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rape my history [27 Mar 2005|09:00pm] [ mood | my recital, another tantrum ] [ music | murs - you and i ] c-its all such a mystery, if life is a game, its raping my history, and leaving me to shame i want to scream, i want to yell, i wanna bitch about how ive had no help, i want to rampage, i wanna break stuff, i wanna sniff and sniff til i dont wake up, i tried to settle down, it wasnt worth it, im just not good enough if im not perfect, life is a big joke, but a stupid one, get in trouble for trying to have a little fun, and im just fed up, with the way things go, but it just festers inside cuz i dont let it show, what is being happy, whats its valued cost, how much are you willing to give up before its lost, im at my witts end, my strings wound to tight, i dont know if i can continue the fight, i cannot defend, what doesnt sound right, ive wandered to far away from the light, whats the meaning, tell me the purpose, the reason for strife and why its worth it, i was just dreaming, didnt know what hurt was, now i hate life and havent even scratched the surface... c-its all such a mystery, if life is a game, its raping my history, and leaving me to shame im broken down, im battered, like nothing had ever seem to matter, i am scattered, a little worried, that i grew up in such a tremendous hurry, i feel ive missed out, and it effects me, like how can i be accomplished and be empty, so i raise these points, among some others, and reflect on all of the people ive called brother, when i needed some help, where were they all at, a friends not a friend if they dont have your back, i was left alone, but whats it good for, to anyone else caring about themselves more, but when they needed mine, i was right there, with a chip on my shoulder and grin to bear, its all for money, noone really cared, ive tried to explain that in the views that ive shared, my glass was half full, but now theres none left, i drank it to see if i could get buzzed yet, so i claim nada, i have no outlet, and anything times zero leaves nothing to get... c-its all such a mystery, if life is a game, its raping my history, and leaving me to shame. i kept my head up but time ran out, and now am fed up, enough to shout, whats the reason, wheres it end, the changing seasons, they never bend, and so im left with, no excuses, given a gift, that has no uses, so i guess ill drift on, without meaning, or just lie back, and hope im dreaming... has been disrupted -9- *communication*

skies [26 Mar 2005|10:58am] [ mood | what lies beside my heart ] [ music | atmosphere - running with scissors ] so sorry its been a while, to any of you whom may care, but this has been marinating in my thoughts for a while, so... enjoy. Its a sloth like mentality that bears this attitude, thats why i go to sleep with it, wake up with it every afternoon, the audacity of the naked moon, leading the hopefuls from now to their impending doom, looming with great woe of the present scary, longing simply to breathe pleasent airy, fairly confident of the things hes left burried, emotion and friends in respective cemetairies, ones hypothetical, the others pragmatic, that haunts my whimsy with excellent magic, it impeeds orthodox methods of habit, like a radio station playing nothing but static, a dogmatic and prophetic post to withstand, the child got lost from not holding his hand, but i plan, to touch down before i ever land, and stand on every angle of man, oh but how a dream and a wish can so quickly turn sour, wrought from misguiding intentions eceeding to cower, turn politely away from the schemes of this hour, tred lightly dirt walker bearing no seeds to flower, live earthy course shower to show you the way, sensible yet mundane is the theme of the day, take that dream and that wish to be carried away, and wallow in sorrow in the course of dismay, in stay of rememberence apropos your past larks, angels methodically lost will to sing now they bark, melodically challenged the sound of the hark, thats why i sleep in the light, and live in the dark. c- the sky is endless, i only was trying to be a better man, but this is senseless, being the building block to a lesser plan, the sky is endless, i can see for miles what im supposed to do, but this is senseless, i might be an oak tree, but ive been carved through... its been 40 days, 40 nights left unmanned, 400 chronological years stuck reverted to unplanned, 20 somethin years ive waited steady hand, itll be 20 sumthin more ive lost patience stand, a seedling lucked still in development, to support a forest withholding intelligence, through the pressure of the opressors embelishment, while keeping a glass half full despite where hellish went, stellar sent this type of requirement offers, more than any of this nicotene and caffine can foster, while trying to see the future in a tea cup and a saucer, its not forbade to understand what its lost for, spent years circling the soulless recognisence, to understand a type of person coveting flatulence, so i