i drove down memory lane and the first thoughts i had were that it still smelled the same. i drove past that old house i used to pick up a stranger (to me now) from and how we would act with no gaps between us. ALF visited as well, he walked down memory lane with me too. it made me think of how i first met the stranger, then meeting her closest, then the next thing i could remember were the hours i spent on her just talking. even apart and on our own, still hours spent. she reminded me what its like to have contact with another person. she told me without saying it "you can feel things too. you are capable of affection". i love and miss it. things changed. i changed. she changed. it was ok. it is still ok. i still remember her numbers. im just a scared boy when it comes to actually doing something to get in contact with her. i can still remember her scent like it was yesterday. i can still remember her venom like it was yesterday.

i learned to love. i learned alot from her. i dont think i have anything else to learn. i just owe her a thank you. soon. i know she wont read this, but soon. when i am done feeling afraid of you. you can tell me when its ok.

a prince and a sheriff. a speech artist, a spitting image of the politician of the 1960's without mccarthy. the brightest colored light on the string of lights, the brightest of the same color on another string.

the possibility of history either repeating or reshaping itself. i still feel cheated from years ago, i feel like my civic duty was to lie to myself, lie to everyone, and believe i was making a difference when i saw nothing change. i saw a quitter and a puppet go at it for months. i saw a puppet win. i still see no change in years to come. i still see the fat getting fatter, the old being prolonged on their drugs and stroke and heart attack induced living. the things i wanted to change are still here. some circles are never going to end. some circles become spirals. the squares instill more squares and we walk in single file lines, never cutting the corners. the same death march.

circles are my life now. the shape somehow always overlaps with one part and brings me to another circle to walk. walking new tracks. i find the shape at the same time filled with off ends and malformations. detours. i enjoy. recent experience has brought me in a full cirlce i opened up 5 years ago and closed. now more circles have opened up, but it doesnt change how i feel about anything, doesnt change anything i see. being a rogue and accepting it and finding out what i have to do for now. i guess time is up and i have to blend in for a bit, but i can still be part of the problem while still being one of them. no, this doesnt make me special. im doing what everyone else does. i get that. dont tell me twice. i am still a child of middle history. no purpose or place. no great war. no depression.

while the rest of the world can dance and progress and never find the same 3 shapes we all find and fall in, we sit in our squares. we walk the same blocks. see the same buildings. eat the same food. smell the same streets of piss and vinegar. and here i am, a circle inside of a square. very few circles to be found. i just see straight lines and squares. birth. plague. expire. repeat. circles can grow in size, growing out. squares become longer, become rectangles. become extended. overextended.

do i overextend a red square? do i place a blue square into the construction now? history repeats? history reshapes? who is ready to suffer their consequences and live up to their actions for once? i cant vote on religion. i cant vote on party. i cant vote on collar. i cant vote on money. i cant vote on anything. i will be cheated. i will lie to myself and everyone again. i vowed to never do that anymore, its a way of coping like those dead people do. telling themselves things they want to hear to feel better when its a school glue fix.

the roads get darker. the air is wetter. the air is heavier. the smell of rotting steel, rubber, and sulfur is thicker and nastier. the clouds are never going to leave. its going to be a long cold winter again no matter what color wins. its stil the same shape for years to come. bundle up.

i am always be on california time. no matter how normal my sleep or days may be. its just the way things will always be.

i wish i could insult myself as well as i insult others.

we all crowd into a small room sheltered from a false cold and we converse about the little things. i sit next to the girl i have my schoolbboy crush on and feel awkward around, like she feels awkward when i do something to her just for my own amusement. its a good feeling. its a reminder in a soon-to-be ghost town that there are still signs of life. our average IQ drops, our weights increase, our education becomes automated. she doesnt fit a profile of this town, these suburbs. theres a few things id say....though i lack the steel confidence for that unlike the one i have when i strike at a throat verbally.

i guess there are vagrants in all class wars. my war with anyone above mine. my war with anyone not in mine. i am being to hopeful. maybe she isnt a vagrant. but she has been a diamond in a never ending pile of bodies that are becoming similar to sand. id rather see a smiling face from here than a skeleton that had a pevious owner who had a reputation of going through the motions and smiling to save her face. obviously.....that face wasnt saved.

we are all vagrants. rogues. freedom seekers. there isnt just one profile and datafile to create. some of us just know it from the start. others find it from experience. never too late to find out.

we are all vagrants. we just dont know it.

youll find common friends in the most uncommon places. did i ever think i would find someone who could keep up on humanity views in a way tyler durden would see it? face value isnt everything. keep searching.

sometimes with feeling like an endless walker and never in a stationary situation, it feels almost easier to just live in a car rather than pay on a place you really only use for a bed space and to showcase your materials. i just wonder how i will get my car over the ocean if i am called farther west than i have already been.

no welfare. no parole. just a single file into a single file.

sometimes we free thinkers are the ones who have the least amount of problems.
were the ones who find more enjoyment in the littlest things. no matter how we find them.
we dont always need puzzle pieces to complete the puzzle.
maybe being imperfect and never finishing the puzzle is the greatest happiness in life.

ctrl-alt-elite
thats all i see in anyone anymore
no one leading the cry to action
leading the cry to a fat nation
i wont be part of the problem
i will be the problem
turn my back to those who turn their backs on the open world
walking the roads like a ghost.
i wont be living in the veil
ill lead on my own right foot