Little drops of blood still form and run down my face from the corner of my mouth as I speak. Like a waterfall laced red chasing my white shirt. As if the contrasting colours make for a rare story of a soldier spitting fire into the flames and coming out second best.


My inprint on the universe is what I care about. That’s why I write like I do. I want to expand what we know. I want to write down my thoughts and throw them at a wall.

I want them to last because there are 

Locked in a room I got some time to kill I know it’s real. Voices in my head I’m bouncing backwards like that dream you killed. I had real dreams man. Taken from reality. Tempting me to write these words and deal with what’s inside of me. Damn straight I’m making plans. Got to find the other side. Send me back my people and I’ll climb back through and turn the tide. That’s real shit. Taken from the battle that’s inside of me. If it’s not my fault I shouldn’t suffer from your time in me. Call it cheap I’ll call it what the fuck I think it’s gonna be. So talk to me. I’ll tell everything that is inside of me. That dark black, trust. The kind you wish you never see. Taken from the mean streets. To fight for every century. We’re knees deep. Coming out from darkness like it isn’t there. Reaching for your bible like a preacher who just doesn’t care. Make you stare. Longs shots coming from the back of me. Even if you catch me imma be there til you fucking see.

I’m ten years deep and all I know is imma make it. Got a backpack full of fireworks and Imma strip you naked god forsaken got to find the strength to walk out of the darkness. When I talk to god he tells me not to prey on easy targets so I walk away. Find another way to say I hate it. All I want is something better for my future so I made it. As I lay it on a track so every time you fuckers play it you get shivers down your spine like I just made you hit the pavement. I’mma claim it like a lawyer when hes pointing to the stand. I didnt do it but these accusations make me who i am. I’ll grab my chance, i got a plan I’ll never run when i can stand and fight the gods that tried to kill me with their desperate faded glance. If you hit me imma smile. If you trip me imma fly. If you give me half a chance ill fucking rip open the sky. I’m like a angel with two broken wings I’m barely getting by. But if i paint the walls with blood you just might find the reasons why.

NWK. Thats new world kid they got that new world order so i step up on this bitch. Do a backflip, tripping spitting fucking fire from the flames. When I rip it you’re gonna feel it like a fucking hurricane. I make it rain like the perfect storm a letter in the mail. When you read it can’t believe the things I’m saying fairy tails add some color and some dope beats ill tear apart your broken heart I need to make a statement so i climb up high and fall down fast. A comet on my way to earth so when I push the button it’s like fireworks above your head you know the end is coming. I’m a lover not a fighter but my hands are broken knuckles koz I hit the truth so hard it’s like I’m hitting on your cousin or your best friend asking what I see inside your eyes but when you whisper in my ear it’s like your clothes are no disguise so take your time I got a billion years to try and turn the tide because this life is just the first so I will try to take my time. ill send shivers down your spine i went to church i drank the wine and then he whispered in my ear he said write down my favourite line about forever so eventually it starts to resinate how all your hate turns into killers in my head so let us pray

I can build Utopia. 

Based on scientific principals of objective understanding I could take the world and cause a centralist movement. 

You look at your government and you see everybody choosing to be left or right. But everyone is ignoring the dead centre. 

Objective truth is everything.

You can build a world off that where EVERYONE is happy.

So why don’t we?

We live in a society and world that relies/preys on the formulation of wealth and power which creates control. To allow a controlling excessive force to manipulate the landscape. 

To design the future.

The world doesn’t have to be such a fucked up place. We can build it.

Just put the right people in charge.

I see you in every attempt at contact from the outside world. I trust no one. Waiting constantly for you to reach out so I can turn my back on it. That’s strange I know. But so is my life. I’m writing letters to people with no name and no face while pretty girls analyse the fact that I was so fucking nice when we were sipping water at the fountain. The youth of today should be concerned. I’m the first of many making short work of hell systems. Turning blank faces to sheep with grins so wide they have fishhooks in their upper lip. As I take on the universe and every single thing in it.

The Theory And The Girl

Let me tell you a story. My very own corner store pulp fiction.

It started with an acid tab laced with graffiti and hell screams from abandoned hospitals. Or maybe it started with an epiphany about reality. Or maybe a girl. 

I’m not sure. 

But when it kicked off my world began to change. I moved down the street from the hospital. I created a new theory about reality. And the girl started appearing everywhere.

I forgot about the hospital and focused on the other two. The theory and the girl. In no particular order. 

I started trying to change the world and make impossible things happen.

And they did…

Because let me assure you. Your mind affects your reality and the physical world can be manipulated. As over a dozen random meetings with said girl began to attest to.

