I've been searching for something for longer than i've wanted to venture for. It's all the same, repitition. a stitch on a record. The last time i felt the ascension of my limitless periphery seems now like some fond memory. My pencil's beginning to tap on a paper, one that's colored in the bleached white of idiocracy, and nothing's coming to my head. you may be thinking if im referring to my inspiration, but that only seems like a half of an explaination. For years i've been staring up at the night sky waiting for nothing short of destiny. i can feel my body wilting physically, mentally, and extravertantly into different warps and textures of perspective. I'm always going to be Tony. That will never change. But when you grow every millisecond counts and even the ones that you spent doing nothing, something has still changed within you. I've been trying to keep my mind sharp, because whenever i feel like I'm slipping something inside me has an affliction to push and stay my same witty self. The over indulgence of the things we dont need in life will anchor your soul down like a dabilitating stigma or harness of "reality". But to be honest i could go for more "perception" than "reality" at this point. Doesn't it seem like only a few years ago us as a populous had more imagination? Like every other thing i see nowadays is a regurgitated husk of something that was cool and hopefully there will be some kind of residual residue that'll seep of on to this new product....

product.

can we even use such a word anymore? i feel like i've been swathing so much redundant predictability lately that i've been watching classic cartoons and playing nintendo games just to get a quick fix of something original from a not so distant past. Those TV waves finally burned a hole, and it's filling up with nothing more than a shifting edifice of trends and innuendo from everything I see and touch. No wonder monks nowadays are the only one's you hear about achieving enlightenment on a regular basis, they've haven't been indoctrinated or tainted by the snobby seudo-sadist activities of people pulling the strings, belting out things deemed cool by what seems like robots in an abercrombie closet. I don't know, candy doesn't taste as good anymore, stupid crap is always adorning the popular list, and only the morbid and unorthodox seem to be the only things getting rises out of me. And i hate it. I really dont like to think that what once was a waterfall of different perspectives and imagination is drying up. All things come to an end. But this is the single thing i figured would transcend something as objective as time. there's a knife of irony on a spindel, and i just keeps twisting in my head.

I don't know, maybe i need a new rush of inspiration. something to prove that the world still has that special something that gets me up everyday. It's 3 in the morning, and if a thought as simple as this is bothering me, i think i need a new affliction. like listening to a song i haven't heard, meeting up with an old friend. Painting a masterpiece in your eyes knowing that there wasn't a single thing you put in that to make other people happy. I need this. I've been searching to see the moon and feel that fantastic rush of magickal inspiration again. something that wisps of incense smoke and a whole slew of gothic metaphors couldn't conjure up. i need it.

and i guess i need to tell this to somebody. to nobody. no one even comes here anymore. i dont even. This place has become just an archive of my personal rants througout the years. like a library that i visit every once in a while to sit and dwell. to pray and rant. i've always been my best company. and i guess that's why it's up to me to find my flighty muse once again.

The digital clock has just struck one and i am ready now. For a while now I have been staring off into space, realizing that there is nothing to do. I cant sleep. There's too much inside my mind analyzing and remembering, its making my tongue dry. That black hollow of a spot in the back of your throat that you choke down and realize you're spending time within some sort of self paradox. Wondering about the future, yet spending time dwelling on it that you accomplish nothing sitting there daydreaming. My ambitions don't exceed me at all, it's not a matter of that, but more of something you would have to delve into a little more to see the true meaning. But in this unholy aria of self dessimating thought, you would think that i could come up with something to spend my time doing.

ART.

