RANTS IN MY PANTS
...WHEN I GOTTA GO, I JUST GOTTA GO...
...no one knows what it's like...
HEY YOU!
THERE'S ALWAYS HOPE... (I HOPE...) THERE'S ALWAYS HOPE... (I HOPE...) THERE'S ALWAYS HOPE... (I HOPE...) THERE'S ALWAYS HOPE...
even if I make up words...
anyway, I used bcc to send this so you don't have to admit you received it if you don't want to... you can stay silent and not let anyone know you are there... or you can rage at me for sending mail to you... or you can do as you please... nobody will know, unless you want them to... not even me...
not even you...
I don't actually know Robert, the person who sent this to me via one of the lists listed below... but who knows anyone, really?... his wounds are open and he's sharing wildly, blindly reaching out in many different directions... for what, I don't know... but I applaud the effort... it inspires me, perhaps I'll even rant... after all, how long can one sit on the pot and not?...
[musical daydream: maybe... maybe I'm wrong... to go on thinking... to...]
I also found a couple of web pages I enjoyed and will visit again and I wanted to pass them along too... for we who love words... and for we who know challenges... cast me not from my personal hell until I have had my fill of whatever the hell I created it for, know what I mean?...
excuse me if a pimple bursts
and there was more... I'll pass along some stuff I found... do you mind?
be... or not...
so I looked at this list of lists and I pondered joining a few... and then I realized I don't have time for the lists I'm already on... and then I realized I still want something - maybe some kind of literary shock therapy, since I'm inspired by words so much... I mean, where does my anger go if I don't let it out?... where does my pain, my loneliness, my passion for life and the agony of how stifled I feel sometimes - where does all the energy I create go when I am wasted in depression?... where does the profound energy from the blows of my passion's head banging against the walls of propriety and pride and prejudice and popular opinion go?... does it burn me alive, eating me alive from the inside out?...
doctor, doctor, it hurts when I do this...
send in the clowns... old jokes, cynical comfort, rant, rage... damn the milignant conformity of this plastic society that compels me to hold back and play nice and be good... B... gooood... pull ET's finger and see if he farts... how can I be good when I've forgotten how to be?...
"if only he used his power for good"... oh really?... am I laughing?... chortling?... choking?... joking?... poking?... toking?... smoking?... my hairdresser doesn't even know for sure...
Harry told me...
breathe...
[what madness is this?... oh, it's mine]
so Robert, are we in time for tea and digestive biscuits?... the line for the pot forms on the left of the door, the right side is for the voyeurs... I'll show you yours if you show me mine... it's time to let it all out... to defacate the mindless consumption of mass quantities of pablum... to reach deeper into whatever we have between our ears and find out what's really important - what's really going on - what really matters in there... knock knock... hello...
hello...
hello...
is there anybody in there?...
[the sound of passing gasssssssses]
----the preceding message was not SPAM, but you may make sandwishes of it anyway... and remember, some typos have a deeper purpose beyond our comprehension... unless we go there... and if you've come this far, I challenge you to click on the links below... I applaud... and remember, no hold barred - are we ready to rumble?...
wasted innocence
still want to stretch your mind, amuse yourself, or just waste your time? (only you know what you do in the privacy of your solitude)...
Demotivators
want serious?... do you live in the US?... you can write your congress-person an email... they work for you, you're the boss... let them know what you think...
Your Representative in Washington
I think a local call is a local call, what do think?...
The Final Squeeze (He Shoots, He Scores!)
>
RANTS IN MY PANTS
...WHEN I GOTTA GO, I JUST GOTTA GO...
...no one knows what it's like...
HEY YOU!
February 23, 1999
this arrived in my mail today... Robert sent it... it's a crossposted mailing list message... impulsively, I reached for the forward button and opened my address book... then, relying on pure instinct, I selected you... yes, you... if you ask me why, I'll probably tell you it's because I believe you have an open mind and appreciate challenging, visceral, poetry... and rants... even if they are partially plagiarized... even if I misspell... even if send typos from hell... or even if I include an undetermined number of hapless cliches or even obscure lyrical references, irreverently, reverently, or whateverently...
maybe sysquash has been silently waiting long enough...
one of them might be X rated, but then, that would depend upon your rating system... I don't have one to offer, should I?...
it may be ugly to you
but it is part of my healing
letting it out,
cleaning the wounds,
and getting real...
does it send you reeling?...
how else can we know how we feel?...
and if we don't know how we feel,
we can only fake it...
pretend...
I want to heal...
for real...
