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Thursday, June 28, 2007



Fried St. In Flames

Current mood: disappointed



I was sitting in Kharmas at around 11pm, tonight, surfing the web on my lap top, with a couple of homeless Emo Fry St. rats....two of the few that I could tolerate...Suddenly, everyone jumps from their seats and surges out the door to see the once, The Tomato, burn utterly to the ground. I was the only one, still sitting in Kharmas, not really caring to associate myself in the drama. My friend Bill asked me to come out and see the show...and reluctantly, I joined him. There were fire works being blown out of the building, and the flame raised three times as high as The Tomato. Cool Beans (The bar right next to it), was almost set into flames, as well. The phone lines caught on fire, and a car parked right next to it was burning. It was illegally parked there, so it deserved it as far as I'm conserned. lol All of the fire on the phone lines made the electricity go out all over Fry St., and the businesses evacuated their people. The Fire Trucks, police, and ambulences came, and shut off the entire block between Hickory and Oak. The side of Fry St. between Oak and Hickory is made, mostly of wood, so the fire could have taken atleast one half of Fry St, if it continued to spread. People could have seriously been hurt. This message was evidently an uneffective attempt to protest corporation consuming Fry St. It really only emcourages it, by bringing a change of atmosphere, and providing less labor for construction workers to tear down the buildings. lol Earlier, this week, they were spray painting over historic murrels...which had been a highlight for art and culture on Fry St. for decades. Further more, killing the spirit of creativity and culture there, that is now truely lost to drama and drunks. There were probably about 1,500 people out on the lawn, and side streets of Fry St. watching the flame in action. The press, photographers, and phone camera junkies all recorded it. I'm sure it will be fluttered all over the internet tomorrow. It was one of the biggest flames that I have ever seen, which says a lot coming from me. lol While walking home from Fry St. I could smell the smoke from blocks away, nearly to my house. The Fry St. rats were all rounded up in cuffs, including the two homeless ones that I was with. In witness of this, there is no peace movement to save culture and creativity...It truely has changed...not soley to corporation crash....but everything that art condemns...destruction, havok, and hatred...

Thursday, June 21, 2007



Drug Redemption...Keeping My Commitment...

Current mood: optimistic



On a night of optimism, and entertainment, I was associated with a most unlikely acquaintance, alone at Rip Rocks, going to see Fatty Poindexter. This person was a bit tipsy, but was kind enough to buy me a few drinks, converse in deep thought, unlike most, and help me to down load new prgrams for movie pirating to keep me entertained on the nights I'm bored with nothing to do. He had other plans in mind, in search of coccain, and even legally armed. We coversed about our various drug experiences, which are ofcourse numerous, on my account. lol He offered me an amphetamine pill that he had with him, after I had offered an opium pill for epilepsy, in my prescription. I made the exchange in our prescription containers under the table, where it was easy to conseal. We walked around, conversing in casual conversation, once more, and I offered to uy him a beer, sharing my grattitude for him buying me several. Soon, I departed to the rest room, and when I came back...I lost him in the crowd, and apparently we made our departure. A friend of mine, who is a regular drug user, herself asked me what my "wifey" would think about me "lying" to her, and that I was pretty much a fuck head for doing so...yet it was merely medication, and not really a recreational drug. She admitted that she "obviously" had nothing against the drug use...just the lying....which at the time, only a couple of hours ago, seemed sort of two-faced, giving me advice on not lying, but it being okay to take drugs. We're good friends, and I do not wish to see it end. I reasoned to myself...that really doesn't justify my actions...I made a commitment to stay off of them totally, and not even take them moderately. There are just some things that she doesn't need to know about, for her own good, I reasoned once more...but ultimately the consumption of it isn't the right thing to do, and there is no way to justify it. I owe my friend an apology, which I'm sure she'll accept, and know I'm speaking of her, because she is a reader of my blogs. I walked back home, thinking what I had gone through to pull away from that life style, what I've learned, and the second opportunity I had been given to discontinue it, after a near death experience, this past January. I was at my house, sitting on my front porch, staring at the pill...and wondering why I even considered taking it....I wasn't going to let something this pathetic control my life again, when I don't have to. I haven't been in the most lightening of moods these past few weeks, and it seems as if you turn to old addictions and habbits to numb the suffering....especially when it's the specific drug, suitable for the ease. Everything that I have fought through to give it up, and still being in control of my life, never even being cought for it, would turn to hypocrisy for doing what I have vowed not to do many months ago. I took the pill that I was staring at, crumbled it to pieces, and through it out in the air in rejection of it. I then washed my hands clean of it. I'm not making any apologies, because it's human to consider temptation from time to time...yet whe I rejected it, I felt like a stronger person because of it, and it really had no power over me. I was in control of my life, once more, given another chance to sustain and make better of what good that there is in my life. I went from being a potential converted addict once again, to throwing it out of my life, in only a couple of hours, and the refreshed cycle begins again. I know a lot of negative came of this, but the positive out weighs it, and I'm not going to obsess over it....just wake in the morning with the knowledge that my life can continue in my control and appreciate greatly, the little self-esteem that I have that's re-building once again. I know that I may have been better off keeping my mouth shut about this, as far as my fiance is consernrd, and I know she'll be a bit disappointed, and bitch tomorrow, but she should ultimately be proud of me, that I came to my sences and rejected it. I just feel the need to express in words, the grace that I've been given, as inspiration to others to let go of the negatives that contol their lives. There is much more to live for. It never seems like it, until you purge yourself of what haunts you, then you have no where to go but up, and redemption to be satisfied with your life is possible...I know I'm preaching now, but I gave up the one thing that haunted me most, and I feel like a better man because of it...it can happen for you, as when you consider the good, whatever ammount it may be in your life, and dispose of what you think might bring you happiness, but really drives you into a deep depression. I'm getting some rest now...maybe there is some good in me worth saving after all...

