Pen-Powered Insanity

In solving problems; healing; rehabilitating the criminal spirit into a law-abiding one, when the laws make sense. Bringing the insane back to sanity; bringing the twisted level of the worst horrors down a notch by increasing the pace past where even they all could go and letting it fall back and away knowing that they’ll push it to those points some day in the future or past, but not today and that gives things time to think about what to do about it when it does get there. In solving problems by getting things to back down, to go back down the bad paths they’re on to find the right ones again. In taking the edge off of the fight, the edge off the bitterness, if not exactly taking those things out entirely. Too bad it’s just not been useful in actually making my current life completely better. Certain perks, same as anyone else, I’m sure, which makes it harder for peace to fight against the other methodologies to actually prove itself better and in the process of doing so only begs for the making of things worse as so many other outspoken ones claim they have the answers and do mass damage before they learn.

I mean, what did you think I meant when I said useful? Like so many other people knowingly make use of it without saying a word to others about it? At that point, why would I say something about it openly? I’m not that addled or stupid. Therefore, it should be assumed logically that I meant it in the best way possible, best being denoted and given over to peace to treating each other well in terms of courtesy, going out of our ways to do nice things for each other without worry that those terms are being misconstrued for things that aren’t nice, aren’t the best and without the argument playing in the background that beating the fuck out of each other and manipulating each other and destroying each other is actually nicer, actually more peaceful. I mean, Why does that plague our every thought, why do I see it work in so many when I speak truth, when I speak trust, when I push outward to show it and to go out of my way to, multiple times over for the simplest things, put back in the right perspective of; this is how I meant it; only for it to get misconstrued again, only for it to get twisted again in others eyes.

And even this, you will forget and others here will forget until I bring up the past again some future day to jog you all out of the dark places you got pushed back into.

[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vCZ1YteCv5M[/youtube]

We’ve all seen the man at the liquor store beggin’ for your change
The hair on his face is dirty, dreadlocked and full of mange
He asked a man for what he could spare with shame in his eyes
“Get a job, you fuckin’ slob”'s all he replied

[CHORUS]
God forbid you ever had to walk a mile in his shoes
'Cause then you really might know what it’s like to sing the blues
Then you really might know what it’s like [4x]

Mary got pregnant from a kid named Tom who said he was in love
He said, “Don’t worry about a thing, baby doll, I’m the man you’ve been dreamin’ of.”
But three months later he said he won’t date her or return her call
And she sweared, “God damn if I find that man I’m cuttin’ off his balls.”
And then she heads for the clinic and she gets some static walkin’ through the door.
They call her a killer, and they call her a sinner, and they call her a whore

[CHORUS]
God forbid you ever had to walk a mile in her shoes
'Cause then you really might know what it’s like to have to choose
Then you really might know what it’s like [4x]

I’ve seen a rich man beg
I’ve seen a good man sin
I’ve seen a tough man cry

I’ve seen a loser win
And a sad man grin
I heard an honest man lie

I’ve seen the good side of bad
And the down side of up
And everything between

I licked the silver spoon
Drank from the golden cup
Smoked the finest green

I stroked the baddest dimes
At least a couple of times
Before I broke their heart

You know where it ends
Yo, it usually depends
On where you start

I knew this kid named Max
He used to get fat stacks
Out on the corner with drugs

He liked to hang out late
He liked to get shit faced
And keep pace with thugs

Until late one night
There was a big gun fight
Max lost his head

He pulled out his Chrome .45
Talked some shit
And wound up dead

And now his wife and his kids
Are caught in the midst
Of all of his pain

You know it comes that way
At least that’s what they say
When you play the game

[CHORUS]
God forbid you ever had to wake up to hear the news
'Cause then you really might know what it’s like to have to lose
Then you really might know what it’s like [3x]
To have to lose…

What more is there to write about; what more is there to say? What more could I put together in poetry for my audience who loves such things and bypasses all that I actually talk about. I’m the celebrity that never wanted to be, with the fanbase I couldn’t give two shits about, that hates the fame and wishes more for those with insight to look beyond what I say to what I mean. What more could I do to put out theories and theses of solid foundation, what more can I do to round up thoughts and put together formalizing data that concludes arguments to be idiocy, but no more than the walking idiocy that doesnt just walks, but talks and, impressively, somehow makes tools and puts them to use.

