October 15, 2005

Infinite wisdom in nature's poetry


My grandma-like sitter passed away yesterday. She was one of those extremely warm people with infinite love for humans. I remember when she accidentally ingested a dog jerky in jerky confusion. It fucking ruled. Anyhow, she was one of those individuals that I had doubtless trust in. She helped mold me into a docile creature, and for that she transcends. I looked outside and discovered a butterfly eagleing at some bold altitude. This is something that i've never seen before. It discoed all over the fucking place like it just got laid by some butterfly chicas. It was so obviously dicking around in the limitless. After a few, it fluttered up out of range and this was stunning. I believe it was her chi, stopping by to say "what up mutherfucker." My heart is warm and hope in beauty has once again been reaffirmed. Peace butterfly.

Mr. Mosquito won’t penetrate you because your blood sucks badly


People are sensation surfers, skimming off heightened states of excess. They ride the fuck out of these emo-barrels but fail to feed control and grace. The postures all fucked up and the balance is off. The most tragic thread of this story is technique and craft is compromised. You ask, “What are you bantering about penguin guy?” What I’m saying is that most Americans are out of control, plain and simple. Balance has evolved as a myth, now only a once upon a time, Eastern type under the counter philosophy.

People here don’t eat healthy.This fact is a sure as shit in a toilet kind of fact. Most people are fast and in a hurry. When it comes to food, they eat prescription garbage. But the fascinating thing about it is the taste. Fast food is packed with taste, mad soul. Ghetto burgers are slicked up greasers, salted to the bone. This shit does taste good. It does, but with this comes the off balance paradigm. Food made without human assistance is raw. It’s unprocessed, transgenic free, and sexy as all shit. But these bitches taste like Jane. They lack exaggerated taste and for Americans, don’t make the cut. They need to be dolled up in flavor. Now flavor gets me off, almost all the time. But the flavor flave of today is like having a foursome. It is overkill. A quad is sweet, but when you’re mayo cannon is upright, a simple fuck would be nice. Not only this, once you start having foursomes all the time, a tea party becomes amateur shit and there’s no turning back. You have to keep the velocity steady because satisfaction is mentally expensive, and satisfaction is addictive. What’s left of this chaos is prejudice taste buds, constantly aching for thrillers, replacing other means of peace.