25 May 2009


Right. Some things have worth. Some things are worth more than other things. Some things have no worth. Some things are free.
This isn’t new shit I am learning.
Some things are free. So you don’t really want them. Or you are stoked to find that you now have more junk. Some folks like junk. Some people collect it. Some people spend every waking second scheming new inventive ways to collect more free shit. I never figured that game out.
Take it and discard it. Bums need shit too.
Some things have no worth. Zero. Some things are just worthless. Most things have no worth. But in a bind, when anything is needed, something worthless is at least a thing. Again, these are at least something and needed, like cough drops, when needed. In fact, something worthless can be very useful and have a semi-permanent station in life. Sometimes it can even be permanent.
Get all you can out of it, because it’s free.
Some things are worth more than other things. Who knows why? I sure don’t. Gold isn’t rare, I mean we still dig that shit up, but it seems to be worth more than topaz and I think I remember someone telling me we have about found all the topaz in the world. So someone puts a nice arbitrary value on things and now everyone must live with those costs. Some people believe in this shit and work hard or lie and cheat and steal their way to attaining the higher valued shit.
Get yours. No one is stopping you.
Some things have worth. Some things are just worth more. Some things fit in a hole in your soul. Some things understand the amebic boundaries that we are and change with us. Some things are eternal in, the very least, our own eyes.
I meant every word I said to her. I meant every word I wrote about her. I meant the promise I gave only to myself about her.


18 May 2009

7 Rules Revisited

Right. I have never trusted a cop in a raincoat. That said, I am not so sure raincoats are even fashionable to people in my generation.
I have never trusted enthusiasm or love, because each is temporary and quick to sway. That said, it seems my generation cannot discern between the two.
I was once asked if I cared about the world’s problems, I looked deeply into the questioner’s eyes – he never asked me again. That said, my generation cares more about identifying problems to make a joke of them rather than a solution.
I never give my real name, and when told to look at myself – I refuse. That said, my generation only asks for numbers and email addresses, and if I did look at myself, I wouldn’t be seeing the same man.
I have never done or said anything the person standing in front of me could not understand. That said, my generation hasn’t the attention span to watch or listen to me long enough to get it.
I have never created anything, for it will be misinterpreted. It will chain me and follow me for the rest of my life. And it will never change. That said, my generation hasn’t created anything. We remake things. And I am just as big a phony as the rest.
I am sorry Bob Dylan, Joe Strummer, Bob Marley, J.D. Salinger and Nikola Tesla. We have failed you all. We have listed without hearing. We have preached evolution and invented the copy machine. We have made you rich and bankrupted your ideas. Please, allow me to issue a formal apology on behalf of everyone born after 1975, we were simply trying to have something new.
This person, who is a fixture in my life through no desire on my part, believes me to be a murderer. She has said it. She believes it. And when I see her, it is as clear in her eyes as her cocaine pupils. Because of this, I sleep in the street a lot. I find it amusing people think the war fucked me up. I am just trying to be Barry White.
I hope I am close to finding a job. Life is better when there is something to do.
I really like whiskey.
I don’t believe in second hand smoke, gravity or evolution. I don’t have to. I don’t tell you what to believe. Leave me alone.
I have a dream of the future. It is a humble dream. It is mine, and it is safeguarded behind muscle, rib and blood. I don’t need much for this dream to come true. Some dreams come true. Maybe this one will. Maybe it won’t. I could really care less to be truthful.