my boner is like mc hammer. it grew up in the ghetto and it came out hard.
my boner has been through some very rough spots. robberies, murders, prison. and it didn't always end up on top, either.
indeed, sometimes it took quite a beating.
my boner has been depressed and elated, compressed and inflated. my boner has been legally insane, clinically dead, and permanently damaged from blows to the head.
it's suffered some dark places and rotten faces. it's been boiled and roasted, half-baked and toasted.
not even i am privy to all it has seen, nor am i spared from the trouble it's been.
my boner disappears for weeks at a time, and leaves me to father children not mine.
a tougher skin you'll not find in your days, he'll fill you and drill you with his street scoundrel ways.
he'll smuggle a load in the beauty or busted,
he is ne'er to be trusted farther then he is thrust.
so if you've the gumption to allow he a punction, be sure that your carriage be true.
for despite the extent of your dentata'd she-vent, the bearer of tears shall be you.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Monday, June 13, 2011
My Belief of Death.
When my body dies, I will not.
As I fade I will fall unconscious and begin to dream, but I will never wake up from that dream.
I will quickly forget my former life as my my dream takes me through many adventures and horrors, and I will feel like I have lived countless lives.
Unable to cope with the endless disjointed stream of my own regurgitated experiences, I will eventually go insane within my dream (if I wasn't already so when I expired.)
This prolonged state of insanity makes my outlook increasingly abstract, to the point where I forget human languages and other earthy trappings.
As emotion, instinct, and knowledge battle each other for supremacy, a stalemate is reached and the conflict is extinguished by a complete rescinding of my being. My self forfeits it's will to continue on. My existence becomes a quiet darkness. A peaceful stasis that is maintained for a prolonged period. A long nothingness.
What was once my mind is now a blank slate. Not truly clean or empty, but compressed like compacted garbage. The totality of my life no longer churning, but solid now; homogenous; a platform; a template.
The balance is finally broken by a single impulse: desire. The emptiness becomes a burden in itself. The nature of my mind is unable to fully embrace at. A beta version of boredom emerges as my mind remembers what it is like to feel.
I remember the faintest notion of breath. Then hunger. I remember ever so subtly the feeling of having a body. I begin the recall this memory very casually and then I relish in it. I keep the idea with me until it is all I think about. My new joy is to primitively sense; even though there is nothing to sense, and no sensory organs to gather the information, and no brain to process it. I pretend to have senses and make up my own stimuli based on rudimentary notions gleaned from distant memories. Quickly, this defines my existence.
Gradually, I build up more of my new imaginary body. I add a sense of touch because I remember something about it. I keep adding systems to create some semblance of a construct that existed once in a fantasy. A machine that could experience pleasures that would make me…..happy, was it? And there was a place where this machine dwelled that was filled with stimuli for these sensations; a wonderland.
Once this idea is born, the process seems to snowball. Some force takes over and I find myself on a ride of formation. I stay static as more sensations appear around me, and "me" becomes much more vivid and present. I surrender myself to the change. My dream of feeling good things is coming true. I was once nothing and that is all I knew. But now, as I incubate, I am something. And every second I am even more. My world is being ever populated with new stimuli, and I soak it all in. My new world is warm and close. It cradles me and feeds me things I did not know I wanted. And I am fulfilled.
Now I am feeling on an unimaginable level. I am quite good at it. I have cataloged all the feelings that this hot, liquid realm has to offer. And I know I can feel so much more. The wonderland is near. I can smell it. I can hear it. I can go to it. I must get to it. I am ready.
And so I set to work on propelling myself to the new world. Ignorant of how the knowledge of this place came to me, I press on. Prodding, kicking, pushing.
I continue this until I am tired, and then I try again. I am getting stronger and I know that soon I will break free.
I break free, or I break.. something. My world shakes and falls apart and everything blurs. I completely lose track of the deluge of new events, new information. I am being ripped from the world I made and into something bigger. Fear. The wonderland? The hell.
I realize for the fist time that I can scream. I scream. I have real eyes now but I have seen enough. I close my eyes and scream. Every sense is burning. So is my mind. Things are flooding into my consciousness now that I am not ready for. Things I left behind long ago. I no longer comprehend them. But I will have to face them again.
As I fade I will fall unconscious and begin to dream, but I will never wake up from that dream.
I will quickly forget my former life as my my dream takes me through many adventures and horrors, and I will feel like I have lived countless lives.
Unable to cope with the endless disjointed stream of my own regurgitated experiences, I will eventually go insane within my dream (if I wasn't already so when I expired.)
This prolonged state of insanity makes my outlook increasingly abstract, to the point where I forget human languages and other earthy trappings.
As emotion, instinct, and knowledge battle each other for supremacy, a stalemate is reached and the conflict is extinguished by a complete rescinding of my being. My self forfeits it's will to continue on. My existence becomes a quiet darkness. A peaceful stasis that is maintained for a prolonged period. A long nothingness.
What was once my mind is now a blank slate. Not truly clean or empty, but compressed like compacted garbage. The totality of my life no longer churning, but solid now; homogenous; a platform; a template.
The balance is finally broken by a single impulse: desire. The emptiness becomes a burden in itself. The nature of my mind is unable to fully embrace at. A beta version of boredom emerges as my mind remembers what it is like to feel.
I remember the faintest notion of breath. Then hunger. I remember ever so subtly the feeling of having a body. I begin the recall this memory very casually and then I relish in it. I keep the idea with me until it is all I think about. My new joy is to primitively sense; even though there is nothing to sense, and no sensory organs to gather the information, and no brain to process it. I pretend to have senses and make up my own stimuli based on rudimentary notions gleaned from distant memories. Quickly, this defines my existence.
Gradually, I build up more of my new imaginary body. I add a sense of touch because I remember something about it. I keep adding systems to create some semblance of a construct that existed once in a fantasy. A machine that could experience pleasures that would make me…..happy, was it? And there was a place where this machine dwelled that was filled with stimuli for these sensations; a wonderland.
Once this idea is born, the process seems to snowball. Some force takes over and I find myself on a ride of formation. I stay static as more sensations appear around me, and "me" becomes much more vivid and present. I surrender myself to the change. My dream of feeling good things is coming true. I was once nothing and that is all I knew. But now, as I incubate, I am something. And every second I am even more. My world is being ever populated with new stimuli, and I soak it all in. My new world is warm and close. It cradles me and feeds me things I did not know I wanted. And I am fulfilled.
Now I am feeling on an unimaginable level. I am quite good at it. I have cataloged all the feelings that this hot, liquid realm has to offer. And I know I can feel so much more. The wonderland is near. I can smell it. I can hear it. I can go to it. I must get to it. I am ready.
And so I set to work on propelling myself to the new world. Ignorant of how the knowledge of this place came to me, I press on. Prodding, kicking, pushing.
I continue this until I am tired, and then I try again. I am getting stronger and I know that soon I will break free.
I break free, or I break.. something. My world shakes and falls apart and everything blurs. I completely lose track of the deluge of new events, new information. I am being ripped from the world I made and into something bigger. Fear. The wonderland? The hell.
I realize for the fist time that I can scream. I scream. I have real eyes now but I have seen enough. I close my eyes and scream. Every sense is burning. So is my mind. Things are flooding into my consciousness now that I am not ready for. Things I left behind long ago. I no longer comprehend them. But I will have to face them again.
Friday, June 10, 2011
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