The Cycled Compassion...

Current mood: mellow



The young man, looming into the height of his youth, yet mentally aged in years, has his love firmly grasped in his arms. He holds her close, positioned to his still beating heart, embracing her as his posessed passion, yet his thoughs placed elsewhere. The fullness of the expressions on his face, with the gloom in his shadowed eyes, hang down cast. The negativeness within him is inuitively felt in the soul of his better half, as he tries desperately, yet poorly to hide all of the laments and regrets from her, that he wishes not to mourn her with. "What's wrong, babe?" She asks him with an internally melancholy expression, that he can only see through her internal thoughts. "Why won't he be honest with me?" "What is it, that he is keeping from me?" "Why does he shut me out?" "I wish that there was something that I could do to help him..." He reasons these questions in the examining guilt in her heart, when merely from external view, it appears as a slight look of consern for him. "Nothing," he tells her with a weak smile, to appease her consern. "I'm alright," he adds, hoping to loosen the strain of her curious conserns for his seemingly illogical pessimism. He smiles to her again, conjuring the passionate desire that he has for her love, and the duty that he feels is necessary for her mental stability, not to feel the excrutiating emotional pains, and deepening wounds of regrets that he bares with him by night and day. He leans into her, drawing her close to him once more, kissing her with the strenght of his depression, expressed with the fullness of his complacent compassion. Sealing his lips to her's, the flare of the night evolves to the spirited erotica, raminiscant in that of the romanticism of mythology, and the insurmountable compassion composed from his internal suffering, expressed as a gothic fantasy. "I love you," he tells her repeatedly, as if it was their only form of communication. She expresses him the same thoughts in continuance, through the sequence, and never ending peak of their undying love. The lovers, not sharing the same social interests, and foul lack of communication benigns their spirits ached, not being much for words, yet joyfully share the abundance of their compassion, the unity of their being, and their commitment solidifying their worth. The interaction passes, the conserns of their doubts fade, and they embrace lovingly in the grasp of their arms, the lock of their legs, and the inseperable clasp of their hearts. The chronic gloom of his eyes turn solitary, once more. "What is it, babe?" She asks with the same consern for him, once more. "Close your eyes now, angel," he poetically tells her. "All will be well agaiin when the sun rises," he completes. His thoughts internally sedate themselves, once more. "Some things are better left a mystery..."

Tuesday, June 12, 2007



Last Night's Dream Completed...

