in the never ending quest to get better we, sometimes, become worse. facebook. wordpress. movies. music. sports. with new technology brings new tools. new formats. new ways. but many times the new ways are just confusing. more busy but less effective. more flashy but less deep. less practical. a never ending quest to get better. why are we on a never ending quest to get better when we are, many times, just fine as we are. confusing times for confusing minds. arguing over maggots while time keeps passing. time passing while faces are falling and skin is wrinkling. advice comes in all shapes and sizes. advice comes from books. comes from parents. comes from friends. comes from enemies. comes from teachers. comes from egotistical maniacs that project their problems onto many while showing old pics of old women’s snatches on their phone. snatches and tits. who takes pics of their snatch and tits and then sends them to some married man in his fifties? what has brought someone so low that they feel the answer to happiness and respect is to send ugly snatch pics to some disrespecting man? what a sick world we live in? in a never ending quest to get better and to get approval we have become whores and slaves. slaves to a shitty system that counts your worth by how many “likes” one gets on IG. love has taken a back seat to “likes” and authenticity has taken a back seat to phoniness. was I born in the wrong time? do I live in the wrong town? it is dreary outside and I hear the phone ringing. it sounds like the ring from Linda way. a place where I grew up. a place where I met many great people and had many great times. a place where I called home for many many years. a place where I had two cats that died and a great Dad who passed away so suddenly that I never got a chance to really say “GOOD BYE.” a great man with many friends and many interests. a man who loved everyone and everyone loved him back. people speak of great dads and great men but my Dad truly was the greatest. if I could be just half the man he was I would be doing well. stop hate. inspire and bring love to the world. bring hope. but what happens if I end up old and alone? unable to talk. unable to see. unable to feel anything but pain. what happens if I grow old and die in Orangeville. a man with many talents and many friends living a lonely life of suffering. slowly descending into nothing. nothing in life and nothing in death. a never ending quest to get better. but what if I am good enough just as I am now. what if I have it all inside me but I have a big brick wall stopping my flow of emotion and flow of knowledge that could help others. help myself. how does one break down the wall without breaking down? breaking down walls the way I used to break down scripts and break down. simply break down. breaking down is easy to do. building up is much harder. but do I need to build up or do I merely need to tell stories? tell my stories. raw and powerful. sad and funny. painfully real and painfully raw. emotion over thought. PLEASE. PLEASE. PLEASE!!!!!!!! stop thinking and feel. fuck phonies and fuck fake friends with fake advice but the advice should be directed at their painful lives but rather than looking at themselves they project vermin and ego back onto me. let it go. LET IT GO. LET IT BE??? Not so sure. be me. not he. not she. not thee. not…well…we??? we is good. a collective always more important than individualism. but get the right collective. join the right team. or create your own team. a team wanting to better the world with love and compassion and empathy. an artist takes a difficult task and makes it easier to understand. a peasant takes a simple task and makes it more difficult. politicians are the scum of this earth. bringing chaos and hate. FUCK THEM.
this new format on word press is just another example of taking something that works and then just fucking the whole thing up. JUST LET IT BE. LET IT LIVE. GET AWAY FROM MY WRITING AND LET ME WRITE. OR MAYBE IT IS TIME TO SWITCH SITES. IT IS TIME. PUBLISH MY NOVEL. WRITE A BOOK. DO. ART. BE THE ARTIST THAT I ALREADY AM.
notanotherphony. 