Writers Block

yeah fuck I gotta write

 I really don't know how to express the amount of angst I've had over not writing for nearly three years.  But I just have to keep writing. It's like part of my soul has been slowly sucked out of me. It feels like it was taken from me. 

But I probably took it from myself. 

I've gone through a lot of transitions.  And lately. I can only make people laugh in emotionally ignorant self reflections.  It's highly unfortunate.  Because at my best. I'm a synesthesiac. I'm not some washed up piece of shit ego maniac.  I feel words.  I feel them pummel into my body like gravity as a dance partner. I feel them like a lover I longed for and a life I fought for. But I do no fight them, I do not bid them fair well. they are in me. Forever.

I do not think people know this when they say words to me.  Perhaps that's why I was so determined to abandon them on of my few refuges in to the roots of the trees I grow flowers on and shit glitter out of, desperately trying to inhail pixie dust as if I weren't human. Or whatever. 

It just pisses me off though really. 

I was a talented fuck. And you know what happened. no. you don't. And that's for the best. Let's leave it like that. 

 I guess.... god. I'll just have to fill you in a bit though won't I. There's a lot of space in here and not all of it's terrible.  It's a terrifying thing to face yourself. I don't think that most people ever do. I have being alone with pages. I love being alone with pages. I get naked all the time.  But here I'm like.... really fucking naked. That's how you know you're ok. When a blank page is exciting. But what do you do when it's just looked like a hospital room and been a symbol of death for so long you'll only ever face it in moments of cancerous thought? I guess you just have to get better.

Afterthougts on a shitty album

 Ignore the painful attempts to reattain an assembly of ego after years without writing my poetry in my synesthetic dew.

It's easy to rhyme.  It's another thing in me though. That follows through the waters of ghosts and finds itself trembling at the precipice of dreams. I don't know what that is. But I can hear it calling me in my sleep. I know it sounds like bullshit, but it's not. It's asking me to wake up, even from my most sound dreams.  It is then I know that only in my own coat can I exit the door and feel sunlight as if it were actually an interaction of dehydrocholesterol in the waking hour of my ability to express myself feeling vaccumed from me in some sort of psychological poetic tyranny.  If I could stop rhyming that'd be lovely.

I'm real (lyrics)

 I'm real

supernatural

I'm real super unnatural

Sell you these treats

cut with vitamin B

Am I made outa vitamins?

Hay'all Portland Oregon

or was that cut up heroin?

You gonna tell me?

Please?

 

I'm real 

supernatural

I'm real 

super unnatural 

 

don't sell me reagan 

reagan

yeah I got that reagan shit

it's conomics

 

 Comicon sees me

Poor don't give a fuck

it's the god damn apocolypse 

never seen a war but I'm ready to die

I'm 23 and I don't know how to tell a lie

just throw hands then lay down to die

 

I'm real

supernatural

I'm real 

super unnatural 

 

So how do you identify 

I'm a fairy 

I'm a white woman 

I'm an elf

I'm good as fuck

I'm real

I'm a goblin

I'm a fat bastard

I'm queer

I'm real

 

How do you identify?

Tell me about it 

my sponsors gotta know

I'm real 

tell me about it my sponsors gotta know

shit god damnit 

I'ma fucking poodle 

fuck

I'm real

supernatural 

Im real 

super unnatural

a duet for cyborgs (lyrics)

 

Is it too much ask

Just need need a few days space

Is ti too much to ask

Ya don’t pay bills don’t ride on my fate

Is it too much to ask

Life is fleeting

Two steps ahead of my own mistakes

 

Yas bitch I need you right now

Don’t pick your phone

You’re a narcissist! Psychopath!

Narcisissist! Psychopath!

 

Is it too much to ask

To pick up your phone

Is it too much to ask

To be a lil more grown

Is it too much to ask …

Tell me to my face

When you leave me out in the cold and I deserve your space

You're a narcissist! Psychopath!

**** break down in cell phone remixes

Narcissist! Psychopath!

 

Is it too much to ask stop name calling me

Autisms your social under cover

you say ACAB but youre a social police man

we all want revolution so step off of me!

You’re a narcissist! Psychopath!

Narcissist psychopath!

 

Means you don’t love me

the way that I love you

 

That’s what they say these days

It’s my new name calling game

Get to use scientists to splain my life away

Fuck being real I can post all the blame

Call you all the dirty words

Call you centrist

Call you a dirty whore

insert all the foul names

Call you a

Narcissist! Psychopath!

But wait!

We’re all narcissists! Psychopaths!

What does that mean?

We’re all narcissists! Psychopaths!

Yeah yeah

Deleted statuses

 Yes. This is deleted. It's not written for someone waking up to the morning, or falling asleep at night. Its written for all the people who feel they have to express desperation to be noticed. I've been one of you, don't feel ashamed, invalidated, or coddled. Just know your pain is one more reason to make someone else's day as real and also as magical as possible, and you don't even have to pretend to be a wizard to do that. Below this post on a thread, I'ma post every single FB post I decided to later hide from the public for the sake of intentionality, inspite of the fact my expression is always sincere. 

Recognize above all... If you can continue to read. Whether it be academic, musical, poetic, dialectic, all of the above, words written for others ears and not to play and embed yourself and others with reality are inherently dissociated. Social media and messaging technology has created a force by which compulsive writers like myself feel that we are expressing ourselves when we're in fact facing a mental obstacle course that is presented as a platform we ought to be grateful for. 

Fuck that. 

And fuck this noise. 