would be the one providing postulant, to proceed merry onward at the sake of my continence, i became a solid type stone in the eye of the beholder, that you could lean against, a confidence holder, my outward demeanor tied up in a boulder, for everyone to misuse and abuse like i told her, even with cold shoulder, rocks arent meant to move, only to endure the pain from wind and water grooves, bruised egos with nothing left to prove, no proposal fuels my heart with nothing else to lose, ive snoozed after plowing fields a thousand fold, tired from the mystacism i myself must hold, for future preservation encompassing old, to save the pretence of every possible word ive told c- the sky is endless, i only was trying to be a better man, but this is senseless, being the building block to a lesser plan, the sky is endless, i can see for miles what im supposed to do, but this is senseless, i might be an oak tree, but ive been carved through, the night is relentless, revealing something i havent felt for a while, the right is defenseless, so i could be someone you talk to in the morning with a smile, its tight offenses, so i could assist the sustenance water feeder, the fight is senseless, so i intercede throwing myself right into the heater... *communication*

for your enlightenment... [05 Mar 2005|10:46am] [ mood | its the same old same again ] [ music | aesop rock - wake up call ] for your enjoyment/enlightment/escape from boredom, here are some random shorts i came up with at work. RyaIsm</c> --you are hereby cordially invited to view the casually denoted farsighted, implied by linguistics ryanistic, refried by simplistics so twisted, so you are formally provided to spew the flatulence bar lighted, insighted to worries against nature to weed out the real ones from the fakers, its a lesson in love fabricated, its seeing above playcated, for the sake of the caper and the well being of my saviour, only to frighten and scurry against the grain of this furry, ignore the formality mentality, thats just how it be im proud of me, to release the senseless worry from soccer moms lost in a hurry, yet its very real very angelic so im posted with a pop and a pellet, to level the playing field, pass out a better deal, through deaths door embelished only still good enough to sell it, and dwell on it for the evening until what time ill be leaving, from no longer enduring your pain, by waves read from your brain, so goodbye while your done seething hollar when you resume breathing.-- --being young has advantages, some most wouldnt see, until there older in bandages, or lost and floating out to sea, the ability to forsee good future, to look to the beyond, to connect today and tomorrow with suture, while throwing stones in that pond, one skip two skips three skips more, all while pretending we had nothing to endure, so if your an asshole, if your a bitch, any label aquired from talking to much shit, this is my epitaph, words to the earth, praising when your rephrasing any shit ive talked since birth, reach to the bar, get a grip, they anxiously await when you might let it slip, this time its ours, rise up in ranks, theres a ryanist behind you with words for a shank.-- --yesterydays the same cuz today had no difference, i dont look forward to tomorrow cuz i see no hope in it, wake up, hate life, and playcate exsistance, strive to resist and insist on persistance, look around stretch and plant my feet on the cold floor, prepare my self for dealing by just wading on the shore, sort out whats reality and whats been seen in dreams, break the pm daze and wonder what it means, -- --peerin across the moonlit lake, i discovered sumthin in tha wake, having personal discussions of fate, not to mention the exsistance of faith, im holding myself back tryin to wait, alwayz thinkin sumthin else is next, the gate? the gate, a grate, a crate, itz all tha same, cuz there is only one prize in lifes game, so why push myself to a claim to fame? a constant black cloud looms ahead, i thot i wuz almost out, but im in the middle agian, i try to grab that ray of sunshine and then, i alwayz end up stuck again. the meanin to life, i cant find one, to far behind, betta catch up son, only a battle ended, the war has just begun, n the outcome determines ur fate, if u even have one. so many wrong directions headed, the hate was already imbedded, now itz loose and growing stronger instead, im waiting for wutevas next, shulda left me for dead. . . all of your precarious claims are driving me insane. when the darkness fell i lost my sense of direction, with evil consuming me like an infection, paitiently waitin for wutz next, cuz this life has got me vexed-- has been disrupted -2- *communication*

