Ducking

i've been listening to lots of honest music this morning. brit beat boy spilling his heart about dying dads, lost loves, and drug trips gone bad, lonely americans afraid they aren't losing touch but that they have lost it already, their frostbitten fingers only a symptom of a much colder heart - that sort of stuff. i think the music is getting the better of me too. it makes me, woos me with this false sense of salvation that only if i get it out on paper i will make it into glory. my head tells me no, no, no but my heart says you must. like virgins making much of time, i have heard candy is dandy but liquor is quicker and the quick road to feeling more like myself today is a relatively light confession and an appointment in four and a half hours to get my face pumped full of pain killers.

i am a problem gambler. my friend G and i have discussed many times, that this and even just my particular attitude, will lead me to either the top of ceaser's or bleeding in the alley behind it. i am trying to learn how to harness that sort of particular power but like other forces of nature it hunkers down and only becomes more fierce when handcuffed. i don't believe i need to be ordered about, i need to be unleashed. i think i will make it to the top, it is imparative i believe this, without this well conditioned hubris i fade into medicority. i believe hope is the evidence of things unseen, my hope links me to the unsearchable depths of the One and it is there, it is that deep dark well, where i gather myself and my power.

i dodge bill collectors. i am fast, i am vicious and i am hard to track - maybe harder to handle when found. the story goes that when i got to the age the lending instituions deemed appropriate i signed up for credit. like almost all other traps set by those who wish us ill, and if not ill at least the chance to empty our pockets for years to come, credit didn't kill me quickly. i did allright for a little while. eventually though i succombed to the plan of those snke conspirators the banks. you see that's what they do; they give you a little hoping to trick you into being good little angels, paying everything on time that way in a few years the bank can give you money for a house and then collect interest from you for the next 25 years. it is all a scheme, all their kindness is a trap to lure you into a lifetime of debt. well once i realized i was trapped by their little plastic demons i knew for sure i would never be owned by them again. furthermore, i resolved to make my attackers regret ever trying to subdue me. in just a little bit of time i think my debt will become, once and for all, uncollectable. me 1 - the banks 1, can't wait until the tiebreaker.

i am a little loose in the screws. i have visions, like waking dreams where bad things happen to good people; bad things at my hands, crazy things. then there is the real where i don't do these things - at least not now. i tell them i don't want them but they scoff at me. right now there seems to be a strange coexistance, being they are comfortable to just be visions. i will start the worrying if i meet a new friend that works as a projectionist or a catering waiter. maybe i should start worrying earlier, do i own any ikea?

so that's the quick of it, i mean i could tell you i am lustful, and judgemental, and seem to deal constantly with religious thoughts, but those things aren't that interesting this morning. today it is about me being an unrelenting do or die, bill skating, nut case who is one of the people who should probably own many more weapons and arms but will get it done with out them. fires in the desert and fast driving.