Well another day down I have felt really good the last couple of days.  Why?  No idea.  I have consciously been trying to change my attitude as I really dont have it that bad at all, its all in your head.  Last night in a meeting I was listening to this older guy who was fighting back tears just go off the hook.  He was fed up with his life, his wife left him 30 days ago, his house was on the market to sell, he lost his job, and was living back with his senior citizen parents.  It was his 7th week in treatment, I assume he still had insurance as I dont know how else he would have been able to afford it.  He kept on talking about sitting alone in a bedroom with a bottle of gin.

You can almost feel the emotion in the room when something like that is going on, a bit like a static charge.  Hopefully he expelled it by dumping all his thoughts out on us.  He continually stressed the point that he was successful in his business life and he said everything just started to seem like it was a fruitless effort.  He said he just stopped caring about life and set out to drink himself to death.  I was sitting right next to him thinking about what kind of new shoes I want.  Maybe I do that so I dont get caught up in his emotions or maybe I have heard hundreds of these ‘guys’, ‘girls’, ‘kids’ express the same thing.  Destruction of the self.   A continual grasp for money, all while letting his family fall apart.  I couldn’t help but imagine scenes from the movie, Leaving Las Vegas.  He was an alcoholic but the other week he did mention that it was cocaine that was the real nail in the coffin.

I dont know why I still go to meeting perhaps to remind myself that things are not that bad for me at all and they could always get ALOT worse quick.  I have to find some more positive events to take up my well being, like a girlfriend.  Part of my brain is telling me that all the suggestive negative behavior and emotions I hear at meetings do have some influence on my own psychological well being.  Even a 10th grader knows your environment is a major factor in your health.  The power of suggestion even cloaked suggestion eventually starts to effect ones own self.  So yeah its possible that AA/NA meetings have had a negative repercussion on my over all health lately.  Do the negatives outweigh the positives though?

It could be the weather that is adding to my depressive state, although I hate to even label it as depressive as I am just plain lazy and not getting out enough or doing enough positive exercise to elevate my mental health.  Plus I am pretty sure the majority of all this ‘blah-ness’ is just long-term PAWS [post acute withdrawal symptoms].  My last psychiatrist was not kidding when he said it might take 1-2 years for my body to rebound fully from the long term  benzo therapy I was on.  He was hesitant to even but a time frame on it as he said it would be ‘suggestive’ and I completely agree.  Oh well, I have to start somewhere.  First school, than a girlfriend, than a job, than back to the real world.  Just my luck when I finally get my shit together watch, the world will start to really get hit with its destructive forces and society as I know it will cease to be.  Or rather I should say society/reality as I view it as my reality is a little bit different than most.

I wish it was warmer so I could go on a nice bike ride as I definitely miss that.  I have been telling myself that I need to start lifting weights.  Mainly to get those chemical reactions to start to occur more readily in my brain besides it couldnt hurt to get a little more physically fit.  Schools going well but I am lacking discipline lately for just sitting down and doing basic studying, [staying on top of my readings, outlining and writing down notes outside of class] as I find when I do that outside of classroom notes/lectures the information tends to stick a little easier.  My classes are populated with young girls, too young.  I have one during my M/W/F classes that is in the same first two classes as me and sits right next to me.  She has kinda been hitting on me or at least being very friendly but I dont know I am just rambling on the computer instead of homework.

I bought a new book today, ‘An Exorcist Tells His Story’ by Gabriele Amorth.  Father Gabriele is the renowned chief exorcist of Rome.  The book is very intriguing and its one of those hard to put down books.  I havent been reading to much for my own personal pleasure as of late and I still have a stack of unread brand new books that I havent even cracked the covers of.  Plus a couple left over Borders gift cards left.

I have been having good dreams the last couple nights.  Usually after I lay down and say prayers I can get in a meditative state where if I focus on just a single image from my dreams I can most of the time get a pretty vivid recall of a big chunk of dreams.  I have always been able to do that but with repeated practice it comes easier.  Last night I woke up exactly at 5:03 am and was pulled out of a dream where I was inspecting loose cut unmounted diamonds.  Some were a pale yellow color and most were clear.  My head was jumbled with the different grading terms upon waking, VVS1, VVS2, VS2, SI1, etc.  I also had the feeling of some kind of ghosts or spirits were around me, I say ghosts because they gave off a negative feeling.  Not scared but a slight uneasy feeling.  I took a mental note to remember and I still have a vivid recall there but it was just a brief memory.

The night before I was in some sort of an airport lounge waiting for a plane but it wasnt normal.  It seemed as if the airline did not have a definite ownership, kinda like ‘rouge air’.  The world outside didnt look or seem like there was destruction about but I got the sense that there was some sort of turmoil.  It seemed lawless as if there was nobody in control.  I could see water and it was calm and a tranquil teal color.  The person on duty taking tickets was standing behind a window that had bars on it.  Me and a friend who’s face and personality are a blur to me were just hanging out in the lounge, kicking our feet up on chairs.  There was a group of 4-5 girls that were being aggressive in a sexual manner, nothing happened though that I recall.  We finally boarded the flight and next thing you know I recall being in a neighborhood that I have been to many times but only in my dreams.  There were big rolling green hills.  Thats all that is popping into my head at the moment.



I am watching the Golden Globe pre-show what ever, you know where everybody shows of what there wearing.  No surprise that boredumb has permeated my life.  Maria Carey has her own brand of champagne oh god.  I wonder what pills she has in her system?  I definitely know she is hitting the booze.  What is coming next…  The party pack, Voluptuous Valium – watch your cares slide off your back .   I have always had this little crush on Tina Fey.  For some reason I am attracted to those type of girls, i.e the librarian that is completely different than she seems.  Something about that quiet, mousey type of girl does something for me.