Any ideas expressed below. I can do better. For you, for me, for everyone, our sincerity can not be in public trial, its an oxymoron...  Case in point 

Our words are meant to be from voices to ears and letters to minds, not advertised as slogans for potential interpretations, personalities and rates of success. Technology is the grand solution and demise of humanity, and social media is that line. Observe. This is all shit compared to what I'm capable of. 

"I'm still learning how to respect myself even when someone else doesn't (tell em to fuck off), how to show someone else respect even when I don't like them (tell em to fuck off), how to forgive myself when Im disrespectful (fuck off)

Its taken me 6 years to sober up since I first started trying. I haven't given up on myself, but I have totally developed enough untamed emotional distress to be something of a magnet for bullshit.  

No, I don't have a boyfriend, no that does not mean I'm available for lease and no, that's definitely not an invitation for people who are only attracted to me if they are certain I don't want it at all.

 I don't need anyone to remind me that rapey and romantic are synonyms in English.  Raping and pillaging, setting up shop without permission and doing it in the name of God is the root of the word American. Why is anyone surprised everyone's running around pulling out their hair about people being intrusive disrespectful assholes all day everyday right now!?

Everytime power is challenged we are forced as a society to reconcile that part of being a victim to society means being a victim to our own mind.  

It doesn't surprise me at all that everyone's torn up inside and desperately running around on tinder after whatever long term relationship was destroyed during covid, trying to wear each other's lives like skin walkers and call it love. 

The only thing that's swallowed up and pissed on me and all the amazing caring people in my life more than alcohol, is feeding into this national trap house mentality by giving into my desperate beliefs that someone else could ever offer me more than I can offer myself. I've always known better but it sucks me back in worse than any addiction ever has.  It has never been worth it to fall in that trap. Not once. My solar plexus has all but collapsed. The best thing about falling in love has been learning how to make sure it never happens again. 

I am so excited to spend the rest of my thirties single, sober, and sincerely fucking miserable. I can't wait. I love people, a lot, but I do not believe in falling in love with people. I fall in love with ideas I might as well act like it. 

Don't even try to change my mind and don't ask me to be the mythical skank you met on Mardi gras a decade ago.  I'm not going to try to cheer any of y'all sad assholes up anymore. You wanna be depressed? Be my guest, get yourself out of bed in the morning cause I won't be there.  I've got a thorn up my ass and I'm not afraid to use it, not even as a butt plug.". 

"I recently remembered something I'd figured out when I was younger, forgot and then had to relearn repeatedly. 

There are a lot different types of tears.

There's crying because there's so much grief in your system you need to physically let go. 

There's tears from having an epiphany, or seeing something so unexpected and warming your solar plexus starts dancing.

There's tears because something is genuinely sad and you feel it's terrible, it's crying from empathy. 

Then there is crying from anxiety, from stress, it's an autonomic reaction that we train ourselves to do subconsciously that everyone learns in different ways. Even though it feels involuntary in the moment we can train ourselves and untrain ourselves when we cry like this.

 We start learning when were babies and then we keep relearning. It's crying for attention, to seem weak as a self defense mechanism, a red herring to deflect blame, a way to show remorse. This crying is the least empathetic and generally the most manipulative. But most that manipulate anyone usually aren't masterminding any shit, quite the opposite, they've lost so much self reflection that most of their behaviors are sheer reactions. 

Then there's crying because you're hurt, you've been betrayed, it's the opposite of laughter, it's something unexpected... You didn't think it would be harmful but life tricked you. 

When people talk about wanting to be emotional, to express themselves, to take self care and hold space, it's really important to distinguish what emotions were feeling. Being extremely emotional is always something you want to feel, but just because you feel anything at all doesnt mean expressing yourself is gonna be something you or anyone else always deservedly should do. Sometimes expressing yourself is just a knee jerk reaction and it can be fucking violent. 

Lol just spreading holiday cheer! Dr. Dirty at yo service"

"Best things you can be: consistent, and be able to sleep with yourself at night. How to get there? 

Count your blessings, not everything that comes into your head needs to come out of your mouth, and .... Josh Boutte ... I forget the last one?"

Old News (lyrics)

 Old News
Doesn't Age like I do
Still hurts everytime
even worse then in my prime
I was so excited to learn
thought It'd heal all pain
knowing would get easier
no no no
I just got higher on this escalator
a skinny tight rope
an adrenaline rush
having balance only means I'm not falling off
fine lines between real and imaginary
old news doesn't age like I do
crows feet and palmistry
tracing dicohotomies
I tried to walk between
such a short time line
just a circus act I only can see in my dreams
old news doesn't age like I do
and all of my excitement
young wonder, anything's news
buried under feelings
I was so sure I'd outgrew
old news doesn't age like I do
like just another tuesday
I try to play away
but 4 time around I'm only feeling the pain
amplifyin year after year
as my voice grows quieter and scared
sometimes I wonder if I'm getting any younger
but I never unwind
no my imagination is declined at checkout
I demand solitude like an american spouse
what I know is harder to be
as much as any certainty
oh what's left of me
old news doesn't age like I do
I wish mysteries still motivated me
I know I'm out there somewhere
deep inside of you
buried beneath old news
just doesn't  seem to age like I do
lookin for reflectiona of me
to be a positive influence
some enthusiasm for what could be
I already lost all my baggage
don't know where it went
my past dissolved in hot water
this history is blind
doc I need some glasses that I can't lose
some focus that isn't just a metaphor or a tool
don't give me
old news
it doesn't age like I do
I just have weights in my insidesn
that somehow gotta defy renewed gravity
remember life before you left me
so I can use what I learn and start to age old news so I can stop getting old  
it's up to me
no deals with the devil
tightropes or timlines
I wanna reach the next level
oh olds news
better age like I do