What more can I say of the afterlife, or the mind? What more can I say about our current lives, our struggles; what more can I give in terms of blood, sweat and tears that I haven’t given at least a half-dozen times before. What can I possibly do to anymore make a mockery of all that politics and government has become, the sham of the land and the shame of the people that claimed to be so much more and wanted to be only to fall too far down, scrape their knees with little scratches and claim the darkness was too much for them without knowing a damn thing about the well they just avoided. What more can I do to put every philosopher to shame and turn them on their ear; what more can I do to bring the scientists to tears, the scholars to face their fears, the warriors to realize that they can never win for the peace they fight for, for the freedom of those they try to protect only to be used and abused too much and in all the wrong ways by their own people who didn’t deserve the loosening of their chains and bindings?

What more can I honestly put forth in a land and world that hates honesty so much that nobody is honest that is ‘wise’. When everyone becomes a pathological liar and even the ones who could and would talk to me about these things, don’t have the same passion for them, even though they can hold their own, still work against what I have fought my entire life for. Soon, I will become silent, as silent as I’ve been in the past when I know my enemies are circling like vultures. As silent as I’ve been when I’ve toed the line before while pursuing my talents, skills and abilities and passions and ran across so many insulting, hating, destroying what I love. As silent as I’ve been when I can sense the animosity in the air and the gears ticking, knowing my time is limited and the hunt is on to push me out. Believe it or not, but for the last 3 years being what they have been, that HAS BEEN the calm before the storm. The calm of it.

Pen-Powered Insanity from my past:

More from history:

And, still more:

You’re getting up into the eye-bleed section; proceed with caution:

[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kgkYN3QjD5M[/youtube]

Imagine a real buddhist monastery with monks in their day-to-day; quiet contemplation and quiet mingling, although still riddled with laughter and tears; doing their chores and other menial tasks, making time for simple games and meditation and thought. Imagine that someone ran up into their Temple and began shouting wildly and laughing at them and making fun of the way they were dressed and their way of life in general. All of which, to them, is completely natural and normal. Every part of their life in tune with nature and making perfect sense and then someone pops in that is not in tune with nature and makes sense of nothing to make fun of them for their way of living which is entirely normal and has existed in peace for ages.

They would react at first with patience and try to be true to their beliefs, but people can only take so much of a certain type of treatment. If this person failed to respect the rules, they would be made to respect the rules or be thrown out. If they chose to stay, they may in time come to have a place within the temple and become a member of notice if they manage to reach enlightenment through their trials and tribulations and search. At worst, they would be thrown out and told not to return, if they failed to learn to respect the way of living and if they chose to stay in spite. However, they would be given every chance to step in line and be the things that all people should be to each other.

Imagine, now, that one of those monks in their peaceful and quiet life decided to travel the world to gain enlightenment through physical travel and the inundation of new thoughts and new experiences and new philosophy, etc. Imagine that they came into your culture, where people war and fight and are arrogant without cause. Imagine that as they walked down the road in their travelers gear that people stopped and stared at them like some freak at a carnival. This monk that had lived in peace and quiet is suddenly found in a strange land and all alone, with only the mental balance taught by his temple to keep him true to himself. Imagine that as he walked down a road in North America, he was accosted by several members of this different society. He did not want any harm, but harm was forced upon him and he was forced to defend himself against these society members.

