Heal Thy Self

By Scoundrel Ghost

Hey addiction counselor, push away from the dinner table once and awhile if you are going to be guiding me down the path.

Where was your god when daddy's dirty deeds and all his horrific sticky explorations started you down the  holier than thou obsession for telling me about higher power?

Try a vegetable platter now and again.  

You too M.D. ! Don't tell me I need to quit smoking, drinking and eat healthier , looking at me with your bloodshot eyes, rounder than you are tall as you write my Xanax prescription with your nicotine stained hands. 

Maybe you should throw an IF in there for some credibility or theoretical discussion. 

I need a walk the walk not a do as I say not as I do pontificating philosophizing motherfucker telling me what to do. I need a practitioner of method before I listen before I consider acting you actors. 

"I know it's your job but that don't make it right."

John Cougar whatever Melloncamp Mother Fucker

Tired Story

By Scary Halloween

Goddamn fucking hole. Dark rat gnawing me from the inside. Let me go. 

Just let me need.  

I've filled you endless times but you want more. Every time, I slip into your greasy sickness. only to awake stuffed, miserable, you still hungering, lingering lying in wait for  more of my weakness. 

Calling at my pain, chewing at my emptiness, knowing the same old return and revisit will come. 

Our hate is one. I want to destroy it, destroy you but it is the meal that slides down your gullet. 

Shaking you shakes me, shaking you pleases. 

The debate always ends the same just one more time and we are done. But we are not. Never. 

You are my oldest friend born together. I met you in that dark fondling.  You crawled to me as I left my body in disbelief. My solace my pain you were there. 

Only the sleep of mud or water's  depth will free us of my pain and your hunger.

I Don't Need To Be

By Scary Halloween 

For Sharon, my friend.

I really don't mind leaving this world how I arrived. I don't need to leave my mark, my carbon foot print,a plaque, a street name, a statue, a monument,  a poem, a song, a piece of art, a declaration, a child , especially a law, a rule. I so don't need to exist so that I can lie on my death bed thinking of  what people thought of me or even what I think of me. It is an illusion, a vapor of minuscule time that disappears in the irrelevance of generations.  I respect those who do, but that is a choice. I will not judge their decision  even though they will mine.

It is not fatalistic or indifference, it is art of  choosing to live below expected potential and strive for your own , it is being in the flow of time, a letting go of the material world and expectations, a spiritual path of being one with the universe. 

Sounds like bullshit? Try it see how easy it is to ignore indoctrination of your parents, your school, books, media, your church, your government, corporations and the manufactured consent they instill. It is a mater of  thinking freely or following the golden brick road.  To be involved for involvement, to give just to give, to be just to be with a conscious to approach with kindness first and only or to follow the masses?

This might seem like self justification. It is. That is what is required to remind me of who I am, what I chose against the masses. That I followed my internal inclination of self against the external messages. Everyday I make a conscious choice to follow or rebel, but not from fear but of who I am. 

Necessity is the mother of all mothers. Where there is a will its in the way.

By Pretty Alice

 It's so sad, perverse how very few are willing to go. 

Only 1% will risk it. 

Sacrifice isolation of speculation and ridicule from mass indoctrination for the the free will of intellectual, spiritual choice. 

The rest run their mouths where they vaguely believe but then recoil when challenged back to their 401K.

I'd rather have perverse, anti-social conviction than none at all, or the convection of the net no matter what others might say about me out from their fear. 

Of course most people have no conviction, just operation, mindless motion. The illusion of freedom when they bury their heads, tilt forward and move in a straight line. 

An age old illusion of our bodies in the physical world. 

Maybe it is my fear that I lash out in my belief or at the reflection of my inner depths. Fight them within  fight them out in in the physical, the daily in and out of living. 

It's fear of losing all the bullshit of the monetary, the fear of physical harm or the fear of incarceration.  

I get it. 

Physical freedom vs emotional or mental freedom. 

The fear of existing without either one or the power of existing with one drives us. 

It is easy for me to say all this now. I did the same thing. Then,  I was blessed with my rebirth. I can see it now. But not like some do now. 

God bless the free thinker in his/her  cardboard box. 

The Lure The Precipice

By Scary Halloween 

 The only real diamonds exist in her eyes sitting on a smile he doesnt deserve. 

All he can think is, "why"?

He feels her inside, consumed when she pierces with her brilliant gaze, locked in her sight,  penetrating his great denial, he can't move, he can't express, he can't comprehend. 

he is so consumed and so guarded that he wants to run to his wheel.

If  he confessed her his vulnerability, she would own him.  

His words, seconds away from a lifetime.

He wants what he fears, to wear her around him, dissolve into her, engulfed comfortably, securely loved. 

The Flux Compacitor

By Scoundrel Ghost

Women have many fantasies. Prince Charming, Winning the Lottery and Fore Play. 

Men. Well I guess it is time travel. To go back when our bellies were flat and our hair was thick and women were tight. 

My best friend from high school sent me a picture of a glowing display on his satellite radio, it read a Motels song. Suddenly,  Last Summer,  1980, he texted, " I'd rather be listening to this on Nashville's now defunct premium rock station KDF blasting from my AM/FM radio in the dash of my truck. If had a Delorean i would spend just 3 days there".

Now his idea was simple and pure. Just to feel the his youth, smell his testosterone and drive his Ford Courier at the speed beyond its capacity just one more time, stiff armed with his buddies, weaving the back roads of his hometown.  

Now my brain can't hear a simple thought without my mind calculating the minute details of my perverse nature, arriving at intricate possibilities, outcomes and pitfalls. 

My first thought is that

I would  come back to 2013 with kids I didn't have before I went back. I've spent my life avoiding that possibility, outcome and perceived pitfall. I still don't go to the door when someone knocks. I sneak out the back and walk to one of my favorite hideouts, haunts. One can never know what comes of a one night stand. Or several. 

I go on to tell him " That's what happens when you fuck when screwing with the time space continuum."

 Additionally,

"And I'm not fucking anybody that is fat in present day. Cause I would keep thinking about and I would tell them how fat they are going to be. So fat in fact, I had to get a time machine to go back in time just to fuck you. "

I even suggested that Ecstasy would be good for the trip. 

Bewildered at my over the top, paranoid and delusional projections,

he asked if I was on drugs again. My only response to that was, 

"Well you take your trip I'll take mine. Cause girls didn't fuck that good,  we just thought did".

Obviously, I would not even bother to explain the benefits across the chasm of the two roads we diverged. 

His plan was so simple. 

Still in my mind ,I thought I was limiting myself to chicks I knew. Of course I fucked a lot of young women when I was in my 40's. Problem was they were stupid. I like clever conversation too. I want a young body that is slutty and intelligent. Such a dehumanizing pig. No telling what this hard working, intelligent father and husband was thinking. He made a simple comment that turned into a dark, pervented rant from a guy who could no longer go back or forward in life, but remain a rat running in the wheel of his mind. 

" That's not asking too much is it, a tight bodied. Intelligent slut is it?"

Silence from across the void, once again he knew and I knew  I had gone too far from a good man and friend that  I had pushed too far away a long time ago.