yeah.

sup bro?
hey man
you good?
man, i feel amazing
yeah, i can see that. you listening?
nope, and i never will
set an example. you do everyday what we're all trying to stop
so?
yeah. whatever

word safari

reach
around the hope of
facilitating a passion
fiction
next to syllabus
you do the things that need to be done
quick information
lasting change
upsets you
take a stand
caution
equal responsiblity
positive
furthering education
lights
envision the world
place ourselves
special thanks
bounce light
knowing who you are and what you can do
control of your destiny

10 narrative ideas

events from history:

vietnam war
hippy era
9/11
columbine/virginia tech shootings
the rise of punk rock in the 90's

personal events:
my horrible summer
discovering how to attain happiness
losing innocence
losing friends
knowing your real friends

untitled

my breath escapes in ragged bursts
the skin ripples and shines
and I; i battle steel
clink clink clink as i pump my burden up
and down
up and
down
i defeat it; i beat it down
it pleads for mercy; i show
no quarter
foreseeing its demise: devious lowblows attempted
devious lowblows parried, and i strike back; hard
a finishing blow
the end of a battle, but the signal of a war
i let the barbell fall to the rug,
remove my armor.
i stroll outside, letting a ciggarette calm me
my battle fervor ebbs
i grin

let's don our google goggles

google;

giving useless insight
otherwise uneeded
obliges us with knowledge and filth
grants the wisdom of pure numbers
lays bare the secrets of life
enable your cookies!

descent

falling;
ma's eyes balling;
rest.
a summer spent falling deeper and deeper
into blackness that would do nothing
but devour the lives of angels and men
as god watched helplessly and wept.
i stagger about the room,
flailing limbs searching for the loving reprieve
of the lamp switch, but the only thing to be seen
is the swaying red cherry of a cigarrette
i swing my arms crazily, my screams escalate,
fury awakens
i am a trapped rat, but my disease-ridden paw
lands itself on the doorknob, miraculously
the cigarrette falls to the floor

mantra

what makes me feel wierd about being wierd? nothing. i am my own odd, abnormal 17-year old teenage boy. everything i do is performed with unwavering purpose and a deep, deep love for humor and making others uncomfortable. long live wierdness.