Tired goodness with a measure of inadequacy?

I move onto a feeling of forgiveness to the man of time and tell him that I really don't understand how the things in life move onto other things that really don't have a say in your manners to the bedside chat. I move in bewilderment and bring a cushion of sorrow and think of ways that I can make this life a better table side chat with moves of a wild side and think that If I push five letters to a mix of wild words I may actually move into a better spot on this side of a metro rail with fingers to come about a iron side of indifference. I move with a mobility that dancers would be very jealous of. i move with a trepidation that schizophrenics would think was dangerous. i move with a indignation that would make a homeless man think it was a great idea to finally get a job. I think i would make five fathers proud that the came about without making a squeamish squirrel think he finally had a say in the matter of getting nuts into his nest so he can finally move into that condo he was thinking about surprising his family with. I don't know if the context of this letter makes sense. I move with the fine feathers ruffling over the ninety rolls of garlic cloves that came to celebrate the five virtues of insantiy and realized that It really doesn't make a difference if life after death equals chocolate covered bacon wrapped butter. I dream of indifference. I dream of night terrors that make no impact on my life. its the dreams that make the night better. It makes me think I finally have a chance to pursue the happiness in my life an not brood over the sad times that make up the majority of my life. I think of things to make widows weep. It makes some sense that I really I will be fine. But Im not really sure if i will be. was this all a trick? i don' know. I digress and move into a state of insanity that won't allow me to move. I move into a dialect that is kept for fools. I shine a light into the abyss and hope that i can move that light forward and realize that I was happy with minor details. Does the pursuit of happiness include bacon? I think if you realize that one move out weighs another than you have the horn by the bull. I mix things up to catch the eye. I don't mix batter to the questions of life. I know what it is. A color that you decided to pick. Its all your fault not mine. Its the first time I make you the guilty party.

I have been discovered

What does the man in the black hat do now? The word is out and people now more then ever know who he is. Will this change the dynamic of the writing. It was true feelings and emotions typed on a page. An outlet that was stealth as was the reputation of this egomaniac. It took no courage to write these things. If a chipmunk knew that squirel knew about his shit would he still try to move on his game. I don't think so. It doesn't make sense anymore the wizard told the warlock. It makes a five dollar bill so boring that even a canadian nickle could bring a wasted sense of urgency to the black market so Miss Smith can finally have that chocolate covered pickled herring from the store she frequents on Sunday afternoons. It makes no sense to divulge the secrets of the open toed one faced man. I laugh and cry all at the same time. You don't know that pickle will always be friends with coleslaw. It just happens. I move to make the man in the black hat a figure to be figured and a lion in a sheeps loin trying to hide from breakfast on a tuesday morning. I bid farewell to the worries and will continue on my freakish adventure of clicky clack on the keyboard. Hopefully somebody will be entertained. I for one am. Rest in Peace my friends...

Scorned

I title a new biography with a solemn vow to weed out the insecurity's of man and monkeys. I move into a abyss of toilet paper and nachos covered with avocado and cheese hoping that a little man will play a card and move past the masses threat envelop a freedom i can't express. I wonder why the people who deserve to die do and the people do don't. Its a rhyme that one has no answer for. A parallel life that has a cross street to oblivion with no timetable for a with drawl. It makes no sense says the pied piper of perfection. It makes a sting from a wasp gentle and subtle with a taste of thoughtfulness that is intersected by a whim of fancy from a gentlemen holding a cup of cherries basked in the light from a dim silhouetted moment. I cherish these moments. I hope you understand. This means nothing to me. It is a emotional roller coaster brought upon by the scourge of many paupers. I laugh with disgust. I'm morbidly timid of the child within me. I scream out loud. I'm done I say. I'm out.

We move on in an infinite fog unbeknownst to others of our impending collision into oblivion. We move through these times in a daze wondering what will become of these moments in our life that we thought were so important. We stressed over the bullshit and thought we wouldn't be able to move on to the next minute of our lives because this moment would not pass. This to shall pass. What a crock of shit. Of course it will pass of course. Even if you weren't here it would pass. We are a small dot on a scale so grand an massive that we don't comprehend the unimportance of our lives. Yet we move to a different tune and believe that what we do know effects the entire world. Its a great thought.
I whisper into a shadow of a white framed window with a ten sign pushing two cups of hot chocolate into a tree lined forest of green munchkins dancing on skittles with a horned toad tree frog skipping on tiles full of snot and chocolate covered escalades. A water truck moves with cherries and dull black shirts moving through a door while shouting donuts rule the world. Its a black car driving past a white van with a roof ladder tied to its hip with a candy cane mentality with a fat troll doll on a pencil singing tra la la. Its a badge of courage for one monkey swinging from a tree top to a roof top moving through the evolution period that was masked with mistakes of grandeur filled with yellow bananas to be passed out with pink bonnets of scotch in a beer can. she looks sullen as she moves through the door. No doubt that something was troubling her. A stark contrast with the cocky air that this gentlemen comes in right behind her with his sweater vest that he must believe is that reason he is the coolest person in the room. In reality he is a moron with a hell bent passion of finding muffin scraps in garbage cans so others cannot determine the reason he has no life whatsoever. Its easy to judge with a peanut wafer in your pocket. It brings a certain amount of prudence to hear that you Will be there reason for such a crazy vilified argument. Sit right here he is told. He listens dutifully while not understanding the reason for the command. I push a pencil towards him and hope that he will be able to understand why the command was told. I laugh with a pretentious amount of babble. This cannot be I screamed again to the man in the black hat. I told you I don't want to listen to this rhetoric. He blushed. I don't believe I have ever made him do this before. In some slight unimaginable way I think I did it. I move on to another segment of my life and realize the burden that falls upon me at this moment. I knew it. I realize my problem this entire time. I have to come to the realization that has been stopping me my entire life.. I smile a big smile. I'm not wrong. I'm not right. I just have an understanding for the reasons of my life. Its all subliminal. Its a mental handicap. A precaution that has been set up. Its a yellow tape blocking access. I finally know why. Its very enlightening. At this moment I conclude this chapter and move on.

a lonely black hat

Today as I peered down past my fancy black blazer and through the pinstripes of my longsleeve shirt I came to the realization that I will be forever alone. I sit there and think for a minute and realize that I cannot carry a conversation with a pigeon. I am morbidly afraid of shadows and I move in ways that can't be forgotten. I move with a weird feeling. I am okay with this. I am okay with the feeling that comes with it. I move towards other things. I will toil and labor and forget the feelings I have. I am done. I move towards quietness. I digress. I move on.

