do you wanna steal a xerox machine or gallons of india ink
and bomb the KFC with ziploc bags full of red paint?
the powers out and I don’t think it’s gonna come back on
soon / what if the rain never stopped and everybody died?
you know the cities fucked up when the cops have
cowboy hats / they don’t think there's anyone to love
sure as shit
I’m sure as shit
now I’m running
on a wheel in a dream
like a hamster in a tube
with a hunger for pellets
everybody take the to crystalize
into the forms of people I despise
you can build a tiny scene with tiny lies
hey welcome back to toon town
in the grocery store
in the coffee shop
in the street in the stairwell
in the line
ex girlfriends ex boy friends
or just ex friends in general
populate the movie set
you don’t know how to exit
when the camera starts to roll
you’ll have a cue
looks of dire hatred
like its something you’d be doing
if they were as terrible as you
so I’m smoking into ashes that keep landing in my lap
and theres a radiator burning but my bed is frozen cold
but this ain’t shit to the trauma that has taken my
psychology in hostage / the religion of debt
how do you trim the fat
when theres only a skeleton
protruding inedible plastic
an AK 47 is available for purchase
for the price of a cellular phone
i can’t getta grip well play just the tip
till you’re fucked and we gotta buy plan B
Im the kinda guy who wears the demon on my smile
but most wait around for halloween
drunk and throwing furniture cause its not worth a shit
and i would break my own stare into nothing but a tunnel
in my vision i would tear the curtain down with all my weight
as I’d be falling to expose the megalith as nothing more
than a piece of architecture looking terribly important
but in truth its hollow and fragile
i drive out to the mall and I feel like I’m getting squeezed
depression like a vice grip hidden in the wind
the never-ending stretch of empty parking lots and metal
the never ending feeling like I’m always coming down
the never ending cycle where I’m trapped in cincinnati
with the same empty feeling cycling around
yes fuck yes i can feel it in my chest
and I’m excited for the children
look at the screens glowing
showing me how to be sexy
erase any notion that I care about anything
everything in passing as extensions of the bank account
look into my eyeballs I’m gone
wind it up set the trap
give that cellulite ass a slap
driving to the boonies
occupying santas lap
its all a sequel to a series thats like 40 years old
the plot is like
life is hard so you have to take revenge
life is hard but you fall in love in the end
life is hard and it never gets better
life is hard but it won’t always be
dude! its the freshest graphics everything is CGI
even their gesticulation / you can watch it all in 4
dimensions on a panel cause hypnosis makes a
pattern of costumer based behavior
remember when the diorama made you feel despair
reach out and get back a thousand yard stare
insert your money in the feeder slot to get a token
so you can play more games
so you can play more games
schizophrenic govt. clerks in the white light
tight in my throat
hit the metal detector
enter the paradigm paper push sector
where nectar tastes like soap
jimmy dean, jimmy swill
i gut to kill
hell in seriquill
still grilled to the steel mill
poisoning the motherfucking air
coppa feel
home alone maculy caulken
mac and cheese microwave
rave type chicks on E
glow paint lifestyles of the rich and aimless
take this bias in the slightest rightcheous manner
scanner darkly
keanu reeves memes
and vintage barbies
KISS paraphanalia
paleolithic unveiling that I’m an idiot
fuck it
it is what it is
do I even know you anymore once you’ve been reduced
to a newsticker / cycling thru fragments of what you’re
cooking or how far you’ve jogged and avatar of your new dog
occupying pixels in rgb we’ve become a novelty
commodified for practical purposes
the dissolving individual thru desire of residual
immortal enough for most
but is it built out of fear of death
or just the frequency of mainstream influence
out of touch with what it really means to live
sitting still and getting more
an ever flowing so much more
than we’d ever even think to give
in the first world my pain is not hunger its purpose
the lack of hunger make my convenience feel worthless
in the first world my rebellion is just to be human
instead of that mechanical, only function running thru them
surrounded in light extended to the forest canopy
fluorescence weighs my prescence into a state of atrophy
the horizon everchanging hypothetical arranging
like mosaic like a prism i reflect