Current mood: morose





I had to finish this on Xanga, because my computer at work wasn't letting me post my blog on myspace, for some reason. www.xanga.com/mental_sedation



Thankfully, I can post it here, now...



Tuesday, June 12, 2007

..> ..>

Last Night's Dream Completed

I began to doze, slowly drifting away from the perils of our reality confined in all of its crude matter, and escaped into the mysticism of my imagination. My eyes lifted among my fantasies and I found myself to be sitting in solitude under a single fig tree. My body was illuminated,and the entire setting surrounded me with an animated brightness...Yet there was no grass beneath me, nor sky above me or anyone else in my midst. It was just me under the fig tree succombed into its brightness. I closed my eyes while under the fig tree, as if a philosopher meditating to seek understanding of the secrets of nature. Suddenly, as I awoke into my second entered world, a new setting dawned me. Still tranced in curiosity, observing my surroundings from under the same fig tree, the new world looming was a discreet and uncompromising darkness with not a glimmer of light. I was beginning to feel as if my fantasy was ending, and that I was in my internal home once more. Despite being raveled in this mysterious darkness, the setting had become more elaborate. There was a forrest of decaying trees that had surrounded me now. No longer was there the wonder of visions and curious images, yet the negative receptions of obscure voices from the trees, as if the trees were speaking themselves, but I could not be certain, them being in vague sight of me.The trees began to ramble a choir of confusion and fear, as if they were afraid to be shrouded into the melancholy, life-withdrawing darkness. "Why am I here?" "Why am I alone?" "Why do I feel so ashamed?" Time progressed and the voices grew to anger. "I fucking hate it here!" I want to cruscify the bastard and the bitch for making me feel so worthless!" "Why can't anyone else fucking hear me?!" It saddened me deeply when I heard all of these voices from among every tree in unison, as if they were secluded and the only tree in the forrest, themselves. Time progressed once more, and the anger expressed, grew to an indignified hate. "If I could kill you and eat the ones that you love, I would to show you how much you have suffered me!" "If I wasn't stuck in this place, I would kill you first, then take my own life to ravish and rape you in my hell for all eternity!" "My compassion has all turned to hatred for you, and seeks it's revenge, since you have left me!" Who left these mysterious entities, as if they were created, surplanted alone, originally?...It was as if they were cursed with a passion for resentment for whom they feel neglected by. These mysterious entities began to grow tiresome and depressed in the shackles of their hatred, as their power to be enraged diministhed, and their swelling hate progressed to their suffering..."I have created my own prison." "I have chosen the bondage that I am placed in, creating my own hell that I will eternally dwell." "It's my own demise and my salvation was rejected....I am sorry...." There was not a soul in sight that they could express their sorrow to. There was no one there to stitch the suffering that they all bared, and they were all expressing their regrets for life, as if it was their own fault in creation being cut off in their endless mourning. Tears tricked down my eyes as I could only lament and observe their pain, empathizing with it, myself and feeling as though I was one of them. I saw my form translating into a decaying tree, as the result of my sewn emotions. I closed my eyes once more into the blur of this morbid reality, and awoke, restrained in shackels. I examined my surroundings, and came to find myself in some sort of religious temple with Gothic Byzintine art work engraved on all of the walls, the ceiling, the floor, and to the head of this supposed spiritual Cathedral that one could internally project himself into.I was there, bonded in chains, alone...observing art of various cruscifixions, martyrs, torture of the saints engraved on these walls. I do not feel the need to elaborate on the visions of my surroundings in this building, but all of the symbolism and signs bled spiritual death, enacted upon by external tormenters. I turned to my left, and the configuration of my dream tuned to a still black and white, as a shadowed figure emerged, placing himself to sit with me at my left side. then looking to my right and the configuration once again turned to color. Another figure had approached me. Yet, this time it was not shrouded as a symbol of darkness, but rather an appeasing balance of light. This mysterious figure, came to sit beside me. I was in a trance of euphoria, turning from my left to my right as the color variation turned when I chose to acknowledge both figures seperately. The shadowy figure had little words and revealed himself as my lust and desire for my physical nature. The brighter, seemingly angelic being, revealed itself as my passions, love, and desire for peace. The figures were both unbalancing and in conflict to win me over entirely. They were selfish and poorly represented what I had perceivingly posessed, were well and unique qualities that complimented me both with various offered characteristics that were vital for my stability and I could conjure them individually, when I felt that I needed them. I was growing from fear to anger, to desperation, wanting to escape again ,and merely be nothing rather than conflict, an inconvenience, or a problem. I closed my eyes and awoke into an internal nirvana of darkness awkwardly in an abysmal consciousness of my non-existance I was at peace to know that I was not alive nor existed to anyone. My eyes awoke once more and I was briefly burning...as if my suffering was complete and this was my possible future...In a sequential order I awoke back into my solitudinal darkness, then among the chains with my figured representation and conflict of my varied emotions back through the mourning trees, back to my reverse path, sitting under the fig tree surrounded by light and escaping my internal path, awakening once again to the world that I could not escape nor seem to change....