I want to live, and you?
your mission, should you decide to accept it is... answer only the questions that mean something to you... and only if you want to... this is not a test... you will not be graded... even if you are jaded... or faded... you will not be paraded or invaded, even if you've masquaraded... be who you are, or not, be who you want to be, or not, be as you please, or not...
[there are no men in tights in this scene]
so anyway, I was just wondering if anybody out there is as tired of the seemingly endless numbness and as ready to explode as I seem to be more and more these days... but will they say...
do I know you?
do you know me?
do I know me?
do you know you?
who knows what?
and how can we be sure (in a world that's constantly changing, after all)?
the smoke witch says wazoo, ya know?
maybe you don't know...
now you do
but what do you really know?... which is real and which is memorex?... am I alive?... am I a victim of invasive commercialism or is the relentless commercialism a victim of my poverty?... would you send 73 cents a day so a starving child can watch re-runs of dog food commercials?... ruff, ruff... rough... if I told you it was killing me would you stop?...
how many ways can we spell rhetorical?... hysterical?... analytical?... political?... hypocritical?... or maybe just critical mass... who cares?...
or don't,
it's your choice...
waste your life,
no one will ever know your real potential
if you hide it well enough...
if you don't show yourself,
it's your loss...
if you don't want my pity,
why wallow in self-pity?...
is your pity better than mine?
self-pity never hugged me in the middle of the night
so why do I find some strange comfort there?
some wire crossed between my brain and my heart
running me ragged and going nowhere
apathy never got me off in the middle of a dream
so why do I hide all my feelings there?
some fire burned out my will to succeed
replaced it with some anal fear
procrastination is too big a word to understand
for a simple child inside a woman or man
even Alice wanted more than what she found in wonderland
and who really does the best they can?
so what are you doing right now?
can I touch you inside?
where you hide?
where you think you have died?
will you run?
if it's too much fun
were you told it is wrong
to sing your own song?
and what did you choose to believe?
yes you chose
your way
your cage
your play
you write your own story
so what do you say
will it have a happy ending
or will it just end?...
I dare you to tell me
I dare you to be... my friend
or shall we sit back quietly another day and just grumble?...
stillborn
this is not my life
open as soda
Poetry and Thoughts...
drumgrrl
The Secret Garden of Agnes
don't give up
a little hug
Wingmakers
Winnie Da Goth
See The Doctor
wAcKo wArNeR's Animaniacs/Beatles Page
Suck
The Death Clock
Dr. Seuss's Seussville!
Emotional Support on the Web
Noble Savage's Cave
Can It Be True?
Shadows of Love
Eye Candy
and in closing, may we all hit the mark when we finally have to go to that big potty in the sky, or wherever the hell we go when we leave here... and always remember, don't squeeze too hard...
-----Original Message----- (from Robert... remember him?)
From: Robert _
To: 123_Flameaway Mailing List; A_ROB_LIST Mailing List; AA_NA_CA Mailing List; all_poetry Mailing List; Bipolar2 Mailing List; BorderlinePD Mailing List; coda-12-steps Mailing List; Crazeepoets Mailing List; darkpersonalities Mailing List; deliriousmud Mailing List; EastTNBDSM Mailing List; GroupTherapy Mailing List; loneliness Mailing List @onelist.com; MD-BP Mailing List; helga888; UpsandDowns Mailing List
Date: Monday, February 22, 1999 9:17 PM
Subject: [loneliness] Ascending Cantos...L'estat seeks to top Pound!!!
>From: "Robert _"
>
>1st melody p.f.>>>diminishing to 2001>>>>>then subjective interpretation
>of reader...L'estats' canto xiv
>
>hey you- sitting all alone waiting bi the phone
>can you hEAR me?
>Hey YoU- crying with that smile grinning all the while
>you detest me
> Hey you- ease my pain give me relief from my brain
> during my trial, will you mourn my death?.....last gasp
> no breath
>
> Hey FUCK,...listen up i'm talkin to you
> I know you're compelled by the decaying flesh that you smell
> Hey YOU! yes i'm your ghastly mirror which you fear
> don't act guile
> let's have a toast
> I drink your bile
>
>
>hey ME still sufering from the shame
> of killing mommy in the rain,
> I shudder as I speak,
>YEAH==== I, I injecting cocaine
>reliving the cancer in the brain
> my maternal>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>...EXIle
>
>Hey US, what is the fuss?
> need eachothers' trust
> our wounds are open
> THOU i seek to embrace
> the stranger i fellate on the bus
> pulled back his foreskin
> Felt his thrust.......
>
>Louie-less L'estat
>
>Dual_Diagnosis@onelist.com
>
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