Is admitting that you’re gonna kill yourself.

That you’re an addict and that there’s not end,

Besides the obvious end of quitting.

But quitting means winning and that’s fitting.

Unfortunately, you are swimming,

in all the worst shit.

It doesn’t make sense to stay true,

but the road less traveled is you.

Addiction is a minority… the few.

The few, the proud, the suicidal troupe.

We hide from all the pain

Try to live inside a purgatory

We lose ourselves in vain

And we die when it’s obligatory

Who we are is such shame

And who we aren’t is who we out to be

Auditory audibles for fame

Are (our) masochistic pleas

The hallow sound of whiskey

To sleep and to bring us ease

Disease, just a tease

Praying to die while we’re on our knees

Finally we wake up…

But just when it’s obligatory

Lost in vain

Trapped pain

Living in a purgatory

Why do we pretend that the university is the breeding ground for progressive thought.

In fact it’s a bastion for mental inbreeding. We hand select those that will further our intellectual shortcomings and inabilities.

Those that challenge our findings we shun and bury. Because we are buried underneath the ego of our research and the zeitgeist of the profession.

Enabled by the echo chamber and unchallenged by funding sources that admire our wit and expertise.

Acknowledged by media pundents and sourced by cocksure undergrads.

Unabsolved by your peers. But constantly in confrontation with your conscience. The future is out there and you’ve rejected it to continue your existence. It goes against everything you learned but you continue it. Because that’s what you learned. And that’s what you’ll teach.

Dewey John and John Dewey stans nothing you’ve done but everything you have proved.

i wrote this poem for you at some point and it seems a fine time to share it with you:

she smells like eve in the garden,

rosemary ANd lavender.

her fruitful nature leads us not,

into temptation.

but away from chaos back into order.

her light is what guides us,

her chestnut hair and olive skin,

knows but NEver waivers and in the face of the winds,

she stands,

like a cypress in the torrential spring:

swaying,

defying,

dancing,

commanding,

MAneuvering,

peRsIsting.

she is mErry.

she is an absolute force.

she is imperfectly divine…

she is my love.

If I could end it I would

But there’s people counting on me

Doesn’t that mean I cannot

Or does it mean I should

You don’t have the right answer

A nexus that leaves us betwixt

A correct one doesn’t exist

It’s between the stars

Will he pull it continue

Following the lead of so many

Drowning in the gold of Henry

Ta those that that exited this venue

No one really knows

How we’ll feel tomorrow

Is optimism ambivalence or

Or endless sorrow

Saudade saudade we cry out in pain

Saudade saudade we cry out in vain

If you own yourself...

the sole possessor of your soul

Then the decision is elementary...

However, you have never

Reflected on the implications

Whom you belong to

Those that invested in you

The individuals that donated to your cause

That bestowed their wisdom unto you

Whom expected nothing more

Than for you to exceed

Your greatest expectations

You own you yes

But the past of you rests

On shoulders broader than your truth suggests

Your sensibilities demand an end

And intuition no longer bothers

This world has no need for one more drunkard

Another unsophisticated blotter

The joke is on you and you and me too

It doesn’t get better but you can decide

The decision to end is infinite or finite.

I use to think that I hated people.

Sometimes I still do think it.

But deep down I know I don’t.

Humans are beautiful...

even the awful ones.

The worst ones have something they love.

The evil ones have people they’d do anything for.

The misers would give up every penny to see that special persons face another time.

People are incredible, unique, wonderful in all the ways fathomable and un...

It’s the rules we have in place to survive that have made life awful for many and unbearable for most.

That nasty veil we’ve been compelled to drape ourselves in so that we don’t have to spend every waking moment hunting food and gathering necessities is a calamity.

Our humanity is our species’ only redeeming quality.

She’s a crystalline lake

The moon that would fill her on a night like tonight

The body that usually caresses her aqueous curves

Is occupied with another to feel

Her surface reflects the heavens

Her depths turbulent as the cosmos

Tonight only, you swim in her wake

Now everyday you awaken unsatisfied

Craving for only her waters

Desiring to bask in her sea-foam blues

Swim in her endless aquamarines

Drown in her overflowing turquoise

But never again will your cup be filled from her shores

You are but a granule of sand on her splendid coastline...

