Music To My Ears

As the music pumps through the speakers in my ears I think of things that have been going on in this world and bring myself to the rhythms of joyful happiness that exists in life today as I move through the day to day transgressions of a individual blessed with a morbid obsession of the inanimate. I wonder quietly what brings me to move through these days. The endless toiling of grilled cheese sandwiches brought to friends who would rather face the endless ridicule from step fathers then stepmothers. I move through the hall of this house. The walls painted a peach blue with a indifference that can be seen by the whimsical features of a brunette soap dispenser. I could see myself opening a door into the netherworld with a fist pump and a shout out to the other side. Looking forlorn and whimsical and thinking they really have a clue when it comes to coming up with complicated features that compliment the atheist tea avenger.
I listen to the night chime into the inert voice of the stranger next to me. I take the time to really look at his face. The weather has done no justice to this man. I notice the crows feet, the laugh lines and the sun spots predominately telling everyone this man has seen life more then once. I think to myself what has this poor soul seen or even heard. Life wears on the most resilient of souls. It is a cruel mistress that stresses even the most strong and profound souls willing to fight and stand up for the front that is thrown at them. I still marvel at what time has done to this poor man. I see the longing in his eyes for a better tomorrow. The wisdom that has been given to this man which is unfortunately in the wrong hands. Its the secret to life and no one has a clue as he is passed over everyday without at least a glimpse or a afterthought to giving credence to a man with the world in his pocket. I think to myself how can I sell this to everyone; to open their eyes to this revelation and you just don't know what you can be in this life. I know I would like to be someone. Are you someone?

a way we once were

I bring upon myself a different level of indifference. I move towards a different beat from the average man. I have a friend that follows me around and feels for me in the times that I fall on my face. His way of showing he cares is by pointing and laughing. He won't offer a hand to help. I have come to the realization in my life I am alone in the choices I make. I don't have a person to help with the most important aspects of life. I bring a different ryhme and reason for the insanity that folows me so closely. I bring forward a fast pick of faith on the emotion from the diffent aspects of twisted sorrows to bring you a level of substance misunderstood by the perspective of a witch hunt on the basic levels of emotions for which I have no control over. I think of reasons to move forward and to care for different things that should matter to the most feable of minds. I don't understand the misunderstood souls of so many that don't understand what it means to have what it takes to move forward. I realize that I don't know if i want to help these people in my life. I move with different feeligns of guilt and feelings of not knowing if it makes sense to move with these feelings. What are feelings are they real? The sinking feeling in your chest is a real feeling or is it just a mind blowing event that really is a figment of your imagination. You write a letter pouring you heart and sould and the feeling is there. You wonder how much of the basic decisions in life are based on a false emotion that leads you to believe that you will once again be the man in the black hat for one day. You will be that guy you alwasy wanted to be. The soul of life that brings forth the angst and ambition of many people. You move towards a feeling in your mind. it fades and dies like a light extinguished ever so carelessly. I pity you for feeling this way. I am on a tangent. its a line so thin and narrow that I'm not sure I will make it across. its a sanctimonious event brought upone by insecurites of a past fallout with a friend. you told him no and said you wouldn't speak to him again. False pretenses brought forward with the realization that you couldn't figure out that it was a game lost to the man in the black hat. I can't move forward. I don't have the feeling. Its gone...

all around me are familiar faces worn out places

bright and early i move into the shadows and free fall to a place that I remember. I move with no worry and no care. I come to a complete stop and not realize that I was in another mode that really didn't let me the person that I wanted to be. I bring a long of sense of understanding that will not bring five of the people I have lost back to me. It takes a man to admit mistakes. When you realize you have not made a mistake and you are still brought to a sense of misery brought by a thing that is supposed to make you happy you wonder why should this be a lesson taught to me. I look forward through the crystal clear wonders of a man with a vision in his head. I find it hard to tell myself that everything will be all right. I find the symbol that belongs in the spot missing on the shelf. I bring a sense of urgency to the morbid few around me. I take what I know best and I digress. I move with an understanding that yes that feeling that eluded me a few moments ago will come back. I know that understanding look that has given me the reason to live will be there. The water that was shown was that of complete misunderstanding. I know that I will have the time that was meant to be strewn throughout the fall. I move with pride not with prejudice that I have built a monument for the fallen. I will move forward without the angst of understanding. I say I move.. I say I will. I will only come to these things if you come with me. I need this. I don't need the man in the black hat. I don't need him. You know who you are. You know this. I move in a uneven path with not a feeling of doubt anymore. I feel vindicated. There are a lot of eyes looking at me. I feel that this is the moment. Great realizations bring upon great discoveries that have changed many things. I will not be brought down. Out of the corner of my eye I see the man in the black hat looking at me with a scared look. He realizes that he doesn't have me where he wants me. His list has dwindled and the price I pay for the admission to the defeat of the man in the black hat is worth its weight in gold. I move on with the knowledge I will not be forgotten. I laugh nervously. I exude confidence. The man in the black hat can take the path I resist to take. I will not take the beaten path. I will forge my own.

