Banshee Screams from the Pacific Coast

What is this desire to unsucceed spectacularly in every way, burbling in the underbelly of my being like a cooking teapot, scorching hot to the touch & an ear-splitting high pitched whistle?

The way it reels my soul in, leaving me gasping & flopping about like a common guppy….something in the air does not compute…

And what’s so strange, so scary, is that this sensation is a haunting from a specter causing an unsettling disturbance in the force from a source of which time has no bearing. The ghost of past, present, & future together in a cataclysmic bang of the forever beforeandafter

…temporal curses…

Ain’t that a bitch?

Less a question of ability, moreso a question of fortitude. A quiet quandary of epic proportions. Raging like the Great Red Stain of Jupiter.

something in the air does not compute…
there is no air

& I’ll suffocate under the weight of a thousand unanswered questions before I have time to wake up

Beast of Burden

You made the rules than broke them all
because you don’t give a fuck, not even a bit
or piece, big or small
I used to think you were full of it
& soon saw, you do it not for the thrill
but for the funk of it
far more triumphant
in the long run, you’ll get up the hill

prancing along like a stallion of steel
instead of dawdling like an ass
counting its footsteps in the mud
following previously trotted heels

The early horse gets the meals.

Once Upon A Time

The sound of a child’s laughter usually brings a smile to my face
but it soon fades, knowing I can’t laugh quite that freely now
Innocence lost

Though what grows must regress to an early state
I just hope I can laugh like that again
before I reach the heavenly gate

Take Me Away!

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So much time spent frantically running like an ant from a cackling sadist with a lit cigarette can leave you feeling a bit sluggish. Not tired. An actual slug with no brain, sliding about on mucus with no destination, other than perhaps finding loose table salt in a ditch.

No More No More

Get out of that world.

Build a spacecraft if necessary. A funky mothership connection to the far beyond, boldly traveling to places far beyond the human reach. Pure unsullied space where insults and shaming can not be heard. Unforgiving but not a relentless torment. Where the tick of the clock has no bearing, not a time zone in sight. Make a creme brulee in zero gravity and watch that sucker billow into unrecognizable shapes.

Such drastic measures shouldn’t be necessary but alas, here we are.

If a spacecraft is above your means, find an alternate form of extrasolar travel. Perhaps pop the doctor’s candy in your mouth and will your body into sprouting wings. Pray for a pious archangel to come give you a lift.

No matter the method…
It’s time to go.

It’s odd, I’ve made no claims til now… but lack of an affirmative declaration is the onset of the undoing.

All I can say is

No More No More

The Short & Sticky

Frustration when your fingers stick together in a web of dubious intent
Clumsy clumsy fingers, pressing all the wrong pressure points

blissful serendipity are not in these here fingertips, nor is a technicolor climax while attempting to push the apex up so we could get down together
but alas, ’twas not in the cards, not within these short stubbed reaches!

But listen to the the sound. Get closer.
The strum of an angel’s wing. Crystal gleam, a steaming train of thought. Glam. Plenty o’strawberry jam.
A harmony rings from above “All Right All Right All Right All Right All Right…” 
a rhythmic clap rumbles behind billowy dark violet clouds. The aroma of honeydew drops clinging to tall grass at dawn, a calm culmination of all things considered.

So close yet so far away

if only I could get these sticky fingers to spread that way.


Fair Cherub

Fair cherub
The monsters won’t hurt you anymore
They’re just fishes out of water
You’re an angel swaddled in sunshine, so don’t bother,
those beasts will stay away from this day forth
So, fair cherub
Dream Tall

Oh Fair Cherub!
No need to hold your tears back now!
You’d let them fall onto your being
cuz it ain’t below freezing
but you don’t even have a reason
for committing such an act now!
So fair cherub
Stand Tall

How’s that for a damn daily affirmation?

Is this offering enough to appease to this alleged higher power’s insatiable demand for bloodlust?

Far be it from me to tell the higher power what to do, but surely this should suffice as a replacement to the more archaic traditions of sacrifice, yes? Perhaps you haven’t gotten the several thousand other memos I’ve sent?

Please, be more direct from this point moving forward because we appear to be on different wavelengths.

Flowers Growing Out Of A Sick’o’delic Head

Is the cure in the medicine or is it more of a philosophical answer?
Would working to keep adversity away whenever possible be a positive thing or is it a sign of a destructive avoidance problem?
Am I still me, even if I can’t recall how I used to be? Moreover, who and what am I now?

A shadowy apparition has camped out on the inside for far too long and it’s time to go. The specter of melancholic agony has definitely overstayed its welcome, by at least a decade. It’s a mechanical beast, running off of vitality, not afraid to run on fumes as needed with no regards for the host.

A tragedy of the highest magnitude rocking the cerebral night and day.

When emotions have more weight than the truth… that can be problematic. And even the truth lies!

When Hell decides to pay a visit, that is the reality, that is the truth. But it isn’t necessarily true.

Analyzing every microsecond of what I’m supposed to be doing or feeling in the present moments of time is a haunting unlike any other. The shadowy apparition has grown over the years…

but everything that grows must die.

So sew different seeds.
Watch those grow instead.


0 mph

Are you uncomfortable?

Do your bones poke your skin from the inside and you’re aware of it 24/7? Have you bitten the tip of your tongue off when suppressing a rage no one should see, no matter how much it’s deserved? Been touched inappropriately by an ape in a pinstripe suit? Have you stopped giving a baboon’s red rectum about much?