A whimsical start to her Weekend

*The voice in my head when reading this is John C McGinley, Dr. Cox from the TV show Scrubs, but please imagine your own*

If you don’t know then you’re probably wondering how I got here. Chained to this thing *kicks boulder*. I know it looks bad now, but I didn’t always live like this... If you do know, then you’ve probably heard my story thousands of times. Oh that thief, Prometheus. You know the eagle, the liver, the yada yada yada. I’m no thief and I’m definitely not a criminal. The only thing I’m guilty of is having too much faith in humanity.

Now, if you’d have told me that the same group of beings that I first gave fire to would’ve, some 3000 years later, evolved into what they are today, then I would’ve stopped my “crime” faster than Zeus decides to sleep with a human woman. I mean jeez, these humans today aren’t the same humans that I “commandeered” fire for. The humans that I knew!.. were magnificent, they lusted for life, they were eager to embrace one another in their lowest moments, they were what us Gods, Titans, demigods - I’m sure you understand where this list is going - us super-humans desired to be. They were egoless, driven by passion, and fueled by compassion. I mean it’s honestly gotten so bad down there that they have a human disorder, one that plagues millions of them mind you, named after Narcissus and he was the worst of us.

In hindsight, the fire thing may have been a mistake for both Humanity and I. Frankly, I’m not sure where they went wrong or how they arrived at the point that they are today, but I can assure you I would have never.... ever in a million livers, shared that hot stuff with them had I known that eventually they would spend the majority of their days ceaselessly watching internet porn, eating fast-food, creating “tik-toks”, and working pointless jobs... I mean seriously what the fuck is a sales consultant?! No offense.

I remember, at one point, they could actually paint - Yes, paint! As in with their own hands - an entire natural landscape, detail for detail. It would take one’s breath away and was unquestionably worth the whole daily liver being devoured thing!.. And, the best part of the whole painting thing was that sometimes, just sometimes, the painting was better than the actual site.

Like, uhh... look here, try this on for size, just imagine you’re chatting with your good friend and they go:

“Oh, I’ve never seen the River Styx.”

In response you’d say and mean:

“No need to visit, the humans have it painted, both landscape and portrait! And, somehow, they’ve captured that dismal bridge into the afterlife and turned it into something visually stunning, I mean something worth dying in earnest to see.”

Now don’t get me wrong those types of individuals still exist amongst them, but the vast majority of humans today are too busy beating their dicks - literally and figuratively - to notice such wonders.

*waves hand apologetically*

I apologize, you’ll have to excuse my whole diatribe. When I get started on the humans I have a tendency to spiral, negatively... as you’ve witnessed. Honestly, can one even spiral positively?.. Anyhow, not all that they’ve created is awful. Their medicine... incredible. How fast they spread information... mind blowing. And all those mechanical devices they’ve created in the past 200 years... some of those have even impressed the big guy.

*Sighs Deeply*

Heck I don’t... yeah I don’t know. I think... I think that... they’ve just lost their spark you know? They just aren’t as deeply connected as they once were. They don’t have... they don’t have what I envied about them when I stole that damned fire for them.

Anyway, the eagle or vulture?... the thing could be a bat for fuck’s sake... The enormous avian-like creature is coming in for his daily “mcDouble”, a.k.a. my liver, and it looks like he’s brought a dinner date, so I’ll wrap this up. If I had to do it all over again...I WOULD. Undoubtedly and without hesitation. I know, I know.... trust me I know what I said before! And you probably weren’t expecting this now, especially not after all that bullshit I just spewed. However, I would... I would do it again and this time I’d do my damned best to make sure they turned out less like us “Gods”.

She's as sweet as your first experience with sherbert.

Her cotton candy pinks, sunset oranges, and electric blues... all dancing their way along your spine. Her saccharine spell seducing your neurons, and enchanting the senses.

She's a sugar soaked fantasy perfectly overloading all of one's sensory cells. Her creamy textures coalescing hedonistically with the taste buds. Forever altering your gustatorial sensibilities.

And just like that she's gone. And your left craving another scoop... another taste. Another time.