Let me being this with a somber note. There a little premature baby somewhere fighting for its life. We can do plenty to save it, by licking 'like' on Facebook. The more likes we click, the more chance this baby has of surviving. Lets show our love. Lets show we care. Lets save little baby Joe or Jane.
Are you fucking kidding me?
Well folks it's Friday. Another day of people sharing bullshit on Facebook, people being too happy and cheerful at -8am on Twitter (yes that is a negative sign you see there to indicate exactly how ungodly an hour it was), and people getting ready to toss off the shackles of being drones and drinking enough honey for themselves to flatter their egos as queens.
The flu is kicked...gone to wherever flus go when the die, and I am looking forward to a nice weekend, heading out to San Pedro to see my musketeers. And as I pondered that happy note, my day was ruined by National Cleavage Day...not that I don't like cleavage, but some heathen just posted Kim Kardashian's cleavage, as if we don't see enough of her, and were trying to sweep her back under the rock that she hatched under. Well, such is the world it seems, so maybe it's best to allow it to suffer and burn for idolizing such empty headed ninnies.
With that in mind, I will go throw up now....just as I thought there was hope for civilization.....
Friday, March 30, 2012
Thursday, March 29, 2012
The few things
Sometimes its all one can do to wake up in the morning. The day looms ahead with promise of the same dreary vision, just linger long enough to get through the day, get home, and back to bed. Some days are just uninspiring. So why even bother getting up? The coffee does not do it anymore, the reruns are the same even if I wish for different endings, the cats and birds make the same noises, the bus to work is the same. Then the miseries of the day before that have not fully healed come back to haunt a head already full of local demons. Is it any wonder I have not shot myself yet?
Oh yeah....I don't have a gun....
So how does one move on then? There are somethings that do help to make the day worth it, to push on and fight for life and light even when the day seems evil (I like evil, but not when it happens to me). It starts for me on the bus ride to work. Now if you saw me on the bus, ever, you would call me cold, asshole, all manner of rude things. Even if I know you, even if we are best friends or lovers, I will not acknowledge you on the bus. Its not your fault, or mine. By the time I get on the bus I have headphones stuck in my ears with the day's musical selection, and my brain is far from Belize and lost in the beat and lyrics. Music....is my Jesus.
Then there are the people who make that day worth it. My mother is the first....making my lunch (making the whole house smell of bacon by the way) and feeding the cats and cursing at them, and bringing my coffee though I grumble like a hungry ogre...you think Shrek is bad? Then the folks at work, that enjoy my music, put up with my ranting and sarcasm, and the ones I text and chat to, all the down off the coast of Placencia, to the beaches of San Pedro, to the hustle and bustle of San Ignacio. They get me, like my musings, and appreciate my uniqueness.
And by uniqueness I don't mean a horn growing from my head (but how bloody awesome would that be). I am blunt, and sarcastic, and rude, and it takes a damn special kind of person to put up with that and to see beyond it all, I am really nice (groan) and sweet (double groan) and that the sarcasm is just to make people laugh, put them at ease, make their loads lighter. I am the burdern carrier, and will carry it for everyone if I could. And for those who wanna judge me as some real abrasive asshole and write me off as a jerk, as the Queen of Pop says in one of her new songs....I don't give a.....
You fill in the line.
Oh yeah....I don't have a gun....
So how does one move on then? There are somethings that do help to make the day worth it, to push on and fight for life and light even when the day seems evil (I like evil, but not when it happens to me). It starts for me on the bus ride to work. Now if you saw me on the bus, ever, you would call me cold, asshole, all manner of rude things. Even if I know you, even if we are best friends or lovers, I will not acknowledge you on the bus. Its not your fault, or mine. By the time I get on the bus I have headphones stuck in my ears with the day's musical selection, and my brain is far from Belize and lost in the beat and lyrics. Music....is my Jesus.
