Kaosdevice's blog: "Machine Parts"

If another person knocks on my door asking for money or to give me some bible crap I am going to open it nude with a straight razor.

You say to your self, stop this, I won't go back there again, and knock on the door. Don't look in the windows, you know how you are in there, close your eyes, pretend you were never there. All evidence to the contrary, call your self a liar, don't go back for that, not again, again, again, again. This sort of behavior could be looked on as addiction, it does break one down, as you put you hand on the handle of that door, close you eyes, and open.

Ask your self, on any given day, would I surrender myself for another? Random, anyone, everyone. We know the answer, let's not talk about it let's look elsewhere. And winkingly acknowledge we are good people for doing it. Anyone would feel the same way right?

Say it's just another day, and any way, who cares? The world fall away simply it seems, relax, just relax and let it happen. Or stop it. Belltower and rifle is probably out of line, but saying no, not this time, ever is, not this time. It is never, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, wrong, to speak your mind.

Roll the dice, put your finger down, and find yourself, anywhere. Now scream, claim your place, and move on, dead run with flares burning, Find yourself, run. Destination everywhere.

Hey there let me ask you a a question, nothing too diverting, does this world make you sad if I may, why are you are hurting? Have you asked it did it come calling, did you go looking, who started this fight? Did you throw the first punch, did it kick you? Why the tears now, down the road, can you stop it can you unload? When you wind it down, no one's around, ask yourself, who started this fight?

I quit smoking a week ago last Friday. IT HAS SUCKED But I did it. I was cool untill last night and tonight. For some reason the craving is ON me. Dunno why, but I could chew concrete I am jonesing so bad.

I was caught in the whirlwind, pulled up, taken across plains and mountains, and dropped on stranger shores. Desert and mountains, scrub burned with curious fires, scots pipes, droning where they don't belong. We stood, briefly, near the small plain, where every last bit of my father was turned loose to the air. I never missed him as much as I did then, with the pipes echoing in my head. Cold, and an unusual Nevada storm rolling in, retrospectively it felt right, like the world gave us a nod, said, "We loved him and miss him as well" Back to Vegas noise, that storm feeling in my heart, where it mattered, later, in Kansas, still in my heart.

Been in Vegas from Friday until about two hours ago. One word. WHEW!

Midnight finds you a bit empty, the lateness of the hour, you look at the collection of everything you have, faded tokens, empty gestures, cross words said oh so fierce, now ferocity is gone. So many things in the scrap book of you, so many things discarded, forgotten, nonregarded, and left. After midnight, to be rediscovered. Listen to these echoes, you might hear yourself, find a beat up photograph, of you in happier times. Or not, these shadows don't dance, and nothing unearths itself here unasked.