dekades, art, ocd, bluejays, acdc, kurt Cobain, mgmt, and a car crash... and then it was okay, alright

https://soundcloud.com/ninamarinn/electric-feel-cover
https://soundcloud.com/t-e-l-e-p-a-t-h/lovers-gaze
https://soundcloud.com/teamsesh/sets/bones-failure
https://soundcloud.com/misogi/sets/death-metal

1 horizon, her eyes, and beauty
2 nostalgic minds
3 skater souls
4 lover's hearts
5 days a week
6 birds sitting in a palm tree

Great Cliché

One could say a cliché is a true experience. When things are good, not necessarily pure but rightfully true and dear, why break the mold that we fit so nicely into. Split an atom in two, just like a heartbreak. A heart aching, split in two, a perfect view for a couple that has found their other half, the break leads to a heart that binds with the tide, depression which at once was on the rise but now subsides as the two, hand in hand, ride into the sunset on a steel horse day and night, chrome plated armor to shield the shade of the trees and sting of the bees, leaving room to breathe for the cool rush of the breeze. The rush of adrenaline hits fast at the start, and then steeps leaving the perfect two at ease with a nice view from the tips of the trees, the very accented ascent of the peak. With this view comes perspective and clarity, good vibrations and great clichés, and next comes rolling together in the city on subways, waiting in train stations, and eating nice entrees like every day. The creek, the clouds, the roads, the bends, the smoke and benz, steers the two and two's friends to wherever the road might twist and turn, with the rubber fully burnt, but not exhausted. Satisfied with the enchantments of another days idleness or another days work, the two keep on moving down the line, keep grinding a day at a time, one cute girl, one nice guy, a boy at heart without the arrogance or pride, not afraid of a little spotlight, making love at twilight, waking up only when the timing is right, powder twinkling on their windshield as they drive, river spinning, stars collide, head on straight, ecstasy at moon's sight, a delight for sore eyes. The two of them, adventuring with the best of them, done with a journey, but forever glued together because of crossed paths, formed by the mirror images of lines formed from the cracked glass of broken hearts long ago.

Nevermind, Probably: An Intro to something Better

In memory of the dearly beloved cats and dogs that passed away before the gods at heaven's gate, may there be a puppy and kitty paradise for you somewhere in the great existential realm of the universe.

I'm a grown up kid, pretending to smoke cigarettes while sitting on Saturn, imagining time as a concept really, finding out nothing at all and everything so tall lies deep within the gut of your own roots... finding out things, and not understanding lots of things. Here is a book on concepts, conceptual abstractism.

Randomized Mathematical Equations and Futile Predictions: An Introduction

List of ideas to work off of: 

1. cigarettes make you sick, alcohol too, coffee too

2. what happens when you get addicted to substance

3. they no longer make you sick, probably

4. why is this?

Probably and i say probably here, because, this is just my own opinion, an opinion piece on peace, and nothing more. It's probably because people's bodies adjust to new chemicals, but can we adjust back to being completely sober, high on life, high on the music that floats in the air... if you say no, why not, well because life is more fun with substance than without... probably. Sitting smoking a cigarette while listening to music is more tangibly worthwhile. Who cares if I die ten years earlier, the gods? hell no, or does hell know? heaven only knows when my time to leave is, substance will not determine that. I will drink water, but I will smoke cigarettes until my lungs collapse. Why is this? How do you defeat something you have already relented so much time too. I study patterns behind things and, at the rate I'm going at now, I will die at approximately 54, when the world has all but ended, has been all but won, maybe it lost. But that's okay. Losing is okay, and I am okay with dying young, twice the age of Cobain. 27 + 27 = 54 (add Cobain's age) that's 81, a good number. AD1. After death, we won, we one, or one more great never-ending everlasting year? Or maybe I’ll die at 45… Just give me a full next 22 to 31 years. 13 backwards, better that way, 2nd puberty at the age of death, 31 years post What's my age again, oh yeah 23. Maybe some of the words I write here today will predict things in the future, maybe I will publish another book after The Sanctity of Art, a Radical Departure from the Times, which I dedicated to my sister, written by my pseudonym Drew Stone, and can be found on Amazon. There will be more books. I know that for sure. I am a struggling artist, not truly struggling to find anything, just dying from boredom in observing the ways in which the world seeks to fill itself up with things that are all fluff, and no substance. So I will avoid this, I will do the substances I like so much, so long as I take care of what I need to in the time being, which is taking care of my girlfriend, who currently has a cat, so taking care of the cat, taking care of school, of my duties as a son. But only as much as I have to. And I will not worry about where it ends up. I will read and write more. Why do I think I will die at 54 you ask? Is there poetry of death in that year for me, and why do I think the world might end that year, if all these prophecies in music are saying anything, starting with wanting to go back to 1985, then feeling like I'm always backwards, and then moving forwards to Nirvana, Sublime, and Third Eye Blind, and so on. Maybe because in the year 2048, I will be 54. The reverse of 54 is 4/5 my mom's birthday. Colt 45 is the song I listened to when I got the most high I have ever been. And 2047 was the year Kapital Steez, I mean Capital Steez, believed everyone would be reborn and come back to life again. I assume 2048 will be my year to go, my birthday being 3/24 and 2048 is separated out to me as 2 0 4 5+3, all my favorite numbers or 8 could be 33 joined together the same as 22 is a heart when joined inversely together, a never ending heart, the year I was supposed to graduate at. Can I graduate? Not yet, there's still some time to go. I am done talking about numbers, words, or anything else. This has to be just pure abstract, stream of consciousness thought, no words, even though words must be written here and numbers written at times to give dates, all just as place holders to convey the abstractness of thought, to make thought tangible. Nevermind, Probably is just an introduction to Something Good, which happens to be one of my favorite songs by one of my favorite bands, Alt-J. What can you expect in this book? Lots of thoughts, music references, pop culture references, fiction, non fiction, stream of consciousness, and that about does it.

