The Royal Thinking Bowl

I bow my legs and focus them not to edge out as the girl walking right next to my cubicle rounds a corner and goes of into hers(which is right next to mine). And just at that moment I try to stay concentrated upon the shit I need to make, but she’s making all these weird scuffling sounds. Ah here goes, lemme listen, I can’t resist.

I listen to the same old thing going on down there, full tank-bursting-explosion-release-small sigh..tissue(where the fuck is the tissue!?) and she wipes her dry mop and leaves. Speaking of leaving, I need to leave.
The aforementioned thought lingers in my mind, yes I need to go to the spa day thats taking place in the student union and wrestle with about a million people for a massage, no, a free pen.
It brings me back to the days when I was a kid and all I could think about was getting face painted, but never really getting to the end of the line. I never got to the end of the line because the clown had a dire need to smoke a ciggie and eat some cake. I want to be face painted. I stand there lingering as I watch his clownish lines fade and a man’s mask take shape over his face- is he for real? I want my fucking face painted. I was 9

Stand up and go to the desk and ask for 3 massages Dramasque, just do it: One for your shoulders because they hurt from sleeping like a seal. Two, for the aching palms you have after writing at the speed of light in Math. Finally, a nice leg massage from snowboarding injuries. I can see the end of the line and as I expect it to be, I see about 30 people in front of me cueing up for aromatherapy. Dammnit! I look across at the next line and my feet start to move in my shoes but I tell them to shut up because I know when you leave one line it only starts getting faster as if you were the key heavyweight to the puzzle. Off load all 30 people and only 1 holds the train down. This is a really slow train to ride but I’d rather stay like fighting for a spot in a lucky winner draw.

I’m at war in the basket, I see my name scratched in there with about a million other names. I know I signed many lucky dips, I forced myself too but the more I think about it, the more I contemplate whether it was enough. Is it ever enough in a war. You fight with all the soldiers you’ve got and when their dead(which is supposed to be the restock limit) you restock and bring in more ammunition. My eyes dance around how many friends I can see in this crowd. In life, you have a few that can support you and eat shit with you. The ones who can’t eat shit with you are dining at the Hilton and signing cheques for charity cases like yourself. The more I think about it, I can’t see anybody, but if I did-I would tell he/she/he-she/or them to save me their spot too.

In war, if you can’t get what you intended to get, you go for the next best thing because what’s the use in stopping a full speed ahead train-like her piss-its explosive if you do. I’m tired again and I look at the ceiling for consolation, its neat sinewy lines only offer guidance. I am going eastward, westward, northward then southward, I will end up joining more lines and then I’m going to end up being just like the other ant lines running round and round and round. Proposterous, it is unbelievable that I can be at war and be an ant at the same time. Then, the idiot inside me goes to sleep and I know exactly what that means, Let me break it down for you as you watch me think on the toilet seat.

Life is a war of different ants, all trying to reach the top and moving at faster speeds than they can handle. One day, we will hit rock bottom and explode like hot piss and we’ll have to recover by looking for a new challenge. This war breaks us up because we rarely admit defeat and when we do were pissed and want revenge, an excuse to get back at others. Or were merely just tired like my shoulders aching more than they ever did in a line would, compared to when i first felt the pain in my shoulders. Or we give it all we’ve got and still fail-because war yields no positive purpose. I can’t challenge the basket of millions of names, they don’t know me and I don’t know them. So this final destination were going to in war-was never sacred and never will be wetter than when you first had the idea. This earth is dry with shitty causes of anger.

Thank you.
note:i wasn’t upset when writing this, just a creative thought 🙂 Have fun reading fans!

A place of mine own

A place of mine own that I can call my own,
A little place far from the realities of jealousy and betrayal,
Far from it all, in the middle of what I consider,
I consider a place of mine own to be.

Grapevines hanging and trees willow,
A golden throne for me and a red carpet singing welcome,
A new ride, a brick built mansion full of denim,
I would have lots of denim and my life would be complete,

A place of mine own doesn’t have to be anything,
Because anything is to specific and something is everything,
Now I feel that my everything is the only thing I can call my own,
I can swim in a place of mine own,

A huge cheque and a beautiful wife,
Lots of trucks full of candy and the sweetness of life,
My choice is my rule, a kingdom built in my honor,
I carry my choice in my cross and I never regret the profits,

A place of my own is different because its special,
I lay my ground and I expect the best results,
I score a test and I want A-grade results,
I want this place to be everything I envisioned for it.

I step without fear and dance with no steps,
I light fire in my path and my glare is the grace of gods landing upon human eyes,
A place of mine own is more than a human body,
A place of mine own is a human army,

I recreate, soldiers of war,
Give them guns and make them roar,
Plant them in my life and protect this sacred life,
Spin my web and lead as one where there’s supposed to be one.

I live a miraculous life andI am young at heart,
My chest beats with possibilities and the throbbing drives like drills,
The core is almost broken, escape of my soul,
A place of mine own without a leader, just an army

From All Good Things BaD tHings Stem

Like a flower attracts ugly,horrid bees. Is the same thing when it comes to my theory.
From all good things, bad things stem
I don’t want to be saddistic or anything but true to the fact, most people can’t help how they do things, what they say and how they think. Love, as i said, is not constant.It changes like our beings, ourselves and we become mirror images of what we never wanted. From love, stems jealousy, betrayel,lust and even,hate.
The world is spinning, thr orb is lingering, the feelings are NOT timeless.

Even education, where one person takes smarts to be an achievment of the highest value others say it could bring about overambition,overconfidence, vanity, boredom and possibly a life full of self-detest. I’m not trying to make you cry, I’m trying to make you realize how important absolution is.
If everything was absolute then there would be no need whatsoever to complain because there would be assurance and certainty over what we believe to be true and what we want to be true. Absolution is neccassary. But we don’t get that and neither do we get that the same girl/guy falling in love with us one day or fucking us cause their our lovers is actually a changing moment.

Socialism, how often do we see our friends come and go because their friendship became a sour betrayel, a painful lust, a daunting love, a fake promise, a distant past…I deleted my friends of facebook, at least most of them, the ones I kenw I wasn’t going to move forward with because it had reached a point where I kenw this friendship was past its due date, and any more perseverance or determination on my part would lead to a bad thing. Steve and I…bad thing. The fine line between being a confidant and being a lover grew so thin I couldn’t even see it. Now, when I talk to him on the phone, all I feel are his words piercing my back and the sadness that our friendship became a relationship in just a mere two months.

From all good things, bad things stem. Success becomes failure. Genious becomes madness. Hapiness becomes sadness. Hugs become punches. Marraige becomes murder. Food becomes leftovers. Alcohol becomes addiction. Sex becomes tiring….
the list is endless.
absolution…remains absolution. How do we gain that?