Men and their humor Blog by plastik dollie
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Locked up. 22 years with a million friends... Alone. Hehe... Ironic. Nothing's to hot and nothing's to cold. Music. And yet... No middle ground. Release? Through self inflicted art. I am not a citizen. I... Music. I am not a boy, a man... A pigment to your outcome. Music. I am... A heretic in every sense. I... I am... That love for which I am... Music. My muse? My... My focal point? My... My niche? Music. Everything yet nothing. My world is... Is a metronome. Constant beats, word, lines... Constant... Music. Simple ticks... Complex... Tocks. Nuclear warheads... Bombs drop like beats... Followed by... Flow. Music. A mind hacker. A... Mind trip. Speaking in twos through words and sound. Ecstacy. Music. What is music now? Nothing more... Than MTV, nothing... Nothing more than a fashion. Music. Nothing more than vast religions... In deluded attempts to CHANGE... Music. Raped and drained of all purpose and meaning. WHAT? I am a childe of this era... Digitally enhanced through mere headphones... Music. A prototype of a new generation of media enforced terrorists with a mic in one hand and a pen in the other, but always... Music. Always in thought of rebellion. I exist through music... Rhythm, vibe, beats, scales, notes, tones... Musisynthesis; My idea of creating music from mere sounds, pain, scabs and scars, bleeding and tearing, though sex and intimacy, subtle love to outraged hate. Music. I am... Kamikaze... Through chords I write... Through sound I'll die. Music. Where are our artists? Our children of vinyl and plastic? You, a man for claiming to kill on track? Or a coward? Music. How much eyeliner can you wear until an album sale? Music. What language is this you speak in? Inverse it fool. Share with the world the pain of rape... ::sing to me:: The... Luster behind drugs... ::sing to me:: The... Taste of being hated... ::sing to me:: To lie... I'll show you genocide through six scales. I'll have you FEEL this upcoming musical holocaust which YOU have started. Music. I am different? I? No. We. We are not BROTHERS, but rather neighbors... Music. Lest we forget. Show me YOU. Let me HEAR it. I want to weep. Music. I... I want to laugh. Music. I... I want to bleed every last drop of emotion onto a piece of paper. Music. I'll show you mines... Even if... If you won't show me yours. Music. My... Ideas? My... Art? My... Body? My... Scars? My... Ink? My... Words. My... Attire? My... Lust? My... Music? Give me just a few more minutes of you time and I'll continue my conversation with... Your mind. I can handle anything except... *silence* ::sing for me:: I am not here to... To instill an idea... A picture... I am here to just be me. Take it... Leave it. Love it... Hate me. For tomorrow? Tomorrow I will awaken again. For tomorrow? Tomorrow there aill be... Music. ::sing for me a song of sixpence, and I'll show you how I died::
It seems everywhere I go someone has some dumbass comment or I have to recieve messages from dudes online asking me why I look like a chick when I'm a male and that faggots like me make gurlz go gay. WHAT DOES THAT MEAN? Lol. Some people see and hear me in public. I'm OBVIOUSLY a male. I am tall, have broad shoulders, a VERY deep voice. Okay, so SOMETIMES I might wear a miniskirt and TONS of makeup and I MIGHT pass for a chick, lol, but some guys approach me THINKING I'm a female and I tell them "No, I'm not. Sorry sweety..." And some ACTUALLY get mad at me! What the fuck? Aaaand some just say 'So?', lol. I HAVE mistaken some men for women, and when that happens, I compliment them. They're doing what they love to do and OBVIOUSLY doing it right. Not that I'm asking for a complimtent, but seriously... It's the year 2006. Grow up. I can't go places dressed the way I do without hearing "You fucking homo" or "Go suck a dick faggot". It's hard. And even HARDER in NYC. And even HARDER in the ghetto. Sure, many say "change"... But WHY? It's how I dress. I LOVE TO ACCESSORIZE. I LOVE WEARING MAKE-UP. I LOVE TO WEAR ESCALATED PLATFORMS. I LOVE TAKING THREE HOURS JUST TO GET DRESSED. I LOVE HAVING A MILLION AND ONE THINGS TO ATTATCH TO MY CLOTHES, SKIN, HAIR, BOOTS, ECT. So when someone tells me that I do it for attention, I laugh. I'm not seeking attention, I get attention even if I'm dressed ghetto, 80's, in a suit or with khakis and a LaCoste shirt. And YES the attention is nice, but not sought after. A man is NOT entitiled to wear female clothing, make-up, ect., without having to suck dick? Lol. Weeerd. It's sad. People I mean. Black people are free. Hispanics are no longer under Spanish rule. Women are allowed to vote. Jesus Christ apparently fucked and knocked up some chick AND MEN WEAR SKIRTS WITHOUT HAVING TO BE GAY OR SCOTTISH! Get OOOOOVER it! So stay fabulous, get all the collegen you want, wear ALL THE LATEX, VINYL, GLITTER, EXTENTIONS, AND TUCK THAT MUTHER FUCKER ALL YOU WANT!!! LET'S GO PLAY DRESS UP DAMN IT!!!!
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