complexes [28 Feb 2005|12:22pm] [ mood | antihero earthworm mentality ] [ music | nas - jesus walks ] the words that i speak, and the verbs that i leak, are insured by the stars, on essence so bleak, a barrell of fish, but careful to dish, proportioned extortion, i was aiming to miss, on the brink of this madness, i link with the bandits, to drink of this sadness, and think of the gambits, to reason with past, in season change fast, a treason grouped mass, for a seasoned grilled bass, and treasure behold, in measure of old, with pleasure and soul, we gesture the fold, for reverting the scene, and perserving the team, well rally the nonsense, by subverting the scheme, in trickle down stature, to tickle the capture, a nickel per sickle, to stickle the rapture, in dreams and in life, for the screams and the strife, to ween the fiends, of the way of the knife. c2x-its a complex, that left these ppl running scarred, its a complex, that leaves the questions in the air, its a complex, that keeps you bound to the floor, and its a complex, that will walk me right on out the door in regards to my stasis, a humbling oasis, i reside in myself, were on a first name basis, so why rock the boat, and stop just to float, angels with broken wings, land in my moat, and wallow in sorrow, for a hollow tomorrow, berieved by the swallows, a call though to borrow, an ounce of respect, to pounce and connect, pertaining to wisdom, denouncing success, a borderline schizo, with turpentine crisco, to complex the annex, on slip and slide discos, napoleon or god, circumventing a fraud, bow to me now to me, a wink and a nod, a crooked ass halo, affixed to dirty ass pesos, it was born from my youth, and bombs made with draino, but we see where the wagons, had left me back laggin, then felt the scorched earth, being burned by the dragons. c2x-its a complex, that left these ppl running scarred, its a complex, that leaves the questions in the air, its a complex, that keeps you bound to the floor, and its a complex, that will walk me right on out the door its been a long road traveled, the profoundness was babbled, interpreted wrong, misuse of the gavel, its that what keeps you bound, its what that keeps you found, its abuse and chartruce, that gives me this sound, the people dissappear, the crowds hide in fear, with eterninty abroad, please lend me your ears, cut the bicker and fights, for most times im right, but still bleed in the night, and read in the light, its a complex in lockness, that reside in pants pockets, brought on by bad taste, and old pictures in lockets, the ability of a saviour, foresaw by the neighbor, has a minty fresh outlook, but a real bitter flavor, fermented possible just for this date, intensily observant undermining fate, wisdom beyond years, to what portions on my plate, so with minitaur mentalities, and creative originality, i hope to finally, bring peace inside of me. c2x-its a complex, that left these ppl running scarred, its a complex, that leaves the questions in the air, its a complex, that keeps you bound to the floor, and its a complex, that will walk me right on out the door has been disrupted -2- *communication*

the inbetween [20 Feb 2005|12:26pm] [ mood | head pressure senses clutch ] [ music | grouch and eligh - street walking ] attitude is pride if its true that you lied, grattitude has died it seems its long since fried, lattitude needs cyanide when it graciously portrays the truth behind the many skeletons you hide, but if your closets full, where can i put mine, its sad that never mattered, even after every time, when i pulled pushing benedictions, metaphorically rhyming contradictions, hinged upon storm windows left unlatched, and when the present hurricane approaches well all be left unmatched, attached to every fiber of the situation, man enough to grow perpendicular to infatuation, saturation of surrounding impeeding counterparts, a million and one fathers and sons who all the sudden found a heart, is interpretation of my shouldve couldve wouldve cast, the grass might just be greener wout a fatherless past, so i farm the reap of what possibilities ive sowed, but walking on sunshine is easier when its with someone you know, so the crops that i harvest during mid december, are always frosted, bad, bitter, or i cant remember, nobody told me that the right time was september, or gave me motivation to get up before november, thats why humbly i remain a prarie dog, my dogmatic teachings have left me a pedagogue, but my intention was to develop solely thanks to me, from lack of sleep, drugs, pride, and anonymity i took a long walk off a short peir, fell in way to deep when vision went unclear, drownding in any direction to fucked up to steer, swept away into unknown only afraid of the fear i blossemed to quickly from seedling to weed, a dandelion amougst a flower sea, the upbringing of a picture box from robot cars to phasers, bred me to resort to a shot of mary jane and a nicotene chaser, a starlight amazer that fizzled before its prime, so i milk my habitat and think to pass the time, its a lonely road but ive made that hike, to many pit stops spent praying for a bike, held behind fixing wheels on other peoples trikes, i promised myself to leave when they plugged the dyke, suckered in by the encoded speech impediments, spouting steps to achieve plans of future detriment, unaware of the abilities i became