Doses and Mimosas: Chapter One

Part 1

Wake up the morning, like what up, I got a big plate of lox bagels if anyone wants one. I hate how song lyrics are always randomly placing ego ahead of art. Remember, if there is nothing good to say, do not say it, which often true in music, unless you're like Youth Lagoon, that dude always has had good shit to say I feel. Not that I dislike all music, I actually love all music. Every song has a small or big place in my heart, but nonetheless a place. Mumble rap even got me dancing like hell all over this fucking floor. Who cares if you can't hear what they say a quarter of the time, that music is a dime piece, uhh, gets me pumped just thinking about it. Probably I like it so much because I can't make out the words, it just matters that it got that Lil Uzi, Lil Yachty flow. Bitches be bitches be bitches, only in songs, not in real life. In real life, girls are girls and boys are boys, and everyone just wants to live a life of style, ease, good taste, and grace. Money helps too, but that shit burns bridges. Like in Joey Badass' song Paper Trails, "money is root of all evil, but money is the root of all people", so I'd rather smoke tree, burn bad bridges, form good new ones, than use money on something I envy. Actually who cares. Spend it, if you want. But if you want to let go of all that guilt, save it. Even if you don't got it, time will tell, it will come, just cherish that dollar, and don't be greedy about it either though. Just Know the real value. Money does not make the world go around, but it allows you to have a voice. Work hard, play hard. So they say. Work smart, play smart. That's what they don't tell you, unless you work some 8 hour job somewhere. I have worked hard in the past, I just don't know if I work hard or smart right now. And I spend my money far too fast, before I get it to be honest. Credit is getting worse by the day. I think my only advice towards money and spending, is don't take it too seriously or at face value right but count your blessings each day and take it slow. Cherish that which you already have. That ain't even really about money, that's about everything. What do you like to do. Do it with passion, not lust. Love and hate do not have to be part of it. Just like things around you because it's all we got. Maybe these are new commandments I made by myself, since my religion has been kind of been rearranged and tossed out in lieu of spiritualism and what reality presents, but in honor of old Islam, Christian and Catholic, Jewish, and Buddhist teachings, maybe we all have enough to live by without stealing or wanting. Maybe we can all live, rather than die, for what we like. Don't take the teachings too seriously, but be a good person, whatever that means. Not to you, but to the 7 nations as a whole. Every person is part of the largest army, called Earth. Even though I believe we were all meant to live happily ever after in Space.

Basically, take things lightly and you can listen to Suicide Squad or watch the blockbuster movies, just don't actually commit suicide, you're not as lamely cool as Kurt Cobain. He was like Jesus, he is to me. Something good will come in the future. Just smoke a cigarette, blaze it, or whatever you enjoy doing, sit back and relax, read on or close the book, and enjoy the only life on Earth you'll ever get. I do believe there can be lives after this one, but don't stop the ride too soon, it could be fun, just wait. And if you're in a bad spot, keep your head up, listen, love, and learn, and take it slow. Enjoy the awful, the good will only be that much better for you.

DAMN this my jam

<3

Life is overrated, but...

some things are pure magic

some things are pure cosmic gold

some stories are better left untold

some stories just unfold

Merry go round

Wild horses

been on repeat

And the Mary's been

going around

I'm tired of wishing

Mary didn't have

to sleep around

Cats be waiting

For dogs to get out

Of the pound

What's up dawg



<3 DJ

Realllly feeling this song lately