i find myself in vandalism
i find my self in self respect
i find myself in vagrancy
i find myself in derelect
at one point in time to do something meant utilizing
human potential / to be respected to be received was to
excel in ones craft but I feel like my world only has to be
liked by enough people as to generate advertising revenue
sociologically fascinating yet sociopathically resonating
i sometimes have no idea what it is i even do
all the people that i love are fucking crazy / yeah me too
so when i read the missed connections
i’m hoping to find a like minded individual
so what if its a cold world i like it kind of dark
pictures hidden in the bramble it lookin stark
like you never seen a mahfucka like me to the T
but to some degree whats me to everybody /
a face with sounds coming out of a mouth
some like hot showers some people shoot pup
some people dog like emotional and hungry
perpetually fronting out of a state of wanting
hell yeah dude but punk rock died
died along time ago
but you’re still alive
rocking that pelt
rocking that look
but i got the feeling
you just don’t
its all about change
but some just won’t
its kinda like a snake
like it has to molt or whatever it is that snakes do
always shedding that skin to get a new
its not a thing that you buy
but a thing that you do
don’t be a mix tape don’t be a mix tape don’t be a mix tape
don’t be a mix tape don’t be a mix tape don’t be a mix tape
the same the same the same the same the same the same
my design my nature
this is why i look this
sound that
make those
have their
attention deficit lack there of
what i was who i loved
where i am whatever
thats that I’m heart asthma plasma pack
anxiety attack forever
my own reflection self obsession
aggression a lessening makeup
that gave way to patience
i no longer want i just use information
a compost pile made of data in the form of a symbol
heavy as the ocean
tiny as a thimble
as I concentrate my energy
into kinetic beams of rubber in the jungle
rain is falling every minute of the night
nightmarishly I’ll purse my eyeballs shut and tryta sleep
as I’m tumbling in free fall to the shading of my mind
i couldn’t try to comprehend the distance id be falling
but id say motherfucker its rough
mass people that i know say they wanna die
dejected and collected to the data mine shaft canary
smoking gun down eradiated skeleton i broke the urn
dust cloud my asthma choke dada smoke butter melt
blackfax the operator voice to control what are we here for
here to there bears no difference I’m live action
spill guts to midi floppy
call me hard copy
nobody takes a bottle of migraine tablets to die
they say help
nobody gets a peak
of the deck they get dealt
its too deep you’re too close its too dark i’m too gross
i sing with my demon i cum into the ghost
i give life to the death of my trust in this form
from some negative rip then this gotta get born
under sattelite sunset google earth phantom
shit tangled in the briar patch
but man planted em
see that dude is on bath salt fever tripping to the death
journey to the end of the night i rep sleep dep
give me all the money like a crash test dummy
i be running to the beat of a highway
nightshade petal to the low heavy metal
settle down in the vacancy
middle of the night we’re pacing
theres too much government gray matter
that needs defacing
i’m replacing the blank with my name
you think its a fucking game
well you’re right it is
and the game is i don’t care
this is it
fuck it
it is what it is

Lil Betch :

something about this parking lot makes me feel sick
staring at mcdonalds alone in the midwest
now i’m a grown ass man and I’m still in the pit
ventilated grab the cash machine
like a chamber of the paper shit that
fucks my mind up
fuckin’ my life up
once i do it i did it and i’m doing something different
cause nothing is never enough
fuck sleep
i like the purple rings on my eyeballs
reading a feed
cans of tuna fish and protein powder all i need
like, 2 dozen hardboiled eggs and a gatorade
wacka flocka flame while my soul degrades
ex military rambling on the crack bus to a terminal
cockroaches need coffee cake stank up in the urinal
i’m out in california
recording a man having a dt tremor with my phone
writhing like a cuppa night crawlers
on the side of a nameless bodega
next level crackhead shit screaming “I got the virus”
nobody can afford that shit
i pledge alliance in religious medical wards nationwide
with leaflets and signatures
i put my pin number in the pad
regarding all the bullshit i ever had
in my blood
feel the poison in my gut
pushed aside and exercised
to be real with my mind for what?
