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Howdy Folks!
Did I ever tell you the one about…it’s all about the touch, it’s all in the mind & heart’s hands, the fingertips & tentacles, baby, they dance all over you if you want them to, I know I do.
No, probably not, I didn’t think so, I don’t remember going down this path in rebirthed epetath. Ha! Contemplate that as your brain being eaten by the maggots of Industry, now, trying to take our waste into space. We just have to leave our calling card in diabolical chaste, haste, waste. No! I don’t like the taste.
Though if so, check out the picture above & ponder the yonder of centuries ago, in a land far, far away & try to imagine how many people were touched by this civilization, some good, some bad, touched none the less by the diverse Maya culture at Chichen Itza.
After riding a few hours to where here I stand by the Temple of Kukulcan, I reflect on everything that had led me to this place & time, everything in this Maya rich history that I’ve exhaustively researched & studied, realizing that I still know absolutely nothing.
After all, his story, history, was written by the conquerors & those similarly with a particular ideology to convey, the truth Getting Lost in the subject’s perspective & is typically that of men in Patriarchal direction. You know, a big dick in erection shooting its load into the sky.
So funny, so funny I stand beside a monument to the past that we’ll never know the true intentions of their societal, cultural dye cast.
So, I just relished in my moment, right here, right now, ever so happy for my decisions that led me here, without a care I explored & just let absorb past energies flow into me from Maya cultural society reality.
If not interested in pondering or reading what this man of wanderlust has to say, just go, go away, to live your life another day without a care about my kind of heart, mind & touch play.
Who is he, Randy, anyway?!
Heck, I don’t even know who it is I ‘am’ or what I’m about to say.
This way or that, up or down, left or right, day or night, participatory play or voyeuristic tendencies often touch deeper than the physical, which way will I flow, I sure don’t know, though what I do know is this happened, I chose to do it & I did, & it has forever changed my life.
Just like my adventures, the one pictured above, I never knew, nor did I know what tomorrow would or will bring, where I’ll lay my head, calling it home, who I’ll meet, what I’ll experience, what I’ll think, what I’ll say, what picture I’ll take or what new stories I’ll make to share with you on these pages, yesterday or today.
I don’t know, never do I, what it is I will say, what I’ll try to convey, new even unto myself. Can you or do I, even understand what it is that I say?!?…
Nope, I never do, know anything that is. I love to not know, to be humbled if I thought I did & was opened to the new, to be enlightened to the differing view, from what I thought I knew, for the more I travel, the less I know, happily so.
And each day I wake, a birth of anew, to see in another view, adding what I learned yesterday into today’s view in take on the new skew, always curious to what tomorrow’s happenings will Etch A Sketch itself into my permanent take on life, my kind of stew I prefer to brew & then be wiped away like the BBQ on the side of your mouth cause everything is temporary despite the contemporary point of view that our bubble won’t be reduced to rubble, well, yeah, sorry to break it to you, it will.
I’m a time forgot, the unspoken, no matter the words I reveal in their meanings never hidden as the truths come forth, challenging all you know, or thought you did, happy to be naked & exposed in my candid take on all that’s real, no spiel, this, the real deal never to conceal that which needs to be, & I must, reveal.
Am I a devil or a man with a plan or a devilish man with or without a plan to escape the misguided meddling hands of man that touch nothing tenderly except the lies they choose to keep, as their children weep, they love to Run to their kind of Creep.
See, it’s all about the touch, Human Touch. Either you have it, or you don’t. It’s like anything really, each of us has a natural aptitude for a thing or things or people or places, an innate understanding, or not.
Ha! Maybe it’s your soul I’ll steal cause I’m the details & who knows what the truth holds & then reveals.
Here we go! Pulling no punches, I’m coming at you!
I watch you decompose from the life you chose; you smother me with your rot. Why would I want to know you, a slave, digging your own grave, unable to recognize your ancestral Brave.
Just swaddle me in black, as I try to take my life back from those who force US into all being the same generalized other in you & you & you, & you & you & you, too. Ha!
Free the nip! I don’t need no stinkin’ bra! Ah, the memories of the mamery’s, those life-giving insatiable glands, when touched with the right hands produce a milk like no other, & it’s free!
Just one of the problems of today’s world is that anyone can be anything if they’ve got the money, pass a few tests & get a ‘Title’, even if they are terrible at what they do & have no business doing it. These the New World Order of idiots claiming to know everything in bragging rights. Look ma! I’m a DOCTOR!
Honestly, that means nothing to me, you are not a recognized authority to me just cause you have a diploma or certificate or doctorate or Ph.D.
Do you know how many dipshit doctors & their dipshit nip & tuck clusterfuck I’ve met & the misdiagnosis or malpractice horror stories I’ve heard firsthand over my 54 years of life. Way too many to trust that industry’s psychopaths who don’t get arrested to cut on & mutilate people, always claiming to have The Cure.