They out-number him, but his training and balance of body and mind hold true and he’s able to fight them off. He could hurt them and kill them, but that’s not his way, or the way of his temple. He gives them a beating they richly deserve and they run off. But, they don’t feel it’s fair. They should have had him. After all, they out-number him and should have given him the beating that every foreigner deserves (in their opinion). They call the cops and tell how they were accosted by this man. The cops question him and he answers honestly that, yes, he did accost those men. Saying no more, because he expects them to understand that he would not have initiated a fight, he’s arrested for beating up these people. To wit, he has not a mark on his body from them, but they are riddled with bumps and bruises from him.

As he continues to be honest, their legal system works against him and suddenly these people are afraid for their lives and spreading lies about this Monk that he is powerless to fight against. He has already honestly admitted to accosting them, and the fact that they attacked him first has little meaning to the rest of the world, because the news media now spins out a story about a brutal and sociopathic monk and the public support goes against him. When he denies the rest of the accusations which are all lies, the jury looks at him and says ‘you admit to accosting these fellows but deny these other allegations. We think you’re only telling us what you think we want to hear instead of owning up to the full measure of your crimes.’

The Monk is punished and sentenced to time in their prisons as the media slanders him and the Government locks in on him because they fear he might be a terrorist. While in jail, the monk retreats into his thoughts and processes everything that has happened to him. he tries to meditate, but the other inmates jump in to mess with him. He defends himself and no more than that, but earns their respect because they’ve lived a harder life and all they respect is force. They begin to learn from him about meditation and deep spiritual insight and nirvana and transcendence. Even though they think it’s kind of silly, they go with it because they’re curious about how this quiet and tranquil man can be such a force to be reckoned with.

In time, he does become the terrorist that the government feared he was, for as he sat in jail and shared his wisdom with others, they began to see through their experiences the faulty nature of their own society and they were out-raged. Without the temperance of a life-time worth of meditation and control, they set out and induct others into their ‘brotherhood’ and begin teaching people how to be free, though they also practice violence beyond that which they should. Not all of them join this movement and not all of them practice more violence than they should, but enough to set an army marching in the background and out of sight of the government.

When the monk is finally freed from jail, he’s picked up by the government authorities; secret agents that nobody who lives knows exist due to the passing of laws protecting them and preventing others from knowing for reasons of ‘plausible deniability’. They deduce after months of intense interrogation that this Monk is ultimately harmless, and they send him back home. When he finally reaches his Temples’ gates, he pauses and reflects a little on all of the changes and everything else that has happened during his journey. He goes inside, greets old friends, sets his pack in his room which still exists the same as it had when he left years before and immediately begins meditating and does barely anything else than that for the rest of his life, socializing less with others and shying away from games.

Meanwhile, in that other country, a violent revolution of thought and ideology is waiting just beneath the surface for the right time to strike with everything they were taught. They lack responsibility and restraint and have been made to be criminals; some without ever harming another person in any concrete manner. They have every reason to be out-raged and up-in-arms.

What began as peace and harmony became a huge threat to everything that was not, while what started in anger and disharmony was not much of a threat to anything other than itself, for peace and harmony and balance existed before, during, and after everything else and the delving into dark places was only momentary while the finding of balance and being at peace with yourself and everything else lasts forever and beyond all things.

The time for my pen-powered insanity has come nearly to an end. I have done my part, played my part, in all that is done with words and by words; have paved ways for so many to fulfill their works to fill in the gaps. I came into this world fighting, and intend to leave it in that same manner, except the fight changes as I go. Work hard, play hard.

C’est la vie. Cut out my own tongue, sliced off my own ears, gouged out my own eyes, removed my sense of touch and taste. It’s the free life for me now, boys.

No ! Hi please stay, I have not had the pleasure,

Well, since you twisted my arm so hard, I guess I’ll have to for a little while longer at least. Jackass.

[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6NXnxTNIWkc[/youtube]

I simply took the most dangerous route available and called everyone else a pussy. Can’t blame me for that when it was the only route I had available.

[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0eXIOK2vOhM[/youtube]

[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4sXoA7B5yJo[/youtube]

[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LQUXuQ6Zd9w[/youtube]