I just dosed my bupe and I can taste that orangey drip in the back of my throat.  I can almost feel it flipping some molecular switch in the organic mess I call my brain.  Since school has started I have switched to dosing twice a day.  .5mgs in the morning and .5mg in the evening.  I dont like dosing twice a day because I catch myself thinking more often…  Ahh I kinda feel a little achy…  Or  No wonder why my appetite is lacking I didnt take my bupe.  I am always a sucker for convincing myself I need a bump or so.

Neil Young is pouring out of my speakers, I havent changed a CD in months.  I just mainly listen to music off my ipod but when I do turn it up loud it just doesnt sound quite as good as CD quality.  God I really dont have much to talk about as my social life has gone thru its own drastic detox over the past year.  I have no urge to go out and get drunk and bounce from bar to bar.  I liked doing that when I was 19 or 20 and now I am getting old at 33.  One thing I dont like about going out is running into people I havent seen in a while, most people would like that I think?  But I am not most people.  A friends band played this weekend at a little bar and I decided not to go I feel a little guilty about that and the deciding factor in that decision was the bar that it was held at.  They tried to kick me out of their bar years ago for no good reason, they said I was selling drugs.  As if…  to whom?  My friends?  Fuck off.  They didnt take to kindly to that and I consciously avoid that bar with a passion.

Although about 5 months ago I decided to stop in there and have a couple beers and watch a Cubs game but who is serving the beer?  Some freakin’ dickhead bartender that obviously remembers me and told me I was not allowed to be there.  I debated going into there in the first part as I sat in my car listening to the radio on a rainy weekday night in a church parking lot.  It was either another AA meeting or I could actually do what I wanted.  Rather not really what I wanted to do but it was something that would pass the time.  Maybe I consciously chose that bar with the thought I wouldn’t get served.  Thank god it was empty as that is embarrassing when the bartender gives you some lip and says no beer for you.  Whatever punk.

My friends band is going to play in 2 weeks at a much nicer place and I will just wait untill than.  So the highlight of my weekend?  Probably stopping by the library as they were having a sale.  Selling all of there back issues of magazines, I bought a huge stack of ‘New York’ for like 2 dollars.  They have kept me busy all weekend when I should be outlining the reading I have in some of my classes.

I could ramble on about useless stuff but I dont really feel like it.  I do wonder when the hell am I going to find a girlfriend that I am intrigued by?  Sometimes I wonder…  What if I already meet whom I should marry?  Girlfriends come and go but its a little bit of a dry patch I am hitting lately.  I have told myself I am going to change the modus operandi concerning finding a girl as I am tired of waiting for a girl to pick up on me.  The last string of past girlfriends have been the ones to pick me up and I am talking like the last 10 or so g/f’s.  There is something I find attractive about the woman being the aggressor but it also makes me question if I am just settling for someone that likes me.  I am getting better but sometimes I just dont know.  My nerves are wrecked.  I probably sound like a pussy.

Such is life eh…?  Instead I will listen to Jamiroquai and put on some fresh clothes and go to a AA meeting because I have nothing better to do.  ARGH!  Things could be so much worse and I have been concentrating on being content but its hard when you feel like there are a few things missing in life.  Fake it till you make it?  I dont really find any comfort in that phrase or motto.  It kinda just seems like a cop out.  I need a hair cut.



I had a hard time sleeping last night, I was haunted by memories of old girlfriends.  Well not so much them but more-so the memories of how much of a fuck-up I was.  It makes my stomach twist in a knot and I feel like an empty shell, an earth going vessel with no port insight or in mind.  So what do I do?  I get up and go look at some old notebooks/scrapbooks/photos which in turn makes me wince at my behavior back than.  Those memories are some of my most depressing.  I try not to think about those days but I guess I long for yesterdays.  Once I get that thought train rollin’ in my head its pretty hard for me to derail it.

Yeah I have definitely made some stupid ass decisions in my life many of which came when I was under distress from self-induced drug addiction.  Which is absolutely no excuse but yet I kinda use it as an excuse.  I have apologized to a few of them but that did nothing to ease my mind nor did I apologize for my benefit.  Who knows what they think/thought of me?  I am a firm believer that everything happens for a reason and I stick to that motto when I have thoughts like these as it makes everything feel just a bit better.  It makes me feel like God has stuck his fingers in my life and swirled it around a little bit.  Is that some sort of twisted rationalization on my part?  I don’t care because I do believe it.  I know I am being a bit vague about the memories I am talking about and thats one thing that bugs me sometimes when I am reading things other people write.  I also dislike when people share at a AA/NA meeting and they are vague, I want to scream… WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT, shit.  Anyways moving on.  I can’t even remember what it was I came here to get away from.

Christmas, fun fun fun…  I cant wait for it to be over.  This has probably been the worst year of my life thank God its coming to a close.  I really can not remember last Christmas I was a grade A wreck.  Sketched out from speed [losing it mentally], hopelessly addicted to benzos, and a handful of other OP8 pharmy pills.  My pharmacy bill each month could have been a mortgage payment, or a rent payment.  I probably couldn’t go more than 3-4 hours with out medicating myself.

