confused n shit…and mah valley day was as cool as a truck full of eager beaver cheerleaders…the man threw his grandma off the balcony…21st floor fall..

sometimes we wonder what the point is..stress equals the motive to throw your own grandma off the balcony..

i am lost in my own personal abysmal hell where all the colors and mashed together like a dirty cesspool and no love will find me without lots of sacrifice…love love love…why does it always cost more than what I have in my pocket?…
crimes committed are the same ones i have committed..now taking on an entirely new meaning with a lost and abject sensibility throwing my own stability into turmoil…maybe it should be another lying on the steps of the foreboden apartment building..maybe all this stress will die and shrivel up and end up as a pretty petaled crunchy flower, transient in my flower box where all the bobos eventually take a rest…the air smells of burnt hair from hairdrying gone nuts, and my mind starts to burn and sizzle at the root, dangling on an edge with the split shaft of the hair splitting into two…the sure and the lost…which one am i, and which one will you choose to be?


lie lie lie
bitter crying in deaf and dead ears
he cannot know the I
as i cannot know the he
with all these blockades constructed and
faces and expressions shoved down my throat
like an emotion of reverse peristalsis
in this upchuck
i don wanna give a fuck

rockin it in the nyc..home again
i was in masshell
my dad is doing well…home in fact, where all daddy’s be.