Overkill

Having a difficult time taking Is and Yous and Mes out of my poetry.  I wish I had a different face, but apparently I am no longer allowed to hack away at it.  I want to get back to wonder.  I want to get back to visions of enormous dinosaurs, but the real world continues to push back and it's not fair and I can't figure out a way to circumvent the charges.

I will.  Stand up act 9 is coming.  Long dark tunnel.  I conquered my fear of absolute darkness a while back.  Doesn't mean that it's comfortable though.  I want to pick up house and walk away from it all in a bad way.  Maybe a good way.  Tough to think about.  Do you just throw your hard drives in a ruck sack?  I don't know!  I'm asking you!  Who helps you plan that sort of thing out?  I have no clue.

Do ya have to bring an umbrella or something or do you count on finding one along the route?  Could probably thieve one.  Do you really want to do that?  That's not who you are.  You can take whatever you really want, but don't.  Every single time you take you are taking something from someone else and that's no good.  Let someone hold your leash.  They're not holding you back.  They're just checking you.  You have to allow yourself to be checked at the hip.  Take it and bounce off or try to run them over, but whatever you do correct your path.  Not correct, but make adjustments because you have to and understand that it is alright to make adjustments.

Adjusting the dials is okay.  Not everyone likes to hear music at 11, hell you don't either.  Not everyone wants or needs a kiss or needs your face two inches from their own.  Not everyone can be famous and not everyone will remember events the same ways you do.  You're losing your memory and maybe that plays into part of why you are losing connection fidelity with your dream states.  Be okay with working on it.  There's no breaker  to fire off in between where you're going and where you can never go back to and that's perfectly fine.

Do you bring a knife or no?  Do you need to?  Would you need to?  I don't know!  You can take what you want, but you don't have to.  Are you expecting battle?  It's a funky kind of war we fight and I've been seeing some strange things I don't know how to handle off of the top of my head.  I need time.  No picking up sticks.  No running away.  No abuse.  Abuse is shorthand for sadists.  What's short hand for saints?  I want to plow into a wall and obliterate my body in a mist of red and bone.  I want humor.  Get the fuck away from me!  I swear to god I will taste your eye fluid before the night is out, you mother fucker piece of shit, do you not know there is no such thing as a fair fight?

Rules are in place to keep me out of you.  Period.  Maybe it's all a matter of timing?  That may be what I'm getting wrong.

Wanderlust eats away at me and I nibble back.  I almost lit a cat on fire again.  I'm doing good though.  Being on good behavior and going to work almost every time I am supposed to go.  I want to keep it up through the end of the year.  I am not expecting much from Santa.  I still ask him for a 1911 against my better judgement.  No resolutions forthcoming and none will be given.  I think I'll treat myself to a box of ammunition this year.  One step at a time.  Baby steps.  We'll travel, but I'm not pulling up sticks just yet.  I'm trying to monitor my speech.  I've been speaking much too fast and running words together and feeling like I need to apologize inside my head every time someone says "what did you say?"  I said exactly what the hell I said.  It's hyper frustrating.  It's like a stutter, but backwards and difficult to correct and heart stabbing when I notice it flowing out of my damned mouth.  Not fair!

Howling in my head wont stop.  I haven't snorted anything serious in a long time and my sinuses feel like they are about to shatter.  "...turning the music up so ya don't hear the engine falling apart..."  by hook or by crook we are going to fix this thing so it runs smooth.  Chatty Cathy.  Slow the fuck down and take a moment.  The world's not crazy.  It is just you.  Everything does not smell like burning metal.  It is just you.  Space invaders.




///Kelis - "I Don't Think So"     just dont think you're at my speed

Cheeseburger (and the origins)

The cheeseburger.  The curse of curses.  Cheeseburger!  Cheeseburger!  Cheeseburger!  To invoke the cheeseburger three times in a row is to call down all of the thunderbolts of heaven and bring ruin to your foe, and also to yourself, because the Cheeseburger fallout is too long lived and too deadly to dissipate with any amount of speed.  The Cheeseburger is not to be toyed with, not to be thought of, not to be spoken of, under any circumstances and is the last resort of the desparate, the dying, and the backstabber.

The cheeseburger, in and of itself, is a fairly innocent and delicious thing.  However, in it's delicious simplicity it also signifies missing the mark.  It is much easier to screw up what you're trying to achieve, or miss the mark, or any other failure.  It's easy to fail (most of the time).  And when you do you can relax, because you hung it up and won at failing, which has a much higher success rate than succeeding.  You stuffed your face with a Cheeseburger, and it was delicious.  More than that,

the guy in Popeye would always pay Tuesday for a hamburger today.  The term comes primarily from dart games.  When you miss one and then two and then know you're going to miss three and as you walk up to the board you pull the darts out and one thought dominates: I will gladly pay you Tuesday for a mark today.   Cheeseburger!  Cheeseburger!  And that's not all.  A person can Cheeseburger.  A person can also be Cheeseburgered.  Often times the Cheeseburger will be invoked by a sworn enemy or opponent as you are shooting.  At that moment you have been Cheeseburgered.  The Cheeseburger will take over your mind and destroy your shot at success.

Some do succeed, despite the Cheeseburger in the room.  Never for long.  Do not mess with the Cheeseburger.  It will end whatever it touches.