tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61129612577688792532024-03-05T05:36:01.593-08:00Relevant MotionUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger146125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6112961257768879253.post-37838061442585870302012-08-05T14:11:00.000-07:002012-08-05T14:11:00.510-07:00Future Past<br />
<div class="p1">
We are always living in the past of an unwritten future.</div>
<div class="p1">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
-RTB</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6112961257768879253.post-81076346977727422652012-08-02T19:48:00.000-07:002012-08-02T19:48:06.212-07:00DreamIf you don't have ridiculous dreams you'll never have realistic results.<br />
<br />
-RTBUnknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6112961257768879253.post-80722192694343690472012-07-31T13:19:00.000-07:002012-07-31T13:19:00.159-07:00Not Yet<br />
<div class="p1">
Because I’m not ready</div>
<div class="p2">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
You’re not ready</div>
<div class="p2">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
It hurts</div>
<div class="p2">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
The way frustration hurts</div>
<div class="p2">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
The way sadness informs</div>
<div class="p2">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
Subterranean and dark</div>
<div class="p2">
<br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
Did you feel good when you woke up</div>
<div class="p2">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
that you spoke up</div>
<div class="p2">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
that you vented</div>
<div class="p2">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
That you told me why</div>
<div class="p2">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
The why matters</div>
<div class="p2">
<br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
My fingertips still trace paths</div>
<div class="p2">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
And my heart still remembers rhythm</div>
<div class="p2">
<br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
I feel it and I felt it</div>
<div class="p2">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
hanging onto it</div>
<div class="p2">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
but just barely</div>
<div class="p2">
<br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
the way water runs off a peach</div>
<div class="p2">
<br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
-RTB</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6112961257768879253.post-88863662421582748722012-07-26T12:48:00.000-07:002012-07-26T12:48:00.562-07:0079 Words<br />
<div class="p1">
He sang to her. Willingly if not lovingly. Or vice versa. She didn't cry though she could have. The tears standing at the ready. Eye muscles prepared to work from memory if not from need. If they loved each other they would stay that way forever. But forever wasn't their problem. Theirs was very much an issue of now. But neither would let the other exist there.</div>
<div class="p1">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
-RTB</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6112961257768879253.post-59781476554538560672012-07-24T12:46:00.003-07:002012-07-24T12:46:50.633-07:0075 Words<br />
<div class="p1">
He sank into his chair like an oreo into hot pudding. He heard them laughing, crying out his name in between theirs gasps for breath. He sank lower. His eyes shut of their own unencouraged ambition and he pressed his teeth against each other as though to make diamonds. He held his breath without realizing it and then opened his eyes to the empty room. They had left, if they'd ever been there at all.</div>
<div class="p1">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
-RTB</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6112961257768879253.post-32414614797308090032012-04-02T18:51:00.002-07:002012-07-24T12:49:11.810-07:00The BattleHalf the battle is not finding the right answers, but finding the right questions.<br />
<br />
-RTBUnknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6112961257768879253.post-549049512310764982012-03-21T16:47:00.000-07:002012-03-21T16:47:00.681-07:00Creativity<br />
<div class="p1">
</div>
<div class="p1">
Creativity for me was like a thread that hung off my sleeve for the first 25 years of my life. It was always there. Tickling me. Letting me know it was there. But it wasn't until I tugged on it that I realized I would never be able to stop.</div>
