My blood tried to stick it in when I was nine I think..
stuck his fingers in my panties, then I washed in the sink.

It wouldn't fit, so he motioned me to suck his dick instead..
I did.. he came
I guess that was good head.

I swallowed the shit..a kid ..ain't that a bitch..
Now I'm grown, and I'm pissed.

And you wonder why some days I smile and then not.
You wonder why some days I'm cool, and then hot.

He and his friends took me on a ride on the interstate with some number..
a nigga named mack dug in my vagina, I remember.

And this shit has me sick, and I'm mad as hell.
And I want dudes to protect me, cause before they failed.

And this is living hell, and you think I'm fucked up.
And, yes I need the pain..that's why I'm tattooed up.

Lord keep me close.. this precious jewel in need.
I'm feeling like a wild ass, fucked up seed.

As I proceed to make dreams of my everyday thoughts..
I wonder who is there for me whatever the cost.

I'm not a victim, I suppose it's all my fault.
Got my mind back and forth between love and war.

My eyes seem to cry when I don't want them to.
Jay, who is Justify My Thug to..
Cause honestly I feel like it's me through You.
I ain never let a muthafucka talk bad about You.

And Wayne, I get nervous when you talk about voodoo..
but only Wayne knows what Wayne has been through.
Had me a little nervous on The Carter, The Walk Through. But Thank You.. Thank You for You.

Kanye, I didn't know if we'd get along..
But Graduation helped me sleep.. every beat, every song.
Thank You for You..You helped me be strong.

Ya'll are like Brothers..Homies I live through..
Not a crazy bitch,..just a sister that feels you.

I don't want to deal with the world.. I'm nervous..on edge..
So Heavenly Father it's to you I pledge..
And this maladaption right here is full fledge.....

So what do I do.. where do I go..Who do I turn to..how do I grow?
What do I know..what's wrong to say..
Do I say fuck the world and live for today?

Don't be afraid right..although I'm aching inside..
It's hard giving up when you know you've tried.

Stressed, but buster free..
Pac, Rest In Peace..
Thank You to the Music..
You've always been there for me.

What More Can I Say..
are you not entertained?
I don't give a lovely muthafuck..just like Wayne..
And I'm wondering.. I'm wondering what it all really means..

When the fuck do I find my dreams.




~23.

I wanted to write for days, but I was unsure what to expel.. I figure the truth, cause who the hell cares.

This dream world they speak of; show me the difference.
Facing what's real; show me how to be optimistic.

I've failed at this already, so I guess it's now or never.
So let the truth be told, I need to meet with that Rocafella.
Wayne, you too, cause you got game.
Ya'll talk for me ..I'm tired of explaining.

Delusions of Grandeur, yes, and misunderstood.
Who else will have dreams of me getting out of the hood.

Surrounded by skin much lighter than mine.. but I make the choice to stay at the back of the line.

They say they know what's wrong..tell me what's right.

Alcohol is legal .. Marijuana is illicit.. ..
But Delirium Tremens can kill when you quit it.

Mr. Officer, don't blue light me .. no cause for D.U.I..
I am honestly on a natural high.

I am scared .. yep fighting.. fighting scared as hell.
And I may have OCD since God is my wishing well.

I don't know where I'm going .. no fucking idea.
I don't even feel welcome here.

A statistic with things to lose ..
I chose school because I had to..

Don't lab rat me for trying to deliberate my thoughts..
I'm struggling to survive at all costs.

Rent isn't paid, and I've got four quarters on it ..
In this life, I'll never judge who has five on it ..

And if my boss reads this, I may lose my job ..
They'll think I'm ill.. that I've got a loose knob.

And I'd smile and say Thank You, and felineishly walk away ..
They'd be right ..I'm sick of that shit anyway ..

But back to reality .. responsibility .. obligations I must meet.
Deluding to Grandeur to dull the misery.

This may go unnoticed .. these tries at doing "right"..
But you'd notice who made First 48 tonight ..

You'd know what they did, who it was, if they hid..
You'd know if they folded .. you'd know they didn't bend..

SMH at you America..
You're in a fucked up way..
But I need Benzodiazepines and Barbiturates..

No Thank You, not today.

I may come back to this, and call myself crazy..
But at least through the day, I've made it.

~Abnormal.

It looks like it's on purpose..
but it's not.

~promise.

Jehovah.
Jesus.

Please help us.


~Brinking

I saw four faces on the Rorschach.
Maybe six.
I was looking for something else .. but time expired.