Let’s take parents. Yeah, I know, I’m always hard on ’em, but that’s because they don’t realize what they have in their negligence arrogance in treating their children as burdens to their fucked-up lives. Parents have beautiful little ones just wanting to be loved, cared for, important & center of their parental unit’s attention, though seldom is, unless their displaying them as a trophy.
As it should be, as it should never be, as it never should be, or do we just Let It Be. Hum?!?
That’s straight from the firsthand band stating all that most too afraid to say, but I’ll play ball with the hardest of niggers molded by a life of shit dealt just cause their pigmentation is of another varying coloration, branded for life from birth, no fault of their own, thrown into a white man’s circus freak show.
Wait?! What?! What did he just say??!!??
Let me spell it out for you, there’s got to be a better way.
Now on to breeding. All these idiots got to do is put penis in vagina & presto! A little human pup born into whatever it is born into, to the people acting in lust, often called love, to spawn.
Look ma! Look what I’ve done! Look what I’ve made! Hum, now what do I do with it?! This little shit that sucks up all my life?!
Boy or a Girl? Gender what?! If the little human just born has a penis, it’s a male. If the little human just born has a vagina, it’s a female. It’s that simple & what do we go & do, try to dramatize those feeling uncomfortable in their own skin & want to ‘look at me’ in my ‘poor me’ mumbo jumbo nonsense.
Look, if you feel or identify with someone or something else, that’s great, but biologically, you’re either male or female & those born with both genitalia are rare indeed. For those with identity issues in crisis, I hope you find supportive friends, lovers, family, whatever, to spend your life with.
I just have to ask, why all the grandstanding, why does it always have to be the ‘look at me’ freak show have to be a thing at all??? Why are you trying to force us into needing to be on board with your point of view. Just be you, do you without making a fuss or shout, that’s theater, not life.
I’m a male, I have a penis, that’s all anyone needs to know, it’s all I know, it’s all I care to know cause this is who & what I am, how I was born & I suppose lucky for me, am completely comfortable with my gender, body & sexual attractions reality.
To be or not to be, it’s not about identity, it’s about the inevitability that all that lives, dies & how you feel about it.
Listen, you little shit, hypocrite wanting to stay in the closet, too afraid of who & what it is you’re defining yourself as, are; are you fucking kidding me!!!
Boohoo that you don’t like your dick or your pussy, boohoo that you don’t like what you do or who you are, kind of sad really. Get over it! Though again I ask, why make a spectacle of yourself?! Just be.
I could care less who or what you identify as & I’m not caring about your preferred pronouns. You’re a Boy or Girl, he or she, get over it! You’ll never touch anyone or will anyone want to touch you with all your crybaby boohoo!
Touch is about sensation, a sensitivity to connecting via a caress, a hand placement, a muscle manipulation, a hug, a tickle, a rub, a little pressure in the places that ache. It doesn’t know gender or psychological woes, & when welcomed, desired, needed & done just the way the receiver melts into it.
It just soothes, relaxes, comforts, transforms & sometimes, stimulates in relieving an ache in itch needing a little attentive scratch to release a certain energy we call orgasmic in contractions that pulsate to your core, all the vulva has in store makes everyone its willingly whore I so happily love to explore.
If baby’s got the hands that make me feel that certain way I need indeed, the spot that penetrates deeper than deep to the place where only the truest of emotions weep, I’ll let that baby know I’d like her to be by my side for a wild, life-ride.
Baby, you & I know, I can take you places without going anywhere at all, by just exploring an unchartered body, no matter water, human, evidence, body, open to a caressing sensation in self-actualizing realization, just let your hands do your talking, take action & tenderly explore.
A sacred place we must embrace, like above, that leaves no trace cause my Baby doesn’t want to be found unless I’m around, we ignite each other in just the right kind of right, where it’s impossible not to make a sound, too many emotions deep emerge when my baby’s sweet spot is found.
It’s all about the pursuit & once eaten, are you going to continue to enjoy this sensational fruit? Is it a flavor you’d like to celebrate in your daily savor? Or, one that makes you repulse & turn away after it’s all over, a heated moment gone awry that was just enough enticing to get you to take a bite. You’ll keep it around if it’s your kind of right. It’s all about the chemical chemistry bringing about harmonious hormonal synergy, a most powerful of energy.
Touch sensation is not sexualization unless you choose to make it so. Another problem in today’s world is touch has been connected to sex. Though as anyone who pays attention to quality of touch, even if it’s of a sexual kind, if it’s not right, it’s not right.
Of course, we touch during sex, at least I hope you do. I mean, shit, the Integument system, the skin, is the biggest organ humans know & it’s play, if done the right kind of manipulative way, is mind bending.
It blows me away that many people don’t care though, if the touch isn’t good, or not the right one, don’t seem to care & are just happy to have any body, any touch, will do.
Our attention to quality is being bred out for quantity in our overgrown world of debauchery.
