Site Update/A Jaded Community Pool

How is everyone? Anyone still read this site? Ok, good. Here’s what I’ve thinking about lately.

I recently realized that I’ve had this blog for several years now. The rules of Time are something I respect but don’t follow at all.

It doesn’t even feel that long ago. I remember the night I signed up on WordPress. I didn’t have a plan & I can’t rightly say that I do now.

With that said, I’ve grown a lot since I started this blog; emotionally, spiritually, and more. My life is in a different direction & it only makes sense that the things I share on this blog reflect that. I never want to force content & I’ve realized I’ve been having difficulty with creating.

So. I have a lot of ideas swimming around in my head & too much planning is causing them to drown and make me feel over-hydrated. I don’t where shore is exactly but I’m picking a direction and going that way, full speed ahead.

Here is the space for any feedback you’d like to share/or any questions you’d like to ask about my work & this blog. Whether positive or negative. Whether you’ve been following me for a while or you’re just tuning in.

I want to hear from you. I only ask you be constructive & courteous.

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Ofcourse.

you are just as young & old as you have ever been

in spite of what you may have heard –
wicked words flowing from the mouths of lesser men
crackpot perspectives developed in the smog of opium dens

cobwebs left undusted.
specters roaming nearly-forgotten halls – unwanted.

if youth weren’t set upon a pedestal
the ramifications could be beyond incredible

instead

the future will continue to haunt the present
while the past downs another depressant

Fret

A Place For My Stuff

ralphsteadmanbookofdogs8

Artwork by the legendary Ralph Steadman



a dog that chases its tail will be dizzy
not accomplishing anything
though it feels busy
can’t find its bones buried beneath the backyard tree
next to its goals
wow. that’s shitty.
if Melvil Dewey saw this, he’d be in a tizzy

but he’s dead.

and my shovel has dulled away from overuse
there’s a copious amount of my possessions
strewn about like a poltergeist had gone mad with vigor
i feel like i do when someone calls me a nigger
my emotions as tangible as a phantasm
my thoughts as straight forward as broken sarcasm

my cognition & body are skinny
& i feel as superfolous as Our Lord’s daily bread

………

some actions are better left undone
words left unsaid
scabs left unscratched
crimson tears better left unbled

oh, if only i had somewhere to rest my head.

A Guide 4 Those New 2 The Psychodelicide

it’s been roughly 3 years since I’ve started this blog. it’s rather hard to believe. what started of as just a place to post whatever i wanted has grown into….me posting whatever i want.

okay, so that aspect hasn’t changed. but through the years, and over 200 posts later, i’ve written many different kinds of stories with a wide variety of different styles & genres that tackle many different topics.

as the Year Of Our Lord twothousandeighteen (a year that barely even sounds real), I’ve been taking a look back at past posts, some I’ve amazingly forgotten about until I saw them. So that’s it.
If you are a new follower/visitor to this site, here a couple of my favorites to give you an idea of what’s been going on here the past few years & what you may expect to see in the future.
And if you aren’t new, please join me in this trip down memory lane.

Again, this is only a small collection. If I were to post all of my “favs”, this list would go one forever. But these are all good starting points, older posts. The recommendations can lead to more posts and I encourage you to check out some the newer posts too!

While we’re at it, this would be a good time to mention my Soundcloud. (also a link on my WP page under “Purple BeBop”. There are quite a few original tracks on there already but I’m in the works of creating more in-depth works of art, including EPs and eventually a full album. So stay tuned!

Thanks for reading and I hope you will continue to follow me during my artistic journey!

Feedback (especially comments) are always appreciated.

Peace & B Wild,

The Author

 

Jealousy Can Be Healthy

thats my theory, anyway.

Ever read a book by an author that seemed to express feelings in ways that you never knew were possible to say so (seemingly) easily and made you feel emotions that you didn’t even know were possible? Or heard a piece of music that made you astral project out of your physical form, out into the stratosphere and could feel clouds slip through your fingers as you flew past?  Or played a video game so immersive that you can’t possibly comprehend that you’ve actually spent as many hours in it that the screen says you have as you save your progress before taking a piss break?

The creators of those kinds of works…fuck them. Seriously, those assholes can go fuck themselves with a Hepatitis infected tree branch whittled with a carving knife by an ISIS kamikaze bomber in the bathroom of a suburban elementary school. I say that with love, of course.

For if folks didn’t feel this way, art would cease to exist. No one would be inspired and no one would be under the influence.

Everything comes from something. The next Big Idea will inspired by something, the same way cavemen were inspired to create a mini fire source, like the flaming orb they saw in the sky. Or the way a young boy will aspire to grow up and harm millions of people the way his presidential father did. It’s a beautiful cycle that will never end and, hopefully, never will.

Nothing is wholly original. Everything has already been done, even if nobody’s seen it before. But that doesn’t make it any less significant.

There are authors and artists I look up to and will probably surpass some day but it will never be me who comes to that conclusion. Some lone kid will come across something I’ve created and go, “Oh my god, this guy is brilliant. Fucking asshole.” Meanwhile I’ll be ignoring whatever accolades come my way and reading a novel from 30 years before I was born, saying the same thing.

Comparison will kill you, this is true, but having nothing to compare yourself with is death itself. 

So fuck everyone who is far more talented than I will ever be. I hate you and I hope you live long and prosper.