inherent with, i only wanted to provied a life perserver in a sea of embarassment, so im coherent embedded with an unyielding famine spread, still i remain through trials and tribulations without brekaing your bread, but getting inside your head, is studies connected lead by mad scientists instead of proper intelligence and common sense fed, adjacent to constituted theories and points, even the lack luster of wonder needs a control and counterpoint so i took a long walk off a short peir, fell in way to deep when vision went unclear, drownding in any direction to fucked up to steer, swept away into unknown only afraid of the fear, longing for that support the chain of family, lest we forget equations of sanity, where the dust storm gathers, where ever the future lathers, when the time is released, and presented as a feast, is the same time i will learn to swim, and arise from what ive regarded grim has been disrupted -2- *communication*

[12 Feb 2005|01:19pm] [ mood | i cross em with my eyes closed ] [ music | atmosphere - se7en ] i aim to follow the footprints, youve left behind, so i can retrace your mindsteps, please press rewind, i feel i need to breathe your mist, from the inside, and will grow with the nourishment, you can provide, my lost sunlight has been renewed, from your sweet kiss, maintaining strength was very lude, straddle weakness, left for dead broken in two halves, was previous, from lack of lovelife in my days, left me listless, a wishlist with only one wish, to just wake up, so we can fish this desire, but can stay tough, star crossed star bound we may never know, ill tell you this, whatever the possible case, loves not amiss, and to where my heart is concerned, ill give whats left, if you can break down walls ive earned, was that or death, keep on trekking long to resist, my bitter groan, it was placed upon nails affixed, to my backbone, but with all problems ive incurred, throughout my life, its been more bad times ive deffered, in the day light, be prepared for anything new, it gets heavy, so theres your ticket we leave soon, are you ready? c-lets take trips, across my, longing, untold, essence, and from there, you can see, just what, i hold, pleasent, with proper, persuasion, you just, might just, believe it, cuz if i, could show you, you would, never, leave it... with proper, persuasion, you just, might just, believe it, cuz if i, could show you, you would, never, leave it... i want to get inside your head, and take a look around, so i can see if what i read, was proper profound, because souls run deeply abound, it does in my head, i only assume from whats found, secrets better off dead, what kind of skeletons own you, where does loyalty rest, and wheres the landmines that youve zoned through, so i reach your nest, cuz i know that you have seen hell, and dont feel blessed, and tried to find heaven as well, but you just guessed, only now i can help to set us right, two spirits one stone, if you can be willing to fight, bloody and broken bones, love is a arduous emotion, but we can make it, with orthodox diacritic notions, yes we can take it, happy just to have you beside me, it refreshes will, take my hand and confide in me, dont hesitate still, ill be in it for the long haul, for what you left inside, even if i dont deserve your fall, way underqualified, but the bonds are beffitting here, i know you love me, and can dry those very old tears, hold you above me, and take you on the journey true, for eternity, you would never want to leave boo, if i could show you what i see c2x-lets take trips, across my, longing, untold, essence, and from there, you can see, just what, i hold, pleasent, with proper, persuasion, you just, might just, believe it, cuz if i, could show you, you would, never, leave it... with proper, persuasion, you just, might just, believe it, cuz if i, could show you, you would, never, leave it... *communication*

stick it [05 Feb 2005|11:33am] [ mood | maybe im just an asshole ] [ music | eyedea - on this i stand ] its been a million times ive raced fast paced the floor, and a million times ive waited shift negated whats labeled poor, lost amidst whats not found preach sound evermore, but a billion more confusing contradictive prophetics read dislexyic aross the open door, a room filled by shallows and a few tricks, its those surroundings that bred my fellowships, no road ahead i needed help paving yellow bricks, but could never get by disregarding my own selfishness, so i stand, well honestly, i stand alone, a few stood by as i raised an inconsistent zone, eventual dwidling leaves plauged impressions i am what i own, its no secret with losses tallyed twas me whom were boned, missles targeted honed in on future projects, i loaned dreams topped crunchy sprinkled with proper logic, although non was interpreted even close to proper topic, so now im losing races not started but to late to stop it, and its tropics swooning me from realitys grasp, the sole cause to this inherent mental lapse, the greener grass merely houses the asps, but they