empty hearts and winter riot hopeless blue
Keys to Survival (in no particular order):
1. Always remain yourself. As malleable as you may be, forget the pop culture drama and just do what you fucking want. Change the medium. Prats.
2. Hat everyone. No, I don't mean hate, i mean hat. It's like hating, but not, which I can see is confusing, but ignore the confusing part and focus on the not likingness of hatting.
3. For fuck sake, never agree to take on responsibility. Freedom does not come from resposibility, it comes from maintaining yourself in a complete state of lack of obligation.
4. Alcohol is like ambrosia, respect it for its tastiness and you'll find that while traversing from a state of sobriety to a state of completely off your tits, you might have actually had a rather delectable experience.
5. Never doubt that going to class drunk is a better idea while drunk then when you're yourself [sober].
6. Trust no one. Even when someone's offering you a favor "out of the kindness of there heart", realise they expect something from you every time they see you. What it is they expect, they cant say, but it's often something you're not willing to offer to them or part with.
7. Friendship is often a one way street where you get dragged along unwillingly. Don't let it happen. Limit your exposure to people to events that are on your own terms. This will allow these "friends" to function as acquaintances allowing you to be more free and to look upon the activities with them as entertainment as opposed to meaningful or weighty relationships.
8. Science is a pack of lies. FIBBER!!! (I had to say it)
9. Fundamentalists of any type do no one any good. Don't marginalise them, just outright kill them. In the long run you and everyone else will be happier.
10. Western culture, while supposedly individualistic, is quite collectivist at its core, often focusing on the General Good. Whoever this guy is, he must be a big jerk, cos the laws passed in his name are often completely ridiculous; so, break them, at least while no ones looking and you can't get caught.
Canvas shoes and canvas bags make for ease of carrying me, packing the satchel and left hand pocket aside with small lint coins good for buying dreams. Through angles the angels sense the pecuniary resistance to hope and lessness that streams outward on human terms, the solitary confinement of soul in skin and flesh and saran wrapped nuance. Fresh out of the package that starch crackle in collar and spring-bound chin forward to the sky, and all the weight of the world works it in. We all tuck into the manna of complimental speeches and fragmented phrases of good will, cheer, we all tuck in the wave of haggard hisses and blown away rotten snipes that hid in our hoods and hands. Silver leaf lined purses and alligator sails dragging away the windward beach from seaside glasses clinking, lip edge scraped with salt and sand. Oh all the wounds blister in the sun bursting with ache for a blue clean slate and white foam wash crashing out the old haunts. The laces tied themselves this time, knowing the loop and swoop by instinct and predilection, and while soles anchored for gravity's defiling, a gradual curve rending to an outlined plan, a suck and swallow of earthy grit plummeting back for an infinite space to fill. Dance steps are hand drawn dioramas of toddlers learning to walk.