Self Portrait

Ive been frantic as of late,
Ive been a mad dog trapped in a corner so often as of late.

Jumping out of my own skin sometimes, but more often than that is the constant questioning.

The real problem with society, in all senses, is that we are sentient, alive, and aware.

-The confusing part is how our complicated feelings and conscious existence truly dilutes the natural instincts we have. 

When I think instinct? I think sex..Or lust..or even wanderlust..
"Seasons change, mad things rearrange, but it all stays the same."
Undeniable truth SON.

Its the 17th (1 plus 7 equals 8) and I will never understand.

-Ive been drawing an awful lot, been writing poems for a chapbook.
-The world aint ready for anything, Im not stupid enough to object unless ive got an equalizer.

-Ive got a crush on a beautiful girl I follow via Instagram.
-I fear the deepness of a shallow pool more than anything though,
-Im sure there is an active train station replacing my heart right now.
I am all ages ive ever been, and counting.

-Taking the bus, begging spring to make its way into my bedroom sooner.

-Trying to find a mate, but failing.

My life is really in shambles, and i'm on the fence, cant figure out what path to take.

FUCK IT. LIFE IS IN FACT TOO SHORT FOR THE BULLSHIT.
Swag is fucking stupid.
"The higher the monkey climbs, the higher you can see up his ass."

You couldn't pay me enough to make me believe im something outside the realm of "animal"

Here is a short poem:

The sun here is hot, 

Fish scales flake off,

When the blade catches it,

My grandmother tweaks her hand like a serpent with each stroke.

The blades sharp teeth smile at me,

that pools in its steel lips,

Watch the kids dance their way into new torn flesh,

The dust unraveling under their heels,

In the hot sun we are baked, and seasoned with spices,

Thick spices coat her hands and the fish,

The fish is an odd serpent,

Flailing its back on the fire,

Calling the river we call eyes to the shoreline,

If I could take you there,

I'd want you to meet her,

Drink a gallon of smoke,

and watch each divot mock the electric of spine.

I am doing good, I hope you are also.
Purpose is an indefinite idea, an abstract, alot like time.

Peace and Love, Villain.