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La Blogotheque

Makers of wonderful music videos since I’m not sure when.

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Retracing My Steps

Fresh from the old stomping grounds, incapable of any complex thought or physical desire. And while we seek the comfort of strangers and other inexperienced adults, you sit there in arms you just met, happy as can be, fresh from the place we try so hard to reach. We’ll teach you how to tie your shoes, how to get good grades in school, but right no you know all you need to know. I’ll give you insights but they’ll be from the perspective of a mortal that is further away from the place you just came. So don’t envy the things we giants seek, we’ll say they’re nice but ephemerality is all you’ll find. The things you can see won’t stick around and the things you want will fade with time. You don’t need to come in first, and fuck the ones who start the day with a system of ladders they climb and rank and fall with every word friends say. Stay outside and build a place where carcinogens only take you closer to the place you were mean’t to be. I’m going to stay with you some nights in hope that you’ll rub off on me, but know that I’m far from the place that you just came.

Relapse

I completely forgot about this shit. Maybe I’ll try to actually update it on a semi-regular basis for once, otherwiseI’ll just sink into this chair regardless of what I do. Not that anyones reading, but do you think there’s money involved? Sure arts great but who really cares, I need new shit to lay on my body and new colors to fill that dudes head with my own moral compass.

Everyone’s Sad ( and rambling helps)

I’ve been a recluse lately. Most people try to look happy on the outside whenever in public, which is total bullshit. No ones happy all the time. In truth everyone’s sad, including myself, I’m just aware of it. Don’t fall into the trap that most fall for every morning their eyelids peel back over their eyes and see the possibilities of a new social scene. Instead, when you wake up in the morning, watch a movie on your ceiling in the sheetrock. Pixels if you care, just without pre-dispositioned color and motion set to them. Set by the man on the tube, your neighbor’s narcissism, or your best friends “sick” new lid. (hat for those of you still with a conscience). Instead of seeing those things on your ceiling, make your own movie. Stop watching the same bloody tradgedy every mornng and instead play a comedy or a story where the hero doesn’t get his dick sucked. Because, that guy, you know who he is, he has a million brothers all with matching hats and shoes, he doesn’t understand the concept of inner peace of mind, because if he did, he’d be naked as Adam.

Rough

Acceptance, as defined in this text is shorthand for “lack or absence of resistance”. The essentiality of this is necessary, a pre-requisite to all that comes after or is a result of it. Acceptance eliminates internal struggle. When one looks outside himself prior to learning who he is himself, he see’s himself as portrayed by the outside world. This becomes a model as to which one “should” strive to become. Those people always smile a lot, always laugh, and are set upon pedestals for all to see. A beacon of happiness shining if one could ever see such a symbol. When one bases and measures himself to these outside sources, shortcomings are inevitable. Either the worshiper will experience rejection or the beacon itself will lose its sparkle in the public’s eye. Attention is then shifted to the next new visual treasure that has the financial resources to promote across the lands far and wide. Following our same man, he must shift his focus to this new sensory stimuli, chase it down and eat it up. This cyclical cycle is a never-ending hunt for that which is unlikely to ever be attained. Rewind. Take this same man, except this time imagine he looked inward first, measured himself to his own personal agenda and then walked out his front door. His own values and standards are immediately bombarded with word-fire and counter attacks. This is the challenge facing those who live by their own set of rules.

Scrambled Eggs

A brain is a funny thing. This mass of seemingly useless gunk can calculate massive amounts of information (still not surpassed by the computer, but its only a matter of time so I hear). I often have eggs for breakfast, but not this morning, not yet. This morning feels different, maybe in a good sense. An ordinary wake up cycle is surely a predecessor to an ordinary cycle of events. But for the time being, my stomach growls and responsibility howls. I should be somewhere other than here, but due to my lack of planning and organizational skills, and my body’s tolerance to the sound of a cell phone alarm, responsibility takes a back seat this morning to a luke warm plate of massively produced, probably powdered, scrambled eggs.