So sad looking back on it.  It was almost like I had a death wish but the cruel joking universe wouldn’t let me die.  I will tell you though thru my whole life of drug addiction nothing was as scary as how badly amphetamines fucked with me, nothing like losing your mind and watching it unfold like some TV sitcom stuck on fast forward.  Amp’s struck a chord in me that reverberated thru every cell in my body.  Shaking my brain so badly I didnt know which way was up, I sure know which way is down now though.  I dont know why I write about this stuff nobody really reads it, I guess its more of a purge of thoughts or puking of negative thoughts?   I do like documenting my life either in hand written journals or via the internet.  Why?  I guess I could say so that others would learn from my mistakes but thats not altogether true but just a bonus.  I like being able to look back and re-read my life, the good, the bad, and the ugly.  Plus it feels good when I write something that strikes a chord with me.  I have not been writing to many drug-a-log stories lately and I definitely have a few more I should write down [i.e apartment stories, mashed potatoes, first day, meth, police, bleeding, geeked] there are a couple good stories from that time period.  We’ll see.

Ugh I have a headache.



[Old draft 2-3 yrs old?  Ahh found the date they are dated Jan 2, 2006]

I saw the light in your eyes
I knew it was too good to be true
Deep down in those Baby blues

I sit in the darkened room watching the embers glow from with-in.  A solitude ember alive with-in itself pulses.  My pipe picks up a partial glow.  My mind listens and processes each creak and crack in the old house.  The stars are shining bright, the view framed by tree limbs reaching for there next growth ring.  Windowpanes etched in delicate swirls frost forms in the corners.  The nuances of starlite occasionally shooting the random twinkle of a prism.  All is still and slow, frozen air.  I am an ember glowing bright a faint light visible from the heavens above.  My body is in a deep relaxation.  My dreamland.  Behind my eyelids a landscape of 1950’s nostalgia [Pretty Pretty Peggy Sue, 3-button sweaters, shiny big American cars].  I think of her, the fire cracks.  Am I one of the fortunate souls who can obtain enlightenment and find true peace and joy from the simple elegance of life.  Thoughts zip thru my head, I hope one of these browsing thoughts will trigger a neurological reaction pushing me into dream world that becomes reality.

I feel a sudden sense that in my life I will have a seizure from withdrawing from benzodiazapines, I will hit my head just right, and over night I will be a savant.  I wish there was a spiritual savant out there most are idiot savants and cant really function, day-to-day.  I think to myself that just might make a good book druggie dope fiend trips hits his head and is a over night genius spreading metaphysical truths to the broken sciences that got shattered the day they started to cook the books back in the 40’s.

My spaceship is ready and waiting for a trip to the cosmos, oh how I wish I could take you.  Your hand in mine and electro-static is dancing its electronic jig on our fingertips.  Clear your head of your daily troubles, ease out of your body and meet me around the corner.  I will be floating under the street lamp.  Its such a shame the human race is so FUCKED>

I miss you
I think of you often
when I am behind the stars
when I am twiddling my fingers staring out the window
when I am with another girl
dreamlite flash
Wish to see my stash
come help me make sense of the swirl

[Old post, I decided I would post some of the 100 or so old entries I have in my draft folder.  I dont even remember writing most of these but I am thankful I am not in that mindframe  2-2.5 yrs old?]

I dont have much to say, I briefly got back with my ex this past week, I was in heaven and in hell.  I just dont understand how someone can be crazier than me…?  I didnt think it was possible.  Well I have erased her from my memory, I can not put myself thru such insanity.  It is soo unhealthy for me…

I am sad, feel fractured, and incomplete.  I cant let it get to me, I was in the clear I had her forgotten.  Than with a flick of a finger she is back, than with a flick of a finger she is gone.  I feel sick.

[tear that page out…  RIP]

It was a morning just as this in years past where I would not be able to control myself.  I awoke early 4:30 am or so, dazed and trying to fit the pieces of what happened.  Feelings of sadness, anger, disappointment, and helplessness cursed thru my being.  I roll out of bed still in the clothes I was wearing from yest. or was it the day before?  I reach for my pills… gulp, gulp, gulp.  No instant relief I think to myself as I stare out my windows at the first snow of the season.  Billions of individual snoflakes making up a white blanket.  I dont even hesitate, I am in my car and on my way to cop heroin.  The only thing that will make me forget.

Forget, thats all I want to do.  I dont want to feel, I dont want to think, I dont really even want to be alive,  My car drives itself right up to the corner where there are 3 people, wrapped in heavy winter coats, hoods pulled down tight.  The snow whips in circles.  I pull over and yell out can I get a pack?  The lifeless bodies jump into action one stands far out on the corner, watching for incoming cars.  The other runs to the curb and starts digging in the snow pulling out a crumpled piece of paper which he grabs my pack of heroin out, and crumbles it back up and re-stashes the bundles of dope.  He pulls off one glove as he gets close to my window, he hands me a strip of double sided tape, enclosed inside are 11 bags of heroin wrapped in tinfoil.  Good dope, I ask?  You’ll be back is his only answer.  I hand him a hundred bucks, which he counts and hands over to the 3rd man/child? standing in the pre-dawn darkness.

I put it in gear and my tires spin untill they somewhat get traction on the backroads of the inner-city streets.  I drive for about a block, not worried about police this early in the morning, I pull over sliding into the curb.  Before I have the car in park, I have my needles and cooker laying out on the passengers seat, I rip open the tape and free three tinfoils from their protective, waterproof seal.  My shaking hands fumble trying to unfold the bags, one bag gets dumped into the cooker, a pinky finger taste and I know I am golden.  The second bag gets emptied as the flakes of heroin gently float onto there landing space, I am reminded of the first snow of the season.  I look out my window into the dark morning light, strong wave after wave of snow blasts against my window.  For a minute I get lost in the hypnotic 3-D effect the flying, falling snow brings.  I think about her, Why? Why? did things happen the way they did?  A tear starts to well-up in my eye.  I quickly empty the 3rd foil out and stare at the mound of off-white heroin laying in a old 7-up soda can that has been ripped in half, and the bottom is used for cooking up my heroin.  I drench the mountain of heroin with a stream of water from a needle, a dark tan heroin/water solution forms.  I drop a cotton in a suck up the mind erasing, feeling destroying, ‘every-thing-is-ok’ solution.  With my heat blasting on high I tie off with my seat belt and desperately try to find a vein strong enough to pop to the surface.  After multiple attempts of stabbing myself, I finally register a crimson mushroom cloud into my needle.  I push the plunger down and fall back into my seat.