are much stronger than those ive strangled in my past, so if i stop to shake the trees rocking boats, ill end up covered in leaves sinking in the moat, drowning in your wallowed sorrows to dense to float, but if i stick to me worry free, i might not need a coat. c4x-its been longer treks leading free, ill be ok if i stick to me years wasted give hindsight viewings at lunch, standing close by foresighting the proper clock to punch, ignoring popular icons from tom cruise to captain crunch, waiting for the inevitable on whims and a hunch, a choice is given to sacrifice the future schemes, or swallow my pride and hike up my jeans, while forgetting the essence of unkept broken dreams, line up over here for now were gunna start pickin teams, changing scenes like the weather in its seasons, stability is harder to capture then those indicted with treason, its warm in the filliment tho my shadows freezin, from dabbling in sciences that partake in rhyme and reason, my holy grail was spotted left teeming, veiled by popular consensus and party leaning, just so i could carry their chips from schemeing, feeding egos to keep up the charade in awake and asleep dreaming, but its a defense i created to save face playcated, soon its the meter stated learning truths fabricated, my heart was on my sleeve and it faded, now privy to unknown past information my soul remains jaded, on the day after i made it when i turn to see you on your knees, ill take a second pause time out freeze, see its been longer treks that were leading free, and i will be ok if i can only stick to me. c4x-its been longer treks leading free, ill be ok if i stick to me has been disrupted -1- *communication*

its still life [25 Jan 2005|10:33pm] [ mood | off the motherfucking meter ] [ music | aesop rock - water ] c2x-no matter what it might be, its still life day and nightly its the day at the break of dawn, its the way my fates been drawn, its retracing paces only to fumble races across the lawn, its my homage left shackled to the floor, its the stopage of dreams my world cant endure, its the rhyme its the meter, its the shoes walking my feet right out the door, maybe the rainbows ive never seen finished, or the day breaks ive seen slowly dimish, maybe the winners that labeled me a quitter loser loner tin fish, it couldve been the drugs, or a stereotype of thug, it couldve been the fact my cynacism replaced the hugs, possibly the halos so terribly misplaced, or the horns worn without disgrace, possibly it was the fool me once philosophy smacked in the face, it was the prophetic intentions, it was the emotions i neglected to mention, it was the suicide attempts that never proved fatal increasing tension, its the air smog pollution breathed, its the rare foggy sollution conceived, its everytime i sat down to try i felt i was never properly recieved, its the gray parading frowns, its the lack luster of the towns, its the endlessness im surrounded with shattered hopes holding me down c2x-no matter what it might be, its still life day and nightly its the stars shinning brightly its the moon looming politely, its regretting the change of the sky being the limit rightly, its the reality of the gravity, its the gravity of the complacency, its the absentee still counted lowely in all agencies, its the waves the water, it was somebody elses daughter, its leading me on and caught her plugging cattle to the slaughter, it might be no parking signs, it might be broken lazy rhymes, it might be paper cuts from fucking up so many times, its streetlights decorated with shoes, its good only preceeding bad news, its the blues from having to lose then realizing thats nothing new, the spokes lined with baseball cards, the jokes pined with fateful regards, the folks grind for hourly wages writting pages for retards, its the predators on the prowl, its the night owls left to howl its the roamers harping groaners that threw in the towel, its covered wagons in periphials, its the dragons constrewed in visuals, its percieving all instances of life inconsistant left dismal, its being happy high, its dreaming sappy lies, it hoping that someday maybe i can finally achieve save tries. c2x-no matter what it might be, its still life day and nightly has been disrupted -3- *communication*

the ryanism monolouges [22 Jan 2005|02:31pm] [ mood | as the world comes dwn on me ] [ music | living legends - night prowler ] tis the dawn of a new year, the beginning of new ages, breeding the effortless animocity, harboring foul attitudes contageous, wrapped up in disregarded hopes, which fell to the prevalancy of jobs and low wages, written in the pages, written on the stars, tattooed on the forheads and spoke about in bars, a change is needed its welcomed forth, enlightened to the blindness that some would contort, a shell with no soul has ventured onward, from the years of emotions that remained ever harbored, but no less and boastless ill protest and manifest masticate and digest the incest of bad intentions progress. loveless lifeless soulless hopeless, keep moving