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Sunday, September 4, 2011


To be an artist is to be a buisnessman
but to know nothing of the trade.
To be a writer is to be a politician
but to agraphobic to campaign.
To be yourself is often times the hardest challenge
do you want fame and compassion
or would you like to ease the pain behind the stories
in my laboratory I reside,
in actuality its a peice of mind
a state I find divine
I am in line for 25 states and two countrys in a years time
countless beers and stares from sinners and reverands unaware of my rhyme
single splices of feeling
and the girl who haunts my dreams
im reeling from the fact that I only can spend so much time in designated areas
it speacks to the arrogance in me
I tend to bleed my soul dry of good deeds,
I should treat myself to some appalation mountain sleep
nussled in ashville drinking pinot noir
and malt liqor 40z...writing at malaprops before stumbling to the laughng seed.
or should I be in athens county,
on the jackie o's patio
eating ten strips with worm and roach,talking about how trippy some shit seems.
or in charlottesville,at the tea bazaar
smoking hookah discussing bizzar tactics for modern living over java
...or down on the platte smoking some of denvers finest medication
I am not elated to know the extent of my dedication for being omnipresent
its not a condusive lifestyle.
but smiles from wide eyed loves make the journey every bit worth it
especially tramping around in the back woods of pittsburgh
where every golden tree is stripped of its bark,gleaming from the white snow with the sounds of sweet baby qs barks
and I embarked on a misson that marked the first step in my indvidual journey
clearly idenifying the path in which I love
& fear.
the damndest thing...
I feel as though next year will be even crazier than this

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