Never Too Late!
Never Too Late!
any resemblance to anyone real or imaginary is mere bad luck
we are all lying in the gutter, but some of us are trying to get up
any resemblance to anyone real or imaginary is mere bad luck
we are all lying in the gutter, but some of us are trying to get up
28.9.05
For my people
What, but what - and speak honestly, friend - can ever compare to the needle hitting the vein, the blood billowing in the barrel like a blossoming rose, pushing in the plunger, the warm chemical mixture pouring into warm rich pumping bloodstream?
After that, what else is there, once you've touched god and he comes in a ten-bag?
Some of you will never understand fully the question. Some of you never get to laugh at the ultimate gallows absurdity of it: is it the only way out, relinquishing your soul to a Higher Power, like the 12-steppers or Christians do it? Or to die a sad stinking travesty of humanity, lost all control?
There is a thing that equals and defeats all highs, and that is Doing Thy Will. When you are right, when you are in space and time exactly where you are meant to be and everything you do is right and you are reaping the reward for your courage; when you are unstoppable and your energy inevitable, when you connect with the universe and Do Thy Will, when you fulfill thy dharma.
That is the one thing we must seek for, brother, otherwise we may as well end it here and now.
(Thank you for reminding me, my friend. Sometime, the right word at the right time can save the universe. Although maybe just not now.)
11 comments:
what's better than that? pointlessness. when everything you think that matters, doesn't. it's a beautiful fucking life, honestly.
Yes, it is.
I had to think about that a while until I understand what you meant by it.
Yeah, that's beautiful, when everything drops away. The purity of nothing mattering. "Freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose."
Is that what you meant?
(Or did you mean: give up fighting, Mike, your struggle against your own beautiful self-destructive instincts doesn't matter: they are pointless! Go and empty your bank account!)
I can shake almost everything into nothing, except the promise of death - there's the fucking rub. I wish there were a cure - I feel like that's what you're describing though anyway.
One more hit, and tomorrow the cure! Hahahahaaaaa!
The promise of death keeps me alive. If it ever gets too bad I'll blow my brains out. But I never, never will. It's a comforting thought to get me through bad nights.
hey. buy some stuff and come to brazil. we can use and sell and walk in the streets all night long, looking for troubles and girls.
karks
Vai acontecer logo... Eu tenho so umas coisas mais pra resolver aqui...
São difíceis, esses testes de word verification, não?
You need Jesus.
Hey Mikey, I like it.
I thought maybe you were some sort of wankster, but you clearly know of what you speak.
God is NOT an Asshole
ps Dave Bones needs Jesus.
Thank you for the complement, indigobusiness. I looked through your blogspot stuff and I loved it all!
However, I'm quite capable of finding my way to your pages via your profile, so posting a big link-blue (one my least favourite colours) link to your blog in the post is unnecessary; indeed, almost crass... You see, at first glance, I thought you were one of those advertising bots....
Forgive me my crassness, but it just seems to come naturally to me.
I know posting a link makes me seem bot-like, and maybe I am, but I'm fairly new to the blogoshere and I am just learning the ropes and the etiquette.
Maybe I'm AN Asshole?
If you're new to the blogosphere, then all the more respect for your blogspot. Everybody click the "Maybe I'm AN Asshole?" link for a quick and luridly colourful overview of many things you should let influence your thinking.
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