Writer, Garbage Dumpster Debutante, Social Hermit, Master Music Connoisseur, Painter, Rabid Baseball and Hoops Fan, Greatest MC of the Future, Trivia Master.
Occupied Coast Salish Land
Joined March 2011
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I am a sub-atomic particle projecting itself onto a fabric of interdimensional intersectionality
gone is the capacity to dream, to envision romance (of any kind), entertain fate, look beyond the thin slime of shit implicitly built into a life relinquished to easy contentment, complicity in the vapid, shallow, evaporating waters
You perform; as a clown, or a minstrel, maybe a bard, anything to pull and distract focus
Because they won't see that anything us wrong. That nothing is bothering you.
Because people don't really fucking listen to what you have to say about what bothers you.
I think the @RedSox Caleb Durbin is a Pedroia-sized, Jonny Gomes-lookin dude. Anybody else see it? I'm not talking spitting image, just some combo.
When you say my diction is old timey, I hear you sayin yer cool with being narrow and stupid, the only rap star you believe is drunk and grimey, with skills that's shallow and diluted
Even scraping the barrel: what does it say when my value as a laborer/labor supercedes my human value.
I don't chase ghosts for some dime store goth fetishism of death. No, I am really looking for other spirits of kind, in other dimensions and realms, but familiar with a certainty ineffable.
You think you don't have "computerized" voices, but you do. The coding of the program is just so fuckin slick, it doesn't matter that it's there.
Howling antithetical ribbons, the dark matter of societal rot, when every lens is focused on itself, a hall of mirrors is a collapsing prison, infinitely echopulsing with horror
We used to be entranced by _containing multitudes_ and now it's just the multitudes we can consume, a thousand travesties per second, shot into your mouth like some fetid load, lapping it up as if the momentary and cursory consideration of invisible masses mattered