in the public bathroom with dremel bits to the mirror /
in the flea market with a box of sega genesis / old dusty
VHS copies of predator reminds me of racism towards
native americans w/ ghetto in the middle of the desert
adult men selling blow pop suckers for a rehab center
stank breath with newport pleasure
the rain makes the smoke cling to ur jacket
so you smell like an ashtray
ashes on everything
ashes in my pocket on my gum
to my phone in my hair
on my jeans rub the ash into my face
but i still am too focussed to notice
“I just wanna know” (repeat until defeated)
oh you wanna know but you know what they say
don’t come around in the middle of the day
all blk plastic
chew that cud
gotta getta grip that its all really blood
FBI on my iPhone
i don’t wanna die
i wanna go home
but i aint got no place to be
watch me burn in full HD
gimme all the money
crash test dummy
vampire wanna get chummy nose runny
too many teeth
i wanna eat dirt
i wanna just shake till my skeleton hurts
gutted like carp
spineless like shrimp
complexity complicates
tryta be simp
I’m the raccoon lifting up the lid
opposable thumbing some nat geographic
yelling my songs in the traffic
baseball paint on my face
cuz I’m training
i can play anyway i motherfuckin want
feel the panic attack
closing in from the blunt
god damn it
little picture gotta pan it
see the void don’t panic
schizophrenic govt. clerks in the white light
tight in my throat
hit the metal detector
enter the paradigm paper push sector
where nectar tastes like soap
stand behind the rope sir
don’t be high on dope sir
please take off ur coat sir
hands around ur throat sir
damn u been sober for a long long time
lost in the life that u never meant find
and when u go to sleep i got into the grind
i know that you see me in the back of ur mind
like the shoes on a wire getting up by design
in the petro metro where u fenna find
my face in the race for the word to be mine
thoughts i be thinking thought to be thought crime
check the cheese teeth on a tv
walk into the bank and I’m feel in hell greasy
flies in the kitchen wanna live in a tp
see u looking down but i know that you see me
kawasaki kid bike left in the gutter
scream to a mutter
rubbish in the water and it spread like butter
go deep in the medicated mind of a mother in the midwest
feel the pain of privilege burning in ur chest
cop out drop out get up walk out
out here grinding till the fucker burns down
is everything getting dumber?
thick skulls to the baseball hat with a nike check /
charade parade / i need tickets / this shit is legendary
Facebook hype / lifestyle tip / generational subcultural /
crooked billboard chart got the kids screaming put that pussy
on me hustle grind tote that 9 / i understand its a reality to an
extent to somebody but I can only apply it to my life so much
/ then I’m out of place out of step outta moment in my mind
cause i don’t think since i’ve started performing i have ever
watched anything without the intentionof ripping something
off / taking all these fragmentsa building a being to be
becoming the next thing relevant to the state of looking out n
ow here i am on the microphone in the shower eating cereal
and riding shotgun
dying from some internal hunger
god damn it bro what i’m doing isn’t some piece of theater
that’d be retarded like so downwind I’m getting that citizen
kane trip lame shit everybody wanna be baby face?
my face always looks pissed / i look crazy i be crazy /
crave me consume cartoon me I’m sketch /
moms boyfriend swigging bud lights
to the face at the tv
watching cashcab
shaking a lump of steak on a knife
little betch
does anybody wanna watch the world burn with me
get in on this gasoline blood letting ritual
my energy is like a prison alone in the fever
like for real, riding in cars, staring out the window
what the fuck is wrong with everybody ?
am i the only one trying to get paid in this bitch ?
look at my face mother fucker
thats 2012 years AD european caucasian
self obsession, grazing
my instagram if fucking amazing
because my life is a legendary copy of a copy of a copy
repeat until my nobody is somebody , buddy
lividly engaged with all this electric internet at all moments
so simple, yeah so simple,
swimming / drowning / swirling around in
the current of a leviathan
stare into my headspace
why do i feel like the only one i know
trying to really be a self ?
