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