Posts Tagged ‘random blogging’

A RAT FUCK was giving — or not?

Neon lights,
Flying bright,
Over the city,
Sleeping right?
Hardly waking,
In a scene,
A delight?

Life time memories,
In a cage,
Down into flames,
A second,
A lifetime,
Lost to the pain,
Life is,
What life is?

20 minutes into the future,
30 seconds back into the past,
The present,
Just a cluster fuck waiting for a bus.

Merry Mary,
Where do you go?
Time to tell our souls,
Where in time do you go?

Drinking gasoline,
On the side of the road,
A misery?
A silent T?
Five minutes to live?
Give up,
Be free!
Stop the world,
I wanna get off,
Fracking in the mind,
Of the world,
Fifty feet,
To a mile down,
Fleeing into space,
In a worn out automobile?

Flying through the stars,
A last huff,
Before we go,
Into that great goodbye,
See you tomorrow night,
Fleeing from…

To be continued…


I saw the voices singing,
Rising up into the wind and rain,
I heard the song a playing,
Into the sea.

Fly up into the rising sun,
Into the morning,
Away from that darkness,
To feel the light upon thy face,
To feel the warmth upon your skin.

To dance in joyous tribulation,
To that sun,
To that morning,
Mourning in to rain,
Pushing the darkness away,
With a brush of our hands.

Time does not matter,
In the reflection of our lives,
To feel the pain awashed away,
Into that sea,
To drift away,
From us,
To drown in those waves.

Things I have learned throughout my life as a blogger — Advice to the future  or How I learned to love myself in the modern age of Dance

A Look inside a Human Machine by Jason Giecek Human at Large

01/21/2019 – Louisville, Kentucky

I started blogging in 2008 on a site called Open.Salon, it was a fun time activity I began after working at a casino ran by the mob (Or Caesars and later Horseshoe) as an IT worker, breaking computers with a hammer or TNT as they wouldn’t reboot properly.

It was a good time to be alive.

I wrote about the crazy thoughts that poured into my skull and out of my fingers at 3 AM, a thing I still practice today except I don’t stay up that late, usually curling up into a ball in my bed at around 1:30 in the AM, still late for some.

Truthfully honest, I’ve been writing for a lot longer than 2008, I actually been writing my entire life, but, very rarely sharing my tomes, except for one girl I knew back in the third grade.

She laughed at me and that’s when I found out, women are cruel witches put on this planet to make men sad and miserable at their “Short comings!”

I kid.

Some were put on this planet to just run men over in their cars.

Moving on.

I discovered early on that in writing, sad depressive pieces sell better.

Not exactly sure why, maybe people like to read about people having more issues than them.

Happy love stories make them think their lives aren’t as good as the writer’s and it makes them sad whereas, they read a sad story, poetry, etc. and they’re like, “At least I’m not that guy!”

It’s like sad movies, sometimes we just need a good cry, get all the pain out of the system.

I will admit, most of my poetry is sad, depression filled words, from a deep dark place that is called me.

Sometimes when I write such things, I’m in happy land, but just picking at old wounds scabbed up.

For some reasons, we as humans like to pick at scabs, open up old wounds, bring up old memories, things that haunt us as we sleep, dream of old loves, loves that never were, etc. etc.

I really suck at letting go.

I think I get that feature from my mother’s side of the gene pool.

Along with me worrying about things I cannot change.

About the little things.

The big deals usually roll off of my back, becoming fertilizer for my writings, there sitting in some chair at 3 am.

Actually, the little things become good fertilizer as well.

I think everything can be used to grow the imagination, except the news, the news sucks!

Nobody likes to read about current events, unless, it’s a spoof of current events.

People love reading funny things about like Senators and Congressmen and sexy governors in lingerie.

The governor’s name?


Anyways, that’s about it, I write to keep from going insane. Well, more insane.

Okay, I write to keep from wandering the streets and get in trouble with the law.

Good night and have a better tomorrow…

There in the darkness, the eyes of madness drilled into our hearts, the way they did in the old days, the kind of madness who made you drink and you didn’t even thank them.

Politicians, sitting in the blood of victims of gross misunderstanding, campaigned on the backs of dead babies, untruths, close their eyes and they can see the truth, up their ass!

Silence in the rain, the thunder deafened us to the madness that was around us, explosions tearing us from this mortal realm, was this the end?

We were saddened by the times; war was a madness, in its own right, and here we stood, eyeing the ground, seeing the blood soak into the ground.

We moved forward, ever forward, where no man would live, were no man should dare try to cross, there, at the river’s edge, dear blessed mother, did we cross, the bullets flying, each man moving forward, this was the end, right here, we would live, or we would die, there was no in-between.

I was in the front, pressing forward, the mad men, our enemies, charging forward, toward us, I saw his eyes, as my bullet ripped through his heart, a fellow man, my age, my height.

I could not cry, care, even dare think of him as a human life, march forward, to kill, for the father, the mother, even my dear wife, our unborn child, for the country.

I drove forward, driven by the madness, to kill or to be killed.

I did not want to die, not there, on that field, to have my blood wasted into some piece of land.

January 12th would not be the day I would die; not this year, I would keep fighting, killing, memories, faces to haunt my dreams when I was older, to think about it, to have my mind ripped apart.

But that would be later, now I was a hero, valor in honor on the battle field, 17 confirmed kills, a promotion in rank, soon, I’d be leading my own troops into glory, the end of all wars, till that next one that would roll into the next.

Smiling politicians, shaking hands, kissing babies, for glory of the Nation, weeping for the dead, but they died, they would say, the politicians, for that glory.

Not for some company’s oil rights or mineral rights but for peace.

“If Jesus was alive, he would approve of our use of force against these, terrorists, for lack of a better word!” some politician said from the television screen, his face faked tan, to match his fake patriotism.

If Jesus was alive…

But he was dead, in some field, he died for somebody’s sins, but not mine.

Thou shall not kill.

Words printed on paper, I guess, it didn’t matter, I was Death, to march forward, ever forward, for God and Country.

I was the weapon to be used, like any other weapon, to kill.

Death to those enemies of the state, unless they provide death to the state.

It was the only thing that mattered.

If Jesus was alive…

…I’ll be dead.

Or wishing for it to come quick.

But I bet it’ll be awesome.

Or humanity will be extinct, killed off by the rabid beavers in 2134.

Or uncooked chicken.

Chicken sushi is bad.

Do not eat uncooked chicken.

This was going to be a science fiction story; space battles, lustful scenes with hot alien chicks, like Captain Kirk use to nail on X’Gnana, home world to the hot green chicks.

So here I am, sitting in my sleep pants, on the evening of September 16th, 2018, ice cold water near my side.

I decided to play some Black Sabbath – War Pigs remixed by DJBassedOut – because why not.

Nothing inspires more insightful writings like a remix of an awesome song.

I could throw in some Doors – I AM THE LIZARD KING, I CAN DO ANYTHING – or maybe I won’t.

So here I sit, in a place, can’t really explain it, maybe I should have just written my space battle; damn them bugs!!!


The year was 3098, we, the last bits of humanity, were fighting the Z’Gorns, a species resembling a mix between an ant and a diseased raccoon….

Nah, never mind, just in a really weird humorous mood, which is better than suicidal which means you get such poems as MY TACO FELL TO THE GROUND, A PIZZA IN MY MIND.

So anyways, good night and have a better tomorrow….