Motherfucker, ahhh. The rush starts in my chest and I can feel it being carried by my blood stream…

Poor poor pitiful me…

Slow week, I need to start eating better.  I dont have much too write about, maybe I will write about ‘old things’.  Maybe I can live vicariously thru my past memories.  Healthy?  Do I care…  Tonight I was at a usual NA meeting.  I was late and the temps were sinking low, and the wind blew me indoors.  There is a chick in there who’s name is Mary Jane, I shit you not.  She is older than me and drop dead gorgeous I have been talkin to her for a few months now and I would love to tell her what I would like to do to her.  Plus I think she is married but never wears a wedding ring and I realize everybody doesnt adhere to the ring finger typical wedding ring.  So I have stayed away, that and the fact I have been shaking like I stuck my finger in the electrical socket and generally filled with anxiety.  Thanks to a long term bezo habit, even now 9 months clean from them I am still not back to normal or what I would want normal to be at.  What is normal.  I havent felt normal for a long time and I am sober, hrmpp…

Anyways so in the meeting there was this older lady sitting at the table just fucking wasted.  Nodding out, laying down on her legs, hand twitching, mumbling about something or the other.  Great, there was a girl sitting on the other side of her.  She caught my eyes when I was glancing at the nodded out lady.  I was living thru her in that instance, god how nice it would be to be that fuck doped up tonight.  I ran the thought through my head a few times and it did sound good.  I could probably hit her up for what ever she was on, or I could of had dope in my hand in 30 minutes.  All that was needed was for me to break that little barrier in my mind that told me that was the dumbest thing on earth I could do.  I know that girl next to her was thinking something, I wonder what was going on thru her head.  Coppin’ I am sure as it looked to effect her quite a bit.  I suppose I should have asked.

3 grams of Sour Diesle bubble hash was found after being lost for months.  One of the nicest finds I have had in a long time.  Not much compares to that these days as thats about as far as I bend the illicit scene.  I really do wish marijuana was available for prescription in Chicago, Illinois.  I know there is some a pending vote for legislation for 2009-10 sometime.  People in California have it pretty fucking sweet these days, the selection, the ease, the strength, the freedom.  I can only hope that more good will follow as it is needed elsewhere, like here.  I havent been smoking for about 6 months and I catch myself being so unhappy and just not myself,  just 1-2 small tokes of this and perfect.

Anyways I am talking about nothing.




Promises made in the dark dissolve by light of day
Easy answers
Ain’t no saying what will be, it’s always been that way
Only thing I know for sure, someone got to pay
Easy answers
Ain’t no easy answers, is what I got to say

Easy answers
I don’t wanna hear
Ain’t nobody cares
C’mon let’s go
I don’t wanna know
I don’t wanna know
I don’t wanna know
I don’t wanna know
I don’t wanna know

Love is an easy word to say, roll’s right off the tongue
Easy answers
Seems to crop up like a weed, in every song that’s sung
It always sounds so easy, the way it falls upon the ear
Easy answers
Plenty easy answers now, listen to me here
Easy answers

Find ’em anywhere
Easy answers
Easy answers
Easy answers
Easy answers
I don’t wanna know
I don’t wanna know

Shut your eyes and listen to the colours of your mind
Easy answers
Give yourself a breath of air, let your soul unwind
Easy answers
You don’t have to say a word, you got dick to say
‘Cause no-one ever said there’s gonna be an easy way
Easy answers

Find them anywhere
Easy answers
Ain’t nobody care
Easy answers
I don’t wanna know

Easy answers
I don’t wanna know
Easy answers
I don’t wanna know
I don’t wanna know
Promises made in the dark dissolve by light of day
Easy answers
Ain’t no saying what we’ll be, it’s always been that way
Only thing I know for sure, someone got to pay
Easy answers
Ain’t no easy answers, that’s all I got to say
Easy answers

Easy answers
I don’t wanna hear
Easy answers
Easy answers
Ain’t nobody there
Easy answers
Easy answers
C’mon now, let’s go
I don’t wanna know
I don’t wanna know
I don’t wanna know

Easy answers
Easy answers
Feel alright
Easy answers
Easy answers
Feel alright
Easy answers
Easy answers

Jimmy wishes he could die sometimes, this world of life is nothing but a classroom on the physical plane, is he meant for greatness, or will he get hit by a bus tommorrow?  The wind in the willows and the 18 yr old girl skipping down the wooded path.  Her pigtails flip-flopping as she leaves a trail of piney smoke swirling behind her.  Buddha, Jesus, The Great Spirit, the beat of the drum… rump-a-bum-pum..  pum  pum playing that drum.  The town Jimmy lives in is a death trap, he only has one finger left and its pointing at the door…  Built to last?  Or Born to Die, people surprise him, he cares not.  Shrug it off his shoulders, as he pets his cat, Posternutbag.  Jimmy sits on his lazyboy in his room, 2 foot graffix bong [original from the 70’s] lays smoking gently next to him.  His thoughts are on quantum physics, and molecular manipulation.  He is ready to run, run run runaway…  Into the darkness of his warped mind.

