Ha ha fuck you life

There is a certain joy in being the loneliest guy in the world. It comes with the territory of not being loved and not caring to an extent of being loved. False bravado is displayed and a feeling of self worth is depreciated to an extent that one cannot fathom. I cannot describe this feeling of being alone in a world of uncertainty. I hate what I have become. I wish this upon no one. The feeling of sorrow and misery that envelopes me. I'm alone in this tin can with nothing but a wish that someone will crack open the lid of my unhappiness and release the child inside of me. I hate what I have become. I don't like the person I am. I wish a wish I cannot have. I dream a dream of cheating life and becoming something I am not. Life has looked at me and I have realized that I don't think much of it and I am better off traveling to a place that is dark and bitter. I hope that I can pass the time of my loneliness and stab it in the neck. I wish for a little and not ask for much. I hope that I can see a light that shines in a welcome way upon the loneliness of life. Help me to become the man I want to be. Not the pathetic lose r that I feel I am. I am miserable in my cocoon of self loathing with not an iota of feeling or a care really I have become what I resent the most. I don't want this life. I want joy and happiness not the sad pitiful life I wander through aimlessly include wishing was a leaf turned over finding fried bacon covered in pork rinds with a side of honey mustard. I don't regret slicing for a pickle two legs up with a side of corned beef ham. I relinquish all my debts to society with the proverbial fish sandwich baking in. A dish of sauerkraut brought on by a locust pool of veggies with a cornhole offering of a plane flying by with not a care in the world offering a delusion of grandeur that downtown spindles with the life of a monkey twice thrown into a fire belly beast with cream of tartar thrown into the mix. I hate what has become of me screamed the monkey to the goat. I can't stand the reason monkeys have become a tribal source of infinite wisdom to the sacred sorrow of multiple ions of universes divided among salsa loving cryptic bug wielding creatures. I laugh in disgust as my mother cries in a pain that people should not feel. I pity the fool that has to feel the sorrow in my voice. I digress into oblivion of a fool that believed that he made a difference in the life of the people around him. It was fine and dandy like a candy. Screw you. I laugh in your face while I spit in your eye. I win says the court jester. It's all a game while you sit on the curb with your smug grin and lychee colored shirt thinking that one day you will understand the word spoken by your supposed peeps. Life sucks you suck I win. On that note I move to another level of existence.  Peace out bitch

Meangless Drivel

Its an antiquated custom of pulling a feather out of your hair and giving it to the first unsuspecting person you stumble upon. ?"I would rather give you a quilt then a dagger" I once told a man. It makes me humble to believe that i would go so far as to extend an olive branch to my mortal enemy then to hang out with a family member whom i fear is the last link of existentialism. I wonder out loud what have a done to deserve this life. this life of mediocrity and nothingness devoid of humanity and loving and a pigs brain. I wish sam i am that I could move on in adventure and thrill and throw monkeys at a tree hoping they sling shot past me to a place that I remember of long ago filled with the dread and the rumblings of a time once sought after with a splash rudeness covered in tin foil. I do declare that war is upon us. It is a war of words and a war of thoughts and reasons this world is wrong. I do plan on standing my ground. Sticking a fist in the sand and making a right from a wrong. I declare myself.. Incompetent. I declare the void in my life as not important. A self realization that loneliness is as important as happiness. It takes a certain kind of animal to come to the realization that he, she it or they need nothing and nothing needs them. I look on to another world that makes a point of bringing the hammer down on the bullshit. I write mysterious phrases that in a way have no point to anything. I write to no one. I think of no one. I hate no one. I live this life to a point that is great. Life is like a crude partner.. evil and cunning with icicles thrown out of a semi-truck window hurtling at you at 100 mph while you try to duck and avoid it at all costs. Hide in your closet and let it slip by. That is what we all do. Life is like.. Life beckons to those who reach out for life's hand and take that tumble down the rock path. to those who i have forsaken to those who i have forgotten.. I try not to forget.. I try to forget that I have forgotten.. I move on in a way that does not allow me to move on. I miss my life.. my comfy couch my alter ego of self depriciating vowels and constansts strewn together to form a bond of meaningless drivel. That is all I spew non-stop.. Meaningless drivel.. On so my friends or friend or aquaintance.. I move on and I pause to reflect the words I was told many years ago.. Hash Browns

Black Hat out!

Imagination is Unwarranted

I once met a man from nantucket who decided to hit me with a bucket. It was a lesson I learned quickly that I can't trust a person from the deep south. It was a tried truth brought about by a weird crazed phenomenom that can't be digested by just drinking a glass of milk and wondering why televisions sit so flatly on a pedestal of despair. It was a wrong way down the right path of informality with a twisted vortex of turns and returns that don't allow a common man to really understand why one should develop relationships with figments of your imagination. It doesn't justify a doubt in ones mind over the rational thinking of two dogs sitting with their paws in the air. Its a succint combination of lies and laughs with a sprinkling of sarcasm mixed with an ounce of doubt. If there ever was a reason to doubt once self esteem it is now. It takes the time of many men thinking of random thoughts and twisted dreams of debauchery. I wish there was a slipe and slide through life. Weaving through the conomdrom of existence with a smidgen of laugther through the eyes of a wandering nomand unsure of his last check he deposited when he had that job in new mexico making burritos and salsa. It was a dark day driving on the left hand side of the road with a twinkle in an eye hoping that he had a close relationship with the gravy he smothered on his chest. It brings me great joy to see that he was able to bring it down upon the many people he learned to hate. I bring to you laughter and relief. It brings me great pleasure to introduce to you.. Blah

