I never toot my own horn but I do march to the beat of my own drum, I can still have a good time I just don't ever have fun, rule number one, count your blessings, let go of the past and dismiss everything your stressing, quit second guessing every decision, and if you can't take the heat then vacate the fucking kitchen, grasp my intuition and the knowledge of your intention, my soul rots but I red your thoughts like playing tic tac toe remixed with connect the dots, same rules same game same objective with a different name, in fact when you look at the plots core, you'll find a checker to use as a selector now line them up and connect four, it's just tic tac toe on a grander scale, instead of three it's a four cell in a row rail, aw hell, with all this playing I forgot what I was saying or originally talking about, something ridiculously off the walls mean and half obscene no doubt, I feel I was on the right path from the moment I started, then veered left off road like I went half retarted, I meant half hearted, some letters went uncharted while others just departed, vanished, disappeared, alphabetically evaporated shits getting kind of weird, absurd, this may be the goofiest shit I think I've ever heard, ever written, ever wrote, are you emphasizing with the message or displaying it as a quote, my hope is nope, neither, nothing creeping while I'm sleeping, nothing hiding from me in the dark to attack me while I'm dreaming, bringing me down like a NYC tower, free falling like rain drops from a thunder heads shower, remix cold air with warm and a tornado is born or at least newly formed, a funnel of trouble a mile wide and not at all subtle, listen to the rumble as wind transforms our town to rubble, you'd better hope your ass is grounded because that's the only way you'll manage to stay, can I manage to say, if your not underground you'll probably be blown away, to survive a brilliant F five within the laws of reason, within the realm of fact and fiction, what's completely real and what is in remission, a satisfaction of statistics, wait that's just numbers and I'm talking evil as in sadistic but lets get realistic because now you got me thinking like I'm completely optimistic, like what else could be going down, my entire world is crumbling in front of me but I can barely make a sound, I've found when in doubt its best to go your separate way, and after everything gets all fucked up in the end it will be ok, after all if I may say the ending of one is just starting another new twenty four hours of day, but the sunlight has me squinting and despite not knowing the answers it seems as if everyone is hinting, hunting an imaginary bird, that one annoying word, flying my middle fingers to make the scene that much more absurd, as a writer I'm walking a tight thin wire, as a poet I probably should retire, but I have a desire to build an empire out of any and all things i aquire, all the things still needed has me feeling like I'm defeated or the very least impeded and horribly mistreated, indeed did you stop defending all the negativity you've been sending that now appears to be continuously trending right up until this ending.
© Xplicit Kontent