Digital hijacked flavors like pineapple flavored sublingual xanax

the invisible cloud of evil shit talkers, makes his heart hurt with disgust.

Maybee Jimmy is not like you?  I would hate to call him unique because that would make him special when all he is really is an enery force waiting to return home.  A starseed lost in the milkyway of the 3rd dimension, thankfully he can escape and take vacations when ever he wishes.  Jimmy is fed up something is on the brink, the question is does he have enough proclivitiy to turn the old rusted gears and get them moving again.

TO be or not to be that is the question?  Or is it?  Like a jungle DJ spinning Beck mixed with some Ghetto Boys [probably spelled wrong] tuning it into a dark electronica string band ensamble.  Long beards and moonshine, fiddle in hand.  Huckfin and mullberries when will it end?


Blurred streets, sane confrontation… A repeat of the night before and a repeat of my life.  Bombarded at the local pub from good friends trying to pull a half ass intervention on me.  Sorry I am under weight and I am not really in sync with my meds, I AM NOT USING DRUGS OK!  Yeah, yeah you have heard it all before and frankly I dont blame them for having the doubt that runs rampant in the back of their minds telling them, “He is using look at his sunken cheek bones”…  I swear on my sisters brand new babies life I am clean, but I am met with a look that says it all, they dont believe me.   They think I am am lying, they think I am strung out, they think I am unhappy.  The last point I will whole heartly agree to, I am unhappy and I am taking steps to change my 12 yr history of heroin abuse and the bagage that comes with it, why should I care what these people I have know half my life think of me.  When it is I who knows the truth, its a battle that is unwinnable.  No sense getting filled with anxiety over thoughts other people have about me set in there head like a fucking concrete slab.  Wheere’s the jackhammer?

Humid Spilt Beer
Built to spill?
Built to Last…


Fog permeates my thoughts, making the rainy streets reflect the streetlights in a manner that reminds me of an abstract painting I am stuck gazing into a picture of art created on the pavement.  Green Thumb  Woodgrain swirls into the rythm of a girl gyrating to the beat down backwards beat.  Riding the snake, ride it west.  With a pocket fulla xanax and a pigtail’d girl.  Twisted in the spokes of your head, the smell of the young girls, riding the swell of the music.  Breasts swell with confusion.  Drool a little drop for me.  Liquid saliva a mouthfulla spit like a LSd trip comming on, ‘Gosh Dran Golly’ do I got to spit.  Splat.  Starlight the stars they do like the glitter on a swirling girls face.  Dizzy with eternity.  I break free, into the night, sliding in between shadows I go, a couple lungs fulla mother natures air has got me back into to a mode I can evaluate my surrounding instead of being force fed some derlict beat and never ending parade of girls in there tight clothes thinking they are hot shit, sorry your just another coke slut.

Swirving and zig-zaggin down the street, Jerry Garcia’s ‘Shady Grove’ pumps thru my earphone taking me back to images I dont want to view.  When that album came out it was Junk City, fill the barrel plunge the plunger and while your at it bring the next party favor around.  Ahh, two girls getting naked and making out on the table top, pissing of some young punk whose coke they almost knocked over, I hear the strumming of Jerry’s guitar.  Snap Out of it…

Back riding peacefully under the big old Elms and Oak trees, the quaint little houses make me think of what could have been for me, I should rephrase that and say what I what know was not what I wanted when I was in a position to achieve that.  The funny thing is I am in the same position as I was than, I am on top of the world I can do ANYTHING.

Lazy River Road…

The Sky was yellow and the sun was green… 

Sun Green jaded with rough cut emeralds in her eyes they shone like a green fire…


Sun Green started makin’ waves
On the day that Grandpa died
Speakin’ out against anything
Unjust or packed with lies
She chained herself to a statue of an eagle
In the lobby of Power Co.

And started yelling through a megaphone,
“There’s corruption on the highest floor.”
Suits poured out of elevators
“You’re all dirty.”

Phoneheads began to speak
“You can’t trust any of them.”
Security couldn’t get her down
She was welded to the eagle’s beak.

Sun Green leaned into that megaphone, said,
“Truth is all I seek.”
Security brought in some blow torches
News cameras recorded her speech,
“When the city is plunged into darkness
by an unpredicted rolling blackout

The White House always blames the governor
Saying the solution is to vote him out.”
On top of that great bronze eagle
Sun’s voice was loud and clear. She said,
“Power Co’s working with the White House
to paralyze our state with fear.”

It was a golden moment
In the history of TV news
No one could believe it
It just got great reviews

“Hey, Mr. Clean, you’re dirty now, too.
Hey, Mr. Clean, you’re dirty now, too.
Hey, Mr. Clean, you’re dirty now, too.
Hey, Mr. Clean, you’re dirty now, too.”

The Imitators were playing
Down at Jon Lee’s bar
When Sun went down to see ‘em
Someone followed her in a car

Now when she goes dancin’
She has to watch her back
The FBI just trashed her room
One of them kicked her cat

Damn thing scratched his leg
So he had to shoot it dead
And leave it lyin’ in a puddle of blood
At the foot of Sun Green’s bed

Jon Lee’s was rockin’
The Imitators drove it home
Sun was dancin’ up a heat wave
For awhile she was all alone

When up walked a tall stranger
Shadowed her move to move
In perfect unison
A supernatural groove

He took her by the hand
And the room began to spin
He said, “I’m Earth; Earth Brown.
You know the shape I’m in.

