Strange Rantings


People Suck

This sucks, man does this suck.
I hate not doing anything, boardom rules this dismal place
Most of this boardom comes from people, yes people.
People are dumb, those morons that play sports,
Yes athletes, they always think that they are better than me
I hate teachers, teachers give tests and homework, more homework “to do than can ever be done. It’s the circle, circle of life. It’s the wheel of fortune yeah,”…wait, wait, wait it’s not a circle or wheel or a God Damned triangle. It’s a FUCKING line, or at least that’s what the shrinks tell me, God Fucking Damn It I hate shrinks, and telemarketers that call at like two in the afternoon and expect to get one of your parents, and I hate you asshole, yes you in the third row, dipshit. Now back to what I was saying, people are boring, that’s B, O, R, I, N, G, boring. I have no friends ‘cause everybody is just condescending, self-centered assholes. I hope you die dipshits. I am not big and strong, I’m not popular or good with word, people don’t like me because I’m different, a manic-depressive with homicidal tendencies. I don’t really care if you hate me, or care if you jump off a bridge, all I care about is respect. I demand it, you hear me I Want Respect. Most people don’t respect me and I am Pissed. Just get out, Leave, Now, you hear me I said Get Out.
I am done now, leave me alone, I’m gonna go get drunk and high, and you’re not going to stop me, or say anything at all, not a Fucking word. Now Leave Me the Fuck Alone, I don’t give a Flying Fuck if you like this or me, so just get Lost!



Bright Soul’s Darkness

1. Beautiful eyes windows to the soul.
2. My eyes harbor no bright soul.
3. Darkness hides that wild life,
Music masks the shrill screams,
A massive body houses that spirit
That spirit always lusts for more taste and smell,
Fore the tongue-less man never tastes life.
Can a spirit taste colors, see music, or feel the taste of the world?
4. The black soul a blow upon my senses
5. God Almighty from his place above, clouds my vision to the danger.
6. Okay, maybe not God.
7. What a game life is.
8. Nobody would’ve had me.
9. Shall the world stop ‘cause a man died?
10. Xiteohua tiotec, Chmpe xaoca huacn?
11. The dark soul of It cares little for me.
12. Candlelight darkened the world.
13. Anger reached out and strangled that soul.
14. The Man had no such ideas.
15. Never will life be so grand.
16. Deadly fun is always what they play.
17. But never can life be as fun as death.
18. Mcht tl ley, Teypetel.
19. The darkness whispers of true immortality.
20. But the bright soul of mine will never give in to darkness.



What makes a guy’s ego so big?

What makes a guy’s ego so big? Well to that,
Just look at what he has accomplished.

Man is big and tough, Man can kick other’s asses
Man’s own limitations make his ego so big.

Man lacks the knowledge of everything
So he brags of his own stupidity.



Mirror

I feel lost in the indigo nothingness of a mirror
Floating abroad, alone in the bluish haze
There is no form, only dreams and misconceptions
Out I call, no one will answer
I move around, but I go nowhere in particular
Always I search but never find
Someone to hold, understand and be kind
I pull my sight back a bit, to find
The black center of my being, reflecting all I feel
Still farther back I pull and see my image, only
It is not my image I see, but the image of myself
That others see; nice, funny and kind
Smart, intelligent, and all in-between.




My Home

My home, the center of my being
All alone, light without seeing
Until the end, dark as night
Anything can happen, nothing ever does
Safe from you, there for me
Cavernous as space, empty as void
All is there, but nothing real
I am a God, I am a worm
Peace and war come and go
Home shall stay, so far away
Until the day, my life is end
Anything is possible, fore home
Is everywhere, any place or time
Home is in my lonely mind



Dreamy Ravings of a Disturbed Mind
One day while zutid on morphine, watchin’ Casablanca and Zardoz, eatin’ fried chicken, corn fritters and hot hippo nuts, drinking sangria & moonshine, I had this whack dream of Sean Connery with dreadlocks, havin’ some wildly crazy sex, wailin ‘Do it again’ from his bubbly confines of the tub. He was in the parched world where they only ate cool beans with salsa, century old canned Spam and chili fries. Can you imagine this not so peaceful world of sorcery and over-zealous immortal scientists and sycophants?
When the cats nibbled on my ear, breaking me out of my poppiloppily of dreams, I returned to the world of fusia, blue and yellow parapluies, smudged, threadbare hip-huggers and the garden that needs a Roto-till. From the suplex next door could be heard ‘Hey sexy, Got to pay me’ by Straight Hog. With that I thought ‘Why not Fed-eX them my bongs and my handbag of jars of watery tortuga vichyssoise wrapped in a thermal blanket. But none of this would disturb the Dude, Mr. Diop from pulling that dandelion that seemed to spider-web it’s was across his lawn of pomplmousse imported all the way from Brazil. While usually not one to complain, he just had to kvetch about the world’s intrigue and the fact that his Cadillac would not run on mineral enriched Brisk or hum like a Dragonfly.
Don’t you dare giggle, you know zilch about his domestic portabella kangaroo. From its lips could be heard maniacal nonsense and about the diaphanous impeccability of bulbous angelic fish. Yikes! Just listen to this preposterous jargon of mine, you guys shouldn’t give me this much freedom to stagnate you with my radiant and scintillating whirlwind ideas




When you’re a teenager, it’s really hard to wake-up in the morning. I mean, you get up early, shower, then it’s off to school. Yes school, eight hours of class work and lectures, eight hours of learning and by that time you have already been awake for ten hours. Then it’s the bus ride. Those yellow buses have less padding then a steel chair, no shocks and the bumpiest route in the entire world. That bus driver must steer for potholes, ‘cause every other second you’re hitting your head. Now it is time to work. All the good jobs are taken so that leaves you with standing behind a register, waiting to take someone’s order, for less then minimum wage. After several hours of that you get to go home and do the eight hours o homework your teachers assigned. What, do they think that you have no life? Next you call your girl, tell her that you love her, hang up and catch the remaining twenty minutes of the night in much deserved sleep.






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