I’ve been away a while, but don’t worry (as if), I’ve been working on my beard. Oh, & my bachelor’s
Peter Griffin: “Oh no, Lois, it’s time I join the ranks of great men with beards. Why do you think Jesus Christ was so popular, …”
lead memories soaked in mood
hijack my soul
fall, my sullen lure
nails a note to my skull
‘everything I ever did wrong’
floating body parts on a lake
soon to be frozen poses
stiff winter reminders
until spring thaw
The tiny shadows of a flock of southbound birds strafe across my body and riddle the sidewalk like bullet holes.
Terrifying clouds on one side of the freeway, a half-baked moon on the other.
It’s all very ominous and I’m stuck in the middle again.
Fall leans in on northern Minnesota and the south sucks up all the heat.
Another blood red mood last night.
Another sunny day of blistering depression
looking at the world through cunt colored glasses wondering when the fuck it’s going to be my turn
I lost my rose-colored glasses
I fail to see the bright side of anything
-his meds must not be working-
thoughts spring up in the wrong side of town
haunted mansions litter the Darkside of the moon
looming factories pump the shit we breathe deep into the atmosphere polluting the very light of our soul
straitjacket martyrs and credit card slaves
media whores and inbred sex fiends
convoluted shit for brains politicians feed the malnourished masses
emaciated zombies with their hands out
none of this makes any fucking sense
there is no innocence left on this earth unless you crave Third World accommodations
the undead mock the living
sending birthday cards that say ‘why bother?’
I don’t know anymore
my atrophied body dilapidated soul and starving spirit hang stiff like dead men yet shiver in the breeze
an accused treacherous trio
born with a noose around their necks
there’s a dull ache in my bones
that never goes away
my vision is constantly blurred
I see the vain struggle of humanity, my therapist sees depression
but I found a gray area to both fact and truth and I named it apathy
so don’t strain struggle or strive too hard
because if you look at it from above,
you’ll see that none of us really had a chance
Oh, I almost forgot…Kilo Kai.
Bearding out. What if I said I was sitting around eating cheese w a knife twisting my mustache? Would you still love me?