If it’s good, the touch, it might not seem like much, but touch, if you got it, you know the happily correct answer always is…rub my back, leg or foot, face or head, neck or chest, bottom or the other nether region & just tickle me in the ways you do, cause you know & love me like I do when no one’s around & that’s something that’s rarely found. So, please, keep me around & play with me until I’m screaming in extasy so loud I’m making no sound..
I don’t care, just touch me touch me touch me, just, touch me, there & there & Oh! Yes! THERE!!!
Fuck the lies in blind faith submission coercion & the fake for now, I choose to Dare! Cause I always Dare to tell the Truth! My truth anyway, the ways I see it, the ways I live it, the ways to only a few do I choose to give it.
Though I get it, the truth is to dare; boy! That’s all it takes to break you to completely remake you.
Shivers up & down my spine where my Hypothalamus has a Passion Play throughout my entire being, & sometimes even into my groin, where cloth removed from my loin, now exposed, where touch sensations cause my enlarged member to penetrate the orifice slit in fissure, though only if you really, really want to, cause if you do I promise you there’ll be no equaling what I can do for you in your contracting, pulling me deep in, then, pushing me out again, you’re in control, in & out, in & out, pause, hold it, deeper still, pause, rewind, again & again & again & again. After all, isn’t it really what it’s all about no matter the distractions we scatter about in Sex Pistols shooting Love & Rockets into you, a little tickle from The Psychedelic Furs as I make your kitten purrs.
If so, the sexual can dive deep into the depths of myself new now only to you. If sensual can go from my skull to my feet where curled, then stretched outwardly as the contraction deep within come out & explodes my delightfully little toes. It’s quite the symphony of pleasure if you’ve let the right one in. A Tango, a Ballet, a dance like no other in duet to uncover the secrets held within the players at love.
Spread wide, let me taste what you got, what you’re made of, are we well fitted like a peace & love dove love glove, where only the sweetest of love drips & oozes into the mouths open with anticipation. Where every inch of you I’m into, from the smell of your hair to your feet in curled toes, stretched out in pleasure.
Yeah! I’ll suck ’em too if you touch me just your kind of right way deep, cause I like your feet tiptoeing deep into all of me, to the fields we go to learn & grow from all mother nature has to show, us, a duo like not other in touch chemistry that loves onto me, cause no matter the intended touch, you’ll set me free.
Everyone loves a good touch, oh so much; oh, so much! Just one touch to set me free to see differently.
We are interconnected to affection through touch, through deep, close proximity attention, when snuggling, cuddling, hugging, holding, we’re transcended to a different dimension when we allow ourselves to receive unconditional attention.
Dropping our guard to allow another to retard our heart back to a childlike time where we knew nothing more than being in the moments & just wanted to feel pleasure, what a treasure, one beyond measure. For as we grow older to old, most get tainted along the way, agreeing to shed & put their Young At Heart, childlike ways on the shelf & become walking decay. The children grown still know how to play the right kind of Getting Lost in the awe & wonder, wonderful wandering, touching along the way.
Raw, exposed, vulnerable, penetrable, desirable, transformed, reborn, transfixed, hyper-stimulated, relaxed, perplexed, open, tingling, caressing, pulsating, deep, contracting, released, relieved.
Stay with me awhile & chill.
Love Me Tender in all your loving splendor as I remember what just happened between us, young & in hyper-lust, we’d fuck so hard till the sun rose the next day. We were out of our minds, just letting our bodies do what they knew they wanted to, it was beyond & out of our thought control. We were wild, feral, primal, unleashed in each other’s romance Getting Lost in our sexual lust Slip ‘N Slide ride.
Just one touch led the way to a universe of sensation altering my mind through body manipulation, never a destination, an ongoing revelation, this sacral, neurological penetration through the touch sensation. We didn’t think about it, we just did it, in the moment cause thinking’s overrated.
My first wasn’t the worst, it was the BEST! None since could ever stand the test of that remembered time in times, in today’s world of fucktardery would be considered crimes. It’s all just nature baby, just nature.
Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU!
I never dance with a stranger, not cause that stranger might be stranger-danger, strangers just possible friends or lovers I haven’t met yet.
I just want to know what I’m buying; I want her to be my kind of taste, the softest touch, one that I’ll cherish so much as we choose to be in the company of each other’s right kind of ouch touch cause it Hurts So Good. So, when you come home to the familiar it’s a Good Feeling, A Good Feelin’ to Know.
Yeah! It hurts so good, just my kind of right came into clear sight.
I’m just happy to know my baby is my kind of crazy in love with me, where we lay snuggled amongst the daisy, a little light-headed, a little hazy, a little tenderly tough like found in Patrick Swayze, Roadhouse baby, Ghost baby, The Outsiders baby, Point Break baby, a pretty crazy-cool dude with a down to Earth attitude.
What a prelude to a great life lived.
Hum?!? Where did that come from?!