But this wasn’t enough. I wanted to make impossible things happen. I became aware of something few people ever become exposed to and I was going to exploit it, establish and prove it.

The girl became a standing ovation of what can be accomplished when two minds crash together at full speed. And I was convinced there was hidden meaning there that I would never understand.

And I still believe that as I write this over 9 years later. As I slowly count to ten.

Even though it all came crashing down.

..Now I could tell you all the parts to this story. 

The crowd that came to my doorstep but didn’t grant me an audience. 

How they broke into my house while I slept and cut me into little pieces. 

How I was treated as though I was guilty of a crime. And forced into a world of the worst kind.

As I filled my pen with blood from the scene. And made a massive mess of things as the sky literally fell.

How this small little army town became my very own war. Which later became a world war.

I could tell you about how the founder of MySpace knows my name personally. And how we had the briefest conversation about freedom that still stings today.

While west coast bands sing songs about sitting under the Hollywood sign chanting blasphemy about new Americana. And 21 Pilots explain all this shit to you while you aren’t listening.

While Silicon Valley build new ways of living the dream.

I could tell you how there was a voice in my head that arrived at the very worst possible time with pinpoint precision. As they took the most important part of me forever.

I could tell you all kinds of things.

But you would never believe me because you haven’t lived it. 

Even those that wake up to the sound of my name at 4am after the craziest dream would likely just shake their heads and carry on.

Because it’s something rare and strange as hell.

I’m the deep deep dangerous depths of detail and something else lives here with me. As I read another physics book and write on the walls.

I don’t know how the story ends but fate sent that girl back again in front of a packed stadium not too long ago. Just as I knew it would. 

Only this time it was for her. 

And it was the last time.

As I pour another drink and tip my hat to fate and design. As I gave up trying to change it after they took my house, my head, my life.

This world has enough on its plate without me trying to distort the fragments and fabric of interdimensional time and space.

Just sit back and enjoy the ride in perfect wonder as the perfectly timed orchestration plays out.

And I write my incredibly well rounded crazy down for the ones that come later.

Because we all want to be understood. 

I just skip the parts where you try and go straight to the secret scrolls of 2197.

Just say you love me and I’ll apologise for every time I made you sit through one of my crazy rants.

From the first to the last.

I knew a girl who’s hair was so blonde it was like a pure platinum piece of forever. Or at least a perfect mirage in the prettiest of deserts. I could sometimes tell the difference.

Her eyes were so brown they matched.. And you could actually make out the knowing. It was like a reckoning every time you met them. And I reckon she knew better than I did. Like it wasn’t even new.

If I had 50,000,000,000 lives before this universe stopped expanding and started retracting to start phase two at half way into the bang of the next, I’d take a moment to ACTUALLY freeze time and wonder how a simple silver ribbon could sit so perfectly while the sky was falling. And I’d try to make that moment last at least as long. 

And I know it’s only my sky. Yours is yours forever.

Sometimes I speak too clearly and sometimes I say to much.. So here’s a little less of a lot more..

Let’s assume it doesn’t change like the phrase ‘three days grace’. Just give me the tower, don’t leave me there. I’m not sure I could fall hard enough to find a gateway. But I concur.. Err err.. Like adjusting the volume of a murmur. Only louder is faster and faster is over. Errrr we there yet?

Charlie in November in Quebec with Romeo. That’s how I remember it. ..But don’t look down in disappointment.. Because I know so much more than I actually say.

Aloha! God you look fun.. ! 😍 Im fucking serious…. You look fun as fuck. And I’m not sure if I prefer purpose or if there is one.. But you look awesome and this ride is real crazy. I’d rather do it with you. I’d trace your outline perfectly. 

Maybe we can all find somewhere to escape the rat race in the end. So kiss the sun and chase it I guess.

Someone shoot me out of a volcano into a pyramid head first so fast that I can’t see the black make red or the red turn blue. Because I’ve got so much red, Snow White’s looking at me like I need a hospital or a new mic. Maybe just a new phone.

I don’t know I just keep on swinging and the ground doesn’t actually look that awesome from here. I should probably write this down on paper like an old world retreat. I definitely can’t compete with the universe. I’m too old school. And I’ll probably never rap. I write.

And I’m so smart I know that even though I only wrote this because I found an old red notebook from Virgin with little black ink saying ‘Our world inside out’, and the paper seemed too thin, there’s probably all kinds of reasons you think I wrote it. Or what each line means. While I sit in my house drinking rum wondering how words work.

But I know everything’s flipped. So I just won’t think too much about it while you all definitely should…

I could go on forever.