My fingers are fast and hungry to expresses the possive thoughts behind their...
Music is a great sound track
and I write a little now...
Yes... lost... yes lost
now in the words...
oh man....
you'll get it in a moment...
yes...
that's right
you dosed yourself again...
yep... you defiant... whatever however you spell it
you did it!!!
and it's hilarious...
this was the thought I had while so caught up with writing a joint which lead to writing wich leads to join.... yes and you get it a never ending circle... cycle... whatever cyle......
wowa
i feel more focused... but I'm not sure if what I'm feeling is a good thing....
it's strange... it's concept and over all theme has been empowerment and
embrace and letting go.... funny how the proficiey of my writting
as I become more and more unsure...
So Sorry,
I didn't mean to leave
you hangin
a blur...
It's funny I am wide awake
and knew this was coming
I slept in the day before
knowing what I was doing...
I remember the day
so well... and music
is there to tell...
my mind feels
rested and adjusted
to the task at hand
to try and write
something...
yes I would like
to say what substance
is and write about it
and in it
in languish
and with regard,
but find the general
to be much
less of a messy
issue
and tare through
this tissue
for something
to save me and
not miss you.
Like the static
at the ends of my hands
the screen
begins to blur
and my mind drives me
on and I shake
my head
in confidence?
or knowing?
I'm not sure
the words
are apt at
describing
my uncertainty,
you see I see
the problem to its
end and I tend
to fend
and pretend
that language
that I am written
isn't already written
in language for me
to write.
I sight,
that I cannot disregard
that I am suppose
to come to
these contemplections
from inflections
of my own voice,
but wonder
where this tre-pid
act does take me.
Or is it still
the music taking
me places?
yet again.
I try and let my
external
senses go
and find
...
that my eyes
wonder and
my fingers type my thoughs
a f reew
oi
I am a void floating in Joe Andersons room
looking at the things on his wall... the photos and and the sights
the depict and feel how they have some what familure, but
unfamilure texture
in the way the feel
I looked at the page...
ou can tell..
I goet
you get that all ready
I'm flaoting again
and they photos are coming alive
and I am bein g being
taken frame by brame there
I shake
uncontrollably
rather I tremble a
thought and feeling away
I let it go as much
as want it to run.
I am back to the page...
I have no idea what I wrote,
but am going to try and
slow down and think
about what I am typing a little more
...
Wow... I wonder
if I should edit out the tripped out
lol...
ya,
it's not possible...
lol
I suppose I meant for later....... phhh
But later how
are you going to know
what you actually wanted
to say isn't
any different than this?
How are you going to know?
lol....
See this is the danger of being unfocused with this stuff...
It is easy to let the mind loose...
but after you doo...
I mean shit....
what do you do
after you turn on...
and there you are...
what then?
I mean I think I'm there
I'm pretty much
concious that
we are people
and can say
I know at least
something
about each other
I may not know everything,
but I know that
it'll be fun
to try and
figure...
and that's it...
really.
No not really I continue to write...
I am quite awake...
this little dance could have ended there...
but the simple
fact of the matter
is a
simple change
in music wil
definately do it
wow... it
was even difficult
to come back to the
page...
It's like
I had to force myself
to it out of rage...
or something
so primal...
but I dunno...
whatever
these rymes
are going
to be haunting me,
I guess I've
known
what it was
like back in
The city.
Dirty trash
and fury,
added a little
cash
and I'll
hurry.
Cause this
city does it
and cuts it
cuts just
don't stop!
Wow and see
this what I am
talking about...
a little blibble
and little blabble
why can't
your hand's
famthom
the fvaulyou...
wow it was really hard to write that last word....
but you get it
I know you do
cause
you have
done it too
you've
dip and
taken two!
What a little tribute...
wow do I become
a shamed
to blame
that this is
all in the name
of art...
or am I about
to start
and thinking
drugs
are for thugs
and that's
why I do em?
screw em?
No that's not me
that was never me
please officer
I'm telling the
truth,
just wait
let me call
you'll
see...
I'm not him,
I'm me!@!
And the music still changes and
rearranges...
I can't believe I would
want this utter sketch
to be written upon a page...
I guess I should
cry knowing
that the day has come
that I feel compelled
to put a disclaimer
on me....
on my voi...
on who I am
nothing seems to describe myself
very well.... I am me...