Don’t really know, just go with it as we touch ourselves cause all of US are a Dirty Dancing whore as we explore ways to touch & play, Scratch & Sniff, sniff, sniff & scratch just right all day when you play my right kind of way.
Yeah! You like my kind of whiff emanating from just under where my tail used to be, smell me & you’ll know the real me & you know you’ll want to follow my kind of Alpha vibrations around a succulent town from which you’ll never run away.
Lucky for me, I’ve been listening to all that have come before me, trying so hard to hear those yet to come, though content in my present moments as I run & I run to catch up with the sun, but I never miss the fun along the way cause I like to play, play, play.
Can you guess what I’m thinking??!!
Tag! You’re it!
Chase me, chase me, CHASE ME!!!
Once caught, smell me, manipulate me, touch me, taste me, you’ll see.
Ah, the innocent in how the young see, still free & full of vibrancy.
You know, if not grown to a corrupted piece of shit in manipulative asshole like most become, innocence is everything cause everything to you is new & depending on your view, your point might hit its mark in me wanting so desperately to be with you, or not.
That’s one of my tricks in figuring it ALL out, for me anyway. I live life gazing into my Alice Through the Looking Glass spectacles with a childlike heart & a childlike mind with eyes into the soul, all thanks to Carroll who was brave enough to dance with the worlds of Literary Nonsense.
It’s really not up to me or you, it’s up to something completely out of our known view, the unseen, the keen to know its own kind. I love to relive the best years of my life, over and over, and over again, & again & again & again & again. So happy it won’t ever end, for the skips in my records needing to be replayed are my kind of lover.
Oh, where oh where did my little hand roam, oh where oh where did it roam?! Oh, Randy, you’re so racy with your spacey titillating, twisted dialect that never do you never ever spare attention to detail for minds open to your kind of Madness.
My life not my own when I roam over the keyboard as my fingers dance over some skin unknown, yet, only wanting to be shown the juicy bits so tasty in tangy parts when skin get pasty, thick with sweat, moist in perspiration, a retaliation to the happiness exuberated from the skin manipulation; how ironic, the elixir in tonic one in the same.
I’ll never be tame, how lame, yeah, gone Insane in the Brain, membrane Runaway Train, all tied up inside when you let ride the slide in & out, inside out, yeah, I’m coming in hard & I won’t stop until you look me in the eyes. Like shooting a gun when you squeeze oh, so gently as the ‘pop’ should always produce a controlled shocked response, that, yeah! That just happened.
A Pragmatic Temporal Connection, one, that will certainly be remembered in memories so found logged as one that is profound in the grasp that Take Hold of the Flame, never tame, never lame, never to blame for the shame that the world loves to live within their Deity’s list of sin, cause those who care recognize that everyone else around them shares nothing but lies. Lies! Lies! Lies! Yeah!
I want to connect so very bad, though I have to say, these idiots with whom I roam day in & day out with I’d rather not play, are abundant in their each, special sort of redundant, such the discomfort to the ones who never come to pass as I say, in their own special way! Alas!
Never crass, just a little sassafras swift kick in the ass as I try to spice up my life as I dine on all the girls who are so tired of being treated like you’re blind to who they are & what they need so very bad. I’m just glad I understand & respond accordingly to their sort of mad & keep to myself.
A woman wants to be seen, to be loved, to be fawned over like no other. Do that, though only if Truly Madly Deeply in love with your Fawn, your potential pawn, though only if I choose to play, games the traditional way, designed to contain, meant to drain you of your internal childlike essence.
If you choose a different kind of vane without understanding the Stallion beneath the saddled reign over the wild child riding & running in wanderlust, girls cumming from the gallop of a muscular steed between their legs, then I feel for you, cause I know no other way to be than a wild child running free & wild in Stallion never gelded, never conforming though always following my natural Phenotype.
Did I make you uncomfortable sitting on your couch or at your desk. How can this man-child, Randy, totally understand that the girls have all the command if set free to their full potential, unbridled, wild & running free to just be what it is they were evolved to be. How can he, a boy, a man, see what most, even our own gender, unable to decree? Simply, I observe, I participate, I see how all choose to masturbate before they evaporate back to a place out of time, out of mind.
Ah life, seems such a waste, if this is all we are, & that’s why, Dear Prudence, I always come out to play, especially with you, such a thrill Buffalo Bill, or is it The Continuing Story of Bungalow Bill, I certainly know, I don’t know. Yes! Please! I’ll have both, While My Guitar Gently Weeps.
See, But the Little Girls Understand.
Cause anyone who’s anyone knows, one touch is never enough when you get past the rough stuff in all the huff & puff, Puff the Magic Dragon, & then, when we’re Back in the Saddle Again to our own purity’s child, I’ll blow your only known house in, side by side by side by side, the good with the bad will always collide if you choose the definitions of another man’s renditions of how to Play the Game, The Game, of life, your way or his way to be man, so, what will it be, whatcha gonna do?! Me, I know what I’m gonna do cause I’m so into you & that’s all I need to know, for Nothing Else Matters.
