60 Cigarettes Later

I am not a lost soul.

I still love her.

I forgot what's right.

I've learned how to make money. I am making this computer buy me a new computer so that I can use that computer to pay off my incredibly incurable and unforgivable debts.

Few things are right. There remains little to nothing common about sense.

One time I was good at selling dope. My grandmother and my cousin died that year, and I lost my mind. Don't ever envy me.

Those who aren't lying are simply full of shit.

Roughly 90 days and I can put Texas behind me. It felt good that night talking to her. She said I should call her back later, and I was so wasted. I just said that probably wouldn't be a good idea. I'm not sure if she believed me. Then again I know she believes every word out of my mouth. It's a responsibility thing.

So I'm definitely going to buy that house.

Mark Zuckerberg is probably not a very good person.

I like my wrist rest. I like my foot rest. I like my coffee grinder. The cup you gave me. The car I wrecked. My precious Ray-Bans.

All of these things are destined to be dust in the wind.

prophetic lethargy

ending before starting. scenario doesn't seem possible logically but logically those are the words that describe such gut feeling. potential a realm. a possibility but so is the moon. reaching without movement. mind is itching, involuntary spasms of leap lets. please
stretch. and instead morissey is the skip the repeat singing inside  me hang the dj hang the dj hang the dj hang the meaning any motives left limp at the door shed them a claw hook of shame 
show you won't dance along make no sounds of your own. worth can't assemble
noise before thought.
is just that: coherence to crash. creativity bore such placid snap. i dig that
urge. the pursuit of just enough ego to force words clear among chatter.

& I Remember You & Me Used To Spend The Whole Goddamn Day In Bed

Hey Baby,

I spent this last week working the shit out of myself. I saw your reflection in my reflection and I passed out on the floor with blood boiling in my brain. I don't think my body is in its best shape. I'm feeling pains in parts of my body: my back, my feet. I fucked your sister last week. It was her idea. I don't know why I just said that. I probably just made that up. Anyway I've been working on these things, these publishing things, and feeling like I have a purpose in life again. You know that might be the thing the war takes out of you, your purpose, your direction. That might be what the war won't let you bring back. Who knows?

Just before you come back around, I'm sure that I'll be all set up and fancy with some decent bird. I'm sure that everything will be great just then, and then you'll call or show up on the doorstep, and I'll just know that it's over again, that I'm about to lose my mind again. Or maybe this time things will go differently.

After a few months, I can have Third Eye Blind back.

Anyway, I was thinking about you a little tonight. I wanted to do a thing on the facebook or something but it always feels a bit less than real. As does this. As does everything. I wrote a story yesterday. No lie. Nope, I'm keeping this one under my name. Because fuck it and fuck them, yeah? Probably a lot of those people don't even know what love is or feel the need to demand the right to have something to stay up late talking about.

I'm still buying that house I showed you. Fuck your father and the banking system of America, but I'm going to buy that house I told you about. And then I'm going to buy a new car and then I'm going to marvel at what a fucking citizen I suddenly am. And then probably we'll find a way to throw it all away together. Little powder here, little stupid there; we're never any good until we've fallen off the chair.

Yours,
PHM

When I Was Punk I Was Way More Punk Than You

I don't feel so confident in myself these days, even after victory. I could go outside today and achieve exactly and everything I want to achieve and I would still not be confident in myself, not like I used to be. This is one of the things the army has taken from me. I would also love to blame public thrashings on various forums, but the truth is that I don't care all that much what people say about me.

Other things include the year 2009.

I don't want to talk about the army.

Whatever happened to our little tribe?

We better be careful, doll, or he's going to offer us a ride.

prick.

it's been years since you were
close enough to push
forward
i fell without
moving
a muscle comparison

Non serviam

god might smile same as
mine if only i saw
him
mirror feel
i deify reflection

--MLK

A true revolution of values will soon look uneasily on the glaring contrast of poverty and wealth. With righteous indignation, it will look across the seas and see individual capitalists of the West investing huge sums of money in Asia, Africa, and South America, only to take the profits out with no concern for the social betterment of the countries, and say, "This is not just." It will look at our alliance with the landed gentry of South America and say, "This is not just." The Western arrogance of feeling that it has everything to teach others and nothing to learn from them is not just.

A girl told me that I am her soulmate. I told her truthfully that I get that (relatively) a lot. She was not okay with me telling her that. Guess I won't be seeing her anymore. I can see how it was a dick move, but I was trying to tell her to slow the fuck down what the fuck? Ah fuck it. Life goes on.