~probanded

I can make sense of anything.
And I make excuses for everyone, because Someone created me in His image, but the imperfection I was given makes me too forgiving.

And I don't see how I'm still standing, but it's in His image I draw strength.
Love..relentless.

*****

And I'm unsure where this life will lead, but they say there will be enemies unseen.. lurking..
but I see clearly .. just patient.

Fighting myself to be as thoughtless as most else.
To no avail, I remain concerned.
Unlike most else.

It all comes back.
Karma.
It has a home. Where it watches, and waits .. percieved evil, but it's not. When you take a blow, it silences a sniper shot. 
Assasinate me with the good I've done.
Shoot me. A lot.

Point blank, or from a distance..
either way .. no misses.
Destiny is a dream. But fate is bliss.

No weapon formed shall prosper. Rising tongues, condemned.
My cup half-full. But empty to the rim.

It's all a perception. What's wrong. What's right.
Character built from what's heavy.
Toss what's light.

Scared of myself, sometimes.
Not from this life.
Looked in the mirror and saw what an extraterrestrial looks like.

I'm just visiting.

I like night.

I see you using your peripheral sight.
Hold your head up. Look me in my eye. 
No fight.

Knock me off my feet?
Angels take flight.
I don't even walk right ..to you.

Even still, I can't tell you what's wrong or right.
So we find a way to live together in your life.
You live for the day.
I only visit at night.



~Insight of A Nightmare.

"I'll never ask for nothing I don't demand of myself.
Honesty, Loyalty, and Wealth.
Death before dishonor, and I tell you what else.
I'll tighten my belt before I beg for help.
Foolish pride is what held me together through the years I wasn't felt, which is why I never played myself..
I just play the hand I'm dealt.
I can't say I've never knelt before God and asked for better cards..
But I've never sat back feeling sorry for myself.


When you play the game of life, and the win ain't in the bag..
When your options is none, and the pen is all you have..
Try to take a walk in my 6 and a halfs..
Bet that stops all the grinning and the laughs..

.. If I don't get heaven, I'll raise hell.. until it's heaven."


~Actuated.

processor

I see His face .. He is an angel .. an angel of everything I need Him to be ..
I see His face .. and I get closer ..
I know how I can love so deep .. like I'm in water, but on my feet. I know why I believe in Him so.. I know why I see .. I know why I keep begging for the assured expectation of things hoped for though not beheld.
Because He that gives it, sees better than me.

That ole' devil tries to shake Soul on solid ground ..
The phantom of my dreams .. it's you I float around.
Your smile is profound.
..so surreal..so sincere.

Here.

Your palm beckons. Showing you my heart.
I take what is You.
The Love. The fart.

Jesus ..

Lord Father, I feel Your Hand touch my shoulder.
And The Army of Angels You send, always get Us over. .. and what's Love is how You show You hear Our cries.
You wipe Our eyes first, and fix it every time.
Show Us Your path, We trust you, We do.
Please don't let Us fail at what You've blessed Us to do.


My mind .. ooh Father, my mind .. it is wild. Primitive. Nomadic.

It is hieroglyphics like. Autobotish. Polaroidic. Microsoftish word count.

I may be a freak of fucking nature ..

.. Fucking is an adjective.
A verb too. ..

Deux Minds.

I do not think I am human. Just visible.

I am love.

I asked my mind to stop filming ..

It gave me Hi-Definition instead.

I turned the light out and the pink teddy bear, with the white paws caught sight of my peripheral. I didn't know if any one else free of a constant stabilitator said God and His Son's name out loud, so no one'd be attacked by the delicately hued monster. I wonder if these facultied fears are as authentic apart from the cerebral cortex .. its unique existence shifts, from thought to thumb type, and I didn't want to lose my thought, so I typed it. Reproduced for permanence, and magnified meaning, parce que, why don't I want to forget .. it's a mental exercise to master mental monsters, and they're as real as they are fighting as they are seeking a shield from .. I wondered if it's ok to see what you think like a film, le cinema, a movie. Or if that was critical thinking, or if je was in the wake of bumping into Breton and know him. And he'd think Nadja and I'd make good friends, but she'd know I couldn't trust her .. she'd never know what I'm thinking because I'm always thinking, and I don't know if she'd be able to keep up pace with my mind's run .. she's paranoid in a way.. and I don't want to be where she is .. and I wondered if the hand goodbye reminded him of Elle .. Fierce and hungry eyes I exit .. exhausted .. I go .. I beckon myself like Beckett ..