How many cases labelled as “tragedies”; how many tragedies with the exact same circumstances need to happen around the world before someone calls these tragedies out for being the blatantly prolonged purposeful travesty that it is?

[can u relate]

Pop Quiz: What on Earth is more dangerous than a human being? Write your response below with a #2 pencil. [Go on, I’ll wait, there’s plenty of time.]
Nervousness, anxiousness…are you psychosocial dysfunction in motion?

Control is a false sense. The only thing one can control is their actions, and even that’s not 100% true. Everything, every sense of control, is deception.

Does cement feel like blades of grass under your feet? Do the names of colors not make sense to you anymore? Have you broken a cigarette upon taking it out of the pack and found yourself on the verge of hysterics? Has The Fear been dulled down into The Familiar?

[Don’t even talk to me unless you see the moon during the day, and the sun at night]

If you answered yes to any of these questions, you are on the fast track towards success!


Erratic Behavior

20 years ago, Mario Kart 64 was released on Nintendo’s revolutionary home console. Its cutting edge 64-bit 3D graphics changed the world of gaming forever and has remained a gaming staple and likely will for generations to come.

I find it virtually unplayable now. The controls and gameplay hold up well, very well in fact.

but….just….look at it. If you’ve never played it before or can’t remember how it looks, go to youtube and watch clips from one of the hundreds of Let’s Plays that are sure to be floating around out there.

If you can’t be arsed to do that, then here’s this.

(TW: Moving Images, Bright Colors)


Admit it, the music started playing in your head.


Really look at that for a moment.

20 years ago, those graphics looked amazing. but now… all I see are sequences of code.
None of the characters are actually moving! The wheels aren’t even spinning!

It’s as if the track and the environment are moving around them. An entire life spent in one stationary space with the illusion of movement. What a dreadful existence that must be, amirite? cough

As a child, I never questioned how it looked. Not Mario Kart nor any classic game with graphics that are considered primitive now. That’s just how games looked. I’m not sure what to blame for this sudden change of

The typical jadism that comes from maturity? How far video game graphics have come in contrast to the past in terms of realism? That it’s something else for my brain to over-analyze about the modern world besides the deep dark debauchery? Some other reason that I would put here if I weren’t adhering to the bullshit Rule Of Three?

Or perhaps it’s because I’ve been making the darndest effort to look at things from a new perspective in hopes of reaching a new epiphany of enlightenment. Because different perspectives are almost always a positive thing and can improve your overall experience.



Pictured here: the death of an era




I Wish U Heaven

I’d like to pull back the veil that comes from posting content online for a moment, if I might.

There’s a lot about the minuscule space We occupy in The Universe that I truly do not understand and most likely never will.
Capitalism, why humans are so goddamn uncomfortable on this planet, Religion, Racism, Queerphobia, Transphobia, why good television shows are canceled before they even get started… just to name a few.

Surprisingly though, however, Death has never been a thing I haven’t understood. or so I thought.

There are far more dead people than there are living people, by a pretty huge margin. We all know we are going to die at some point. It’s a fact that can not be ignored and isn’t something that you can plug your ears with your fingers and screech “LA LA LA CANT HEAR YOU” as you sprint away in some indeterminate direction.

We’re all going to die. It’s a cold hard fact.

I learned this lesson at a very young age (and probably is a big reason for why I’m the self-proclaimed embodiment of Jadism in the flesh). I’ve never had a moment of deep existential dread of “oh no, I’m going to stop living at some point! oh noooo!”

No, my existential anguish has always come from “Why am I, or anyone, even alive in the first place?” A question only expounded by merely existing every moment of every day.

What I’m saying is, Life has always been more confusing to me than Death, leaving me rather -well- jaded to the whole death thing.

Or so I thought.  Or more accurately, what I wish I thought was the truth.

Because if this were actually true, I would have no strong reaction to anyone dying.

But that isn’t true. It’s never been true. So many tears I’ve shed at the loss of a life force in the state it was introduced into this world departing, once and for all.

If someone you grew up with moved across to the other side of the globe, thanks to the power of technology, you can keep in contact. So well in contact that it’s almost as if they’d never left at all. but Death…


I can think back to human beings dying that have had a profound impact on me. As much as the loss itself hurts, what really gets my goat is when I realize what I had been doing at the very moment that the person had breathed their last breath.

Failing an algebra quiz. Buying a shitty sandwich from a chain restaurant. Playing a video game. Masturbating. Fucking sleeping!

More so than the actual fact that Death is a very real entity…. it’s the fact that the asshole is creeping behind anyone, ready to strike, at any time.


There’s something to be said about raw feelings. Unprocessed, unrefined, pure, not dissected in the slightest. I don’t what to do with them. And I’ve been experiencing these sensations, of the Unknown, far too much lately. And, unfortunately, I know enough now to know that dulling these sensations with The Familiar isn’t going to work.

Meaning, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. I don’t even know how to end this post. I don’t have a witty closing remark to end this post with that brilliantly sums up my point. I’m not even 100% what my point is at this time.

The Writer Side of me is frustrated beyond belief. The Human Side of me is just bewildered.

So I will end on a quote, sang by a true Immortal, who knew far more than I probably ever will:

If I don’t think about the fact that [you] left me
If I don’t see the pearls fall from the sky
If I don’t hear the accusations of blasphemy
If I don’t feel the tears in my eyes
This is the best day of my life.

God speed.