climbing up the walls the light of murder. it tends to burn the mornings cold. where do my a.m.’s go- my mournings become the wrong side of beds. sheets are spread with familiar upsets. dreams- find victim inside irises, naked eyes become bloodshot dead.

I’m starting to go to late p.m.’s with the lights on. I’m, starting to be afraid of my own decisions. I’m beginning to see an odd to the evens. the ever(s) to the never(s).

the limou(sin)es here.

accustomed- to the acts. customs and courtesies. court rules the current- mainstream. costumes of the culprit. conscious unacknowledged. censored colleges. collage of consensus. the cents make for pity change to the begging. nonsense becomes accepted.

accustom(s). a costume for the privileged.

Do I limit my ‘book’ to have a medium between challenged minds and the common mind- or should I simply allow myself to openly express.

I want the knowledge to spread, but I understand (just as on here) it’ll only go to bed with those whom have a mindset. As if the ‘book’ is exclusive to those who like mindsex. Hmm maybe I should do that, bring a cute coffee couple together because they want to discuss a book. What does this mean, maybe it doesn’t mean anything. Mindfuck each other without even knowing. Motherfucking Cupid from the Past, shooting arrows into laps.

Never run back.
Those ever wonder/wander forths.
Nothing will be beautiful between us.
The end of a good note, is knowing possibilities.
Accept the excepts.
Between us, it was beautiful.
Leave it. At. That.

Alllllll that creativity. All that gentlemen’s class act. All of that gym, cooking, and humor. All of that hygienic, independent, romantic gesture and a mouthpiece to boot. I can fuck her mind and I can cater her bod.

25 years old, and yet I DONT know how to handle or react to a woman’s heart.

We are flawed. There are mistakes unforgivable but there are also mistakes that’s simply- human(e) error. It’s not someone’s fault- their features: born with; their actual health, they can better. Some people aren’t fortunate enough to learn to raise themselves or raised with freedom of mind, most comfortable with their conditioning. Others are lucky enough to have the heaven’s blessing, and some of us more familiar with the sins, cos(ts), and tans. We’ve all been accustomed to the blame and to point fingers. Circumstances- they say a picture is worth a thousand words, it’s upsetting we only choose certain perspectives. Everyone wants to act world police, but no one’s willing to do the work themselves. We’ve become: birds of a feather, simply put, birds of prey. Pigeons and Vultures. It’s a cultural stigmatism. And I’m one of them, brought up by what I’m familiar with- take what I believe is the best course of action or reaction. Jealous of those raised humble and not cynical. There I go, blaming. So, I keep running away. Different friends, different countries, different families, different faces- hoping I can grow. I always felt showing you’re a good person meant you were weak. That’s what I was used to, kind parents find betrayal or usage. I don’t want to make the same mistake. But those kind parents had a firm hand. I’m not a good person, put it that way, all I have are good intentions. I intend to do good, but I’m pretty bad with making a voice of opinion. Before you judge, judge your own judgments. You are your only witness, your own guilt. Ignorance = Ignore(Rants). -I keep forgetting my own lessons. We live, in my opinion, one of the most evolved generations, we’ve come far from segregation, prejudice, it doesn’t mean we’re there yet. What we are today wouldn’t be allowed a decade ago. The bad apples and characters are reminders of what we should or shouldn’t be, we are an approval generation. Acknowledgement isn’t knowledge. It’s (l)ack-knowledge. | (It this was Microsoft Word, that vertical line would still be blinking, waiting for me to write more, but why else say anything else-)

would you like to read a preview of my book(s)? (the first like 12 pages of each- and give a honest, down and dirty, no holds bar critique-

Book #1: The Manual. 

A book basically for the lessons I’ve learned that I honestly I can pass on to my nephews and nieces, because I know I won’t be there to teach them. I wrote it because my sisters’ sacrificed their freedoms unknowingly to allow me the freedom to experience, travel, earn, and learn. 

Book #2: MindSex
A collection of pieces. This one only has one explanation, the first page. The book is meant to be tattered and fucked with. To learn and to challenge it. I wrote it in a way to learn from and challenge my own mind. It’s the idea that sex sells; but i’d rather be mindfucked than- just read. haha. 

Book #3: MDHC
This book, I’ve been debating its direction. 
Two concepts i’m debating on directing it. 
my book of gentlemenliness or simply a man’s unfiltered mind. 

i could write a song -of you; but what- kind a writer would I be. if my words could and would be rehearsed as if without rhythm or rhyme. what would these modern poems mean if they can place any face to it’s muse; it’s use abused by: it’s pen. so lend me some respect for me to show you with kind. I could- write a song -for you; but what kind of song would it be if everyone tunes to the same tune you’d hope was toned for you- a mood you’d find intruding to you as: muse.