“I’m leavin’ tonight for Alaska
And I want you to come in the spring
And be a goddess in the planet wars
And save the living things.

“I’m ready to go right now,”
Sun Green told Earth Brown
“Let’s go back to my place,
pick up my cat, and leave this town behind.”

“Hey, Mr. Clean, you’re dirty now, too.
Hey, Mr. Clean, you’re dirty now, too.
Hey, Mr. Clean, you’re dirty now, too.
Hey, Mr. Clean.”

Next day Sun Green got busted for pot
And it made the headline news
But then the charges all got dropped
And the story gets confused

‘I’d still like to meet Julia Butterfly
And see what remedy brings
And be a goddess in the planet wars
Try to save the living things

“But that might not be easy
Livin’ on the run
Mother Earth has many enemies
There’s much work to be done

“Hey, Mr. Clean, you’re dirty now, too.
Hey, Mr. Clean, you’re dirty now, too.
Hey, Mr. Clean, you’re dirty now, too.
Hey, Mr. Clean.”


If the rain comes
they run and hide their heads
They might as well be dead
If the rain comes
If the rain comes
When the sun shines
they slip into the shade
and sip their lemonade
When the sun shines
When the sun shines
Rain, I don’t mind
Shine, the weather’s fine
I can show you
that when it starts to rain
everything’s the same
I can show you
I can show you
Rain, I don’t mind
Shine, the weather’s fine
Can you hear me
that when it rains and shines
it’s just a state of mind
Can you hear me
Can you hear me
??? Earth to space cadets, come in…?
The silverspace ships are hidden behind the Sun
Save the planet for another day
Attention shoppers.
Buy with a conscience and save.
Save the planet for another day
Save Alaska!
Let the caribou stay.
Don’t care what the governments say
They’re all bought
and paid for anyway.
Save the planet for another day
Hey Big Oil!
What do you say?
We were runnin’ through the night
Never knowin’ if we would see the light
Paranoid schizophrenic visions
Livin in fear of the wrong decisions
We got to wake up
We got to keep goin’
If they follow us
There’s no way of knowin’
We got a job to do
We got to save Mother Earth
Be the ocean when it meets the sky
You can make a difference.
If you really try.
Be the magic in the Northern lights
Six Days…
six nights.
Be the river as it rolls along
It has three-eyed fish.
And it’s smellin’ strong.
Be the rain you remember fallin’
Be the rain.
Be the rain.
Yeah, rain was fallin’ and we’re soakin’ wet
Hail is beatin’ down on our heads
The wind is blowin’ through our hair
Faces frozen in the frigid air
We got to get there
We got to be there
Before the big machines
We got a job to do
We got to save Mother Earth
Dream the hunter on the western plain
The birds are all gone.
Where did they go?
Dream the fisherman in his boat
He’s comin’ home empty.
He’s barely afloat.
Dream the logger in the great northwest
They’re runnin’ out of trees.
They got to give it a rest.
(There’s no other way to cut it)
Dream the farmer in the old heartland
Corporate greed and chemicals
are killin’ the land.
Next mornin’ Sun was up at dawn
She looked around and Earth was gone
Dark visions he had last night
He needed peace, he needed light.
He heard the rumble and
He saw the big machines
The green army rose
It was a bad dream
He had a job to do
He had to save Mother Earth
Be the ocean when it meets the sky
Greek freighters are dumping
crap somewhere right now.
Be the magic in the northern lights
(The ice is melting!)
Be the river as it rolls along
Toxxxic waste dumpin’
from corporate farms.
Be the rain you remember fallin’
Be the rain.
Be the rain.
Save the Planet for another day
Be the rain.
Be the rain.
Be the river as it rolls along
Be the rain.
Be the rain.
Be the rain, be the rain

Be who you want to be… and I will be who I am.  I have a massive urge to get Crocadile naked in the pale glow of fullmoon as it sets on a new dawn.  Curvey, perfect, to perfect?  Problems, fights, non-sense, just lets not talk, move a little closer to me.  I know you wanna, ahh to be the King of Nothing and I want you to be the Queen of the baseball bat.  Batter up…  I suppose your on the injured rooster?  Well getty up because the way the moon light is striking your perfect wineglass and than some breasts, I am sorry sometimes I cant control myself, its been awhile trying to tire the crocidile down if you would just quit spinning and moving and talking, lets just forget about everything for and hour or two, till were swollen tired.  Dissapear into that ectatic void of feeling you ontop of me, your like drug that erases all my problems, erases all my worries, I wish I could dissapear with you more often as it has been awhile.  Time will tell the golden slate stepping stones of fate have been laid out in the heavenly galaxy above us, its just a matter of us both being in the right frame of mind.  A figment of my imagination or a feeling never forgotten.  I will raise my glass of red liquid to the second theory.  How can a Crocidile make me so happy only I can wonder and she can guess, because if I knew, I would live a perfect life.  Gosh I miss those sweaty nights, speed-up television, vodka down the hatch, just watching you wait for me to make a move, will I am I waiting on you?  You know me or do you?  My time has come to end this fable.  The time might come on a spring night as tonight.  Or most likely if I can keep my mouth from acting up and letting my emotions and medications get the best of me, and treating you like a human being instead of me acting like a Natural Born Freak, zipping off on a tangent about nothing that really matters, but your watching a movie and I can tell my talking is irratating the fuck out of you, I wish you would say whats on your mind, I wish I would say whats on my mind.  A trip to the zoo….  Crocidiles and Alligators.  [Yeah figure that one out prying eyes?]  Figure it out and be quick to tell ‘so and so’ about some random thought I turned into a disjointed short story because does it really matter, does it matter to you?  Should it?  Do you like to read my scattered thoughts and piece together a picture you think you know but really dont have the faintest clue.  Velvet Underground comes to mind and a little bit of a Foggy Notion…

She’s over by the corner
Got her hands by her sides
They hit her harder harder harder
Till they thought she might die

Well I got a foggy notion, do it again
Over by the corner, do it again
I got my calomine lotion baby, do it again
I got a foggy notion, do it again

Standing on the moon.  I see the battle rage below.  Standing on the moon, I see the soldiers come and go.  There’s a metal flag beside me, Someone planted long ago.  Old Glory standing stiffly. CRIMSON, WHITE and INDIGO, indigo.  Standing on the moon.  Where talk is cheap and vision true.  Standing on the moon, but I would rather be with you.

