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 (nobody)...and 509 guests Last 5 registered Oplandisks nothingstar N_loop yipe foxtrotromeo Browse members... |
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Members 8025Messages 2614128 Today 7 Topics 127542 |
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Sorry. Comfort of the womb and all. I'm drunk,..really drunk...Mind vomit.....I had a beautiful time as a child on a farm from 2 to 6 years of age. My parents were hippies. Well, sorta hippies. Not store bought like you see today. It was prior to the time I discovered the ugliness of adults. It was prior to the time of store bought hippies. It was prior to the moment you discover the adults around you are less grown up than yourself (everyone but your parents; although they are child like) . Oh, never let your parents or //friends// join a religious cult. They are only full of swindlers, fools, drug addicts, pedos and thieves and the occasionally good intentioned person (parents). This was the moment my fairytale of a childhood stopped. I'm still trying to figure out if 2-6 is a beautiful time for everyone and it gets progressively shit from there on or my fairytale truly ended through external changes. Feast and famine was a frequently used term in my home. I don't know what I'm writing, really. I guess my early childhood was a precious time for me. In'case you haven't guessed. I had no concept of money. No understanding of the pressures (in bold) that our society slips itself into our subconscious. I was going to go on about how I envied rich children that had it all handed to them. Children that had my farm all they're lives, but I've known some of those kids and they weren't exactly ecstatic with life. We can create our own happiness, I suppose. Desire for acceptance is the true killer of happiness. Is it me? Or has Eddie Murphy really mellowed out in his later years. Like, really mellowed out. Have you noticed how intensely patronizing TV has become? My name is Earl? Wow, patronizing. Do you know how many people in the usa are like the people in this show and how many people in the show are not actual rednecks in real life? It is an extremely American show, though. Good god (it's on my tv, btw) soooo American. I can't explain it. Its blue states making TV for red states and it's so obvio |
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us. The longer life goes on the more you appreciate the people you really connect with. We are all vessels. Our own little worlds. Our own little pallets of colors. Some colors mix with other colors, but these colors are from an infinite swatch. Especially if you are a gasp "individual".. |
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whoa.. |
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oh. hi, bogala. |
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My "redroom". This farm house had a red room with really low ceilings and I'd watch sesame street and when they called out my number (age) I would shout down to my mother who was usually cleaning in the kitchen, :mom, mom, it's 5 today, today is number 5!!)...These silly memories bring tears to my eys. |
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There are times, however, and this is one of them, when even being right feels wrong. What do you say, for instance, about a generation that has been taught that rain is poison and sex is death? If making love might be fatal and if a cool spring breeze on any summer afternoon can turn a crystal blue lake into a puddle of black poison right in front of your eyes, there is not much left except TV and relentless masturbation. It's a strange world. Some people get rich and others eat shit and die. Who knows? If there is in fact, a heaven and a hell, all we know for sure is that hell will be a viscously overcrowded version of Phoenix- a clean well lighted place full of sunshine and bromides and fast cars where almost everybody seems vaguely happy, except those who know in their hearts what is missing.... And being driven slowly and quietly into the kind of terminal craziness that comes with finally understanding that the one thing you want is not there. Missing. Back-ordered. No tengo. Vaya con dios. Grow up! Small is better. Take what you can get.... Maybe there is no heaven. Or maybe this is pure gibberish- a product of the demented imagination of a lazy drunken hillbilly with a heart full of hate who has found out a way to live out there where the real winds blow- to sleep late, have fun, get wild, drink whisky, and drive fast on empty streets with nothing in mind except falling in love and not getting arrested.... Res ipsa loquitur. Let the good times roll." |
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by hunter s. of course |
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Is the mind a computer or a ghost? I don't know. No one knows. Except hunter , maybe, |
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very thoughest thread. |
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oh gosh, it's gotta be a ghost. |
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This scares me... |
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