Wow that was kind of
self indulgent...
tisk tisk and task task
you can't think
of anything better
than what my
hurrass the brass
off her panties
and not be discouraged
by the frowns
and the lies,
thinks of them
like flies
and tries
to forget em
....
The tea
I poured
before going to smoke the last joint
is now much cooler and I am able
to imbibe it much
more simply...
And it still
dawns on me
that this is still
the beginning
and that just
by listening to
myself here
once more tomorrow
when I read
what it is I have
written
and thought about here
is simple delight
enough for me?
Am I that simple of an animal?
I think I might be...
lol...
The inflections
and force
I give the intonations
behind
the words I write
I come to starnge
conclusion
and my fingers
seem to stumble
deft/daftly accross
the page...
or rather the keys
of this keyboard...
I actually feel
at this very moment
the true sum of my existence
gathered before my finger
tips and I can feel
myself write this
or at least I believe
this and still don't know what to
say...
I mean I am
saying things, but
all nothing really...
This has always worried me
writting
with reckless purpose...
but i dont
think I have ever
written about it...
funny,
do I
find that this
is some how
an affirmative of
me becoming a
scough... cough....
a writer...
I look at William Butler Yeat's portrait on
Joe Anderson's desktop
and no that this moment
might be as real
to creating
anything
real as real...
so there...
lol
Wow...
I really do need
to justify
a lot of shit to myself...
I should chill out
more and think less...
I think that is
what I have been
pretty much been
doing with my existence
and the double
edged
beast that is
juxtiposition
comes baring
down her
us that
at times I feel like
I have done this too much
I guess this is
more than
probbably true..
maybe partially...
I suppose...
but I wonder
and I decompose
rather than
just decay
and dance
party to grey...
and what do I think
I am better than them?
I suppose a little...
to be honest...
but no more
than I suppose
they might feel
over me...
I do not like
the preasure
or the eyes
and feel
the need to
chill and read....
maybe what I've already
written...
I'm a little smitten...
and will post what I have....
enjoy andrew... you wrote this for you....
but you already know this isn't going to help you...
and I feel it...
I need a break from the page...
and am going to give it to myself
and I write a little now...
Yes... lost... yes lost
now in the words...
oh man....
you'll get it in a moment...
yes...
that's right
you dosed yourself again...
yep... you defiant... whatever however you spell it
you did it!!!
and it's hilarious...
this was the thought I had while so caught up with writing a joint which lead to writing wich leads to join.... yes and you get it a never ending circle... cycle... whatever cyle......
wowa
i feel more focused... but I'm not sure if what I'm feeling is a good thing....
it's strange... it's concept and over all theme has been empowerment and
embrace and letting go.... funny how the proficiey of my writting
as I become more and more unsure...
So Sorry,
I didn't mean to leave
you hangin
a blur...
It's funny I am wide awake
and knew this was coming
I slept in the day before
knowing what I was doing...
I remember the day
so well... and music
is there to tell...
my mind feels
rested and adjusted
to the task at hand
to try and write
something...
yes I would like
to say what substance
is and write about it
and in it
in languish
and with regard,
but find the general
to be much
less of a messy
issue
and tare through
this tissue
for something
to save me and
not miss you.
Like the static
at the ends of my hands
the screen
begins to blur
and my mind drives me
on and I shake
my head
in confidence?
or knowing?
I'm not sure
the words
are apt at
describing
my uncertainty,
you see I see
the problem to its
end and I tend
to fend
and pretend
that language
that I am written
isn't already written
in language for me
to write.
I sight,
that I cannot disregard
that I am suppose
to come to
these contemplections
from inflections
of my own voice,
but wonder
where this tre-pid
act does take me.
Or is it still
the music taking
me places?
yet again.
I try and let my
external
senses go
and find
...
that my eyes
wonder and
my fingers type my thoughs
a f reew
oi
I am a void floating in Joe Andersons room
looking at the things on his wall... the photos and and the sights
the depict and feel how they have some what familure, but
unfamilure texture
in the way the feel
I looked at the page...
ou can tell..
I goet
you get that all ready
I'm flaoting again
and they photos are coming alive
and I am bein g being
taken frame by brame there
I shake
uncontrollably
rather I tremble a
thought and feeling away
I let it go as much
as want it to run.