Coming, I answer ..

text me

..

a moment

What is done in light comes to darkness, and that done in darkness comes to light. Much like life. In the beginning we exist as only possibilities, but we exist. As a moment waiting to happen .. an event with pending remembrance. And the existence of the giver of semen, and its walking nuturer becomes more purposeful. And their meaning multiplies, as so the disbursement and implantation of their seed; into stages of life, trimesters of growth. And that life leaves the darkness from which it grew competent to bear light. And it breathes, and sees .. and understands and learns to think for itself. It begins to walk taking with it knowledge and concepts understood and those undefined by its brief encounters with light. It begins to speak, and disperses its seeds of experience as fact .. And opinions are formed of its source by another possibility of life, who has become an event .. and it continues ...

Combien ways in et out are there? Let us see, and in an instance .. There is artificial insemination, adoption, maternal birth .. but the only way into the world is from the womb. power. How many ways are there to die besides at birth. And I'm glad je didn't, and je don't want to. je happy je jes grew .. and je ne sais pas mal if my semen giver and egg incubator thought about me in this way when they were putting me in there ..
and in this instance I slid my slide back on .. I didn't kill the roach, but it ran back across the dashboard, and down in the vents with the others. And now there are roach guts on the windshield of this raunchy ass voiture cause somebody came out .. Chevrolet of a city about 22 miles west of here put me in a loaner car with fucking roaches .. nymphos .. je took it back, the Fonze-Haired man sprayed it, that was three weeks ago and they ass still running around cause they keep doing it. I waited nine months for this .. this discomfort south of mauvais with these fucking roaches babies and them, this consciousness .. this dispersement of tergum on windshields and glia cells, cause the dead are conscious of nothing at all .. but the living are conscious they will die, because that is what we live to do .. and another one just crawled beside my elbow leaning on the console in a hurry, like I was in its way .. it's in a hurry to die..
.and this is a moment living

C'est le huit juin

Inspired by: http://bigpinekeydeer.blogspot.com/?m=1

Circumambientdeconstruction

C’est le un juin: 

Bleeding Slope of Semen

There is serenity in death. Death made pregnant by infiltration of peace. There is wander that leads to the thought that is empty; but how when emptiness exists therein; For how is there emptiness in an empty thought. Where desire for respiration and obstruction of life’s wind become one. And the silence of death is the unique existence of peace. And life is satisfied, death- in agreement.

Thoughts by: ~ cats_on_cats_on_cats :

Serenity invokes a sense of thoughtlessness, not carelessness, and not mindless wandering; rather it is something empty, but with a feeling of contentment.

~cococ

circumambientdeconstruction

Words are the metamorphosis of language. They are the semen that give life to new culture, new dialect, new people.Words carry the authority to dictate peace and war... laughter and tears.. love and hate.

Words have no stable meaning .. continue to create meaning .. multiply .. fuck .. disperse ..disseminate .. reproduce .. bleed, and a word has determined a view of me(Parker 88).

Language is a phenomenon, in that it is melted into relevance, and subjectively interpreted into understanding. Foreign languages are translated for understanding .. new languages created for understanding. Words are models. We are sculptors.

Roland Barthes says the explanation of a work is always sought in the man or woman who produced it(Parker 58). Does not intentionality fade at the seeking of understanding? Or if readily understood an allie is won. A mind is changed or confirmed; A cult prepares for Rapture, a recipe is successful, a treaty is signed. Does an author not confide in a spectator to comprehend intention? How does one expect such in the midst of cognition(Parker 58)..

... And Roland Barthes said no writers make up the system of writing alone.. He said there is a cultured repertoire of vocabulary .. grammar .. syntax-in the language of writing .. there are social powers engaged(Parker 57,58). Well what then is an "author" .. "the maker of anything(Dictionary.com)?" Producer, consumer? Is the "author" the culture that assimilates language(Parker 58)?

If language is the "center" .. and to what it is entangled the foundation .. does it not rock when challenged by fluidity of Deconstruction. Does the concept of the producer of text(author)not sway at its approach(Parker 88,90)?

Je suis quoi? .. Quoi suis je(Parker 104)?


.. Deconstruction..


Works Cited:

Parker, Robert Dale. How To Interpret Literature; Critical Theory for Literary and Cultural Studies. Oxford. U.P., 2008. Print.