the distance between

Skyway

The distance, quite insistent is fanning the flames of our existence.

I die in relation to miles, minutes, and meters.

The farther the feeling the closer the fiction.

Fields of flowers precede the hours.

The sweetest hues impede the sour.

Red and blue and pale complexion.

Form the steps towards a right direction.

From home to heartache, from heartache to home.

Endlessly studied the curves of a muse aforementioned.

5.30.12

I am not

I’m not cool, nor do I pretend to be to impress the estranged masses.

I don’t have a holier than thou attitude, if you do that’s your problem.

I’m not better than you, you certainly aren’t better than me.

Why act that way?

I have my issues, you have yours. 

I maintain a respectable distance, unless otherwise instructed.

I treat others the way I wish to be treated. 

I was abused and stepped on for the majority of my life career, it sucks. 

Why the fuck would I do that to a total stranger?

Doesn’t seem fair does it?

Of course not.

I’m not trying to change the world, minds or opinions.

Just simply stating, quite matter of factly.

I like records, hardcore shows and comics.

I’m in love.

I love my dog.

I hate my job.

I drink my coffee black and I don’t like taking shit from other people.

Swell, quite swell.