I wear the Purple Crown...

...or so I've been told. I really don't know how to take that. Am I the martyr the world has been missing? I've already tried dying for nothing, surely I can muster dying for a noble cause. Well, nobility is relative I suppose...as is everything we recognize in life. Time, love, hate, space, existence, its all about how you take it. I take the strides in stress. God, if only I could let go of my woes.

My grandma summed it up to me seeking out ANYTHING to quell boredom. If I get bored, I get crazy. Instead, I stay loopy on the locks of "love" I am constantly trimming for the needy. I feel greedy, yet I want nothingness. Except to lose my reliance on the dinero.

God, I am in a constant drain of dreariness when concerned with the greenbacks. I know, it's a constant topic...it's due to the fact it's CONSTANTLY on my mind. Hopefully the ZZZZs will return when I get out of debt. If not, well...we'll see what the consequences are...

Anyway, here's the Amazon description of the definitive text regarding the Purple Crown theory: "The Purple Crown: The Politics of Martyrdom...Tripp York exhibits how Christianity's ultimate act of witnessing, martyrdom, is an inherently political act. By refusing to accept such modern dichotomies such as mind/body, sacred/secular, and the public/private, York argues that the path of Christianity cannot but lead to a confrontation with the same powers that crucified Jesus. The martyrs as ones who die like Christ bring forth, via memory, the moment in which all the world was simultaneously exposed as fallen and redeemed. York explores this theme historically, theologically and through biography, such as in the recent martyr Oscar Romero."

I don't like this. NOT AT ALL.

No one's been reading this jargon, and if you have, I know and apologize as this post is garbage. Don't worry, I am getting back into the swing of things, I just got somewhat lost in the last few weeks...trust me, I have tons of turmoil on tap. I'm about to let it seep to the surface. Shit should be delicious. Wait and watch.

I love this little guy...

Rule #1: Cardio. My mind's running...

I am having these dreams. Awful dreams. I don't need to get into them in this late hour, but rest assured that Paranormal Activity is VERY slow and minuscule compared with the camaraderie I'm keeping. It's keeping me at bay, staying here and here alone. I shoulda woulda coulda had a casey boost, but I didn't get out of the house ALL DAY. awful biz. shits and kids. thrown together in a toaster. tucked into bed. taptap. rapped across the fingers with a feather. whether or not you get it, i know you'll tilt your head. REALLY?!?!?!??!?!



I love this whole blog thing. It has been a jumping off point. I now feel attuned to the fix that can fix my life...I'd been wasting my life and time on this beast of a mechanismo cheesmo. now, the 'puter is my FRIEND. Hello neighbor...

Creeper.

Armed and dangerous.



Those would be my attributes. I don't keep weapons. I'm weapon enough. But I do know where to go in the event of a zombie attack. It's awesome. Some friends and I had a simple little pow wow. And wow, we're ready freddy...I like what they did with the Elm Street lore in the remake, however weird/surprising that is. My bloody brother was born on the birth of the film for crying out loud. the 25th of september tempted the world to mcquillan madness. a few years removed from the cheesy storm. cloudy and the ice cream's was coming. no one loves the sweets like the creep. im gonna scarf this gelato with the quickness. then its more of the same. shame. i wish i could get up and START CONVERSATING. Bacon, swiss, and avocado....you like the avo too? let's talk. over wine. red, red. cause the white's too light for me.

A Subtle Sublimation of Sorts

Am I completely lost? I don't know what's up or down. Am I headed for my destruction...shit, aren't we all, in varying speeds?

My economic struggles have started to spill into my everything. Love what pennies you have. 'Cause I sure as shit don't have em. Give me 4 Gs and a glock, or 8 and a machete. It costs more to be more personal. Don't fret though; I'll twist the blade for the extra $$$$$. If anyone's looking for Leon: The Professional, look no further. That's real talk, but please don't think I need help.

Ha!!!!!

...please...

the last thing I need is to tell my tale any more than I already have. If you've been within earshot of my soul recently, you've heard the whole of it in all the dreariness and glory that I embody in my pensive nature. Someone recently said I live life wholeheartedly. Shit, who doesn't? I give my EVERYTHING to EVERY thing, and leave nothing for ME. Is that why I feel so hollow in this magic moment?

NO ONE sees my world. It's so beautiful that you're blinded. The darks of my eyes bask in the shining pain.