excuse me. accuse me. cuss me out. and peruse me. abuse and refuse me. then come back around, surround and downtown me. play house. i’ll be: stay at home dad. role play. and made/maid me. cleanse your disobedience. vulgar and filthy. use- the words: fuck me, pussy, dick, lick and suck. gooood luck me. challenge knees. pull my hair. massage my face. legs mounted on lips. embrace. hips. chase my heart into first place. I want seconds, thirds, fourths, you today, tomorrow into the next. cum my name in between your legs you scream it with your head rolled back for days. fucking into tomorrow you thought it was yesterday

kaylebleechan:

i’d make love to you in your body language

now take that phrase, first look at: body language. language is conversation, communication, it is a series of sentences. life sentences. language, is usually textual. so what if language is spoken- through the body? what are the phrases, what are the words, how do you read, how do you write? that’s what should be inside your imaginations. the language of body. now we’re going to go into specifics. make love. it could be two of two things. to lay someone down, love you down. it is the conversation between two bodies. but what it is is:. make love. how do you make- love? …without instructions. there are no rules or regulations. there aren’t any steps. that’s the beauty of it. to make love- to you, in your, YOUR, body language. because like with every language, i could ask you simply to teach me the worst words, the curse words, the most inappropriate, but no. i’m asking you to teach me, teach me- you. how your collar bones smile when my lips are on your neck. how, right below your navel, the sensitive giggles they get when my fingertips talk to thighs. i want to learn your slang, your dialect, your- native tongues, and make our own phrases. simply put: 

i’d make love to you in your body language

The basic, and current map of things: get educated, build a career, meet someone, settle somewhere, build a family, retire to die- or- retire to travel, watch your offspring spring another repeat.

That scares me.
I want to travel and see the world before I decide WHERE i want to live, let alone “settle”. I want to learn and learn, to decide what it is i want to do- which is learn everything I can. And I don’t want to do what comes easy to me, I want to work hard, because that falls in line with work ethics which bleeds into your everyday actions. (Reference to a Bruce Lee quote.) Yet I don’t care for money but yes, i understand it’s what moves you forward. It’s what spends time- and pays attention. Time to travel, attention to studies. I wish, wish we were born with the basic knowledge of all things, to understand the workings around us and see where we truly fit, versus- shoot for the stars- and just pick. Yet, maybe its just everyone else that knows what they want to do the moment they do it. I do it, and I want to know who- who, what, when? Okay so where why and how oh and it relates to this. And this, but it correlates to this but contradicts this. Wait, I’m learning something new now different from what I was learning. Fuck. And yeahs- I know, its called an existential crisis, that’s whats it called BUT not what it is. I know what I want to do- travel and learn, but I also want to pay my dues. Be able to give back, contribute. I don’t care for discovering something new, unless it’ll better the world, I want to discover things I haven’t the opportunity to experience- morale compass included. I want to work a million occupations, I wish there was some form of job rotation. Hey you’ve never tried or learn this, here you go, okay you’re quite natural at this, hmm, try this. Like some people, have the potential to be Hollywood, others’ leaders, and some shouldnt be where their at- but their paths are paved. It’s a dream, if we can “rotate”. I want to be a doctor one day, an athlete the next, a janitor tomorrow, a warrior yesterday. I want to know what I can be natural at and what I struggle with. I want to travel and learn things, live occupations, but the problem: how do you eat, where do you sleep, how will regulate your hygiene, how will you share that self with one, most of all, how will you pay for all of it.

Yeahs, its not an existential crisis, it’s money.

Maybe I should care about it. Sacrifice years, so I can spend a ‘few’ doing what I actually want. But traveling takes years, you travel to learn culture, try foods, meet people, speak a different tongue, live a different understanding. Learning takes discipline and to be studious, included the six questions. Who what when where why and how. The conjunctions: and but because. Occupation is nearly impossible without the second, learning, and repeating, well there’s on the job training, but whose going to risk hiring a risk taker. You can’t certifity: quick learner, character, and work ethic. On a side note: then there’s adult, or folks older than me telling me what I should be, what I should do, what each of them would do differently. If only not differently but we can learn to a point where we “wished we could’ve done it this way” then given the opportunity. But it’s not like that. It’s a world full of regret and fool of regret and blind to it.

It’s scares me.

Even if I’ll live that life learning, traveling, I won’t have learned everything and traveled everywhere. Even if I accomplish what I want to settle doing, I’ll have spent years on trial and error. There’s no medium. And I’ve already spent 25…

I want to write a collaborative book of different perspectives regarding ‘Young Love’, titled:

'Young Love.

Love,
Young.”

A lesson moreover that I wished I was taught or to be well aware of while I myself was young. They won’t listen, they never will, because i didnt; but those lessons that i ignored saved me when i was ignored. And The ill of this very saying “follow your heart” has been misinterpreted into the very/vary destruction of ‘personal’ evolution.

The very first lesson:
“Why go through all these emotions, just to ‘feel’ one: love(d)”
Then maybe short and sound rebuttals and/or agreements from others.

A collective who can look back and make their experiences lessons from the past, that they live present, and help make decisions for the future. Because whose to say one perspective is the sole perspective. This might be a good or bad idea.

she drinks a cup full of jealous. loves to- stand in a crowd of: 9 to 5’s. she eats off a plate of vengeance. the- leftovers. "when are you going to grow- up!?"she points the accusation at everyone else. - this bitch. she drinks a cup full of envious. turned the age of twenty-five. 
don’t understand why she hasn’t aged from the age of sixteen. it’s like she still wears ‘forever 21’. it’s like she still wears forever-21. 

she drinks a cup full of jealous
loves to- stand in a crowd of: 9 to 5’s
she eats off a plate of vengeance.
the- leftovers

"when are you going to grow- up!?"

she points the accusation at everyone else. 
- this bitch
she drinks a cup full of envious. 
turned the age of twenty-five. 

don’t understand why she hasn’t aged
from the age of sixteen.
it’s like she still wears ‘forever 21’. 
it’s like she still wears forever-21. 

those are difficult lips
and a road; i want to lead home. 
the kind of smile with kind eases
but the stress of you not wanting anything to do nothing with-
something without. 
you know me well, but it’s not like you care to know me- ill
what. the. hell. 

- kayleb