Insincerity at its finest

The man in the black hat peeks out his window and looks at me with a mischievous grin. He knows that he has me right where he wants me, enveloped in the darkness of loneliness. His ploy has worked he has made this a charade for the weak. Its brought about the side of me that I tried to put away. It was a character flaw of a winded buffoon. It was a show of deception and a lesson on perception. It brought a new weakness to my knees. It brought a sense of anguish not felt in a lifetime. I threw the first object I could at him. It hit the wall and shattered into pieces on the floor. I realized right then I threw the object that meant most to me. It was over. I dug myself in and felt the dark envelop me. It was a hopeless fight to save face to the man in the black hat. He has planned this all along. I was number one on his list. He likes the fact that I am completely alone. He thinks that this will be the perfect time to make his move on me. Sensing weakness he believes that victory is his. I don't know what to tell him. I fall back against the wall and slide to the ground covering my face as not to see the pained expression on my face. I move slowly shuffling ever so carefully to the door trying not to make him happier then he already is. He moves over to the door and slams it shuts the noise reverberates throughout the entire room. I wince in pain as feeling completely envelops me. I am numb to feeling and to my surroundings. I take the easy route and feign sleep. I feel his shadow over me and the smile he has on his face. I hear the sounds of his footsteps walk over by me. I hear a rustle of papers and the sound of a pen leaving its indelible strokes on a piece of paper. Suddenly I hear the crumbling and something hits me upside my head. The swift sounds of footsteps walking away and the door slams shut yet again. I open my eyes and find the piece of paper next to me. I carefully open it up being careful not to tear the edges. It was written on a old menu from my favorite restaurant. In large black letters written in all capital letters and in the ugliest handwriting reminiscent of mine were the words. "Welcome back my friend" My heart dropped and me knees buckled. I thought I was past this I said to myself. I walked to my door and locked it, carefully checking to make sure I did this right. I didn't want him to revisit me. I looked around at my empty house and looked in the mirror at myself and shook off the feeling that was creeping in. I can't let it happen again.

A misconception of understanding

I look forward to the times that will become a gainful bliss emotionally and stagnantly. It makes me laugh and wonder if all that we come forth to appreciate is appreciated. with a base lump of unimaginable understanding fraught with pennies of bliss. I think I have come to the conclusion that so many people don't understand me. I don't understand myself. Its a rhyme less rhythm of mistakes and manageable faux pas that bring me to the realization that I don't have a clue really what I want. It comes from a hamsters mind that I not trust the wheel that I so have be come used to being part of my routine. I think of sorrows that i Laugh and spin in an interlude of mixed feelings that stain the fabric of my mind. I bring a laugh to some but to many I bring tears. I don't know if this was the reason for my bringing candles to a shower. I think the light would have brought my gloomy view to light with not so much as a voice of reason to turn around the uneasiness of longing. I don't think i truly understand the insatiable appetite of destruction. It feels good to bring down the walls that have surrounded my thoughts. I really wish I had the sledgehammer when the walls were in my way. I pushed through the caverns of darkness and pushed through to the other side. I brought about many feelings and conjured up memories long forgotten. I bring you a character with ill deceit and no feelings of pain or forgiveness to those that have hurt me most. I wander in the distance and in the pain of the rain coming down like a torrent of nails hindering my every move and sight. It doesn't make for much of a story if there is no pain. I don't know how to move into this new world. I am a lost soul moving endlessly through one piece of regret while the other piece of me is lost in a unmoving satisfaction. I think a loud and realize that the man in the black hat is staring me down. I gleefully look to him with no ounce of remorse. I look deeply into his eyes as he stares me down. I realize I have the upper hand in this situation. I realize that I have won the battle of words. I know that he has nothing on me today. There have not been many days that I could say I have the triumphed over the this man with a black hat. I polish off my apple jacks and drink the milky goodness that remains in my cereal bowl. I cherish these little moments and push past the cloud of self doubt and move towards that exist. The man in the black hat mutters under his breath that there will be a next time. I twist my entire body into his direction raise my index finger and look at him assertively. Today is my day you bastard. Today is mine.

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...