There is mold around my soul, on account that I haven't used it as much as when I was a boy.
Back then it was pure and glowed a bright red. Now it just sits there withering away into a nothingness flecked with gray spots.
The intensity is no more, have to just grow, blind myself with duties, and walk like a drone.
Don't want to be bothered.
Just leave me alone.
I would love to wake up like I used to when I was a child, every thing is new and greeted with a smile.
I guess that's one of the reasons why I hate Christmas, It reflects on the fact that all of Innocence and passion is gone.
I am so glad that Christmas is over.

p.s.
I love reading all of your entries.
Welcome back every one!!
What are your plans for New Year's??

The day starts off cold and lonely,
The Haze fades out during the morning making an exit at about 10, who knew that real life was so much responsibility.
It grows on your back like an itchy wart that expands at a rapid pace.
Who knew it was so difficult to function. Like a drone you follow orders, swallowing bits and pieces of your pride. Most of the time you are right yet until you have your own business you have to stand still.
28 Years old and still waiting.............

It's getting Fuking Cold!!!! So I try to keep busy with lots of work.
Just chekin in on you peeps. How the hell are you???

The truth flows out of this Tempo
The drums snap and crakle on your speaker
If it fades away and leaves you behind,
You better step aside
Cuz im hear to rhyme!
If you step back it will all go through
The rythim and the rhyme will help us renew you.
And as we create this dank new flow,
Just sit and relax, enjoy the show.
As we skip and skatter, you think it really matters?
What is big or what is small?
What is short or who is tall?
Who is great or who will fade out of this junction?
Percusion will light the flame on your internal combustion!!
Prepare to evacuate your soul
Prepare to light up this soaked up fire torch, full of societys gloomy probabilities.
The handycap ways of their anatomy
The crazyness surrounding the inability to grow.
A giant spectrum illuminates our hide,
As we sit back and just get high,
Drums snap and crakle away.............
(Insert drum solo here).
The base line grows into a swhower of beats full of perfection,
Who gives a shit, who is responsible for our creation.
As I sit and wonder if it really matters, if it means digresing in to pished Gibber Jabber of scandalous church talk.
Pardon me, Im not ready to die!!!
Im not ready for al your truth and lies!!!
I would gladly step out if I had a clue.

New friends and Old friends are welcome at my dinner table, grab a drum, or crack a smile. Help me fade out of the fake and create a brand new style. You are more than welcome to bring happiness disguised as truthfull rythims that mask our souls, as we step in to the divine paths of creation.
The Birth of the real.
Cosmic troubles left behind.
Infiltrate escape out of the unkind narrowminded slavery that plagues our every day existance.
Be sure about your self or pack your things and leave.

My thoughts overflow in to this, I scurry arround for something to write. All the Pain & Suffering and being Cold reseeds in to a peaceful glimmer of a glassy Ocean in the morning. All the Craze and Madness that punished me with sadness is gone. All of a sudden you find yourself not giving explinations. No more clarifications or moments of doubt. All of a sudden you find yourself creating your life.
Fuck all the little stupid bullshit that clogs the pipes that run through our daily lives.
Fuck everything from the Past that casts shadow's on Tomorrows ride.
Fuck the pride that blinds you in front and leaves you looking behind.
And we look to and fro, pounding away at our keyboards, not having to worry our way arround having to say Yes of No.