When your mind gets twisted and you don’t know what you’re thinkin'
and you don’t know where to go and everyone tells you you’re movin' too slow just take a moment to think about it. Because that voice inside your head, the one they said was dead, is now to be put to use. Everywhere you go, like the church + the man in the robe, or the supermarket deli who tells you what’s not been sold, it falls on you to find the difference. Late night drive thru queens who threaten and have you in all your dreams, make ya feel dumb, uprooted and mean, junk ya eat even if you think lean will always be at your doorstep. And when you’re tired of their voices and you think you can drop their toys + the news team, social club, co worker, dockworker, folksinger, girlfriend, boyfriend, pen pal, jail cell will try to sell you something else you don’t want to hear, you don’t want to see, picked deep from the sea, of the beautiful terrain of the Mediterannea. In school you'll go to learn a new lesson, to outweigh your opponents, to think to yourself, that with your expensive education, that you’re better than them, and that your opinion now is more reformed, more delectable to their palette and your own, more scientifically correct, and that you are now right so you cant be wrong. But they, whomever they are, wont quit. They will be wanting more, looking for you to stall, find another way for you to pay until you’ve had more. So what do you do if you what you seek is not real? How do you convey in some silly paragraph, lacking in sentence structure, love, desire, hope, lust, want, want, want, want? It is one mans guess that nothing will lead you closer to this conclusion, this new beginning, this hard on that you want to rub in someone’s face to say you’re better. Life will always be full of roadblocks, chalk tops, hip-hops, lollipops, and a gaggle of anything you can get to rhyme with it. It will always be a series of defeats, looking to climb some feudalistic ladder that is no different than the corporate ones of the past. It is only passively we can see any marks of progress, prom dress, lie detector test, find the whooah in the birds nest. Sure you can buy a diamond ring and tell the one you love how much you adore them, admire them, look up to them, wish to be like them, but after all that is spilled, moved from the hills, like Sisyphus, inside your brain and heart, you must also realize you are not them. You never will be and why you spent so much time doing so. For me, I wish to say happy birthday, whatever that means. I'm twenty-six, I spent many a birthdays wondering why then? Why me? Shouldn’t everyday we be appreciating those who help us move mountains, dig ditches, drain muddy fountains? Take it if you will and I'm only slightly putting it out there. Find the burning lamp, be the burning oil. Rust it, bust it, cussed it, but be, above anything else. Now its my opinion and my opinion only, you can find your anniversary wishes, dirty now clean dishes, temptress non-delicious, writhing afloat the waves of the American Ocean. Sunrise.