Sunday, July 31, 2011

Any direction

I love you more each day
Your hugs keep me high
Your thoughts keep me connected with smiles
You seek and I watch with wonder
Your pain makes me cry
I want nothing but coolness for you
I want you to fly
I want you to became the greatness that I see within you
Let's ride
Let's fall into the blue
Seek within and become what you see
Follow this and I shall hold you
I will hold you in any direction

Saturday, July 30, 2011

Old music lives quiet

The fire is not hot enough for blood
I'm not cutting wrists
I'm not calling the black and whites
I'm not even depressed
should I be scared?
The music is dying
It doesn't do anything for me
You're not supposed to trust anyone who doesn't love music
I guess I shouldn't be trusted
that's a lie
music lives inside me
I make it my life
then I hate my life
then I hate music
but it always comes back
dance
I don't think so
listen
this sounds attainable

Friday, July 29, 2011

Awake is the pull

There's something pulling me
It's not a decision but I think I can stop it
I don't
I'm pulled in the direction of blurred hazes
Scenes that come in and out of focus in random sequences
It feels good but I don't remember
The initial feeling fades into the hours of haziness
Why is the pull so strong here and not there?
There's no time for why
Why ruins the fun
It makes me stop and stand in motionless mind numbing misery
But the chase is the best
I think I might die
The situation is strong and the world says no
Different signs feed into my vision
I've seen the signs come at me like this before
Almost as if I'm awake
This is why I like the pull
I'm awake for a second
My senses are sharpened
My mind is quick
My connection is obvious
The searching and emptiness are forgotten


sleep blogging

I'm sleep blogging the shit out of this blog right now.  Don't fuck with me in my sleep, especially if I'm blogging.

Let's take the warmth of touch and the human feel of song.  The unreal testing that's set up fake and indeed it goes up the hills.

Walking up hills is also the best part.  It's not all about the carving and 25th st run.  It's about the art and the style.  The lifestyle.

Messages home are strong but leave us wanting.  Hold other powers closer.  Hold the cage.  The warmth of fucked up beauty hits the street harder with the up town quarter loves/  The pennies were stronger than up hill.

Nothing makes sense when you sleep blog.

Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Scooters are lame

Once upon a time there was a boy named Shawnky. He wanted to ride his scooter but his Dad said,"No way Jose, scooter's are lame. You have to ride your skateboard!"

Shawnky started to cry.

His Dad said,"If you want to cry then you can just go to bed! Would you like to go to bed early? Or would you like to ride your skateboard?"

Shawnky said,"Alright, I guess I'll ride my skate board."

Shawnky practiced skateboarding down the hill standing up. At first he would get scared when the board went too fast and he would jump off. But after some practice he could stand up the whole way down the hill and turn at the bottom. Eventually Shawnky could go as fast as the board would take him and he said,"This skateboard doesn't go fast enough!"

Shawnky's Dad said,"If you want I can attach a rocket to the skateboard?"

And Shawnky said,"Yes! Please put a rocket on my skateboard!"

Shawnky's Dad put a high powered rock on the board so now it was a rocketboard. "I hope this board is fast enough for you Shawnky," said his Dad.

Shawnky took the board and said,"I guess I'll give it a try," and he turned the rocket on and began to roll. "So long sucker!" Shawnky exclaimed as he raced past his Dad.

"Watch out for the end of the street!" his Dad yelled.

Shawnky just went faster and faster and faster until the board began to fly. He flew over the fence at the end of the street and above all the houses. Shawnky could see the entire city from hundreds of feet in the air. He saw a park by the ocean and said,"That looks like a good place to land." His board headed for the park and he landed on top of the tree. The tree became his new fort and it was his favorite hideout and his secret club.

He climbed down the tree and walked back home. When he got back to his street his Dad ran up to him and gave him a hug. "I love you Shawnky!" said his Dad.

"I love you too Dad and you're right, scooters are lame."

The end

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Unfocused movement steals life

The movement is strange
the turns are unpredictable
black is the color long
smiles are the feeling
cars are made for this
changes are slow but fast on arrival
same is the longest day
it repeats in my mind like I'm sick
over the tops of clowns I seem to land
tables of grand places I eat
low is the temple I pray at
high is the level I reach

Monday, July 25, 2011

I'm bush wacking

Who am I?
I'm some guy trying to be funny.  Trying to have fun.  Trying to love.  Trying to find my way.

I'm some guy with a crazy brain that's out to get me.  I need to harness that stuff because this brain is like a wild horse.  It might have the ability to win races but it's too fucking wild!

I heard that they have ways to get wild horses to perform.  They put them on drugs and they put blinders on them so they can only see what's in front.

Is that what I should do?  Get on drugs, put some blinders on and just run forward?

I'm not sure.  I like paths.  I like to have a direction.  I seem to be forging my own path and there's a lot of bushes in the way.  Can I get on a path from here?  If I see one I'm jumping over and I'm gonna walk with purpose.  Until then I guess I'll just pick up this blade and keep whacking away.