edits, ramblings, and asides. the time of ascension is nigh.

The cow says, “moo.”
The pig says, “oink.”
The cat says, “go fuck yourself.”

Bitter dark my soul.  The breaking point is coming.  And it isn’t just me.  but I will only speak for myself.  So even as I get better and better and hide it more and more, know this: the breaking point is coming.  And that right soon.

Man in the Dark Suit: You are in a locked room.  There are only two ways out.  Suicide… Or the door.  Which is locked.  What do you do?

I finally come to realize that there is so much missing from my life.  And that is the shit that makes it all so damn unsatisfying.  I mean fuck, I don’t do anything.  I don’t … whatever.  It doesn’t much matter.  The point is there needs to be a change.  And getting a different job isn’t going to be it.  Or enough of it.  I need a wingman.  I need drinking buddies.  I need a way to not only get away from it all.  I need a way to get away from myself as well.  And right now I am never really able to get away from myself.  And I am slowly driving myself insane.  And the only way I could get away from myself right now would be to put more time into my job, which I don’t really like.  So I either get away from my job by retreating into myself or away from myself by retreating into my job.  Neither is all too appetizing of an experience.  Shit needs to change.  The Prophet needs a following.

Some changes need to be made outside myself so that the changes made inside can become truly manifest.

***

a rhymey one

Stolen from so many places so many times
So many words and none of them mine
I do as I do, but when the doing is done
There is never anything new
Under the sun

***

Retreat into my familiar escapes.  The bottle, the drunken crowd, the page.  So long as it is familiar I have nothing to fear.  The same old lies tell the same old story.  Nothing is changed.  Nothing is lost.  Nothing is gained.  Perhaps I do not hate the status quo as much as I so loudly claim.  Perhaps it is just part of that old time bullshit going ever onward.  Perhaps.

Scotty doesn’t know.  Neither does anyone else.  So be it.  So it goes.

If it doesn’t change anything, and it doesn’t make a difference, why do I feel such a compulsion to do it?  why indeed.  No reason to stop.  I guess I’ll go on.

Sugarhigh.

Silently, silently he walks with the night.  There is something about him now.  Something that wasn’t there before.  Something older.  Something hidden.  Something dangerous.  He doesn’t know it yet.  He is too green to be able to smell the change on the wind.  But it is coming.  It is coming.

Billy Prophet: Who am I?
Turtle: You are becoming.  And for now, that is enough.  Sleep.