Simplicity beckons towards mediocrity and gets rejected again

I get to finish off where I started. I get to talk of pain and deliverance of and unbeknowst torment of simplicity and taciturn events that really spill the fruits of an undying devotion to a pristine melancholy sadness of and infinte kind. I wish upon a star to the likes and the wants of above. I hope that I was able to reach the many people I wanted to touch and have an effect on the life that I yearned for. I hope I can move in the shadows of the dead. I hope I can move to and ealry rising of the full moon sun. The man in the black hat sits and laughs at me and points to his wrist. The watch of life is in full bloom thinking I can have a moment of hapiness in the war torn average life of indiscretion and lonliness that I cannot fathom to be a life I would want with anyone else. Move to the stars and wish upon a kind starlet of forgiving being to think that you can have a say in what happens in life. I hope I could forget the lonely misery that awakens me. I hope I can push the sorrow away from the unfitting form of humanity that awakens me from my slumber. I laugh in the face of adversity hoping I can become one with the monkey. I laugh I cry. I bring a rose from its seed to its thorn. I move in to a position of assertion. thinkging that the effect of a meaninful and skillful life will make a change in the way that people treat me and the respect given to a clown on a mid summers day. I move to a different beat with a sum of fours divided by a multiplier of six. Its a way of moving between a rock and a hard place. Its moving through a camber of spirits and not being moved to an extent that will placate the few that need to be summoned upon a wing tipped prayer. You sing lada dada when they want you to hum dada lada. Its a precarious situation where one builds upon the low self esteem of others. Pushing toward a simple goal of making a friend in a world that doesn't belong to a simpleton. It works in mysterious ways I tell you. If for every penny I got a dollar the man in the black hat screams. I laugh at him this time as he saunters aways thinking that he makes sense. I move to another corner in the room and shoot a quick glance in the corner where he once stood and look up at the ceiling and dance a little jig to myself. I laugh as I think of a sick joke my cat told me. I think of life and how simple it once was. Simple is for suckers yells the man in the black hat as he falls on his face. I laugh and realize it is that simple.

Wicked brings about arrogance in small denomiantions

I bring a few points to my self to thing of arrogance lost. I walk these pathways of life hoping for a change of pace and a feather to really bring out the blue squirrels that danced with the acorns from the fruit of a missle tree. I think of a word that my friend screamed at me the other day. "Scort" he shouted violently. It wasn't directed toward me but I saw something within in him that day that freaked me out. I wandered helplessly wondering what I saw in him that made him act so crazy. Was I to blame for this selfish diabolical dream that moved toward me. I didn't know how to react. So with much bewilderment and trepidation I moved slowly towards him and patted him on the shoulder and when he turned around I surprised him with a violent jab to the face. He fell to the floor and started wailing like a little child. I knew then our friendship was over and I told him to get on with his life and not to be afraid of the man in the black hat. I think in my mind of those days and wonder what brought me to this predicament I am now in. I wondered where I went wrong and who did I wrong. I'm a clown in a red dress hoping that I will step into the light and realize that I have become the other one. I have become he who shall not be named. I again ask the Man in the Black hat what he thinks of me and my predicament and what should I do. He looks me straight in the eyes and tells me that my life sucks. I am now seething inside and have no outlet for my anger. I realize that his opinion is just a myriad of jaded jargon not even encompassing a iota of truth. That his opinion is based on a rambling rhetoric really meant for juvenile child implications with no reason of sanity. I move along slowly wondering what to do next with my time and wonder what secrets I have to pass along. I brush up against a tree and fall to the floor. I pick myself up and move in another direction. I am lost and have no bearing on the path or journey I am supposed to take. I move in an opposite direction and hope that I will have the man in the black hat to at least offer a hand in my time of need. I only see a single pair of footsteps through the trying times of my life. I know I walked it alone many times and I realize that the footsteps being made before me are of one pair of legs. I embrace this and move on with my head some what high and a inkling of self doubt that needs to be squashed. I move in a way that gets me going. I look at the brash young people to my left grinning from ear to ear and knowing that they too are in the same predicament as I once was before. I move with conviction and pass them without looking back. I move one foot forward and sit down with a glass in my right hand. I look in side and its empty. I don't know the meaning of this I gasp. The man in the black hat moves to my right and pours a glass of scotch for me. I accept this token of kindness but look carefully up at his face. Its dark and sinister and I don't know if I could trust him. I lick my lips and feel the saliva in my mouth building for the taste that has been building up for me since the bottle poured out the delish drink before me. I bring the glass to my nose and smell the sweet aroma of the beautiful twenty year aged aromatic liquid before me and dive into the flavors. At this point in time my mind wanders away from the cares of the world and the problems at hand. I sit down and forget the emotions and the pitfals. I don't care to feel anymore. The man in the black hat nods ever so carefully and departs mysteriously as I close my eyes and let the black envelop me. I'm done I say and to all a good night.