rhythm. r o l l i n


wrote here may 17th last year after my granpapa passed. was on the grey hound back to ktown, or was it the other way around. didnt share because there was a lot of confusion then. expressing how nausea was sinking in and all i wanted was to look out the window because i couldnt figure out how the feelings in writing. a lot has happened since then and the question, what is the value of time? the answer is becoming clearer as it goes by. sitting now by the porch window across the street from the home i lived in once on a higher level, where life seemed to have sucked out my very soul. And now...


loaner roamer


well, well. what can I say, feeling quite reflective today. think in of the adventure of this year, of how when you're gone you can still connect with everyone here. when my phone got stolen in Prague at the start of the year, i chose to stay off the grid and face all my fear. i enjoyed the solitude, i really reached out, though I won't lie, there were times filled with doubt. went up and around over and under, inside and out, full of lust to wander. now i'm home n out of the unknown, day dreamin


spiritual anarchy

Once you experience near death, i find you'll never be the same.  If the end result is bad, but we got the thrill of doing it why must it plant fear in our hearts.

an aimless wanderer
dabbling here
dabbling there
humbling stars
renewing sun
soothing rain
ill never be 'too childish'
my heart smiles
my eyes reveal my core
my soul ablaze
id die for you



sociopolitical role | sociopolitical war
this is our people  | this is our land
dont mean to be so loud | yet to sing in a soft tune
it's not that i am proud | or that i'm a buffoon
the east and the west | change your perspectives
what you thought best | barriers n objectives
break through boundaries | cultural and religious
all with the use of the | transcendental linguistics
speak the truth | of the human mind
leave out not one | of any single kind


she hides

this songs a prayer
written 'cause i'm weak
keep findin the dark
when the light is what i seek


soft as stone

when a person dies, a community does too.
you can
no longer look into their eyes
you freeze in the memories

solid as stones
yet only exist in your mind
its times you've got a hold on
a firm grip-but..

how do you let go of a dream
this n i g h t m a r e. .  .   .    .     .


barefoot blues

black sheep

....have you any WOOL!?

oh boy i-
been searchin.
been searchin boy,
searchin for
my sou'ls skin.


contradictions of love

These violent delights have violent ends,
And in their triumph die; like fire and powder,
Which, as they kiss, consume: the sweetest honey
Is loathsome in his own deliciousness,
And in the taste confounds the appetite:
Therefore love moderately: long love doth so;
Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow (II, vi)
pre·scient  /ˈprɛʃənt, ‐iənt ˈpriʃənt, / [presh-uhnt] adj.having prescience, or knowledge of things or events before they exist or happen; having foresight


following the omens
searching for the light
& atop the depths of my heart
the full moon she floats
i remember

sin·cere, adj.
1. free of deceit, hypocrisy, or falseness; earnest: a sincere apology.
2. genuine; real: a sincere effort to improve; a sincere friend.
3. pure; unmixed; unadulterated.
4. Obsolete . sound; unimpaired.


blessed with a mind with constant ripples, constant twitches and riddles

let me try and write until i can find some sort of clarity in this messy assorted mind of mine.

--after i wrote the above, i got distracted and began doing something else. hardcore fail on my part for sure, but that's the exact thing i'm trying to get at. i haven't been able to bring myself to write or draw anything. the last time i really tried was so long ago that i can't even remember, but definitely not in the past six months.
i've turned to stone
i feel like i've figured it out so many times. that maybe my creativity is being robbed by my actions. it always comes to that conclusion, but then after a while i become unconvinced yet again.


hys•te•ri•a: [hi-ster-ee-uh, -steer-] –noun

i've seen an un-countable number of uncontrollable beings, and on the usual i inform myself that i am not one of them. though, somehow right after that my mind gives birth to thousands of cyclic contradictions. the same desultory outburst of emotion that perpetually sets me so far apart from what is really right in front of me. am i crazy, or is the fear of reality consuming me entirely. often i think that people assume they can see me with their eyes. i wonder though, how i can be characterized by such a few well-chosen words?
irrationality consumes me this time, as their judgments stick to my face like sap sticks to trees. their laughter is deafening, and i lay here weeping. i guess the feeling of artificial supremacy keeps the blood flowing in their veins. picked apart and served on a platter i am tortured with psychoanalysis. the world as my asylum i am namelessly a-n-a-lyzed until i am nothing but the scribbled lines of a diagnosed psycho neurotic disorder. there is no trace left of my existence i become faceless. placed into established categories characterized with insanity. who am i now that i could fit so dearly into your definitions of behavioural corrections? ~once, nearby a bus stop in a violent city, i found a paintbrush sticking out of the soil so i pulled it out because it didn't belong there. i realized i had caused disturbances by failing to abide to the standard ways of living. they want to have control of all my sensory and motor functions so i don't fall off the right path. they took all that was natural to me and remodelled me back to 'normal'. i became robotic as they tried various ways to keep me from following in the footsteps of my abnormal deviant nature. how could i be given a name that isn't my own, how can i fit anywhere else but into my own skin? there were these weird side-effects from their words. due to these instituted assumptions, preconceived expectations and autosuggestions...i was hysterical.