One touch is never enough when you’ve got all The Right Stuff, cause I’m a Magic Man & I’ve got magic hands. Girl, You Know It’s True.
No one is dangerous if you want it. No one is wrong if you want it. Do you want it?! Yeah, you know you do, so have at it, let it all out, why wait & don’t hesitate for if you do, the opportunity might just Get Lost & pass on you, so let the touch flow through you, absorb its true into you. You only live once & some don’t live at all.
So, when I came upon this solitary moment captured above, I didn’t need a shove, I’ve been there all along, singing the native song, so tired of the Americanization of everything, EVERYTHING!!! What a terrible song to sing as the so-called patriots sit & spin on their merry-go-round of stupid of mind, body, spirit & sound, in Pledge Allegiance & National Anthem lunatics loved sound, how profound.
Did I break any ground or are the one’s reading this too wrapped up their own sound that they continue to neglect the one in ones most important to their world, their children. Even if not their own, the children of tomorrow are left with, right now, nothing but our stupidity & sorrows actualized from our ancestorial tree that has nothing to do with the free & slaughtered all that once were called Brave, my Northern Native Indian Warrior brother from another mother so profound, my kind of sound.
Sure, it’s bleak, that’s what happens when the human meek in cancerous cockroaches inherit the Earth. Sure, it’s tough stuff to say, but it has to be said, it has to be heard, I’m tired of this New World Order of deaf, dumb & blind kind of ignorant mind sort of Roundabout passively aggressive way.
On top of that, we don’t touch anymore, too in a rush to get to the store to buy, buy, buy thought happiness, when if you look next to you, your happiness is right by your side, waiting for your touch. It might do you some good to shed the rush in rushing about & drop needle to a little RUSH on your Turntable, Phonograph, Jukebox, record player, whatever you want to call it. Yeah, that trio of Canadians just might teach you a thing or two if you let them in & allow them to Show Me Don’t Tell Me, bringing your youthfulness back into your view, back into your Young at Heart child-like skew, Reunited.
Hold me, want me, touch me, after all wasn’t it you that decided to breed me into this being sitting beside you that you don’t even notice anymore save to be a burden & bore. Mommy, Daddy, I’m not your whore to play the poor me curtain call role, I’m no mole, I’m my own role in life I’ve lived & yet to live.
What a bore all this mass consumptive industry’s whore will leave nothing in your mouth but a bad taste and an infectious sore, ‘Marla, the little scratch on the roof of your mouth that would heal, only if you’d stop tonguing it, but you can’t‘, that is, unless you’re able to get to the deeper core of the matters that matter & follow the rules of Fight Club‘s infinite wisdom.
If we keep allowing the fake plasticine world to touch us to our core, we’ll be transformed like never before. No more nature’s whore, a natural delight, living wild, pure, free, naked, one within the biggest playground ever known.
No, now we’re Industry’s whore, rushing to our demise in our becoming A.I. plight so we can live in 24/7 light. Got to keep working drones of worker bee clones, line up by the thousands & thousands demanding the right to work.
See, all that releases dopamine comes in many, many shapes & forms that titillate your late-night norms of behaviors shaped by all the wrong kind of right that try as you might you’ll never see if you’re unaware of all you’ve allowed yourself to unsee what it is really, hiding within your TV. Yeah, see, that’s a foreign concept to me, not caring to know because I want to know EVERYTHING, EVERYTHING!
Not in a study kind of way, more of an intuitive sort where my heart & mind contort to the flow of the new design as I combine & intertwine to a different state of happiness mind by just simply observing & understanding mannerisms to their core.
What is it I’m trying to say, what am I trying to convey?
Hum, some might say in their takeaway of these worded internalizations needing to be expelled like a troublemaker student who would rather masturbate rather than articulate as a fool who believes in school because of all youthful moments they need to ‘rub-one-out’, the most natural way to learn about & explore their body to their sexual core cause they’re full of raging hormones that MUST be soothed, quieted, released.
Don’t pretend that you don’t know exactly what I’m talking about, acting like my words did just offend you to your core, don’t be a little hypocritical lying whore who snuggles up under the blankets at night with mother’s little helper in magic wand, or just some old school fingering to hit the right spot, more so, than not, cause when you hit the YES spot, it’s Everything, cause when I think about you I Touch Myself.
You know that kind of touch just right in the kind of grip in pressure that only you know, just the best kind of tight, snuggling up right tight at night or whenever or wherever the desire strikes.
We’ve been bred & taught to lie about everything, EVERYTHING! To make up lies to rear, coerce, deceive as only fools actually believe if they don’t tell the truth to the youth of tomorrow, that they’ll be somehow protected, as they let complete strangers, who they don’t really care to know, raise their children. Shh, don’t tell them, lie to them, hope they’ll never know what we all grow to know, nothing but a circus freak show of lies, lies, lies to conceal our forced conformation cries. Children are resilient, for they rule the world, cause all leaders were little once too & from those who kept the young at heart view came the new kind of new, who knew.
