Julie Falls

By Pretty Alice

Beautiful how water falls, but heart wrenching
when she falls
It is in my nature to be her net
torn, ripped by the velocity of her
inconsolable unavoidable inevitable plummet.

I envision that she could fall so deep that through the Earth she would rise  on the other side.  On top like a beatiful weed flower, strong, determined
that pushes up through the layers of rock, and dirt
encased in  black asphalt.

There is no tangible to why I am connected to a particular thing about her.

Maybe it is her relentless self torture, pain
that I want to heal.
Foolish me to love my mother I feel in her.
Vulnerable always pulls me in, then clinches me in my illusion
an inescapable vice.

If I have a problem
it is empathy
 as I look to her from where I am now and although I cannot live in her world
 it ensures
 I am not a fool
except for Julie
when she falls
because I fall too.

But I hold on from my own need,
a voice pursues in the back of my minds' eye
that every eventual encounter
will still be tarnished by the feelings of Julie
when she is falling.

A Moment Of Clarity

By Scary Halloween

I met a man on the streets of Chicago. 

This is what he said:

I never planned on being a drunkard.

It's not like when I was 5 and someone asked me what I want to be when I grow up that Ianswered "a drunkard".

I probably said nothing, shrugged in indifference and walked away. 

Even then I would not placate myself or waste my time to placate others. Sure now I know how to diffuse, distract and tell someone what they want to hear to get them off my back. I'm quite the diplomat. A skilled avoider. A magician of masquerade.

But truly a person knows them self, when they are in their element. When clarity engulfs them like a professional athlete surpassing the opponent , an accountant trimming the waste, a lawyer fighting a case or a actor perfecting a portrayal.

But we gravitate to our nature, what we were meant to be regardless of our potential for other endeavors. 

We find our way. I don't cry for Lindsey Lohan. She was side tracked. Still fighting her nature she should embrace the person that doesn't want to act but be the person that wants to live. 

I'm not making an excuse. Don't think I am giving up, I am choosing not to be anything of society but a man with his thoughts, beliefs and actions marinated in the numbing foggy veil of alcohol.

And with that to thine oneself be true I can rest gently nestled in acceptance without regret, remorse or self doubt of what could have been, what should have been but rather what is.  

International Day Of Peace 2012

By Scoundrel Ghost

I could use a  piece of some international today. 

Problem with peace, people just can't give it a chance at the same time. 

Now me, I don't have a problem hating. 

It has been said what one hates in others is a reflection of what one does not like about his or her self. Maybe that is true sometimes, 

but not all the time.

Sometimes people are assholes and it is good to hate them. 

Well for me it is. 

I like a good  heathy heaping attitude of a  resentful  loathing  of hatred.
 Please keep in mind I realize I am the perfect model of who to hate. 

I am an asshole! I spend my time complaining about what I  interpret

to be  the worst of all things on Earth , including myself .

I'm not one of those  who sees myself as better than everyone else.
As a matter of fact it is my indifference and disgust about my life
and all life that keeps me anchored, marred in objective
disappointment. 

It makes me happy
to be so unhappy.
 And in that I love life's irony.

It is like a wise person wrote,

To truly hate others
you must first learn to hate yourself.

PEACE OUT!

Young Men Beware The Peach

By Pretty Alice

For we make our beds that are eventually  the couches we sleep on.

You think to yourself, "I would drink the nectar from her tulip, be quenched in a mesmerized  desire. "

And after? When she loves and the peach has turned to rot?

Lust is about compromise. What you covet today will not be so down the road. 

The end justifies the means but intentions are the begginning.

I'm not destroying myself I'm on hiatus from finding myself

By Scary Halloween

People can only do so much soul searching or paper work before they go simple. 

Occasionally it is necessary to push away from the routine, go off the deep end to remind themselves how and why they started searching. 

A risky necessary action to repetitive perpetual madness of  routine. Interesting the the shallow and deep end eventually produce boredom. 

It's like running back and forth on a seesaw. Not like it is. A seesaw of extremes of sanity to insanity.  One side is the pinch to know we are alive the other side is a pinch to recognize we are still alive. 

In the end, for me, I'm tired of pinching myself. 

We all do wrong things for the right reasons, right?

By Scoundrel Ghost

I had  large bag of Doritos and an umbrella to my name as this vehicle  not of my captianage  is twisting to a 180,
 the wet street is glimmering
the lights of reflection of my life of misadventure
a swirling around in a ring of pinpoint laser perception.

Whipped to an abrupt stop. Alive.

The coast is clear.

Once again unto and through the breach 

Never mind. I survived.

A 360 in my book once we righted our vector.

No harm no foul. 

Set course forward, warp speed.

Fries before whores

By Pretty Alice

That title by Scoundrel Ghost, crude as it is, I concur.

I once lived in the physical plane.  I too knew the need the desire for sustenance and nurturing from outside. 

It is part of the human experience. But to what end, to what means?

To fill the hole from outside or from within? 

Food, shelter, love are the basic requirements.

Those requirements 

can 

free us

Or

bind us.

Intention is everything.

Fries nor whores will  fill 

the bottomless pit of despair 

That hole in you, filled from

within

can be a mountain 

a monolith 

a precipice 

to a whole new you.

That blimp is a horrid thing.

By Scoundrel Ghost

Sure the Hindenburg was a tragic event.  However.

The loud domineering obnoxious she blimp I saw hovering over this Jack Sprat barking out orders should burn and crash to the ground .  In a desolated area far from life and earthquake prone Earth. 

Seriously. There comes a point when I must judge because there hasn't been a point when someone hasn't killed themselves. It is a mistake on my part to  expect that some spoiled  cellulose bloated  self important narcissistic swollen whale would either shut the fuck up or remove herself from existence. 

Foolish me. Now I'm no adonis by any means. But I speak when spoken to and I know who I am and my place in the world.

And what happened in Jack Sprat's life that he would be her moon.  Is he trapped in some gravitational orbit of self loathing or financial dependency? Who could know.  Maybe it is true love. Maybe he is Jesus fucking Christ. I guess we all have our crosses to bare. 

Religion will make you horny and rebellious. Thank God.

By Scary Halloween

Scoundrel Ghost went to church camp. Came back a  horny girl chasing Tasmanian devil , free of pent adolescent frustrations and with a honed distaste for rules. I on the other hand never new organized religion. That being said,

Occasionally a friend will tell me they feel ashamed or guilty. I ask them what advice would they give to a loved one if they were feeling the same? 

Why is it we can give kindness to others but not ourselves?

I think it is because we follow someone else's code of morals of right or wrong rather than our own. I prefer to view our actions as healthy or unhealthy. I don't believe in sin but I do believe in forgiveness of self and others.