Past said, Now said

Is it a privilege to know someone so deeply? That isn’t antithetical to my my peaceful, warming, envelop us philosophy? Not quite love but the road of understanding rinding rolling twisting rounds through, from, between us. Minds reads hearts and whistle wallows that say a something. Your something. World mumblings. Listen lots, talk some.

Seperate selves turmoiled in business jags edged against pressure heads. Hard knocked skulls keeping straight eyes and downed heads. Cultivate profit, make money money mine mine mine. Ears plugged, brands up, heads see water rise then take gulping breaths. Breathe. Now now quickly, no time for rest just push pull society lacking words for community. 

Shriveled tenders limp and making pretend prostrate. Bowing outer screamers inside, douse with drugs and middle wine. Turn shoulders away and eye the goal posts.

Then you can go on with deception and confusion and the constant lukewarm war. Friends like peers and acquaintance with business cards and links to follow. I forget a face and we all become shapes and figures with sculpture makeup. Eyes glued elsewhere while ears plugged and flighty, music refreshes but voices tinny around, value drop like copper tops. Bitcoin slops. Maybe tomorrow sunny.


You know what after today’s rigmarole I need a fresh place to cater to us weirdo, noncommital types. Can’t be sure of good lesbian bar, for lack of aggro, testosterone males, didn’t look for geeko lounge in recent years.  I want a damn free zone! Place for me to rest my jerky head. No more regs asking questions I’m too fed up with to answer,  no looks of confusing emotional resonance.  I want some Tourette’s bar. I saw s vid of aussie youngens getting together and loving the commune tics, and I want it. Anger is hard to stop.  Tried for so many years but hardness. Hard teeth biting back with malice. Stop feeling bad bout what u born with i say to me. Stop but never do eh? Built in devil pitchfork my ass hot fiah. Love thyself like godly task. 

What’s it like

What’s it like when you’re head’s not full of words

What’s it like after body shots that drain emotional spots spin their wheels 

What you say during growing when the monster inner growls its yearning 

Desire taketh over and pissed off vibes runneth closer 

Tell me what to think, what to say

Aren’t you tired of independence yet

Aren’t you sick of differential split 

Like a math formula they all got bored of

Where is the friends that rise up the horrid

Sinking loose lips trying to kiss but getting frogs

When do I, we, get some cover 

Manholes, sinkholes, open opening

Think enough

Think too much

What is life without a thought 

What do I go on for but to entertain myself 

Nuts to the wall but friends can’t always humor 

I alone make better merriment 

Those lovely friends just apparitions 

Hear others say such love such life

Where to find these spirits nigh

Where to let loose mindly clutter

What’s it like when silence is

Sorry for the hate

Okay pretty white girl?
Compared to me how many times have you been called a faggot or homo?
Since you’re correcting me on PC terminology tell me your strife and struggles
Tell me the life you lived as an oddity, a freak/geek/nerd weirdo
The years of pushing through fight fight right to exist plight
Beats and dog piles on the outsider weird guy
Fighting for your pride or maybe life against jocks and thugs and small minds
Boys dumb and fucked, grabbing your man boobs and twisting and laughing suckers up
Calling you gaylord while rubbing your breasts
Hating yourself for fat massed up there
Chestal area no flats there
Fuck you pretty white girl!
For scolding me, trying to educate me, trying to encapsulate my experiences and life with your borrowed online awareness posts
you spoken “woke” and praising self
you huffed and puffed cause you on the right side of history eh?
Troopers and truthsayers all of us renegades
Every new one
Every gen y and millennial a soldier for the reprieve
Of good ones and Reason
Of common sense withdrawn from Our expression

Tell us please
Tell us massa
You so educated
Youse the media plasters
Darlings and camera whores
When you see a brown man talking bout bisexuality or gender politics
Tell me please in comments after this
Me need to learn so I don’t be patronizing accomplice

ADHD Adieu

I feel like I want the drugs, the extra pre scripts that dull and conjecture me, juxtapose my posie me with poised poses that work on the city. Big cities, we all freaky people-span of attention quizzical and busy. Don’t want to be like those Ridilin kids, that predays when chest felt empty, hollow feels and dull mouth mumbling stubbles. Want the focus though. Craving it, insane with the turbulence of concentration flummox just hazy day/night pulling eyes towards bookies and epubs; texts perused aloof for half minutes then abandoned for miles as I run lapse to other projects. Poor bookies, old and new and digital too, looking for touch with silent folds and bookmarks saving forgotten trysts. 

Want focus but it must be earned by me. Natural work my butt off training without the montages.  Spend some hours for several pages or sparse ink lines.

Bar passage 02.21.17

If I was to be honest with myself, with her, with whomever I latch my emotional wagon to, I would be brave enough to face those hurt faces; the sad, slanted lip, tiny open mouthed pains written on pretty visages. I hat them so much, I recall them daily as I am want to cudgel and flail myself metaphorically; the whole Catholic upbringing shit. Damn you judgy white hats, with your fake laurels and holier-than-thou overly curious digits.

I feel in me to tell, not to tell, am I saving myself or her. The ever-present her that always seems to come every.. year, biannual, lonely half-desperate existential period? Think I care enough about Her? No, unfortunately it is always about me. The favourite, the loved peer, the exalted inner Danny awaiting his forever Shine. So many bads and embarrassments melded into they all love me, cuddle me verbally, eyes so cordial and kindly. Sick of my openness and comfort effortlessly. Everyone says so approachable yet I should be lovingly. Ready.

So closed I get lost in the metal gears that shunt and stern the heartsing. Shards speak words that we afraid to speak, leak, spill onto digital paper sheets. Only brave when it comes to blogging. So utterly morose at the thought of femme loss, hurt faces.

Hurt faces speak volumes upon my deafened ears after years of selfish shit. Want to open but aware of the empty organs pumping materially.


Take the solace in solemn silent promises to twitchy McGee walls up

I could sit at the table with the pad so empty

So much white space it thrilled me then fearfully

Set up this desk for inkling inking

Architectural digesting passes through

Sketches and illustrates take a tick off my subpar

No one can see me tic running tick tock forever waiting for perfection

Perfectionist obsessive kid

Basement/office dwelling third place reversing

Adversity trumpeted

Bulked up to level this

Eyes on surpass but lacking push button confidence

Stuck to me, you, Irene too

Head jerking venting to release that dark stain joo joo

Screw the straightheads staring stone-faced

reject redirect Rob rejects

Upset relax meditate relapse

Pressure foments as my fingers bent

Curse the digits and hands clawing

Feel arthritic and Parkinson’s sick

High on the worry and losing the dismissive

Give in to obese obsess suppress subset stress

Feelin’ fine