Still true, pure from the, our, source, so of course, those corrupted don’t want to hear the truth from the mouths of babes who know way more than me or you cause they’re fresh from the sorcerer’s brew set to simmer to stew so afraid to let them see the real deal view of the shit show we’ve somehow managed to bestow upon our precious little ones.
Have I made you uncomfortable? If so, good, I’m sure you need a little reality shaking your world of lies, Throwing Stones living in your Glass Houses of heart shattering hell in all the lies you choose to tell.
Hey, I know, don’t get mad, get even, right?!?! Fuck being our own grave diggers blind now to how we’ve been imprinted upon in cultural traditions covertly oppressive, don’t bitch to me, niggers, you now call yourselves that, you’re the ones who let the white man tell you what it is you are, right?!!!
Going from slave to respectable Black man, to being convinced to call yourself nigger, now nigga if your street cred colors run blue or red, Bloods or Crips of yesterday, who knows today, so dumbed down to follow the white man’s scripts. Controversy?! Prince tried to tell y’all.
Sometimes you’ve got to push the limits, crossing boundaries, challenging everyone, everything, cause one thing’s for sure, living a life keeping your true self quiet is such a bore, so tired, a horror lovers galore & this complacency allows issues to fester painful & oozing like a puss-filled sore.
I’m just sayin what it is I’m conveyin in the slayin it down to the most minute, nuanced fractal as I give you a little digital rectal examining, cause you know, everyone nowadays needs to get anally probed because everyone who’s anyone has GI irritability & needs to get a Colonoscopy. Oh gee! What glee!
What happened to uniting to stand up for what it is in cause worth dying while we ‘Fight for Your Right‘ to PARTY!!?? No, not political, beach, house or Greek, I’m talking lay everything on the line, end of the year bash when you use words as your cash, sprayin billions of trillions of linguistic challenges to the generalized other minds who don’t mind cause they’ve lost theirs to a life lived unkind, unable to find their Wild Child cause now they’re an adult, so gestalt in their perception they’re more important than they actually are. So, I’ll just keep you at a distance as I produce nothing but resistance to your attempted raping of the whore that’s now just another department store to penetrate the sore needing to be filled by the ever elusive more, more, MORE!!!.
Wait, what!!!??? What are you saying again Randy?! Just give me some more brain candy cause I’m a bit confused the way you tickle my Grey Matter with matters that I want so bad to understand but am too afraid to allow your kind of touch to allow my mind to shatter The Wall, my wall, that I’ve built so, so very high & too afraid to tear down the wall, I’m not ready for The Trial. Ok, maybe I’ll pull out just one brick & see what happens.
Silly humans.
We shouldn’t have to fight for anything, nor work for another, just say ‘No!’ I don’t care for what you don’t know & I sure don’t care about you, Industry, in your silly little attempts to infiltrate my brain trying to convince me, I’m insane, I’m not the one repeating the same messages over & over & over again on TV, computer & phone screens, or am I?!?!
Hum, maybe I am trying to tap into the intellectual mind, cutting through the tough outer rind, in another take on the fake. The difference, I don’t expect a different outcome. I know everyone is still stupid, being deaf, blind & dumb, so numb continuing to suck on their thumb & fingering themselves at the same time trying to pick up the crumb from the man thrown as gift to you.
I have no moral Compass, no cultural rhetoric defining me, I don’t need no education or stinking badges, I don’t need religion, nor government, nor industry, or any other kind of brainwashing trickery that tries to make slippery my slope to know myself in this world & what it’s all about slicker than slick how they try to make us sick. I don’t even know who made me, who I come from, which I love cause I’m undefinable, the purest of pure, able to reset & be reborn again & again & again, each & every day, to play the way my heart & mind wants to convey. See, I’m smarter than the average Bear, I only listen to what the Littles have to say, they are our tomorrow, they are our new tomorrow’s way, so to shut them down, would be to kill our future. We need to grow them, not betray & bestow them in our condescending human arrogant way that we always seem to poison the world with our own self-entitled thought rightful inheritance rights & try as we might’s, the only satisfying sounds in life are those of a child’s laughter in delights.
I know who I am, I know what I see, I know what I’ve seen. I choose never to forget & definitely, never forgive, cause to me, if you forgive, you’ll never be free of those unable to control their own ignorance being imposed upon you & it most certainly will be repeated again & again. Those kinds of records not the songs I like to hear, nor lyrics to sing.
For the NWO children of tomorrow, sadly, I’ve got news for you, more often than not, from what I’ve seen in removed parents too wrapped up in themselves to give the time to care about their little ones in that affectionate, kind, tender, loving, being present with them in their moments, well, unfortunately that only produces children of sorrow.
If they don’t get what nature intended & didn’t get what they deserved early on in life, the rest of it will be filled with a heaping pile of emotional shit.
