society scares me.
or so it was. trying to bother communicating with everyone at work can be a bit taxing. then i bust outa work and bust scott and myself to wal*mart and some goon he recognizes thinks he's "racing" us[i told scott not to give the bastard satisfaction and look at him. i still passed the fucker and got in front of his parentally-paid supiece]. then a bunch of punk ass looking kids at wally world outside.
but...after mellowing out at home. watching some thing about old people...78-year-olds doing yoga....for 2 seconds...i smile. then i see clerks...i chuckle. then i see my co-op receipt and see the co-op is owned by 1821 member-owners. depending upon the costs, i may very well be member-owner #1822. so i remember...
these bully ass punks are the minority. gotta shake them off. chill with and remember the chill. all in all, i'm reminded of two old pieces ah mine:
the dogs are running
rampant outside and
I have stayed in, safe
from the absurdities
they attempt to preserve--
namely themseleves as well
as the format they find
fitting for living.
while inside I may come
to own a pale complexision,
which I readily and avidly
accept, a lesser evil compared
to the pale perspective had
by those diminutive dogs that
doth dwell in places at least
loosely related to hell.
not to say that I am free
from association with fuzzy
relations of the underworld,
but to say that I know not to
veer my career towards ways which
would intertwine with these afore-
mentioned canine.
_____________________________________
you cannot tell
anyone everything,
let alone anything.
they will try to
sway saying: "hey!
it's this way, not that."
but that's what i'm
getting at. they know
the way no more
than you do.
but interaction and
observation of
others is some of
what is entailed in
taking the mind beyond
it's present placing.
this provides for a
difficult and wary
socialization[in every
apprehension of the word].
but...after mellowing out at home. watching some thing about old people...78-year-olds doing yoga....for 2 seconds...i smile. then i see clerks...i chuckle. then i see my co-op receipt and see the co-op is owned by 1821 member-owners. depending upon the costs, i may very well be member-owner #1822. so i remember...
these bully ass punks are the minority. gotta shake them off. chill with and remember the chill. all in all, i'm reminded of two old pieces ah mine:
the dogs are running
rampant outside and
I have stayed in, safe
from the absurdities
they attempt to preserve--
namely themseleves as well
as the format they find
fitting for living.
while inside I may come
to own a pale complexision,
which I readily and avidly
accept, a lesser evil compared
to the pale perspective had
by those diminutive dogs that
doth dwell in places at least
loosely related to hell.
not to say that I am free
from association with fuzzy
relations of the underworld,
but to say that I know not to
veer my career towards ways which
would intertwine with these afore-
mentioned canine.
_____________________________________
you cannot tell
anyone everything,
let alone anything.
they will try to
sway saying: "hey!
it's this way, not that."
but that's what i'm
getting at. they know
the way no more
than you do.
but interaction and
observation of
others is some of
what is entailed in
taking the mind beyond
it's present placing.
this provides for a
difficult and wary
socialization[in every
apprehension of the word].