Giant steps are what you take.  Walking on the moon, I hope my legs don’t break.  Walking on the moon.  We could walk forever… Walking on the moon.  We could live together, Walking on, walking on the moon…

Walking back from your house.  Walking on the moon.  Walking back from your house.  Walking on the moon. Feet they hardly touch the ground.  Walking on the moon, My feet don’t hardly make no sound.  Walking on, walking on the moon.

Some may say, I’m wishing my days away. No way! and if it’s the price I pay.  Some say Tomorrow’s another day.  You stay, I may as well play.

Giant steps are what you take, Walking on the moon.  I hope my legs don’t break, Walking on the moon.  We could walk forever.  Walking on the moon.  We could be together, Walking on, walking on the moon

Some may say, I’m wishing my days away. No way! and if it’s the price I pay.  Some say Tomorrow’s another day.  You stay, I may as well play

Keep it up.

Digital fuzz of technology morphing into pure crystal clear sanity story telling is it sane?  I will close my eye’s really really tight and make you all go away, make you all go away…  The power of the mind its crux’s and unlimited boundaries make me like to type keys and tell you a tale that floats like the clouds in my coffee, big ol’ fat white summer cumulous coulds so big, fat and fluffy.  Come take a seat with me in the clouds, I will form a lazy boy for two.  If you get tired just take the golden spiral staircase of stars down to the earthborne level.  Maybee I will join ya…?

Seedless is going to go feel the breeze now and whistle a little tune, hope for the best and expect the worse.

Bigger than man walking on the moon, Coming to a theatre near you soon.  This is what I’m living for.  You get a little bit, And you want a little more

Every dog will have its day, And all these dogs just want to play.  You will reap what you sow but the real truth we will never know…

Everything is fine
Crimes of the mind
I drink a little wine
Crimes of the mind
Here’s to modern times
Crimes of the mind

Everything is fine
Crimes of the mind
I drink a little wine
Crimes of the mind
Here’s to modern times
Crimes of the mind

Rolling in the grime
Crimes of the mind
Digging for a dime
Crimes of the mind
Blind leading the blind
Crimes of the mind

Coming at you thru a naturally altered state of mind…

Peace to all and blessings to all the people that are down on there luck especially that homless guy shaking his styrofoam cup of change, the ching, chang, makes you think of Ying and Yang, is Karma out to get you, can you be honest with yourself, let alone others.  Well I hope you can, Hail Mary and Our Father, standing on a conical shaped copper disk in the sky, lightbeams stream from there palms they go to embrace the world, and try to spead a little happiness.  So do me a favor, put a smile on your face, hold that door open, be a good little human being.  I’ll be watching….




“While you were gone
these spaces filled with darkness
The obvious was hidden
With nothing to believe in
the compass always points to Terrapin

The sullen wings of fortune beat like rain
You’re back in Terrapin for good or ill again
For good or ill again”

Who else the Grateful Dead, a rare and different tune.  I have been going batty over a Mealy Bug infestation or what I perceive to be one, taking place on the flesh of my tormented cacti, cursed bugs and pests.  Making me pray to the spirits of the enchanted cacti, hoping on a light the it will all be a figment of my imagination.  Ha, not likely those Mealy bugs are hungry and I feel helpless… I am not about to get into systemic insecticide treatments my organic hearts weeps a tear.  Whats that Bug?

Ahhh…  I’ll blow off some steam and cop a few lines of nonsense: Brain-Dead, lighting bolted alive.  For now I am left to live in a depressive state of ‘get the fuck over with Winter’ leaving me withdrawn and I find myself Isolating and becoming slowly deranged.  I need a life so bad, if only…  if this would happen… if I would fuck her…  Ah its all a bunch of snooty hot young sluts thats all I see, always making a quick beeline to the washroom.  A wipe a the nose, oh not me I never touch the stuff, yeah tell that to the fucking double gram rock in your pocket, because I could frankly give a shitless.  I wish my dreams could come true?  Dont you?  Ahh the images of wants, I want nothing more that to be normal.  To live a day completely clean, yeah yeah I am not taking illicit drugs but my shrink has me bent every-which-way.  Warping the flesh from my body as I am bug eyed and never hungry.