Then there are the people who make that day worth it. My mother is the first....making my lunch (making the whole house smell of bacon by the way) and feeding the cats and cursing at them, and bringing my coffee though I grumble like a hungry ogre...you think Shrek is bad? Then the folks at work, that enjoy my music, put up with my ranting and sarcasm, and the ones I text and chat to, all the down off the coast of Placencia, to the beaches of San Pedro, to the hustle and bustle of San Ignacio. They get me, like my musings, and appreciate my uniqueness.
And by uniqueness I don't mean a horn growing from my head (but how bloody awesome would that be). I am blunt, and sarcastic, and rude, and it takes a damn special kind of person to put up with that and to see beyond it all, I am really nice (groan) and sweet (double groan) and that the sarcasm is just to make people laugh, put them at ease, make their loads lighter. I am the burdern carrier, and will carry it for everyone if I could. And for those who wanna judge me as some real abrasive asshole and write me off as a jerk, as the Queen of Pop says in one of her new songs....I don't give a.....
You fill in the line.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Get ready to hate
The power of the people, to do what is right.....to protest and march and bitch and moan....all for a social conscience. My take on it? Save the conscience for yourself. Yes peoples, I am going to go on a very politically incorrect rant here. You want the truth? All of your marching and wearing ribbons, does jack shit. Its nice to wear awareness by wearing a green shirt for earth day while not doing anything about it. I am sure the earth will thank you when all those ribbons get tossed out into the trash.
A friend of mine, not naming who.....wants to walk for cancer or something, to make people aware. I think people are pretty fucking aware of the nuisance that cancer can be. Shaving your head for solidarity, I mean its all well and cute, but no it does not cure cancer and does not make you a hero. Told you I would be incorrect, and cynical. But those who know me would not expect any less.
People always need a cause. People spread causes on Facebook like the mosquito spreads malaria. Click 1000 times for little Timmy to get an operation, or save this cow from the butcher. Nice try. Sad thing is, lots of mooks actually fall for it and share it, but it does help to give and indication as to those with low double digit IQ's, no offense to any of you who qualify.
So don't come to me and expect me to wear white in protest of some little girl who got raped, or to wear black to protest offshore drilling. Lets get the rapist and make those white shirts red by beating his ass up in public. Less words and gestures, and more damn action. Less whining people. Protesting is not gonna stop murder, and forget raising awareness. We already know. Did you not think that perhaps we don't wanna be reminded that we live in a shitty world?
A friend of mine, not naming who.....wants to walk for cancer or something, to make people aware. I think people are pretty fucking aware of the nuisance that cancer can be. Shaving your head for solidarity, I mean its all well and cute, but no it does not cure cancer and does not make you a hero. Told you I would be incorrect, and cynical. But those who know me would not expect any less.
People always need a cause. People spread causes on Facebook like the mosquito spreads malaria. Click 1000 times for little Timmy to get an operation, or save this cow from the butcher. Nice try. Sad thing is, lots of mooks actually fall for it and share it, but it does help to give and indication as to those with low double digit IQ's, no offense to any of you who qualify.
So don't come to me and expect me to wear white in protest of some little girl who got raped, or to wear black to protest offshore drilling. Lets get the rapist and make those white shirts red by beating his ass up in public. Less words and gestures, and more damn action. Less whining people. Protesting is not gonna stop murder, and forget raising awareness. We already know. Did you not think that perhaps we don't wanna be reminded that we live in a shitty world?
Hurray for Tuesday?
I eventually had to drag myself out of bed today, as I do every day. After getting little sleep the night before, which is usual for me, I had to get up and grumble, especially since its a Tuesday. You know how some people get up and smell the roses? I get up and wanna strangle my cat for meowing too damn loud and drown the parrot for singing. Guess you know by now I am not a morning person, and the next person who says Good Morning Sunshine gets it....and will never see the sunshine again.
But thank god for the bus ride to work, one hour of just me and my music. There are people on the bus, but I acknowledge no one. I am not a social creature on the bus and can hardly be interested in anyone or their lives at that time of the day. Yes, I am a miserable fuck on the bus that early in the morning. I hate everything, all noises, and smells, and images...which is usual for me....