Yep! It most certainly is the parent’s fault, chew on that a little bit you selfish, overly self-indulgent parental units just a hot mess yourself from not getting respect, affection, embraced, touched & loved as a child, & instead of breaking that messed up mold, true to your imprinting you did hold, you became what you hated, doing what you were told, it was only yourself that you sold. Now, it’s your children too.
It seems that now all there is, is their now controlling placating demands. That’s a good little boy, that’s a good little girl, now, shhhhhh! Don’t make a sound. I don’t want to know you’re around, sit, lay, stay, most of all, obey! I care not for what you think you might have to say, now go away, don’t come back another day, just do as I say, don’t pay mind what I do, that’s not a concern for you. Just blindly follow man’s rules & laws, no matter how they come at you, conform, kneel, bow, beg for treats at the feet of the garbed-up clowns playing roles as you kiss the ring, licking the feet of liars giving you condescending pacifiers in a relentless suckling the teats of programed self-defeats.
Oh! What tantalizingly wonderful, tasty little mind treasure trove of treats I so do very much like to eats!
I often thought I’d find that no matter what I tried & still try to convey to help free-sway minds to a better, happier way to see their only known reality, to feel it in a touch & play kind of sensational way. Instead, they’d rather gather together & be their own death & dying slow-burn grave digger, mass consuming everything getting bigger & bigger & bigger. Stupid jigger!
Ha! Bet you thought I was going to say nigger again, didn’t you in my tasty ways my rhymes frees & undefines all that was thought known & understood. Oops! Not! Doesn’t matter, cause I know the best & most sensitive of parts lies just underneath the hood.
It was on purpose as they’re just Words & l love to play with them to convey messages directly in your face sort of way, though too & often more than not, I play through indirectly directly metaphoric roundabout symphonic plays, cause I like my tongue-in-cheek cheekiness, just like my records, spinning these similarly understood messages, just each in their own way, some like myself Brave enough to say it in a direct in your face way unless I’m in the mood to play which is almost every single day, hum. Others prefer to covey their messages in a passive-aggressive hypocritical way for never do their actions equal what they have to say.
Words. It’s a word. They’re just Words. All that matters is how the intent was contrived, the meaning behind the use, not the word itself. Nothing means anything nor matters unless you make it matter.
Subjective perception, a mind detection like no other lover when you know yourself so well, you’re all that matters in a world as Mad as a Hatter.
Whoa! Did you see that, that Pollock is my brain matter that did just spatter all over The Wall.
This is mine. Yours is yours. Theirs is theirs. Nope! Another LIE! What’s mine & yours is always theirs. No matter, these understanding distinctions need to be made, they need to be conveyed, freeing a mind betrayed by Lies Lies Lies, Lies Lies Lies Yeah! What do you believe?!
Luckily, my heart never listens to my mind & if it’s calling, I’m still answering, cause my heart knows what it wants & I love to be called on, I answer though to just make sure that I let me know what it is that I really, really, really want to know because I’ll always tell myself the truth, my truth anyway. Ha!
I wonder & kind of hope that if I even have any readers that they’re just laughing cause they’re intelligent to get my meanings, though I bet if there are any readers who don’t know me, my thoughts, my prose, that there might be so many people who read this are pissed off right now. Well, that’s alright cause I’m All-Right! Ha!
To those who just don’t get what I’m trying to say, just go line up at the mind control trough you fatted cow, continue to bow to your conformity trow of cash & totally miss the intended diss on all that is in their stash of truth they try to hide away from view. I peek behind the curtain, throwing it open for all to see the truth in forest for the reality tree & see Oz the Great and Powerful in all its totality.
All that they’ve allowed, we swallowed hook, line & sinker. All that we play, in games for another’s maniacal gains cause we’re so abundant we’re just silos filled with all kinds of grains so redundant, foods not for us, but sure impact our brains as they race US away down the drains of Industry’s runoff, always sick, always flushing our lives away down toilets & drains zap US of our subliminal brains.
My ears come in pulsating vibrations that create a cranial obliteration of my grey matter sent all in a scatter with the pitter patter of little feet so happy to again meet & greet, you are my world, you are my everything, I depend on you for every little thing so why do you attack me with the you that got the shaft?!!!
Not my fault you missed some school, don’t you know school’s for fools & now all you do is drool like a tool cause you went & now, yes, you’re the biggest tool in the shed, & it’s not the cool kind of Tool, where Maynard shreds my hammer & drums his own into my scone, brick like stone I dethrone the drone clone always on the phone drone, always prone, bend over baby, & I’ll show you the primal burning through my veins as we pulsate & vibrate the true tones illustrating the meaning of love.
No, it’s because you’ve chosen to be an idiotic filled pool, as you Dunce, sitting in the corner on your special idiot stool.