I need to change my pace, to much thinking can leave me staring into a muddled puddle trying to glimpse a glance of my reflection.  Damn, I need a haircut.  Its seems as the sun hasnt shown its healing rays lately [or maybee I slept thru them only to be left standing in the empty space, hood up, and flurries of snow swirling into a surreal moment of suspended time.  I can scream out loud and no one answers, just the old owl in the Evergreen, coo-coo-cha-cho’ing weird streams of illuminated lines of Geometry.  Sparkling in their brilliant neon green, they encircle my body beating there formula’s into Mother Earth who quickly picks up on the funk’d out bass line and the ground starts to hum with electromagnetic pulses, a frequency that vibrates a little bit higher.  Behind closed eyelids, images of breathing eastern Mandals, dizzy array of starships on the horizon tonight eh’.  All preaching a theory of live, interwoven with the gnarled roots of the Oak Tree which are dressed up in cute little suits made of of the milkway.  Starlight, Starbright, am I hearing things, shhhush.  There over there in the tree line, a orb floats at eye level, I know its of intelligence.  Peering thru a smokey quartz crystal kaleidoscope the pieces all fall in place.  From my cross-legged ‘American Indian Stylin’ poise of body.  The vibration’s that whisper in the night, travel into my bloodstream, warming me with the knowledge %ێГ3x^=۞|#9#9#9#9 that I am after all these years still in tune with whats really shaking the underground American Apple Pie adventures of deep, rythmic breathing, entranced to the spiral stars to venus on a overcast days as this.  All from yellow graphing paper and the equation of Ω‰=and the pen thou roams.  \\\  Cutback to an image of a longhair teenager, ripping a blue graffix bong  ///  From the swirls of the green smoke John Lennon sings sweet words of wizdum, striking a chord with thee…

Turn off your mind relax and float down-stream,
It is not dying, it is not dying,
Lay down all thought surrender to the void,
It is shining, it is shining.
That you may see the meaning of within,
It is speaking, it is speaking,
That love is all and love is ev’ryone,
It is knowing, it is knowing.
When ignorance and haste may mourn the dead,
It is believing, it is believing,
But listen to the color of your dreams,
It is not living, it is not living.
Or play the existence to the end.
Of the beginning, of the beginning.
Of the beginning. Of the beginning.

Tomorrow just never knows, as images of eyes stare at me with a blank stare curious about what?  Why are you watching me?  [palms or psalms 6 or so mg’s of xanax and let the dissolve into a buttery nothingness underneath my tongue].  The same tongue that likes to sing the song of pigtail girls blushing as a rash of giving it to them slow and steady at about half notch, turning the dial past 2 we have a naked girl quivering.  Oh yeah, keep sucking I might cum, OK this is getting old.  Lets just stop you cant get me off.  Yeah your tits are perky and have me tongue tied and twisted, Yeah your ass is perfect, and you moan sweet nothings which unhitch my thoughts and I am in some smokey room in another time as my eyes cut thru the smoke I hear Velvet Underground singing backwards,  And this is what he said… Oh sweet nuthin’… She ain’t got nothing at all… Oh sweet nutin’… She ain’t got nothing at all… Say a word for Polly May, She can’t tell the night from the day… Oh sweet nuthing…zing her head flies up a finger pressed against her nostril.  Her teeth as white as can be starts talking, and talking morphine ‘heheehe’ into those wind-up cartoon toys of chattering teeth.  Mothers little helper, 3 blues laid down on her pressed pillowcase each and every night for her, a perfect contrast that image has.  Art, in the pharmacological sense, a tale left to be unconscious.

Riding no handed, peddling backwards while blowing bubbles of ‘Big League Chew’ Splat a sticky mess.  No rhyme no reason as I wish I had her undressed.  Little Chrissy body perfectly shaped, tis a shame nothing ever became from nothing.  Unwound and fallen like the strap on a tank top as your breasts swell nicely, and fuck what a number I would pull on you, sideswiped from behind bent over your school desk I would have you begging for me inch by inch, yeah you were a good fuck, shit, you were a great fuck and I would fuck you this second but in a second passes a thousand minutes and what was just now, was time whistling its sweet memories.  A tune that makes you slither like Axle Rose singing that one song… Patience?  Overlapped in a decade over decade framework, a blown Jim Morrison can be heard chanting… Theres danger on the edge of town,

Ride the kings highway, baby!
Weird scenes inside the gold mine.
Ride the highway west, baby!

Ride the snake, ride the snake
To the lake, the ancient lake, baby
The snake is long, seven miles
Ride the snake…hes old, and his skin is cold

Wrapped up in your disease of discombobulation, Buddha’s Little Helper is synonymous with D-lysergic acid diethylamide.  A crystal clear drop jacked into you vein.  Snakin’ on down lsd, Neon nodding on Lake Shore Drive as Chicago’s finest flakes of heroin drift into your lap.  Its always there, just turn down the street with no streetlights.  Strung out mess, your tracked up arms and emaciated frame call out the parasite you want to be infected by.  Addicted to Addiction.  The bent spray painted trashcans are perfect cover as you jack a 1/4 gram into you hand, hitting a vein on your middle finger.  If you still got a finger in the honeypot you mine as well flick it and fuck it up because your so far fucking gone what you you would do for your next fix, would blow your Mothers head, dirty girls and there pure deeds.  Like an old ex girlfriend I had a loooooong time ago would tell me how she would take the acid I gave her on a rainy tuesday school night, scared and sucking her thumb she stumbled into Mothers room and asked for a bedtime story as she was having trouble sleeping.  Her Mother would read to her ‘Alice in Wonderland’ as she rested her head on her mothers lap.  True event that happened as time had it written in its book.

So yeah.  Party till you puke, grind your jaw and blabber about nothing, nod off eyes drooping shut, swirl into fractals, just do it on your Swatch Watch time as my Swatch is broken.  A moment in history literally stopped in time.

Theres a blue light, in my best friends room
Theres a blue light, in his eyes
Theres a blue light, yeah,
I want to see it, shine

Theres a ship, that sails by my window
Theres a ship that sails on by,
Theres a world under it
I think I see it,
Sailing away

I think its sailing,
Miles crashing me by
Crashing me by,
Crashing me by…


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