Shameless IG Plug

https://www.instagram.com/p/BjCacWplX6FygVNS5qOdcWnQRGLOPC3DlvI18o0/

We exist in a world where it seems every skill, talent or gift, no matter how esoteric or seemingly inapplicable, can, through the bittersweet, pyrrhic blessing of social media, be monetized, commodified and capitalized upon. I harbor no unrealistic goals, because realism has become hyperreal. I live a simple life, one that appears to have placed me at odds with the world's status quo. Good, fuck them. Take happiness where you can grasp and steal it, whether it's by drinking overpowering, ironically cheap beer with great friends, screaming obscenities at the top of your lungs for the shock value, or doing feats of strength on public benches. In my case, everything is words and handstands. The rest is irrelevant. Forever flawed. Forever rebellious.

Condos On Oahu

It's sad to see/ Condos on Oahu I can afford now and think/ Of how it'd be/ If you were still around with me/ We'd happily/ Start that family tree/ To be rooted magically/ In something other than tragedy/ Our house is sce-/ -nic, surrounded each/ Direction by the vast and deep/ Massive sea/ On your hand the ring/ Finger covered by a gold band with peaked/ Diamonds that wrap and gleam/ Attached to a beauty, my masterpiece/ With practiced ease/ I scoop you up/ In my arms and move with the/ Quickness of a fool in love/ Because the mood has struck/ And the truth is a/ Minute spent away from you could ruin the/ Rest of my life so I boost the dust/ In the house and sprint to you and lunge/ In before the delusion crumb-/ -les and I'm alone again, a recluse that brushed/ Against the life he wanted, then was entombed and thrust/ Back out into the world doomed to trust/ No one again, but from then on his relationships are a ruse, a crutch/ That leave him feeling used, disgust-/ -...

Agony

Agony/ Is pounding, scree-/ -ching on my door, hounding me/ So I grab a ream/ Of paper and begin to shout and free/ These words from my heart, it's challenging/ As the pain keeps hounding me/ And the tears jab and sting/ At my eyes, I'm battling/ Another war, how could he/ Die, I thought we'd have a sea-/ -son without a funeral, standing bleak-/ -ly around a coffin as the gleam-/ -ing bugle plays Taps and we/ Have to be/ Strong for the family/ Crowds will weep/ As shoulders slouch and heave/ With sadness leak-/ -ing from their eyes haphazardly/ It's maddening/ Another year has passed and we/ Keep burying our elders tragically/ I don't know if I can stay around for these/ Tragedies/ Much longer, so I gaze passionately/ Out to sea/ And begin planning each/ Step of my escape back to me/

4 Reasons Why I'll Be A Vagabond In 2 Years

4 Reasons Why I'll Be A Vagabond In 2 Years As my parole date looms and I prepare to muster out of the service that's cradled me the entirety of my adult life, I face the future with an uneasy trepidation coupled with my characteristic combative nature. I've heard every excuse, tempting me with bonuses and transparent promises regarding where I could live next, to tales of woe and agonizing regret, detailing the life of a miscreant that fleed from the Navy, expecting to flourish in the free world, no longer bound by the constraints of military life. Eager and cherry, they're invariably met with a crippling reality, sprinting head first into a shallow pool of filthy water barely concealing jagged, dangerous rocks and craters. I'll take my chances as I retake the reins of my life, though, even this far out, I know that my path will hardly be traditional, and will probably offend some traditionally and civically min...

Justin Razor and the World

Search This Blog