Now those of you cheerful Rose Nylunds out there, who wake up with a smile and singing like Snow White, I applaud you...but keep your damn cheer to yourself, nobody wants to know its a beautiful day, you don't have to go to pieces over the sun shining again, it does every damn day. If you wanna say your prayers and kiss a flower, its all well and good but don't rub such an unnatural lifestyle in my face...no one needs to know that you do that just plain weird.
But thank god for the bus ride to work, one hour of just me and my music. There are people on the bus, but I acknowledge no one. I am not a social creature on the bus and can hardly be interested in anyone or their lives at that time of the day. Yes, I am a miserable fuck on the bus that early in the morning. I hate everything, all noises, and smells, and images...which is usual for me....
Now those of you cheerful Rose Nylunds out there, who wake up with a smile and singing like Snow White, I applaud you...but keep your damn cheer to yourself, nobody wants to know its a beautiful day, you don't have to go to pieces over the sun shining again, it does every damn day. If you wanna say your prayers and kiss a flower, its all well and good but don't rub such an unnatural lifestyle in my face...no one needs to know that you do that just plain weird.
Monday, March 26, 2012
So its come to this
Ok, so a friend of mine is watching Tosh.0, and I am at work. Another good buddy of mine, a hot red head, and if you know my friends, there is only one ginger in there so its easy to figure out who that is, well this buddy began writing a blog. Its cute and so like him. He had asked me if I write, and I recalled, I have like 5 or 6 blog sites I never write to, and I only post my poetry on forums.
So maybe I should write daily or something, even though the thought of what may come out in black or white scares me, for my daily thoughts may range from MDNA to MDMA to my bitch slapping one Snow White, and whether Snow White should be resurrected or not, to the untimely departure of a musketeer.
Then moments and thoughts come, I just sit wondering if I am happy here or not, in this life, in this job, all of it. So yes I got another failed relationship, and the chance at a new one faded like cheap perfume even before the first date. And maybe I am a schizo, I am insane, I am blunt and rude and crude and a damn Brit, and for those who don't like it, leave me in the dark side...no one asked you to stay, fucknut.
Sometimes just to save the while
I force myself to try and smile
A fracture in my stable head
So people will not think me dead
They can see I am the same
The same blood in that same vein
But it flows from a bitter start
Such that comes from a busted heart
They choose what they want to see
Brighter color from darker me
I slip away...
They choose what they want to see
Brighter color from darker me
So not to mar the perfect scene
With face unkempt and thoughts unclean
So I walk and keep in time
To fall in rhythm and perfect rhyme
To see my shadow beside theirs
With pleasant dreams and absent fears
Differences are what must hide
The moral laws I must abide
I slip away...
So maybe I should write daily or something, even though the thought of what may come out in black or white scares me, for my daily thoughts may range from MDNA to MDMA to my bitch slapping one Snow White, and whether Snow White should be resurrected or not, to the untimely departure of a musketeer.
Then moments and thoughts come, I just sit wondering if I am happy here or not, in this life, in this job, all of it. So yes I got another failed relationship, and the chance at a new one faded like cheap perfume even before the first date. And maybe I am a schizo, I am insane, I am blunt and rude and crude and a damn Brit, and for those who don't like it, leave me in the dark side...no one asked you to stay, fucknut.
Sometimes just to save the while
I force myself to try and smile
A fracture in my stable head
So people will not think me dead
They can see I am the same
The same blood in that same vein
But it flows from a bitter start
Such that comes from a busted heart
They choose what they want to see
Brighter color from darker me
I slip away...
They choose what they want to see
Brighter color from darker me
So not to mar the perfect scene
With face unkempt and thoughts unclean
So I walk and keep in time
To fall in rhythm and perfect rhyme
To see my shadow beside theirs
With pleasant dreams and absent fears
Differences are what must hide
The moral laws I must abide
I slip away...
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