straight fuck me
fuck modesty / fuck humility
i wanna billion channel crisis
i wanna magazine cover
i wanna become rich to the point
where I’m an enemy of the state
because you think i want a mercedes
but i want billboard space
you think i wanna jacuzzi but i want revenge
currency is a tool
so I’m on some kubrick space odyssey shit
i use that money like a monkey wrench
i don’t have patience
for cgi representations of human sexuality
thru the personification of animals
in order to entertain your children
get this pixar shit out of my face
you’re gonna need one semi truck gas tank
filled with instant coffee
distributed in brand name styrofoam
this is cute, its cute, cutes good enough.
can u hear all those engines running,
babies bawling tandems of snot
and pushing red thru a frowny face
i feel like my horoscope is going black jack
dice roller the pizza box ceelo
gotta dollar bill to get more drugs
but now we call them supply as if to imply
they hold necessity.
how long can u keep ur eyes open
how hard is it to breathe
i can’t wait to leave home again
and I’m not even back there yet
i wanna gamble the ocean
instead of aiming at fish barrels
i wanna punch waves
instead of making ripples in the pond
its like I’m willing to run a gauntlet so hard my body shreds
to ribbons like an amebix buttflap
but thru out my volcanic disintegration
i ll exute the smell of armani cologne
and new apple products
somebody get me a batman themed mountain dew
i wanna gargle black dye and spit the mist at the sun like a
swarm of bubonic flies / you know its like impossible to feel
beauty unless you’ve seen some really fucked up shit
otherwise you appreciate shit like scented candles
and pier one imports / but I’m trynta get on that oh my god
the sand under my bare feet feels amazing when I’m on the
edge of the ocean like the closest thing on earth we get to
experiencing space fucking wow fucking now
I’m alive like for real. at least thats how it feels.

MRSA 'like' Triangles :

pills in my throat
swallowed with spit
your test results are back
you have MRSA
immune to pennicilin
and other topical gel
my insurance card expires
one month after my birthday
did you win? did you win?
no, but i’ll get another ticket
won a dollar back
and still threw it in the trash
cause that’s embarrassing .
4 to 1 text ratio
sorry for ignoring you
was under the impression
we should play it cool
now you never call
the light is always off
i can see from the corner
what a creep
grandpa keeps asking
about girls i’ve been seeing
always show him pictures
of girls already gone
make up random stories
“we’re going to take a road trip”
but really that already happened
26 years old is too old to be sad
never caught a break
when i was in a band
stopped smoking weed
and then i quit rapping
i just wanna do something harder
this is such a weird time for me to be alive
i think of situationists and genesis p. orridge
i’m just on the internet
purchasing attention
this is the way i can make it
i think
get behind the medium
with a never-ending message
as a picture of my face
you’re so young, so handsome
too serious, you’ll see
the best day you ever had you’ll forget rightfully
memory is pain
i understand the damage
of the drugs as treatment
it’s cool.
there’s like one tear in my head
and an aching in my chest
i don’t have melodrama left to perform
montone religion
hypsterize my image
what else
why not
im bored
“you don’t have time for me”
that’s what i pretend
wanted to impress her
now I’m just a dick
never in my life
has the pussy been so good
better than I ever thought about
ladies at the party
wanna piece of something fictional
i’m so full of shit
i’m their dream
but i’ll never take you anywhere
one day i’ll just be naked
their head on my chest
i’m picturing a funeral
nothing here is meaningful
everything is calculated
making the mundanity
all the more absurd
you’ll probably never get a tattoo
that holds represents relations with me
I thought I was in love before
but it feels like they weren’t
nothings ever good enough
i’m unsatisfiable
avoiding deeper sentiments
for the sake of my career
who the fuck is that talking
in my head or in my mouth
its like two different frequencies
making up my being
we wanna be in zen
we wanna be in love
we wanna be inside
we wanna be above
I wonder if im crazy
I wonder if im real
I wonder if it matters
if anybody feels
like that
fuck that
hyper self absorbtion
i’m gonna need more drugs
to make me stop obsessing
i can’t pretend your art will matter
because it’s actually terrible
you know this already
why’d you ask?
you can’t just start now
when we’ve all been going hard
on this weird shit since we were like 16.
