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Thursday, November 14, 2013

Bring me my shotgun.

It bothers me when people liken bluesmen to a bunch of emo crybabies. These people have no idea what the blues are. It's not a bunch of guys whining about how sad life is. It's about seeing the world for what it is, a shitty, dark, evil, cruel fucking place inhabited by soulless, two-timing, no good, lying scum. Not only seeing it, but actually deriving a sort of pleasure from it. A bluesman is a sick son of a bitch. He can not only take the fucked up realities of life, but laugh about them. The difference between a bluesman and a little emo bitch is that if you call a little emo bitch a pussy, he might whine at you. You call a bluesman a pussy, and he'll fucking stab you. These motherfuckers are made of cold, dead steel battered and shaped by a life of shit into fire-breathing ruthless monsters. Now, a bluesman isn't necessarily a bad man. He doesn't go round intending to cause trouble. Trouble just seems to follow him. Bad luck and misery are his closest friends. And when you live a life so full of misfortune, you tend to develop a growing desire to see the ruin of others. You get so down sometimes, you just want to go grab your shotgun and start shooting. Doesn't matter who. No need to worry though, a bluesman wouldn't hurt a fly, not unless that fly comes up and bites him. Then it's dead before it knows what hit him.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KCqEOboRctY

Tuesday, November 5, 2013

How Do You Define Yourself?

Now this is an interactive one. Take your time and be sure to follow my instructions as you read them. If you read ahead without doing so, you'll ruin all the fun, and you'll regret it. Don't worry, it's quick and easy. It won't take any time at all.

First, I want you to grab a pen and paper.
It doesn't actually have to be a pen and paper. Open a new document in your notebook program, whip out your shitty phone with the cracked screen, use poop and the wall behind you, I don't care.

I want you to write down at least 10 words that you would use to describe yourself.
Pick as many as you want. The more, the better. Shouldn't be too hard: kind, funny, tall, whatever. Hell, they don't even have to be just one word. "gets along well with others" works fine too.I guess I should have said "character traits" or something instead of just "words" but fuck it, you get the idea.

Take your time. Don't rush. These words aren't going anywhere/ They will be right where you/I left them.

Just things you would describe yourself as. Easy peasy.

Who are you according to you?

Pretty sweet list ya got there. Lots of positive things! Maybe too many positive things. Add some faults to that list. We all have them. "Terrible at following instructions" That might be a good one for those of you who haven't even started your list yet despite all of the warnings that you'll ruin the experience.

Okay! There we go! I'm proud of you! Good job!

Step 2 of this 2 step activity is also very simple. Last chance to make that list...

I want you to imagine that no one exists but you. Not one single person in the entire universe. Just you, and nothingness. You know what? Take away the universe, too. Nothing exists beyond yourself. There are no people, no plants, no animals, no Earth, no nothing. Only you.

Go through your list. Start removing things that have to do with other people and objects. Remember: nothing exists beyond yourself.

Kindness? GONE. How can you be kind to nothing? There's nothing to be kind to.
Good listener? GONE. Tall? In relation to what? GONE. Sweet? GONE. Attractive? GONE. Fat? GONE. Smart? GONE. Terrible at following instructions? GONE. Observant? GONE. Unique fashion sense? GONE.

I want you to go through this list removing everything that you use others to define you as. Everything that could end in an "er" and just throw that shit out. You can't be smarter than yourself, hotter than yourself, or kinkier than yourself.

When you have finished, look back at your list.

Who are you?

Monday, November 4, 2013

Apathetic

A pathetic. Ape athetic. Copacetic. Coat pacific. Goat specific. Most terrific. Motorific. Boater-fitted. In it to win it. Interperific.   Interlogistic. Intergalactic. Planetary.

Hmmm... not quite.

It's like... falling in love in a cemetery.
Or hot sex in the back of a hearse...
Like... that growing empty feeling in the pit of your soul that accompanies each achievement, or passing year.
Something like crying at the sight of a baby, or laughing at a man on death row.
It's like... talking of forever... knowing you'll get old... waiting for sunrise.

Almost. I still feel as if something is missing.

Something like white dust gathered at the bottom of a chalkboard.
The smell of wet cardboard.\
A high fly ball on a summer day.
Like the whispering of flowers.
A secret buried in the moon.
Snow shoes.
or stale bread.
It's a lot like that I guess...

Here, maybe this will help:

We can not choose who we love,
but we can choose to deny that love,
bury it deep down,
and let it fester into a black,
malignant cancer that robs us
of all kind feelings and leaves us
in a state of misanthropic apathy.

or

Sometimes, when I'm
Under the influence I
Can't help but say
Kind words, but

Inside those words,
There lies a hidden message.



The links are good. I would not worry of that. They work just fine. The input is correct. Try tuning the receiver. That could be the problem. Is that better? Have you fixed the issue? It could be.

I wrote a little song last night. I sung it as a lullaby to help me fall to sleep. Here it is:

Put a bullet in my head
All I want is to be dead
Life's a dream I want to end
Say goodbye to all my friends

And if you should ask me why
All I want is just to die
Take a look, there's nothing real
And there's nothing left to feel

Once upon a time I felt I lived
Thought I had so much to give
But I lost what I had sought
All my efforts were for naught

So put a bullet in my head
All I want is to be dead
Life's a dream I want to end
I'm too tired to pretend.