Tuesday, June 05, 2007



Progressing Time In Solitudinal Thought...

Current mood: contemplative





My softened fingers gently sift through the Autumn wind, glazing through her Sapphire hair. I gaze through the diamond gates of her passionate eyes that compliments her pale winter complection. My thoughts study her expressions, and my external intuition draws closer to her love stricken smile carressing her crimson Spring joyous lips, sulking the life instilled in me, only received from her. My internally forked togue transfigures human form twirling the innocense of her compassionate soul, expressing throughout the wanderof her Summer spirit. I then awake from my fantastic daze, returning to live a reality gloom as the moment fades....so fucking cheesy...Sorry to interupt your mental masturbation, but I type novelous (I don't care if that isn't a real word) blogs as if I were shipping porn spam to all Myspace users. To the day, I have dwelled in relation with my fiance for seven timeless months now...



In my posession, layed on the coffee house table, at The Kharma cafe, I hould four resuming memorabelia that I carry in life. I hold my ball chain necklace that I have had since my Junior Year in high school. It raminisces me of the change of my clothing attire, when it had entirely transfor to darkness emblem, and has continued to be an iconic trenquit that has been seen by all of my friends and acquaintances that I have associated with in my past four years. My class ring that I have warn daily, since October of my Senior Year in high school. The black onx depicts a jewel prescribes from my dark personality, and a representation of an ancient Sumerian superstition that believed it to protection from "The All Evil Eye." This symbols the long period of time that I spent following the Occult. Along the right side, there is an image of two lovers, embracing under the sun light, instilling never fading memories of a failed relationship that impacted the thoughts of my life for years. The third object is my medical prescription for my epilepsy that I have bared since I was of age thirteen. I'm addicted to the opium it contains, still baring the escense and memories of the many years that I was addicted to drugs for induced artistic fluencies and mind altering escapes. The most prized object of the four items is , a set of a black and white various beaded necklace that my fiance had gotten for me, returning from her Caribbean cruise in late February. I do not feel the need to elaborate on the sentiments that it represents, I only know that I should score a lot of points, and increase my chances of a sure lay in the near future. lol



My flaunted past dwells within me like an eternal seed, surplanted for it's same life genre in the future. I had recently crossed paths once again, with an old friennd today, who had been in jail for three months this past Spring semester for a DWI, on academic probation, while still on paroll for massive ammounts of drug posession. He said that he was surprised that I had not been kicked out of college yet, in joking expression, and ended the conversation with the words, "stay you." If it was anything that resembled him, which for years it was, I would be in sincere regret in continuing that life style. Yet, with my continued seeking, there is no one definition for who I am, nor a stable duality....nor absolute values that I live by, which accredits my uniqueness. Everything is always in perspective, and we must combine our insticts and thought to enact on any given situation for the right given moment, in the right given time....In reality, that doesn't really answer shit...and my quest to realize who I am, and my purpose pursues...I have always thought that I would die young, and of unnatural causes, which only until recently, I have reconsidered, due to one that needs me most. I love you, babe. Thus, it is fitting that I catalogue the chronicles of my rambling life, as record of when i was here. Much of my past was very educational, and highly regretted. I honestly do not know my future, and merely a dim light guides my path....but the satisfaction is the adventure that it includes, and the struggled peace that many thrive, yet few find at its end, that I seek to attain....