A Fight with Pickle

Sandwich said to pickle.. "I'm sick and tired of being paired up with you.. " Pickle wasn't to happy about the confrontation so he inquired with mayo and ketchup why they were such a tasty pairing and why he couldn't have that same relationship and why he really had no say in the matter. What this all means in some weird crazy way is that chocolate has diarrhea and fried chickend has the mumps. I really don't know how to let you in on the real secret. If there was a time that I had a plethora of options to delay the inevitable time swap of manic depression brought upon by a manic ass clown then I could tell you. There comes a point in your life where you take a toothbrush over a toothpick and realize that it was the wrong decision. You come to that crossroad of thinking that white is better then black. Its a metamorphasis of unpretentious children sitting in hammocks having ice tea and discussing the way things were and the the way they should be. You analyze rhymes and riddles and hope that you have figured out what that stench was in your basement. Its a pickle that wound up being upset at the sandwich. Its a feeling of brutal lonlieness and a target above the navel of a monkeys right toe. Its a shot that came out from left field. It really makes no sense I tell you. Its a stupid proposition that will get you absolutely nothing. It makes no sense that a white pigeon will sing a black song. It makes complete sense that a turkey will sing its final song. I hope the man in the black hat explained to you in detail that it really doesn't make any sense to try to fight off the impulse of undying affection you have for strawberry short cake. Its a muffin tin fulll of marbles that will get you a backlashing from a pigmy python on a power trip. I wish you truly understood the mind of a maniac that takes shots at the biggest mistake of it all was trusting Bacon with Tomato while Lettuce was on vacation. I digress while I undress the opinions of all my other produce rotting in my bottom drawer of my fridge. I miss pickle.

One is the lonliest number

I know why people sing songs. I know why people sing of lonliness and of heartbreak. It is what makes us. It is what makes life real. I wish I can say hapiness is year round and that is makes all the sense in the world to be happy at all times. I truly don't know what i'm feeling right now. I read something that should make me happy and it does make me happy but I at the moment am not happy. It makes me worse off then before. A black cloud has engulfed me and I am once again sad. A pathetic version of myself just exploded onto the scene. Its a rational moment that I cannot face the lining of a veiled bra with an underwire that poked me in the eye. Shoot me now for I forever am in your piece of mind with a banana and a sausage mocking you to a means that has no end and an end that has no means. I procrastinate in a world that has no belongings and no ill will towards humanity. This is the world that I see coming for me. A place of decadence and flowers with wilted and jilted lovers coming from a hind quarter of a midget man bouncing on pebbles of broken glass and a case of kaliks brought from a moment that would seem would live in eterenity. I digress and I redress hoping that for one minute I am able to follow the sense of accomplishment I was hoping to feel. This is not so painful I thought. It all made sense before. I move on and wimper. I know what it is like to be the sad man.. to be hated, to tell only lies.....

I was watching TV the other day and realized that i had no clue what i was watching it was a program talking about monkeys and I realized I always wanted a monkey. Is it so hard to really want something that you can't have. I think there is a way that I can have what I want and yet not have what I want. This makes sense in some convoluted way as I sit in my hammock and hope that I can bury a unkown amount of cheese in my backyard. I will horde it and hope that it will stay for that one time I have a party and everyting will workout. I thought about firing my hamster the other day. He fills all the requirements for a lazy worker. sits around eats all day and really does nothing. He doesn't have a clue that he is about to get laid off.. Ha Ha. My pet dog just told me how funny it is that the hamster is going to get fired. If he only knew he was next that ungrateful bastard. I really hope that I can find some sense to the meaning of a green candle burning on a full moon. It really doesn't make sense for a one armed monkey to wave to me. I don't want him falling from his tree while he whistles a tune of sadness and desolation. This seems to be my word of late. Desolation, lonliness.. Wow. I will chanel the man in the black hat to show me a think or too!

All the glitters is not golden

I wish i could on a piece of sand and really let you know how it feels to be bleeding from a object that is near a destitue clunking machine called my heart. There was a way that i used to travel back in the age and day of time. A reason for hope and a reason to laugh. There was a means to the end a progress of time and the leap of faith. It was a card given to an old friend and a shallow forgetful kiss into oblivion. You think you know what I'm talking about shouted the man in the black hat. But my friend you ahve no clue what it really means to wake up in a dreadful sweat and be intoxicated by a ravenous ellyfish. I wish I could explain to you what makes the beetle tick. I wish i could tell you how it was once a loud and smelly turtle that made the sense to pick up the tattered sign on the road of life. It was a black and white drawing the drew him into the black wall. It was the toast of life and the needle in the thread. My friends I have no clue what to give you for your birthdays. I would like to give you a hamster or maybe a toothpick laced brush to run through your hair. I wish I could give you glitter to place it on your cherised belongings and to sing a song.. Sing Tra a la a la! Will that make it better. I do not know. I don't know anymore.. I have lost the last ounce of self decency. I have read a book that had no meaning. I have too many times shut down myself and placed an important meaning into the hands of someone who told me to just shut up. I plead for forgiveness from the one who doesn't think I should be forgiven. I want to yell and scream but have realized toad doesn't want to be friends with rabbit. It was a crazy mixed up world he shouted. I hope you can get me a piece of caramel shouted squirrel to rabbit. I will get you soon,
I will get you soon...