forward, vailed from nights dress, your in it for you, with no one to impress. so its a new year, its a new beginning, or the ending of former bad starts, or just another year, whichever way you wanna look at it, whatever floats your tugboat. i anxiously await the trials and tribulations that this year shall present henceforth, thereas, and whatnot. tired of living on the edge of anticipation for something to go wrong, lifes to short to play that card everyday. might as well try to enjoy what ive got for while ive got it, cuz what if this is as good as it gets? what if the eternity we look to escape toward is merely an exageration of hopeful mindstates, that holds nothing true and sacred to the reality were so unprepared to face? there are many unanswered questions, so much i long to know, but feel that only when it no longer matters will the answer be clear enough to view. nevertheless we trek forth, onwards and upwards, godspeed, and good luck, to you and yours. ill be trying, or at least resembling trying for the sake of discontinuing the lying to my ego and all the times spent regretting rewinding, focusing on the past gets you nowhere fast. so to you reader, i say this, keep on fucking truckin, the pathetic demeanor held by counting your chickens before they make breakfast. live like your trapped in a glass house, throw stones, sink ships, and question everything. this has been the first installment of the ryanism monolouges, let all that marinate and try to fix your life accordingly, or dont. your choice, whatevers your cup of joe. but realize, by knowing everything, i am compelled to share knowledge, and wisdom that i contracieve. thankyou. has been disrupted -4- *communication*

so many things [16 Dec 2004|09:06pm] [ mood | i aint got nothin to save ] [ music | aesop rock & mf doom - dust storm ] i walk miles stalk styles for a chance at whats sightly, fighting trials and half forced smiles for whats screwed on to tightliy, its hard to capture perfection when the day breaks nightly, its harder easing pretentions if i cant say fuck you politely, so many things rightly aggrivating the sound, vibration intense pulsing whence crashing into the ground, confused from pondering wandering so many towns, deviated social norms hiding in the lost and found, pound for pound its charged grimace denominations, round and round its spun surface interpretations, pushed limits past all sense of intimidation, a personality mogel plugging overtime with professional observations, addicted to integration of popular civility, yet conflicted restricted to remorse fed humility, heres a aptitude test to reasses your undeveloped ability, but really clues to unlock reason behind seniality, and its so many things, so many dreams immaturity brings, so many times opportunity rings, but so many deaths passed left view stress impressed with blissful wings general consensus eager to spew propheletic opinions, restrained at gun point by trigger happy minions, never before targeted or trained in dominions, but every day they show up willingly alined eager omit one, lapsing judgements are the only psycho analysis paved, contracting punishment amoungst brain celss engraved, reuniting liars with said pants on fire but legs shaved, for anti socialism conforming join today and the fee is waived, t is for tame teedious and treachorusly turbulant, emotionally empty egotistically empathetic urban spent, a domestic demeanor crashing through the curb and fence, igniting american dreamers with bombs made from coffee creamers is sure intense, the common nonsense afflicted to the regulars in lifes bar, labled alcoholics for keeping drinks hidden in the car, women with lipstick and cigarette tips thatve been rode to far, left in the cold out cast alone like most of us seemingly are and its so many things, so many dreams immaturity brings, so many times opportunity rings, but so many deaths passed left view stress impressed with blissful wings its exhausted love warrenting these harborded crushed emotions, but as empty as empty goes theres always reserve, sugarcoated acuality to ease down the notions, but disgruntled from naeusia temptly flows the natural perserves, x rays radio waves sonic infringement absorbed from the idiot box, x rated plays subterain logic derangement distorted by some type of small pox, bagels and lox birthed by siamese septuplets, 5 to push one to breath and one to keep sanity laid up with, and its so many things, so many dreams immaturity brings, so many times opportunity rings, but so many deaths passed left view stress impressed with blissful wings, but so many screams shattering inner ear drum beats, so many fears taunting the sinner peer dumb deeds, so many tears hintering visions of great feats, so many things leave kept surveying life from the nose bleed seats its just so many things, so many many things i cant explain, so for now and ever on ill float here spontaniously abscured to maintain. has been disrupted -4- *communication*

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