I've grown used to having things of mine being taken away. accustomed to the absence, and the ashes can attest. seems I'm always taking stock on one hand, and losing sleep on the other. "Keep dreaming." you can fucking have them. gladly be the Insomniac if sleeping meant this. and everyone knows loss in one form or another. everyone is secretly being fermented by their own tiny burglaries. their own private bitterness. at some point in your life, someone cracked the safe, and made off with your loot.
Tuesday, January 6, 2015
Thursday, January 1, 2015
Dylan Thomas Told Me Not To Make A New Year's Resolution
I could easily give it all amiss and flail off into the negative degrees, my fat & pocked ass jitterbugging in the winter night, like a load of buckshot seeking shelter in ballistics gel. I could wish a universe of unaware beings a decent night; a paradigm of perception having nearly zero to do with myself. I could hope that Carson Daly was more adept at being the harbinger of a further 365 days of hardship and toil and hoping that being a white person doesn't quite suck so bad, despite the current prevalent hip-hop culture saturation. I could continue to love my little girl the way I do; placing her needs before mine, but yet being a wretched father. But, who the fuck am I to ask for such things, when there still remains Third World Countries in the world? What right do we have to complain? Fucking First World Problems...
And, by the way, what the fuck happened the The Second World?
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