Yeah, we were all thinking it. anyone who knows me would think it. But I've got more than an abundance of ideas to make. But im looking for a temporary fix. something to satiate my clustered epiphanies and give me something to chew on while dulling me into a sleeping state. Insomnia comes at the worst times. I have work tomorrow. But that wont stop my brain from going on a rampage of thinking random stuff up and ruining my concentration of trying to get sleep. Just because it's one now doesn't mean that this wont turn into a whole night of repetitive wierdness. And sometimes you just know the night is going to be an all nighter. I sit in my giant hand chair and stare around like a zombie or desk jockey. Still objects, trash, warps of perspection, all seem to slap on a canvas in my head in some repugnant medium or another. So i close my eyes, actually squinting like somethings trying to pry my eyes open. yet my attempt didnt really work because thoughts and flashes of pictures, memories, imagination and all other sorts of a digested film directors cliche attempt at a movie montage began playing in the blackness of my eyes.

A fury of sounds and sensations that i couldn't ignore. because closing your eyes is as dark as it gets, but the brain has the eyes harnessed in its root. So it's pretty useless trying to run away from it. But i thought i had a trump card: meditation. The sacred art of self centering and being one with yourself. For years i've practiced the art with mixed results. And when i began, slowly the same thought kept creeping in. I started thinking about who first meditated ever. and what came to mind was a cartoon monk in a chinese temple on some freakishly high mountain. which reminded me of snow, then water, then the ocean, then the fact that most of earth is made of water, which somehow led to global warming, and in the end the last thought i had before i realized how horrible of a tangent i was on was Homer Simpson wearing only underwear and singing the "Mr. Plow" themesong.

 Insomnia 1: Meditation 0

Then i realized how pointless it is to ignore my mind trying to show me things and began concentrating on them, one by one. Laying down and trying to use the thoughts as dream fodder. But no, it seemed that its always a little too difficult to pass out with a full mind. Regardless i didn't stop trying, and i think i know how to crack it. That's why i said i am ready at the beginning of this piece. Because my strategy is, my mind is full because i wanted to write. And now that i have i think im ready to go to sleep. 

.

..

We all have to use self paradoxes to our advantage.

 What is new? time seems to slip through both sides of the hourglass and everytime a headache stops, theres a moment of silence. a moment of death. I wish i could find a door and walk into another time. But what if i lost the key? I've always had this thought about going back to the fifties where everything was black and white (yeah, when i was a kid i wasnt sure if color existed in the fifties because i never saw color in that time on any movies i had seen. Kind of the same concept if you think of a child seeing a horse only in books their whole life. And when they hear the concept of riding a horse, they think its impossible. Because how can anyone ride a three inch horse? But, i regress).

I've always wanted to go back in time and bring a TV and a computer generated movie and show it to everyone. I wanted to give them faith in the possibilities of the future. that it is, indeed, full of the most incredible things I've had the pleasure, and burden, to witness. Technology makes us faster, synthesised medication and antiseptics help us live longer, yet we are still running fowards on tracks pulling us backwards in this time of life. So what if i did loose that key? What if i knew where our journey of chronological decisions would eventually lead us?

would i be able to do anything about it?

Our ozone still is a sphere instead of a ratted funeral cloth, our elements depleating are far from our minds. And inspiration still seems to flow in more diverse directions other than the orthodox fads of whatever time.

In other words, the world was still beautiful.

so could i prevent the fast that the earth will eventually have to endure? or would humanity not listen and continue on its path like a snake writhing through a hollow, only to eventually lead back to its tail and bite it.

If time has shown us anything but reruns it is that humanities warring nature will eventually be our demise. How can our bodies be evolving if even the most primal of traits is still latched on to our hands and forcing us to raise them for insipid reasons? I was having a conversation about war and evolution the other day, and the conversation ultimately led up to none other than:

Religion.

Which brings up an interesting point. most of our wars are because of religion. so is that the answer? remove religion and remove the war? I dont like to think so. i think religion is something to celebrate, not to stab it into another human. And a world without faith is a world that i would rather kill myself than enter. Because faith has given us everything we see before us. and im not talking faith in god, im talking about faith in general. that artist never got famous because he has an amazing masterpiece, its because his faith in the hands that made it. your clothes, the water you drink, that ceiling fan you stare at every night, its all a directed product of a word that loses meaning every time you say it. and it loses meaning simply because it's been wrought and turned into every single thing that whenever its misdirected, humanity seems to want to accomodate it. Where's our cars that run from New York to California on a gallon of water? Why does everything need a form of varnish to cover it? whether it be non biodegradable stuff, or the smiling corporate gimmick. Our lives are full of too much we dont need and not enough of what we do. and we are so busy that we dont even give a damn. we accomodate it.