<div class="p1">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
- RTB</div>
<div class="p2">
<br /></div>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6112961257768879253.post-42413390697155627002012-03-17T16:37:00.000-07:002012-03-17T16:37:00.587-07:00It Begins<br />
<div class="p1">
I'm thickening my skin</div>
<div class="p1">
Building my armor </div>
<div class="p1">
Plates of steel and iron</div>
<div class="p1">
Coating myself against it all</div>
<div class="p1">
Protected defended</div>
<div class="p1">
Impenetrable</div>
<div class="p2">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
No</div>
<div class="p1">
too much</div>
<div class="p1">
I won't feel anything</div>
<div class="p1">
no point</div>
<div class="p1">
No sensation at all</div>
<div class="p2">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
So I am thickening my skin</div>
<div class="p1">
With leathers and pelts</div>
<div class="p1">
stronger skins than mine</div>
<div class="p1">
Tied closely fitting snugly over me</div>
<div class="p1">
a newer better improved me</div>
<div class="p2">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
But still yet</div>
<div class="p1">
I won't be able to move or stretch</div>
<div class="p1">
Bend or flex </div>
<div class="p1">
an immobile version of myself </div>
<div class="p1">
I won't even be myself</div>
<div class="p2">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
So I am thickening my skin</div>
<div class="p1">
Though I am not quite sure how</div>
<div class="p1">
I will think it thick</div>
<div class="p1">
Imagine it tougher</div>
<div class="p1">
Make it what it needs to be</div>
<div class="p1">
What I need it to be</div>
<div class="p1">
Want it to be </div>
<div class="p1">
For me to be</div>
<div class="p1">
Who I want to be.</div>
<div class="p1">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
-RTB</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6112961257768879253.post-87037089918139679732012-03-13T16:36:00.002-07:002012-03-13T16:37:08.071-07:00rich Rich poor Rich<br />
<div class="p1">
Though affluent with her love</div>
<div class="p1">
I felt hollowed out and muggy</div>
<div class="p1">
Her love around me</div>
<div class="p1">
Rising up in me</div>
<div class="p1">
Dense</div>
<div class="p1">
And cloudy</div>
<div class="p1">
Like a haunting in my chest</div>
<div class="p1">
Like a memory with a scratch in it that won't stop skipping</div>
<div class="p1">
The same line over and over again.</div>
<div class="p1">
Like a mint that was made of razors</div>
<div class="p1">
Like an orgasm made of possiblies</div>
<div class="p1">
Like a sweetness born of acid rain</div>
<div class="p1">
Like a smile born of apathy</div>
<div class="p2">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
Like tears made of gravel</div>
<div class="p1">
Like sadness made of honey</div>
<div class="p1">
Like a maybe made of definitely</div>
<div class="p1">
Like a definitely made of never</div>
<div class="p3">
Like the love we made together</div>
<div class="p3">
Like the sex we never had</div>
<div class="p1">
Like the sex we made together</div>
<div class="p1">
Like the love we never had</div>
<div class="p1">
Like the pot you smoked that I didn't</div>
<div class="p1">
Like the fear I inhaled that you hadn't</div>
<div class="p1">
Like an insecurity built in Roman times</div>
<div class="p1">
Like a seasonal laughter's end</div>
<div class="p1">
Like a fire carved in yesterday</div>
<div class="p1">
Like a bitterness carved in stone</div>
<div class="p1">
These memories are my albatross</div>
<div class="p1">
These memories haunt me endlessly</div>
<div class="p1">
And they won't leave me alone.</div>
<div class="p2">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
-RTB</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6112961257768879253.post-38796495353712999422012-01-16T09:24:00.000-08:002012-03-19T18:41:12.808-07:00Come to Connecticut<style>