Many situations have given reason to cause for the pause in my life. Yet, by my own design and the current state of affairs, I can't stop, won't stop. I only wish these nights that turned to days would be better facilitated than by catching up on Daily Show and Colbert. Granted, these two gentlemen do more to inform the country then any news entity could ever dream at this point...but I crave something zestier, an enterprise worthy of Jean-Luc Skywalker. Is that incestuous, or cross breeding, or just plain re-donk-ulous? The Millenium Falcon piloted by Klingons? Shit, hyperdrive or warp speed? I choose LUDICROUS SPEED...

I'll keep posting em, and you'll keep posted to the goods. Soon enough this might be my only networking outlet. MyTwitter Face (*thank Tyke Witnes for that little play on words) will surely usher in our world's downfall...

I already see in your eyes that you can't bear to look into mine but for a second's lapse as we walk down the streetside. If only you would let me see the beauty that floods from within...

Well, I'll write more later. I need to drink some tea and go on a stroll. Toodles doodle bug.

***** UPDATE: LOOK AT THE CALENDAR SECTION UNDER THE MUSIC PLAYER. I'll try to keep the public informed about my tasty treats. *****

Clarity came calling...& I accepted the charges.

This will be my first walk where I don't feel lost. I feel FOUND. I feel ALIVE. I know me again.

I can't specify precisely when and where it hit me. Just a little stroll in the cold and I felt tingles. Not from the chill, more from the thrill. Heart racing gooberfest. Splenderific Fandubulous Magnifitastically good times were had by all (shit, I hope anyway...).

As I finally let myself into autopilot earlier (I NEEDED to rest), I took a deep breath. Mmmmmm, chamomile... I love my Herbal heat pad. Relieves stress in the neck, PLUS it's great for menstrual cramps. It's the little things in life...

Art has no boundaries. A smile is art, however fleeting. Please smile...for me?

:) ...a priceless work...

Drugs aren't necessary, or necessarily fun, but they sure as shit can be. Take too many and the ambulances have to pick your ass up. Take too few and you're left with a headache. I like my porridge just right...

Brunch IS NOT brunch without the booze. The warmth doesn't come merely from the maple. You need to get some of that southern sauce, ya dig? CAN YOU DIG IT??????

Claustrophobia and Lovefest are mortal enemies. Lovefest is a moral shitshow. And I am a total creeper...I musta asked 35 people if I could see their shirt tags...you gotta know who's designs you dig.

Well, the streets are calling my name. I don't have my trusty peacoat, but alas, I will find a way.

Let's proceed into the darkness...

Endure what's disgusting, then appreciate what's beautiful.

Another gorgeous day. Another bout of 2 hours of ZZZZZZZs. Please. I love the dos equis. Keeps me living, laughing at the leafs flying high.

Shit's about the get bonkers.

Ready for a ruckus? Me too :)

I don't have the time or piece/peace of mind at this CURRENT juncture.

Rest assured, the gutters have been home to the cheese. I reek. PPPPPPPPPP-EWWWWWW, you gross motherfucker.

Great pictures, tons of funny and fucking potent stories. A tear, perhaps, if you have a heart (Crybaby Walker'll give me one...just one...). Yet if I take a second and look, in the mosaic of life, I'm forming something from magic. How do you put a price tag on this shit????

Don't worry, I'll call Howard. See you tomorrow SF. Hi OC. Ugh... :)

This is why our society is fucked. Starving kids and Kim Kardashian...It's a beautiful morning...

Fucking sheep. Bah your way to the bank. I need a drink, a bowl, a syringe, and some high fructose corn syrup. It's stronger than the streets.

I've been waiting in Montauk...

I dont know where I'm headed. The dark side's been calling my name, and I seem to hear it now.

I walked into my abode greeted by Tony putting some hits down. But no women or children. Fuck principles during times like these...I'll do the worst of the worst for four Gs and a few laughs. Cause you have to be lighthearted about these things...

Aren't the most disgusting moments quite beautiful upon reflection? When your guts are wrenched, your soul is crushed, and you smell the earth around you dying with your breaths...the very thought both chills and enthralls me. Well, needless to say, I've been smothered in gorgeously fucked scenarios. And I glow from within.

I am literally a walking calamity. A mammoth mess of mixed up misery and mashed potatoes. I need some gravy baby. I would say it's all gravy. I'm frankly not on Frank's good foot. Fucking Frankie...fugitiboutit.

My iPhone is my Abu....stealing shit, keeping it real, tipping the hat as it goes...I've been without my crew. I am in need of a Jasmine cause spice is oh so nice, but even a rug would do. Genie, stay in your bottle baby. I've enough tomfoolery for the lot of us.