Music touches my ears, touches my heart, touches my soul, music sets me & the world apart right from the start as I watched your lips part, yeah, both pairs, I must say, I like your kind of moisturizer that really keeps you wet in all the right places all day long with so many faces with so many lips, though only a few leave lasting traces of sweet that I love to eat, etched into my cranium cause they the yummy inside me that says, ‘Yeah, I gots to have ’em’.
You might be full of a Cheap Trick, not me, unless the band of course, for they speak to me, back to it, no, not me, no, I’m no Jew, I’m Randy! Did he just say that??!! Yep!!! The Jew submissively saluting still their once oppressor ‘Seig Heil‘ who works for the man to keep US down including his own subservient self & people, happy to put his freedom pew into the stew of the sheep high upon the conformity hypocritical shelf, with sad tears do weep for we sow what we reap as my memories of my Creeping Death that’s so into you & especially your first-born son, so you better paint it red, around your door that is so it’ll pass you by. How droll, man’s written words in an archaic scroll, whose sole purpose was thought control.
I see you, watching deep down into you, growing into your heart you hold dear & so really want to keep near, dear, without fear, dear, that your love might get the Schmeer of love juice all over your face gushing all over the place, pleasuring is such sweet grace & none will ever replace your kind of touch that I crave so fucking you much. My precious!
Yeah, I just went to all those places, some pretty uncomfortable to say the least, though this beast does seem to have some moral graces if you’re able to read between the lines. Though most won’t boast about the fact that I did, I went there, I dared to care about a little bear in native spirit strong, who only cared, wasn’t scared. No fear, no tear, save one for being so happy to give a Shot Through the Heart.
I’m just so happy to be alive & going through all the moments & right now sharing them with the children of tomorrow. The truth must be told so they can choose to conform or stand out, bold!
Children are AMAZING little creatures, so wild, so feral, so true to the source. Are you kidding me?! My life’s wild-child kaleidoscopic tapestry mastery gets to play all day our way, while the ticking clock always caressing our pressing on to running to our own end of childlike ways as we’re taught & told by a certain age that we must engage as directed or else, that we must put our childlike wanderlust away for that of the Adult, worst 5-letter word on the planet, & Industry’s rhetoric, don’t cha know?!
And children are not Kids or kid, or worst of all, kiddo, WTF! A kid was first defined as a baby goat, not to describe or define a child. Children, they’re just littler sentient human beings, a child, a human child, hopefully, still at heart. No such thing as smart anymore, for that’s what we call our phones. Hum!?!
Just another way for the Industrial world to oppress children further, liken them in worldly accepted descriptive to a word in term used & defined as livestock in baby goat, you know a litter, kid, don’t fucking forget it, you don’t matter, you’re born a number, now, tracked for you life’s eternity & we’ll eat you up or spit you out, depends on your flavor & if it’s one we want to savor. Do you hear the absurdity, the obscurity in our own skin told if pleasured is a sin. So, with a wide, wide grin, let’s begin.
As one of the one’s who’ve always been oppressed since amassed societal rule & dictatorships of cultures & religions & governments, children, to continue being subservient have now been reduced to livestock status in ‘kid’. Just another way to reduce everything through their coercive, forced, manipulative word & mind play whilst the heart’s on the platter of scattered brain matter that only mattered to feed greed.
NO!!! Don’t add another Brick to The Wall you’re expected to build so high, Tear Down The Wall!!! Stay true to you my wild child, don’t let life happen to you, you happen to life & run with it any way you want, this is your life, your stunt, go big or go home.
Children, don’t stop dancing, prance your life away & never sway from the dye you cast as a child, run free, run wild, a wild child, able to always say what you mean, no hiding cause all you want is to be seen, noticed, loved & accepted as a free spirit. Yeah, I hear it.
I document the never-ending violence being raged upon us every day, even if mass graves of bodies aren’t lining the streets, cause there’s a coded message in the subliminal twists & marks of the words used to coerce, hide & betray, for you, me, anybody who dares to see differently from the generalized others in boobs staring at their once tubes in TV’s now tied forever by an unseen umbilical to their sold ‘smart’ devices, most today now chose the source in their phone, cause I’m no drone, clone, prone when bowing to the throne. Nope! That’s just not my kind of vibe, not my tribe, not my way of being alive.
So much more to say, for now, I’ll keep those thoughts at bay in a beige, sort of like a light brown like we see if we actually look at the ground. So, this story time over, I hope you liked what I read to you, do you care, did it contain your imprinted beliefs or did it free you from the grasp of man.
When you’re ready, you’ll see, when you see, you’ll know how to steer you clear of the lies to the wild & free.
‘Laugh & laughing, fall apart‘ & I hope you Phish a little child-like in your life to never fit in to their reported life of sin.
Ha! Really, that’s a tale for another time. Just make sure you touch someone in just the right way today, mind, body, spirit or soul.
So…
What did you do today?!
What sin’s in your wallet?!
So, who’s speaking to you?…
Think About It!
Peace & Love, Awaken, until next time, au revoir….