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</style> <br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ve been invited to share my thoughts on things</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Me, a master of singularity and unpurchased rings</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But what I have to offer is written in sand</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m a boy, a man, a mixture of things I don’t quite yet understand</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And yet I speak louder than some, much louder than most</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But I fear prostheltizing and shy just short of boast</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I forget more than I remember</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And I cling to my summers well past September</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And if I’m self fulfilling my prophecy</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then I’ll have to take more than partial responsibility</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For allowing myself to posture and plead</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For the things I know I think I need</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When I’m quite sure I’m already in possession of all my tools</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And should relinquish my captainship on this ship of fools</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And I’ll avoid giving a life lesson</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Aphoristic Metaphorical pseudo musings full of cognitive indigestion<br />
<br />
-RTB</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6112961257768879253.post-73098952525114907312012-01-03T11:45:00.001-08:002012-03-19T18:41:23.586-07:00NuanceNuance is what makes actors great and people interesting.<br />
<br />
-RTBUnknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6112961257768879253.post-41644762301791047252011-11-22T09:54:00.001-08:002012-03-19T18:41:33.150-07:00DoI think I've found my voice I just haven't found my song.<br />
<br />
-RTBUnknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6112961257768879253.post-20796853193609405092011-10-26T19:35:00.001-07:002012-03-19T18:41:41.943-07:00Gabby Had a Bad DayAnd the things we thought could harm us<br />
And the things that brought us down<br />
And the people that walked over us<br />
And those things that burned our souls<br />
They fade much like fog does<br />
Leaving things clearer once gone<br />
<br />
-RTBUnknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6112961257768879253.post-79541973600698470632011-09-29T22:02:00.000-07:002012-03-19T18:41:51.170-07:0010 New Band NamesConcentrated Irony<br />
<br />
Elevated FUPA<br />
<br />
Drivel difficulties<br />
<br />
The Silent Scrunchie<br />
<br />
Drunk and Pugless<br />
<br />
Beard Nutrients<br />
<br />
Wild Gesticulations<br />
<br />
Angry Pete and the Dick Pains<br />
<br />
Sport Kilt<br />
<br />
Tochi's Night Out<br />
<br />
-RTBUnknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6112961257768879253.post-55960130350658228832011-09-25T19:00:00.000-07:002011-09-25T19:00:00.646-07:00RevelThere is a pride we savior in wallowing in our own unique sorrow. A rhythm. A deliciousness to it that we revel in. That secretly or not so, we crave. We want to have adverse reactions to our old love songs, cautiously avoid the paths we used to trod through whatever city. We want to put distance between re-experiencing those memories and emotions. We want our heart to whither as we think about those songs. We want it to be toxic illegal awfality.<br />
<br />
-RTB Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6112961257768879253.post-43420035774510551112011-09-22T18:57:00.000-07:002011-09-22T18:57:07.246-07:00Because I have a deadlineAnd its rising<br />
Like a hot air balloon<br />
Full of cold insecurity<br />
An unchained melody<br />
Sitting in a gasless car<br />
And I'm paralyzed<br />
paralytics<br />
Analytic<br />
And stuck inside myself<br />
<br />
Like cement for blood<br />
Like fog for breath<br />
An unbeating heart<br />
glued to the inside of my chest<br />
<br />
Palpitated resurgencies<br />
And unforgettable fears<br />
Always rising<br />
The fastest slowest march of madness<br />
And a pressure on both sides of my chest<br />
<br />
A violence of memory<br />
And incomparable fear<br />
Fed and starved<br />
Watered and withheld<br />
And all without my control<br />
And all without control<br />
<br />
Like a muscle that can't flex<br />
And a tear that won't fall<br />
A fall that won't arrive<br />
An exhale stuck in transit<br />
<br />
An inhallation<br />
A kept inhallation<br />
remaining<br />
stuck<br />
trapped<br />
contained<br />
<br />
and killing<br />
killing without force<br />
and leaving me nowhere<br />
without leaving me at all<br />
<br />
