Party at the glamorous house.
A nervous boy stared at me, his testicles slowly vacuuming into themselves, his dick shivering in between his legs for safety, his voice growing higher as the vacuum raged on.
"You're not gonna...DRIVE, are you?"
I knew if I lied to this scared shit I might just preserve his dignity.
I gazed into his frenzied eyes with a smirk which served to imprison a laugh with thin chains.
Close enough. I started for the door. There's no sense in appealing to these people now. They're in the past. Dim headlights in a rear view mirror. And me? A speeder, of course. But no, not like this.
I got into the car and laid my head back in silence, peering from my left eye at the house I had just abandoned, still lit up with the festivities of a great, and young celebration.
A celebration I had no business with. But aside from abandoning such an exciting soirée, I had also abandoned four dear staples in my heart.
The first, a fragile man with a fragile brain, one not to be manipulated as it had been an hour or so ago. Probably scared shitless, like the nervous boy's precious organs as it watched his family jewels be vacuumed into a fine dust.
My fragile friend was surrounded by people he could not understand and was as lost as a man in the right place could be.
My regards to him, I suppose.
Second, in contrast, was a boy who's mind functioned better under manipulation. It was high wired. Last I saw of him he was being carried around the house, surrounded by a sea of confused stares. A parade on the wrong street. Hats off.
Third, who the fuck knows, and fourth, a tray of miniature hotdogs.
I felt like the lone survivor of a sinking ship, escaping on my life boat as I watched the ocean swallow the great parter of waves whole, similar to the way I had planned to devour those hotdogs.
What the fuck am I talking about? I have no time to reflect on these dim headlights, nor can I sympathize with the sad tale of an aquatic escape artist.
I drove off, the destination only a few blocks away, I had nothing to worry about. No music however, focus is imperative.
My toes touched the pedals of the car like an unsettled man testing the temperature of his pool.
Slow fast brake fast slow fast.
At least that's how I had perceived it, but the interns living in the logical part of my brain, assured me that I had actually been driving perfectly pedestrian.
My plan for the destination I was approaching, was to indulge my mind with more manipulation. When I arrived at a small, cozy cottage tucked in between trees and fence, otherwise known as my destination, I could see that had already begun. A small, warm room with a rug and a sofa, four very loud people, three close to being devoured by laughter, one evacuating their stomach collections, causing the other three to fall harder into laughter, including one whom had been sprayed by such evacuations. There also sat a psychopath I knew as friend, and a foxy girl as loud as the rest. There I would remain until morning, when I would awake on the sofa, foxy girl at my feet.
in Israel they make you serve in the military for three years
in the old days everyone had to fight and constantly had the possibility of dying young.
those men were brave, we, although with access to endless medical supplies, must inherit this braveness and not fear death. Live as though life itself could slip away at any moment.
Track Name: Symphony Arranged by Ol' Al
I feel the need to tip toe through the old fragile house as it shakes with every step
I feel the need to lock myself in a room and force insanity upon myself to get anything NEW out of art.
freshness is overrated
Track Name: erk album
the smell of an old house is one anyone with a full past can recognize but not one I can fully describe
Boston is strange to me, like an old friend ur not sure whether to hug, or shake his hand- night time improves any city
I do miss my friends back at home, after an almost run in with the cops I know there are adventures to be had, stories to be told, none of which should end with me being arrested
Track Name: Burnout
Tuesday, sitting in my car in the air conditioning.
Wearing clothes that fit but don't fit.
Strange summer days in New Jersey.
Track Name: Night Walk While The World Collapses Around Me
slimy toothy pinkish friends are climbing through the sky
Track Name: Nice One!
where will one find himself when he begins to value his passion for a mind subjected to erosion over his passion for consciousness? the ends of the earth perhaps. perhaps in a pursuit of sanity. but all in all in the end sanity is only what ones mind defines to be normal. find your own sanity, or don't. I prefer the latter.
Track Name: Donny and the Bois
Characterized by a mellow, worry-free lifestyle, while simultaneously losing your mind.
It worked as a second home most days.
I spent most of my time either in the back seat or the front- drifting around the wastelands of New Jersey, guzzling down cigarettes, looking for cheap fun.
My mind was stuck in cruise control and sludged farther into a haze as the day went on, until I would fall into a natural unconscious physical therapy session.
My radio, was also stuck playing "New Jerseys best rock radio"
washed up songs that have been cycled through my mind so many times they've gone dull, dry, and insignificant.
I burnt through all my money somehow.
Get food when you can, get money when you can, and spend your free time wandering.
Track Name: Steff
nothing makes sense at this point
your head is a series of lazy twists and turls
lazy rivers in your mind
with old sweaty men with hairy stomachs
music bends you
food shocks you and consumes you
Track Name: Macaroni MAN
I stare out onto a murky pool
it's hot out
the air is thick
I watched the water remain still like a pond in the wilderness
I may be dead soon
wouldn't this be a way to end
Track Name: He Watched My Mind Go
down the highway
high speed there are circuses around me a bridge approaches I see lights burning like fires ahead and great coal roasts all around me
a bass to my cranium a mysterious drum beat