval Mafia. They were a den of thieves, assassins, racketeers. My character roughed people up who needed roughing up, extorted people, menaced people and on one occasion even killed someone. I remember spending a lot of time ruminating on this character's guilt for having taken a life to the point where I made myself pretty much a wreck in real life. I should mention something about death in this game. Death was permanent. If you died, there was no coming back and starting over after losing some gear or whatever. You were dead. As you can imagine, that made shit pretty intense at times. This sounds nerdy and dumb and it was but it was incredibly fun to collaborate with other people and create stories.

I get stoned enough, I'm honest. Smart honest. The kinda honest I can live with.

Maybe that's what I tell myself.

This is me writing garbage ain't nobody gonna hold me accountable for.

I don't know how to be. There ain't no fucking manual. Bring me a pizza every once in awhile and I'm good. Pizza and a whiff of sex. I'm good.

Nah. Shit. Maybe I sound like the Internet equivalent of that homeless dude rambling about some shit that makes no sense while he waits for a bus he doesn't have money for. That could be you. That could be me. Maybe your wits and your good looks and your talent and all that shit ain't gonna save you cuz you're just you. Look. I'm just me. It's aight. I love you. Okay. Maybe I won't say that again. Yo. We gotta believe a better world is possible.

Fuck. I'm getting sick of this. 10:29 PM Pacific Standard Time.

I feel lazy.

This is art, yo.

This is sugar.

This is late night truth.

This is finding the one true god again.

This is bullshit but it had its moments.

Should I read this again in the morning?

I just dropped in to see what condition my condition was in. 

I wish that line was mine. 

Thing is though. It doesn’t matter that it isn’t. 

Sometimes I wanna scream 

cuz I’m wise to the game. 

I know the game is rigged

but I ain’t wise to all the ways the game got put in me 

without my consent. 

I catch myself playin’. 

Hate myself for the size of my wages 

and the fact that my words ain’t commercial 

won’t pay my bills 

won’t free me from dreadin’ the first day of the week 

and from feelin’ all Shawshank on the last day of it. 

Stuff that’s hard to take

The suburbs and what came from them

the fact the world was made before I had any say in it 

the truth 

especially when I know it’s bullshit and I can’t get a refund on it 

when my words are bullshit 

when I don’t feel ‘em 

when I phone this shit in 

and when just having written just ain’t enough 

the stuff I can’t catch with my syllables 

but I want or need to catch 

See, that’s all this is. 

What you’re watching (if you’re still watching, who has time?) is me trying to do that 

Wondering if it’s too early to leave the office

Sunday afternoons  

Note to self

Need to reflect on the features in society that exacerbate or animate depression or other mental illnesses. The way out of the darkness clearly isn’t self-help or drugs. 

Before

C’mon, brother. I see you there. I see you every day. This is gonna sound weird. What the fuck is up with you? Look, I know these times broke your brain when they started. They did that cold thing to me. Deep chill. That feeling you get deep inside you when every heart you got in every dimension breaks at the same god damn time. I think we’re in a crucial time, man. I felt it when the madness started. I always asked myself if I’d be able to hack it when the time came. Torches. Flags. You taught me to fight my own way. You told me I had my own way. Yo, I think maybe I can hack it. 

Look, man. I’m not compromised. You can still trust me. I just see things a little differently.

Whatever, man. Fine. Let’s fight. No. I fucking mean it, asshole. Don’t even think of going easy on me like you used to. Try to kill me. I’ll try to stop you.

I’m talking crazy? You’re the one that thinks I’m working for them. I saw something in you, man. No. Look at me. Look at me. Fucking look at me or I am gonna kick your ass. 

See, you don’t believe it. If you really thought you couldn’t trust me, you’d have me tied in knots and begging for it to stop. 

You think I’m on another level. Thing is, I’m on an even higher level than you think. Brother, I saw something in you. I saw it and I knew that’s what I wanted to be. That’s all I’m doing. 

Got nothing? Fine. You know you can always come find me. Love you. 

I’m tryin’ to try

but if I die

I’m like, “Okay. Yeah.”

Sunday afternoons are a bad trip

without a sitter

without a map

without old men with kind eyes

who tell you exactly where the fuck you are

and how to get back home.