-RTB <br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6112961257768879253.post-76017059542801821472011-08-07T07:08:00.000-07:002011-08-07T07:08:07.877-07:00Deception<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk3Tect8Ck_lrtN5QVonjjhEesKlQZmfO-yC3xDUpa3lFTLr-hOWf5qanzal9e_sPJFjdbUU7SXZOrtYEol0anLyunZ1mAOkJLs2qgfblhN_YDXYrJXF1lSrXuTQ9aK04OVRpd3AE-QBA/s1600/Deception.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="230" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk3Tect8Ck_lrtN5QVonjjhEesKlQZmfO-yC3xDUpa3lFTLr-hOWf5qanzal9e_sPJFjdbUU7SXZOrtYEol0anLyunZ1mAOkJLs2qgfblhN_YDXYrJXF1lSrXuTQ9aK04OVRpd3AE-QBA/s400/Deception.bmp" width="400" /></a></div><br />
This one is about how I seem to fit in to the rest of the crowd yet inside I really feel like I have nothing to offer. If anybody had actually seen this I might have ended up in therapy a lot sooner. Created August 10, 1999.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6112961257768879253.post-90384495142790902642011-08-06T14:07:00.000-07:002011-08-06T14:07:22.009-07:00New York CityWhen you love this city the raindrops never hit the ground, and when you don't... well, it seems impossible to sidestep the puddles.<br />
<br />
-RTBUnknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6112961257768879253.post-87904025087290523082011-07-26T15:27:00.000-07:002011-08-14T15:53:52.889-07:00I Dreamed a Dreamhe thought the thoughts he'd always thought he'd think<br />
and though the things he thought were quite the same as always<br />
the way he saw it happening had changed<br />
<br />
because he'd never really thought through his fantasy<br />
his fantasy was a fallacy he'd never seen through to completion<br />
he didn't know how to end it<br />
<br />
so he'd think it through<br />
or so he thought<br />
but he really had only done half the journey<br />
<br />
but when he finally thought his way<br />
all the way through<br />
he found himself thinking something he could never have anticipated<br />
<br />
he wasn't interested in the fantasy anymore<br />
<br />
because of lazy incompletion or self abbreviating deletion<br />
lies he told to himself or imposed upon the universe<br />
the ending was nothing like the beginning<br />
<br />
and while he thought he still liked those thoughts<br />
really<br />
now that he had completed them<br />
they left him feeling quite incomplete<br />
and he couldn't compete with the overwhelming sense of emptiness he felt<br />
<br />
now that his fantasy was throughUnknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6112961257768879253.post-79880294987930460672011-07-21T15:31:00.000-07:002011-07-21T15:31:55.162-07:00And On and OnI've given up on <i>the rest of my life</i><br />
I've figured out I just can't do it<br />
It's too much to think about<br />
Too much to worry<br />
It puts my mind in a constant state of hurry<br />
And that's no way to live<br />
In fact<br />
Its a good way to die<br />
And nobody should be thinking about a good way to die<br />
Unless they're about to<br />
<br />
I've given up on the <i>the rest of my life</i><br />
Because its making my insides hurt<br />
Thinking too much about the future<br />
Is like thinking about too much about the past<br />
It makes you miss the present<br />
So if I worried about <i>the rest of my life</i><br />
For the rest of my life<br />
I'd have no life left to live<br />
I would only worry about a good way to die<br />
Because I'd be there<br />
<br />
I've given up worrying about <i>the rest of my life</i><br />
Because it hasn't gotten me anywhere<br />
<br />
-RTB <br />
<i></i>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6112961257768879253.post-47496755229572851062011-07-08T18:32:00.001-07:002011-07-08T18:33:24.048-07:00InformationIt's easier to be afraid than informed.<br />
<br />
- RTBUnknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6112961257768879253.post-12989876875680898802011-07-04T06:59:00.000-07:002011-07-04T06:59:32.128-07:00Stutter StartI'm timing my haircuts<br />
Around breakups<br />
Self inflicted<br />
Emotional Hiccups<br />
<br />
Be it a fuckup<br />
A loved one<br />
Be it my fault<br />
What I've done<br />
I'm starting myself a new<br />
The only way I know how to<br />
<br />
A visceral emotional purging<br />
Or just a painful manifestation<br />
A latent insecurity surging<br />
An emptying of mind and feeling<br />
Hitting my maturation ceiling<br />
<br />
I''ll change my look<br />
I'll change how I see<br />
I'll change so hard<br />
I'll barely be me<br />
I'll work on the edifice<br />
What's easier to do<br />
Easier than getting past, over, or beyond<br />
You<br />
<br />
Lost weight<br />
Faux swagger<br />
An ignored fragility<br />
I'll keep moving faster<br />
Pretending I have something to offer<br />
Not an emotional pauper<br />
Not a shell of a self impressed former self<br />
