Aging Vagrant

Scattershot bravado is what you’re perfume smells of. It lingers in the air as we wait with bathed breathe for a sign of life. A sign of success from you is but an inkling of what we expect. You roamed those halls and you told those stories; you roared and you howled and then you died quietly.

That’s what you do right? Flail around telling a story that no one cares for any more as time has passed and success is a much different thing now. They care not for you’re tales now. They eek and awe at the presence of the forgotten one. Valiant days are just that…days passed. Fight for the future or die an afterthought.



Too High to Riot

Too high to concentrate. I suppose it never saved me, hell it never stopped me either. Etched in my own memories are Forlorn thoughts brought upon by a new world. She’s different…their different. Ill touch this and lose all thought for the previously conceived importance of a four year journey.

Truth is I needed that. I needed that stare; that unequivocal feeling of the unknown that loomed deep in her eyes. I was and I am a product of other peoples motives. Too high to Riot.


Dreams From The Outskirts- Ch 2

Darkness and rain raided her view as the journeys trenches dug her deep into the planets grasp. The road to the city was not paved well, further cementing the journeys difficulty.

Broken light posts that thudded and swayed back and forth where all that kept even a shred of their essence on the dark street that seemed to live on it’s own accord.  A street left hollowed by ravenous and near ominous figures that had yet to show face was the norm for the deluged streets.

Just as soon as she’d come accustomed to the darkness that the pathway offered a shriek in the night echoed valiantly. The shriek was freakish and different. “Another one enters our darkness, another hoping for the light that looms in the distance. She shall be swallowed.”

As our hero or fool looked on in awe. Her heart began to pump at a rapid pace. Then she just laughed. She let out a mad laugh that echoed almost as cryptically as the unknown voice before her.

“This ones different”

“Yes, I agree, she hopes for light to destroy her taint…her dark.”

Travel Drive


Every Days a moment of clarity; no everyday is an opportunity to discover. The car probably never moves; this man is probably the pied piper of all our earthly ambitions. The Travel Drive sinks its teeth into our data and captures its essence. I don’t know where he’s gone, but I hope it’s somewhere. Though wouldn’t it be incredible if he takes from those more well versed in the art of travel and plasters their archival like pictures on his stagnant vehicle and revels in onlooker curiosity?

Which ever end of the spectrum he finds himself on I can guarantee it’s an interesting one. Okay maybe I can’t, but who cares it’s good to think in away that gives off wonderment sometimes. I mean this practically gets me through the train ride and monotonous calls and the feelings of Kurt cobaining. What am I doing this isn’t about Maurice; this…

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Dreams From The Outskirts- Ch 1

Cloth hangs from wires, rickety stairs clank in a manner that’s more common than not. The harrowing lights from the tainted cityscape looms in the distance.

Melrose is brave and adventurous. She sees the world through a view not unlike a kaleidoscope. A cracked and distorted view that allows her to judge everything at its own specific pace. The city is both her enemy and her greatest need. Every day she inches closer to it. They warn her of it’s taint and filth; of the pain that it could cause her. They speak not of the city itself, but more the journey there.

She cares not for warnings, more so she needs this. Her taste for something new is unabated by whats behind her as that’s not how things work. As such her journey begins.

“Oh what a grand adventure awaits me!”

My Last Pity Party

Maurice needs peace. He needs a way out. Everything is so different now. See now that the freedom is potent, the feeling of nothingness has increased.

Well see I don’t really want to say that, more the feeling of time has become a more known entity. Twenty four years and there’s yet to be millions, mutual love, grand travels or acknowledgement beyond belief. You see I need that because I’m worth as much (we all are).

What there has been is monumental moments of grief and pain. Drowning in the unknown is more or less a bi-weekly routine that has become so entrenched into my psyche that it’s less scary than it should be. There’s been mild success that’s tickled my fancy for minutes at a time. Feelings of real love that wasn’t evoked in both directions. As well moments of monetary rise has hastened my enthusiasm at times.

This rut isn’t temporary, more or less it will become who I am if I don’t learn to evolve past the negatives and learn to stop leaching off life’s daily ups and downs. Maurice take control of it all. Become what you wanted to be as the success stories you see everyday are yours as well. There’s nothing more disappointing than reaching the end and realizing you could have been so much more. I don’t ever want to be content and I don’t ever need to be without my ambition.

*This Is My Last Pity Party*

You Ever Been Truly Free?

Im investigating me. I fail to truly understand why I get stuck in the tundra. The palisade that I cannot escape is of my own creation. Slumped over bodies have given more enthusiasm for opportunity. I once gave my all and succeeded…I no longer know how to do that confidently. Everything’s so much more complicated now. Love, success, happiness and contentment are at an all time high in my arena.

How high do these emotions flourish. Theres this moment where everything fades to black and im calm and enraged all at the same time. It’s a feeling that I love, but can only indulge in for a tenth of a second. I need to scream like I did on the way to work in that parking lot.

You ever been truly free?