I am back to the page...
I have no idea what I wrote,
but am going to try and
slow down and think
about what I am typing a little more
...
Wow... I wonder
if I should edit out the tripped out
lol...
ya,
it's not possible...
lol
I suppose I meant for later....... phhh
But later how
are you going to know
what you actually wanted
to say isn't
any different than this?
How are you going to know?
lol....
See this is the danger of being unfocused with this stuff...
It is easy to let the mind loose...
but after you doo...
I mean shit....
what do you do
after you turn on...
and there you are...
what then?
I mean I think I'm there
I'm pretty much
concious that
we are people
and can say
I know at least
something
about each other
I may not know everything,
but I know that
it'll be fun
to try and
figure...
and that's it...
really.
No not really I continue to write...
I am quite awake...
this little dance could have ended there...
but the simple
fact of the matter
is a
simple change
in music wil
definately do it
wow... it
was even difficult
to come back to the
page...
It's like
I had to force myself
to it out of rage...
or something
so primal...
but I dunno...
whatever
these rymes
are going
to be haunting me,
I guess I've
known
what it was
like back in
The city.
Dirty trash
and fury,
added a little
cash
and I'll
hurry.
Cause this
city does it
and cuts it
cuts just
don't stop!
Wow and see
this what I am
talking about...
a little blibble
and little blabble
why can't
your hand's
famthom
the fvaulyou...
wow it was really hard to write that last word....
but you get it
I know you do
cause
you have
done it too
you've
dip and
taken two!
What a little tribute...
wow do I become
a shamed
to blame
that this is
all in the name
of art...
or am I about
to start
and thinking
drugs
are for thugs
and that's
why I do em?
screw em?
No that's not me
that was never me
please officer
I'm telling the
truth,
just wait
let me call
you'll
see...
I'm not him,
I'm me!@!
And the music still changes and
rearranges...
I can't believe I would
want this utter sketch
to be written upon a page...
I guess I should
cry knowing
that the day has come
that I feel compelled
to put a disclaimer
on me....
on my voi...
on who I am
nothing seems to describe myself
very well.... I am me...
Wow that was kind of
self indulgent...
tisk tisk and task task
you can't think
of anything better
than what my
hurrass the brass
off her panties
and not be discouraged
by the frowns
and the lies,
thinks of them
like flies
and tries
to forget em
....
The tea
I poured
before going to smoke the last joint
is now much cooler and I am able
to imbibe it much
more simply...
And it still
dawns on me
that this is still
the beginning
and that just
by listening to
myself here
once more tomorrow
when I read
what it is I have
written
and thought about here
is simple delight
enough for me?
Am I that simple of an animal?
I think I might be...
lol...
The inflections
and force
I give the intonations
behind
the words I write
I come to starnge
conclusion
and my fingers
seem to stumble
deft/daftly accross
the page...
or rather the keys
of this keyboard...
I actually feel
at this very moment
the true sum of my existence
gathered before my finger
tips and I can feel
myself write this
or at least I believe
this and still don't know what to
say...
I mean I am
saying things, but
all nothing really...
This has always worried me
writting
with reckless purpose...
but i dont
think I have ever
written about it...
funny,
do I
find that this
is some how
an affirmative of
me becoming a
scough... cough....
a writer...
I look at William Butler Yeat's portrait on
Joe Anderson's desktop
and no that this moment
might be as real
to creating
anything
real as real...
so there...
lol
Wow...
I really do need
to justify
a lot of shit to myself...
I should chill out
more and think less...
I think that is
what I have been
pretty much been
doing with my existence
and the double
edged
beast that is
juxtiposition
comes baring
down her
us that
at times I feel like
I have done this too much
I guess this is
more than
probbably true..
maybe partially...
I suppose...
but I wonder
and I decompose
rather than
just decay
and dance
party to grey...
and what do I think
I am better than them?
I suppose a little...
to be honest...
but no more
than I suppose
they might feel
over me...
I do not like
the preasure
or the eyes
and feel
the need to
chill and read....
maybe what I've already
written...
I'm a little smitten...
and will post what I have....
enjoy andrew... you wrote this for you....
but you already know this isn't going to help you...
and I feel it...
I need a break from the page...
and am going to give it to myself