I’ve seen beautiful vaginas
i’ve eaten weird and exotic foods
overtime I’ve just accepted i’m a dude
but it can’t reassure me
i can transcend the media
only i can do that
with a box of vinyl stickers
spelling out my alias
for strangers on the bus
i don’t have an idol
i idolize desires
isn’t that corruption?
i don’t know.
native american nonsense chanting
is this indian? tibetan? does it matter?
newage reverb yoga cd
synth patch
ocean breeze
don’t bullshit me with incense
where do you keep the dog teeth
the ones i can burn sage on
with a seagull vertebrae
imitation gold
and a hitler youth haircut
damn i must be dumb
she likes triangles
so do i
but that’s probably because we’re broke
so powerless
a shape
is all we can communicate
emoticon a death threat
and i’ll put my headphones in
bitch please
chicken grease
from a factory in hell
stewing in my stomach
with gin and pepto dismal
2012 end of days
mayan calendar mentalities
have been MIA the past half year
i think nobody really cares if the world ends or not
put the planet in a black plastic bag
looking certain ways to communicate a depth
i’m a symbol of my own myth
I’m an image transfer
a xerox copy
file degrade
and revisited
the only semblance of brilliance
becomes halftone black ink
laughing at me
i laugh at you
and everybody’s feelings get hurt
lol is a puff like a hiss or a scoff
along and condescending
till my confidence dissolves
if i can hear them they can hear me
insecurity camera man
I’m such a fucking creep
please stop asking why can’t everybody fuck
thats biologically unsound and irrational to say
you sound like you’re going to later justify a rape
in the name of some sexual necessity
don’t do some stupid shit because it worked for some stupid
person by appealing to stupid people, be real
i keep getting dizzy cause i can’t go to sleep
i wish there was a place where i could be
my roommates cooking venison
that may be way to old
and theres tobacco in every crack
the kitchen smells like burning
mixing compost and xylene marker
we’ve drawn on everything
including the fridge
hustle hustle high as fuck
not sure how to get a proper stance
but my hood is up
sunglasses - dark sunglasses
lost my keys, my wallet, my phone
in the ashes
dust is edible i guess
at least in some peoples homes
everything feels too real sometimes
i mean that in worst way possible
3 am hypochondria
afraid of my own body
my face is a crude mask
i want to live
i want to live
but I’m fascinated with dying
self absorbed anti real not actual
the romance of longing
fuck all this death
dead Facebook friends
dead people in cars
vibrating in the neutral gear
my real time anxious
out of sync
wanna puke out my heart in the toilet
just rip into that tension with my teeth
in the window
text message break up
back track
no shame
fuck bitches
chase love
that gag reflex shiver shake pain crush
thats not love
thats perpatration
every nite all nite ill be waiting

Peanuts And Coke :

the technology feels too masculine
for modernizing culture, dissolving gender
past aggressive survival instincts
once necessary flash freeze in obsolescence
the train i’m riding jerks forward, the hydraulic doors kinda
rip back, lights buzzing everything rumbling, tv’s mixing with
foreign language going full schizophrenic
thank you thank you thank you for flying
its too rough.
here these people “me” all weak and sleepy
carrying smartphones like we’re trying to navigate out of the
woods with a compass. update now, I’m not afraid or at all
jaded by this i think it’s really fucking cool actually but were
definitely not definitely anything.
changing now in the airport, in the magazine,
same faces different gift shops,
i think if when how i drink the coffee things get better
but i’m just more rapid in my indecision,
more options to discard,
face in the mirror, urinals filling with pee,
10 dollars worth of styrofoam prison portions of breakfast,
thresholds of first world patience pushing.
the feeling of a world without any need to become
genders and social position shifting
with increasingly dated machines that remind me of dudes
everything phallic and combative
blaring intercom voices designed to sound like women
come out garbled at high volume like seagulls
“gate B!”
losing money fast in limbo
listening to music intent on money
spending money like i got the money
and getting money because i believe in it,
the ethereal concept and worth of my money
some in notes some in digits
faith in it securing it.
Primordial sunrise across the landing strip
looking out thru the glass, close,
so I can feel the chill of the outside air.
The air still tasting and smelling like
night and I feel like I’m on the edge
of an aquarium.
