Patricide

Dear Dad,

It’s been awhile.

It seems you’ve dragged your self out from the pile,

Of shit,

you laid upon the sidewalk of the world,

your little girl,

will soon grow up and learn about her dad,

the one I never had,

the one that turned his head,

While my soul was torn and dead.

You live buried in your own lies,

Expecting people to close their eyes,

Ignore and forget the shit that you’ve done,

Well I can’t do that and neither can my

GUN

This gun I bought, I fought and fought with feelings in my

HEAD

Do I want you dead? Living room red, chest full of lead, wife on my bed, shit! what have I said, I gotta get a

GRIP

Don’t let my mind slip, gotta flip off this trip but shit,

it’s too late,

your fate is straight to the hate you create,

In Me.

So now it’s time.

It’s not a crime, in my eyes,

to kill something that's not alive,

so prepare to meet the beast I hide,

the one that's slowly grown inside,

My soul was raped my heart has died,

And now it’s time for patricide.

Vote

Voting (a public service announcement)

If there is one thing I could tell every marijuana smoker at the same time, it would be to vote. FACT: A whole shitload of people smoke pot.  Actually, almost everyone I know smokes pot or has no problem with it. I’m sure that you smoke pot. Pretty sure anyway. Unless your here to give me a verbal razzing on how all stoners are dumb and Jesus is our savior. But you shouldn’t vote anyway.

My point is this. Vote. If you are 18 or over, vote. Why the fuck not? Just register and vote, you ignorant fool.

“But dude, one vote doesn’t count.”

Hey if I vote to shove a hockey stick up your ass, would it count? Numbnuts. One vote does count. And if everyone who said the same thing actually voted life would be a much better place. I mean, not that it’s not nice now, but imagine:

A country where marijuana was legal and readily available, and smoking it was a respected social activity. This is issue 1 on my list. The whole fact that marijuana is illegal makes me want to go shoot babies at the White House. 

A country with health insurance for everyone. Maybe I just feel this one more cuz my lung exploded and I was in the hospital for 4 days recovering from near-death. With NO insurance. I will be paying for my ambulance till the day that I die in one. Massive head trauma due to improper use of a 2 pound jar of jalapenos.

A country with free internet. Imagine if the internet were free. It could be. It should be.

A country with legal prostitution. Imagine if you could just go down to 95th and get yourself a whore. Oh wait, you can do that now. Not that I would know.

A country where public urination was legal. Oh wait that would be disgusting. It would be fun for awhile though heh heh heh.

A country where everyone’s hypothalamus was required at birth to be remotely interconnected into a vast abysmal of boundless supercomputers that could be monitored for everything from emotions to medical needs, thus increasing the human life span by 20, even 30 years. Oh wait, that would only happen if I was president.

What I’m trying to say is, if everyone voted that could, the world would be a better place. Or maybe not. What the hell do I know? I know that you should vote. Why not?

“Dude, I don’t have time to vote.”

Shut up. You’re telling me that you don’t have 30 minutes, (sometimes longer when you get some dumb old bitch that talks to the voting booth guy about the good ole’ days when the young whippersnappers had discipline and her uterus was still moist,) out of a Tuesday morning, noon, or night to go push 15 buttons and make a difference? Well if you don’t, I pity you and your insane schedule Mr. Bigfatliarpileofshit. In fact, if you have read up to here than you have enough time. Go vote.

“Dude, I’m a member of a venomous mafia crime family, and voting would alert the FBI of my location and I would be beat down and get poked in my pooter for the rest of my days as the bitch of a convicted murdering ex-running back for the Cleveland Browns who enjoys cold steel things and the congress of the cow position from the Kama Sutra.”

Hmm. I wouldn’t vote if I were you. Unless you want to get more in touch with the other side of your sexuality. But unless you have a decent excuse like that, then for the love of Fruity Pebbles, VOTE!!!!!!!

Invisible

I try and try to read your feelings through your piercing eyes.

I know that I’m just one among a dozen other guys,

That yearn for your affections, I wish that I could find,

A way to know just what you're feeling, a way to read your mind.

I think perhaps you're frightened, that I will break your heart.

Curious about my true intentions from the very start.

My past I am not proud of, I’ve made some bad decisions,

Most of my relationships resembling train collisions.

You are so unique and different, from all the other girls,

The way your smile lights up the room, your eyes like shining pearls.

Standing out wherever you go,

Carrying with you a heavenly glow.

I could talk to you about nothing, for hours and hours on end,

I wish so bad that you could be more than just a friend.

How can I get you to realize,

that I’m not like the other guys?

How the hell can I get you to see,

that I want you to be with me?

Again and again I give you signs,

Trying not to cross the lines.

When I’m with you it’s hard to hold back my affections,

Your heart is a wonderful place, all I need is the directions.

I hope one day I find the path, but I’ll have to wait and see,

If there is any chance your heart is saving a seat for me.

I don't do drugs to have fun

I don't do drugs to have fun, I do them to expand my conscious self, my spiritual self, and my mind in general. I smoke marijuana to help open the right side of my brain to channel new-found creativity. I smoke marijuana to help channel my mind/muscle connection when I'm working out. And yes, I smoke it to have fun, too, but fun comes in many forms, with or without it. I eat shrooms to discover a whole new side of reality I never knew existed. Shrooms open the doors of the mind, allowing the brain to think differently and see things it has never seen. I'm not trying to glamourize drugs... I'm just saying I probably got another 70 years in this strange car called life, so why not open the fuckin windows?

Update

High there! As of this moment it is May 11^th, 2000.. I find myself here stoned, looking at my computer screen in a dark room, writing to people I will probably never meet or even talk to. This has become a very familiar situation. Why do I do this? Why do I write these little ditties? I dunno. Maybe I like the feedback from you guys...which is usually surprisingly positive. Maybe it’s good to release all these thoughts in my head. Who knows. Either way, your here reading it and that’s all that matters.

Not much has happened to me since I last wrote to you. I turned 18 so I am now legally an adult. Hurray. That’s about it. Hmm what’s happened in the news? Oh that little cuban kid. Ha.Couldn’t turn on a T.V. without seeing somethin about the little Speedy Gonzalez kid. I must say that I personally did not give a shit if the kid stayed here or went to Cuba, Russia, or fuckin Guam. I mean seriously..there are thousands of kids torn away from their families every day and the media has to concentrate on this one case. I bet if he wasn’t such a cute little bastard nobody would care. Bah who cares. Enough about that.

Well...

Hi. My name’s Braxton. Today is January 25^th, 2000. I never thought I’d say that, because I thought I would be dead. The year 2000 hit, and not a goddamn thing happened. Well something happened to me. The modem on my computer decided to stop working. I didn’t know that I thought it was something else. So I kept fuckin with my computer until I eventually did irreversible damage. It wouldn’t even start up windows. So my stupid ass formats my hard drive, without backing up anything. Stories, poems, screenplays, everything I ever wrote gone forever. Fuckin moron I am. But anyway, here I am starting anew. I think I’m a different person now, from when I wrote a lot of that shit. Well here I sit, it’s 6 in the mornin. No I just didn’t wake up. I have the most fucked up sleep schedule known to man. I get up, don’t know what day it is, if it’s am or pm, where my pants are, who the girl next to me is, why I’m covered in peanut butter, etc.