hehe so fun to be evil and dark. don't you know? don't you want to be too? and yet we can't let ourselves go.
there's something kind in being mean. there's something truthful in being mean to those that we hate. yes we hate those that we hate. you may want to be altruistic but you're lying. everyone is. everyone is. well we all know that you know your fuck head charlies too. you hate someone. you are annoyed by someone and it's you that i'm peering into. and it's your eyes that i see through when I hate the dude on the corner in the cowboy hat and cutoff shorts. hate is a part of all of us hilter you are and I am too.

dance all night and play all day
don't let nothing give it away
"Shake it Up" The Cars

Mirror Being

Mirror Being and I let go and I let go. Mirror Being what was it that I wanted to say? What was it that I wanted to capture about the Being of one in space and time without identity? I walked through streets and no one paid attention to me. I walked through stores and no one cared. I drove down highways past cars full of kids in the backseat that pointed without care at me. Mirror Being here I sit and look and stare at the watch on my wrist and watch. Watch me. See me. These aren't demands that I make of you but that I do for me. Shit. This is going somewhere that I think is good. and Yet here I am writing in front of you, right in front of you.
Look at me and see me.

Don't turn away and pretend that I wasn't there. and there i was closing my eyes after I looked at you and you didn't look at me. Fa la la la la la I laughed as I danced down the street and in this city no one turned around to look at me. The mad man that wants to be seen, in between those that parade around in disguises and masks. Well here I am I want you to fucking look at me until your eyes bleed. I want you to look at me until you can't see anyone other than me. I want to be out there to be among you, to be apart, to be integral to the whole, i want to bebebebebebebebe, and there it it is and there it is and i look at my watch to make sure that the time is right that the time is right for me to be me.

i walked down the sidewalk of brick built buildings, and there was nothing but the heat of the sun on my shoulders. no one walked past me and no one passed me. a cigarette hung between my teeth and my breathing kept the step of it. i wandered down roads i had ridden down on a bike too small for my age even when i bought it. left and right at the end. trees to the otherside and behind me as well. left and to the right. boston house of pizza. bhop. in the direction that i wanted to go. bus number 86, there are people who live there still. a uhaul van once parked here. once it was impossible to find a parking space and a jeep parked on top of a snowbank. once i was 23 or 24. once i was young and living in the city. once i lived on the coast but now i'm middling at the most. once i was young with a toy room full of fun. now shelves limit the mess i've made. it's not a sadness because it works. it's not anything but a comparison realization of the then and now and never more.
do do do dee do do

And the colored girls go
Doo, doo doo, doo doo, doo doo doo...

Please listen to Sun Kil Moon's cover of Modest Mouse's "Space Travel is Boring"

faction. (i turn my head to the east, i don't see nobody by myside)

why is it reaction and not action?
why is it external and not interal genisis from the god inside?
there's a stimulus that I just can't quit
because it pushes me against what i feel inside
but i can't tell what i feel until i feel that push from outside.
and such is the paradox, the reaction to the action reaction.
don't i want to know what's on the inside without waiting
for you
for you to ask me what's on the inside,
but you only ask because someone asked you.
floating in the space time of my time and never wondering who's the
spirit i see spectoring infront of me.

yes it's easy to react, but it's difficult to act.

bah

and I've had enough
of the rhyme rigmarole rhyme,
there was a time when what you said
was profound as you mixed up your nouns
and pronouns for the his her and its.
and i've had enough of the thing meant to be another, the random
positing of a tool as a sign and there you go and off you go and where you went I
didn't foolow, that's right foolow not follow.

there is the ashtray burning butts and the sunset soaking up the smoke and the clouds gathering over a stormy head that thinks only in riddles.

there are the yams frying on the grill under the heat of an ecotane burning. that's what it seems like.
that's what you played like, and in the moon light
you didn't realize that there's something else going on in the factory of nothingness.
see i can ape too. see i can monkey around with the language English.
too.
and it's all the drivel that you dribble from your mouth like fire water burning like
neon gold that's worth less than golgotha.