The sky filling with orange haze,
make the trees and power lines
stand on the horizon super black.
In the past on this land there may have been
nomadic societies building alters in cosmic adoration
now there’s dunken donuts.
Photographing things I find funny and sending them to
my friends in the internet, I never did this until now,
nothing feels different,
every things different but it doesn’t feel different.
Watching the news on mounted flatscreen tv’s
without audio, closed caption streaming typo,
making me feel weird,
it’s the new edgy PC nature, vaguely religious,
hella white and sexist
and other infinite things that end with ist
it’s obvious they don’t care about people
or disease or holidays it’s just a scrambled
semblance of the “average” human thing,
online homophobic bullying and teenage suicide,
the news is weird and comically morbid
they use words like slay as if people ever say that
illusory, fresh as fuck graphics on the heathen earth
movie set, veils of futurist slang.
wanna be china
without the underlying aura of repressed deviance
yum yum cheese, peace, child education,
indulge and have discipline
socialize and reflect
this yogurt is endorsed by jamie lee cutris
yeah it’s getting really confusing
but it’s not slowing down
jamba juice and hello kitty
got yea and katy perry
everything is too much money
and why don’t any of these men know
how to apply cologne?
polo swag, smelling new,
but we’re broke,
somethings moving
re up the debt collection like it’s obligatory
new credit cards right here
i can sign up for one on the plane mane
everythings so ok
every things so ok it makes us feel sick
where is the moment I’ve been waiting for
to come alive
where is the danger
where is the climax
falling asleep in terminals
nightmares about çancer
regular dreams about old friends
remembering a period of time i never used
exhilarating everything to get a dose of truth
i never knew a person who didn’t seem confused
thats ok I’m just here to move
so what if all the tiny things rise into the apex
we couldn’t comprehend
shadows in the sidewalk turning into faces
penetrate me cold and collected
once indebt once ennamored
now a taxiedermied antler on the wall reminds me of us
once defeated once in love
now a thing to stand above
watch it vanish into a puff
everything became hyper fascinating
to a point similar to the feeling of adderall
once i decided I couldn’t live for any other reason
than to black flax my planet with daydreams
telemarketing voicemail
educational funding agency
complimentary free cruise for a survey
I’m down for their inspiration
welcome to the shadow zone
everything is for appropriation
taking the memories of places,
reacting and creating to them,
the same daydream,
how do i win,
how do i get to the point
where this effort develops a sense of autonomy
part of the game is that everybody
tells me its not a game
part of the motion is forgetting you’re moving
losing one thing gaining another
fuck everything else in my way
the footage matters, the recording matters,
the marketing matters, but i don’t
my profile matters, my photograph matters,
my commodity matters, but i don’t
and its awesome
but its not enough
I’m in lack I’m in love
my soul is hungry
i guess thats kind of fucked up
but its cool
I’m doing it this way just to see
because that loss of sleep isn’t for everybody
but its not any better
just part of the program tether
of the sacrifice to become the person I wanna be
now the ideas become visible
clouds of humanity
montage, hijack, mirage,
espionage, bite that,
cut and paste that,
erase and replace that
i’m down
this is where I’m supposed to be
forever in motion
forever in the transition
i love this, i the feeling of stagnancy
dissipating into abstract environments
into the sky, into the water,
into the fields,
graffiti spilling out of cities into the boonies
on the side of a barn
farm workers casting tiny shadows
little men riding lawn mowers
over little squares
who am i
i look in the reflection of the dimly lit mirror on the plane
feeling turbulence
touching the sides of my body
imagining falling, being ripped in a flash of jetfuel
imagining a book i publish,
imagining a show i play,
imagining the faces of strangers in the darkness
peanuts and coke
cookies and coffee
imagining falling for somebody
imagining growing old and bored with that
imagining the kiss where it made sense
and imagining the moment where it becomes contrived
ritualistic moments with the ocean
where I put my head against the sand
and let a wave submerge my face
imagining the feeling of eons broken into tiny seashells
diluting in the salt water that goes up my nose
runs over my mouth
and the breath i take makes me feel like an animal
yeah thats that shit i’m talking about
the time where i didn’t wanna be anything more

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