Friday, November 2, 2012


One Saturday, weeks ago I opted out of having one more beverage when I was with a buddy. The next day he thanked me.  He stated that we were not going to find "any more truth” on that night.

I think that’s what we’re always looking towards though, truth.
Truth’s the drug.

I think whether you’re a mechanic or a poet you find words that are potent when youth is apparent in your life.  You buy albums and read books. You buy cigarettes and have conversations, or you do both of these things. 

Meanings are illusive when you want to have a memorable season.  Seasons are memorable when meanings are illusive.  Reckless behavior leads to memories or blackouts.  Blackouts lead to memories or behavior.   Words and phrases can be chopped and produced, and produce is something you buy when you want fruit or veggies. 

Everything I just typed is perfect.
Everything I am is the opposite,

But I’m evolving within every second. I’m finding truth in truths.  I’m finding finds in silence.  I’m finding that ignorance is bliss when you’re a jerkoff that believes in phrases like that, and I’m like that if you want me to define ignorance.

There’s an election.
There’s a November.
There’s a coast that you live on or,
a land called home that you run towards.
Whether you own it or not is your own business,
It’s my business to own November.

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