Where does the time slip away? I am absolutely certain that I am absolutely clueless on the subject. I think it's a gem of my personality. Fashionable and time management don't correspond with me. I am more of the fucking backwards asshole, gets there as you cut the last slice of cake kind of cat. It's a sweet chunk of pastry heaven. Heaven only knows...yea...Legend is legendary, especially in times like these. And times like those. Jack suspends the bends of my happy and sad. And just subdues the do. Not the Dew. Don't do it...drink Sprite...GRANT HILL DRINKS SPRITE!!!!


I am in a constant flux of fucked fandangling. Why oh why, you devilish dog? Why am I prescribed a dose or twenty of plenty of hate. Out the gates, grounded in the dust, dirty and demoralized, jockey tossed. Bring out the cart. This one's toast. Coast to Coast. Spacing, cause I feel Spaced. Simon Pegg, anyone?
(Spaced...It's the stuff before Shaun of the Dead.) It's pure. It's real good. And people will continue to sleep. Fucking zombies. Mouthbreathers.







I need to figure out how to harness my chi. Right now it encompasses and charges through me, much like the spirits take Whoopi to town in Ghost...

I suddenly must take a moment of pause. Swayze was...no, will always be a legend. I live in Joy in my City, and I don't even need a rickshaw...I do need a hand up though. Been losing limbs as you cringe cause you can't stand to be beside me. I sigh as I let another finger go.

Here's looking at you, kid. sound bite

I don't know a damn thing about nothing. I ain't seen nothin' no sir. Word? words are garble. They don't mean a bit of what they're worth. I can create some immaculate prose and have it overlooked, and then stutter through a travesty of social scrutiny getting judged, pidge podged and dodged by all those around me. I am a particular breed indeed.

Where has the time gone? Again I harp a pluck or 47 for each beautiful tone you give, oh you cruel world. Check up the ball...

The Cable Guy-Let's Do This sound bite

Poofta.

A Ba, a Ba, a Ba...a Billy Boy...

For my brother, forever scarred by clowns. :)

I trust no one when we're driving at night...

Not even my Mom. Shit's real.

Why hello there friends and foes, freaks and geeks.

So my madness has been taking many transient shapes as of late. I feel a brick shall soon be thrown through threes company windows. A glimpse of the gander that I get would have you shocked and laughing. I sit, and ponder, am I really this lost in the now that NOW becomes then, and then I'm taken aback without a moment to spare? I dare say that I may pray to nothing above or below, but I do bellow at my most desolate lows and shriek in wonderment at my peaks and apex. I guess, as I sit, that I admit to myself and any who care to dare to read this drubbing...shrubbery...two shrubberies...Nee.

I am rubbery in my breath. It comes and goes. I feel out of it. Perhaps some musica will lift my sour puss state. I feel wretched and free...Drats to the day that is new. I am but 2 minutes in, and already I feel eschewed from my ideal. Or even a fun filler. I am still here, waiting and watching the clock fade away. Even those digits feel bad for my tired eyes. My mind gets nothing but fireworks, trajectories of contradiction and hypocrisy. It's a fun roller coaster that I'm indulged with daily...

So, I must admit a certain specific affinity, that runs deep...pistachios motherfucker. Don't mess with MY NUTS. I'll snipe the man who wants to stand between me and some cream. MMMMM mmmm mmm good. Gelato, yogurt, shit, you pick the weapon...

Pulp Fiction Sound Clip sound bite
...Shit's serious.

I don't know about the rest of you, but a change gon' come. I was born by the river...and shit's been flowing like a rapid rising ever since I got my head above water. I need some scuba gear, a corkscrew, a cucumber, and duct tape. :) Magyver. What else can you say, the man puts 'gruder to fucking shame.

It's a shame I don't get more opportunities to decompress and let my mind unwind. Mind you, I am the catalyst to my catacosmic sickness, yet I do little more than feel and fuel the fire from within. When you can't beat em, join em, right? Well, when you can't beat what you yourself created, then you're in a bit of a bind. Who the fuck do I enlist with? Me? Myself? Irene took the day off...

Well, I coulda, shoulda, woulda had a boost of something wonderful for those who made it this far. What goodie bag kind of shit can I leave you with, kiddies (cue the Crypt Creeper reference)? Ah ha, I do say, I must play your cards in this fashion, for it is truly fashionable indeed.

Check you later sound bite

Perfect Morning for Madness...

Look outside. you can't see three feet.