musings

Pseudo-Rich Life

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It’s 8 PM.

I’m bored and wanna go out. I anxiously approach the closet to pick out fashionable attires and open it, a gay midget jumps at me and claws my face!

I punch his tiny dick and kick him out a window. It’s a 7 story fall. I proceed and carefully pick out a fashionable attire since I am going out for some fine dining.

I put on a polo shirt, Clarks shoes and blue jeans.

Me and my homie roll out to the restaurant owned by a lame B-list TV chef. His food is good.

On the way there, I see a weesh nerd with low muscle mass and a mask.

I yell homophobic insults towards him and bully him. He flips me off timidly and runs away. We laugh.

Pull up to the spot.

Eat fine ass lamb fillets.

Smoke Cuban cigars.

Done and done. We major.

We leave at 1 AM and tip the waiter decently. He is happy.

Now it’s the AM, time to harass hot women online and ignore horny girls in the DM until they send me nudes. Can’t sleep. Still hungry.

Dean Martin time.

Got blocked twice but there’s an alluring Russian. Hm.

Kitten Ballad

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As heavy smoking wrecks havoc on my lungs, I reminisce on the potential lovers I pissed off and pissed on before I gave them the chance to wrap their pretty pink lips around my somewhat thick drum stick.

For I am God’s gift to women, the man who can do no wrong while spiraling out of control in a whirlwind of chaos and tits.

While I legitimately enjoy the prospect of no holds barred sex with the whores of Instagram, my biggest turn on is a nice and wholesome brunette who cooks me breakfast and loves me. Shocking isn’t it? I am aware.

I’m so bloody young and I’m already yearning for love. Fucking disgraceful. Where did it go wrong? Too much TV.

My biological imperative guides me to ejaculate and evacuate but even if I do that, why can’t I have both worlds?

When will the Lord give me a sexually depraved jezabel with a hint of elegance who will die for me and is mentally ill but also a good partner lacking toxic traits? Yeah, I know. Stupid.

A man can dream. Even if he does not sleep. Ever.

Groupie Love

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Ah, groupies..

A staple part of the iconic rock n’ roll mythos.

What is it that compels young nubile women to leave it all and run off with degenerate guitar playing junkies who sound good on vinyl?

It’s interesting really. They say goodbye to school and hit the road with some larger than life jerkoff that’s drowning in a sea of meaningless pussy just to be another pretty face in the harem.

They spend all day giving fellatio to the gang and rambling about their hopes and dreams to a man who pretends he gives a fuck who just wants ass.

She is in love, the rocker is her entire world. And he.. well, his ego is in love. He likes her very much, but his ego.. his ego is infatuated.

He feels so good. This girl wants his babies, obeys his every word and is a grade A lay. She will cut her wrist if he says so, goddamn.

So much power over her. He loves her. Sort of. Does he though? He writes songs about her, she fuels his creativity, he loves life when she’s around.. but what happens when she nags.. or her insecurity becomes too toxic?

He cares for her, but how much longer can the show go on? I am not a rockstar. I can sure as hell relate though.

Just a little bit. A bit too much.

As We Move Towards New World Order

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As the moon shines down on me and I walk through these empty streets in this state of emergency, I feel no sense of urgency.

Toilet paper supply is gone and the people are running scared.

Propaganda spooking people on Channel 12, people dying.

Housewives crying.

Rights are trampled yet again in the name of “security” and it feels like no one ever remembers our history.

But I don’t care.

I dwelled on the negatives and became bitter like Avi, I was so fucking sour like Wasabi.

But that’s how the wretched win. If we let some scumbag bugmen who mass engineer plagues in a lab as tools of anarchy get to our state of being. If we let them dim our light.

Not gonna let them do it. I will stay unaffected by this overhyped catastrophe.

Remain young and full of joy, with no care in the world. Making the best out of a shitty situation. Doing something I haven’t done in ages.

I will defy quarantine. I will roam nature.

The cool wind in my face and that spring weather hitting me like a speeding car. The world isn’t ending. Not for me.

I will continue to enrich mind, spirit and body and steer clear of the wicked.

I will feed ducks in the park!

I had a great reminder that despite all of Satan’s influence on this world, God’s purity still watches over us and no matter how much the House of The Devil tries to bring us down, we can win everytime if we keep the flames alive.

If you take care of your family, you will win.

If you remain with your brothers, you will win.

As long as you still raise your children in the side of light, you will win.

Everyone is going to sleep, but we are still awake.

No one can ever end The Enlightened as long as fire burns in our heart.

May Jesus bless you.

May Allah bless you.

May Elohim the God above bless you.

We aren’t done here. Don’t lose hope.

Still Dreaming

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I want to lay down under a warm summer sun while gazing at the clouds, a joint in one hand and a book in the other. Complimented by loud 80s music (preferably Phil Collins), a delicate female lover by my side and flocks of birds flying over my head.

I want a secluded wooden cabin where I can quietly sip my pea protein shake and discuss Nietzsches philosophy with a hazel haired beauty that has a penchant for getting lovingly choked.

I want children to reject consumerism and embrace physical culture. I want my little brothers to hunt more snails instead of playing FIFA. I want my cousins to do pull ups, not eat soy and learn some Muay Thai.

I want society to truly allow people to be themselves instead of saying it’s okay and then vilifying them at the first sign of trouble.

I want governments to not be ran by malicious reptilians who assassinate critics and help old creeps kidnap children.

I want to be able to sleep at night.

I want to make it past 21.

Dreaming.

3:30 AM.

Still dreaming.

Forever dreaming.