Pursuing the illusion of fine over health<br />
<br />
And ignored pain<br />
And skipped over tears<br />
Circumnavigated discomfort<br />
As I've done for years<br />
<br />
I'll busy myself<br />
With things that don't matter<br />
Treating myself<br />
As moldable matter<br />
That's lacking a center<br />
That's lacking a core<br />
A soulless self center<br />
That will always need more<br />
<br />
Just furthering along a me<br />
That I no longer need to be<br />
<br />
-RTBUnknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6112961257768879253.post-87441973702389753692011-06-23T16:28:00.001-07:002011-06-23T16:28:59.688-07:00Quality<div class="MsoNormal" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Its not that I need more time to write quality. I need more time to write all the drivel that comes out of me so that I can get to the quality.<u></u></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">-RTB</span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
</span></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6112961257768879253.post-64229066267530492022011-06-19T11:35:00.000-07:002011-06-19T11:35:00.571-07:00Demix the RemixThey say its been<br />
Remixed<br />
and<br />
Reimagined<br />
But is it really<br />
Or is it just<br />
De-imagined<br />
Unimagined<br />
A village of ideas<br />
Just<br />
Feeling Famine<br />
<br />
They say its original<br />
Or<br />
Unbelieve-a-ble<br />
But I don't<br />
Believe that bull<br />
<br />
Because what I see<br />
Just<br />
Doesn't seem new<br />
You,<br />
Redo<br />
Renew<br />
I'm tired<br />
Aren't you?<br />
<br />
What is wrong<br />
With an original piece of content<br />
We're a whole continent<br />
Without consequence<br />
And this lack of new content<br />
Makes me incontinent<br />
<br />
And if you want to<br />
Create then<br />
Create for me<br />
But you've got to think more<br />
Creatively<br />
And if that doesn't make sense then<br />
You can't see<br />
But when you do the same shit so<br />
Lazily<br />
There's no reason for your<br />
Work to be<br />
And if its parody<br />
Or you just parrot me<br />
Or you've ironed on irony<br />
On a pair of tees<br />
And you call that new<br />
Well then your the tease<br />
But don't tear us down<br />
With your snark and sleaze<br />
<br />
And I am not saying its wrong to<br />
Recreate<br />
And I'm not up here<br />
To bitch and hate<br />
Give me a mashup<br />
A mixtape<br />
I'll take what your giving<br />
Just make it<br />
First rate<br />
<br />
And if recreate<br />
Is what you do<br />
You don't need me<br />
To say<br />
That's OK too<br />
I am saying what I have learned<br />
Is that<br />
Old is new<br />
is New<br />
is New<br />
And we're afraid to try<br />
So we just reconsume<br />
And we resume that tune<br />
That we've already consumed<br />
Scratching out the<br />
Same old<br />
Rhythms and Rhymes<br />
100<br />
200<br />
300 times<br />
And its cool that you've<br />
Found a<br />
New way to do it<br />
But if it's<br />
Already been done<br />
Don't<br />
Make me sit through it<br />
<br />
As art is made<br />
With a brand new reason<br />
New fame unfolds<br />
With<br />
Every season<br />
Full of<br />
<i>Tear him down<br />
And take her too</i>Lets<br />
break off branches<br />
Two by two<br />
Because <br />
They don't<br />
Meet you standards<br />
Strand her<br />
Just because<br />
You can stand her<br />
Because you think<br />
She's a faker<br />
And if he sticks out<br />
Well that wont fly<br />
And its all<br />
Condescension<br />
And<br />
Impersonations<br />
Just blog and vlog your<br />
Indignations<br />
And dig nations<br />
Holes to shit in<br />
Spit in<br />
And keep all our artists<br />
Truly hidden<br />
And if you<br />
Say that<br />
You want some more<br />
Put your<br />
Own pedal to floor<br />
I wont you give you more<br />
To pick your bone<br />
And make your home<br />
On what I've made and<br />
You don't know<br />
Because it doesn't matter if I am<br />
8<br />
18<br />
Or 85<br />
Or you're<br />
An impostor wasp<br />
In my<br />
Jumping hive<br />
So please<br />
Demix the remix<br />
Kick this<br />
Overused content fix<br />
And if you're<br />
Looking for some new picks<br />
Well<br />
Pick me<br />
I am all the content you'll ever need<br />
<br />
<br />
-RTBUnknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6112961257768879253.post-66860668070735459732011-04-12T19:04:00.001-07:002011-04-12T19:06:09.770-07:00Always/NeverThere is little perfection in never.<br />
There is less humanity in always than first imagined.<br />
<br />
-RTBUnknownnoreply@blogger.com