PARTYING WAYS

talk if you must but praying is more appropriate as I am not okay. Something is missing from my life. Something serious. Lemme look inside and see if I can find what it might be...

[ommmmmmmmm, ommmmmmmmmm] 

[shuffling around old junk, scrap metal]

[ommmmmmmmm, ommmmmmmmmmm]

is this it? money. no. money is the root of all evil. I will aviod money like the plegue to the point where I lose my facility and starve to death in order to help build something greater than myself after I am gone yet be a part of it, or at least starting it, until I cease to exist.... or croak. So many motherfuckers holding out there hands after a pointless display of small time jack-assery on stage, why won't they be something real? Speak from the mind-pool of the future why don't they? Instead of pulling shit from their past, or trying too hard to be cool and not be looked down on, do you know how hard it is to do something creatively innovative and technically modern and groundbreakingly new? HOw about something cool? This day and age is flooded with bullshit in all forms of fuck and fashion. Do you really have to end your life to be successful? Nope, fuck money. Not to talk too much shit. Thats not it. 

poison picked will be death of the tricked

poison picked will be death of the tricked

Poison not picked will be the death of the not tricked. Pick the shaft fallen down the pollen sunk the craft, sword-heavy wordsworth lady like hath picked doom out of the fight tonight. 

How many more times will I witness it before they take me? I'm not going to order a drink at the bar, nor would I be caught dead running game on a female specimen, I don't care how far her titties are haning out. Drink the blood of Christ and in doing so I choose death do us part. Love comes in the strangest of ways and like know how to use it yet butt-front mammoth in the corner of the room shedding tears in the likeness that He hasn't been around since the perimeter half-file has been broken. Love is a 4 letter word invented by a human, the meaning of it created by aliens, represented by blow in the fakest forum imaginable yet trigger the metamorphasis to phase three hundred times a thousand. Why I'd like a shirley temple on the rocks with a drizzle of shot to the head come latter the pill of morning doom lying face down on the bed tongue in throat magic happen all over again not to be revived cuz the one chosen to save is on fucking meth and doesn't know the difference between stubborn-ness and narcissism, and fuck the baby rascal in it's shallow butt-hole too. So adorable, The lip sink-ed rhymes have taken off the shirt of the innocent only to grave the efforts working whipping boy beat red-headed step-child of the industry comes back to fold out the carpet wished out in control of time and fortune and sorcery and death. Drink from the Holy Alter they'll eventually kill your ass on you fucking pig. Grab a movie while you live cuz movies are just figments of what your life will turn into before you realize that you are dead. Or dreams. 

[11-28-11]