And it wont be untill the world becomes a brown wrinkled husk and we are at the cusp of dessimation that we realize we screwed up.

But do you know what the silly thing is?

I'm positive at that very moment where humanity seems to have finally ended. there will be one thing standing in its way.

Faith.

And like a dabilitated albotross it'll rise its crooked head and bring us back to life. only to begin the cycle anew of building growing corrupting warring defeating all over again. and maybe fall down the evolutionary ladder a couple of times in the process.

so the door is still open to all the possibilities. But again, what if i lost the key?

What if it was me sitting alone back in time with nothing but a future TV and a movie to watch. Would i be able to change anything? Maybe, but then again maybe this is just a book being reread and abridged each time, innevitably leading to the same predictable end. But i think that if i could hit play, it would at least give them faith.

Humanity as a whole and individuals alike should realize this. That even though we think that time is lost and we have lost the key. That no, we haven't lost the key yet.

We just have to have the faith to use it.

.

.

-end rant.

 i know what day this is, even the moment i woke up. i stayed up till four in the morning last night, and i could hear it already beginning. I know what i'll see when i turn on my tv, i know what everyone will be reminding us of when i turn on my radio. i look out my window and see that there isnt a single american flag outside. and i feel almost bad for apparently being the only person who wanted to buy one yesterday. but when the day started and i opened my eyes, i hadn't forgotten. because we will never forget. its become an abscure american birthday now. the birth of "justified prejudice", the birth of a half-ass war completely one sided, using the guise that we're looking for something. but we're not, we're just poking around with guns and making nations hate us even more. The birth of a wretched enlightenment. That we are as frail as any other nation. and now we know their pain. people are murdered in public, children are martyred, cars are exploded right before people's eyes everyday, and we are sitting back and maybe giving 61cents a day to starving equadorian children because we feel guilt tripped into it by our own TV. we're sitting back and buying magnetic ribbons for our cars saying "support our troops" and running video reel montages of tragic events to cram patriotism down our dried and cracked throats. if only to make us all remember, but trust me.

We'll never forget.

That was the slogan made for the event wasnt it? its awful that people would try to coin a slogan for tragedy. But if it takes a blow that hard to jarr us into patriotism, then we are in for some rough waters in the future indeed.

 I dont want to go through this day, i dont want to be sober. i dont want to hear the names of the buildings or those three familiar numbers at all, but i know it will be on the minds and lips of everyone today. those people did it to spite a nation that they envied and abhored for its power and arrogance. and we turned around and proved to them everything that we are with our fear. You want power and arrogance? we're invading your country and killing your people now. So tell us where he is and tell us what you're hiding. doesn't matter if you do or not, we're still going to push harder. apparently we can't have peace untill we have war...

I didnt want to, but i had write something about this. i had to at least make the effort today to say what i felt before it was lost in another day. and i know everyone across America, even the world, are groping for words to say how they feel on the subject as well. maybe this is stagnant, maybe everyone already knows this, and my words are just another monotony of words trying to be found to slam into its own posterity of an event that scars us. But i know that i wanted to buy a flag yesterday to fly in the american wind, and if years from now if i were to read this, i wonder if my views on it would all be the same.

I woke up and it was raining. the best way on earth to wake up. i roused myself out of my dreams of drawings and thoughts of the future, and thought about a goddess. not one in particular, but THE one. how amazing it was to have a gift like rain brought to my doorstep after the month of drought. i said my goodbyes to eveyone and they all swept themselves out the door into the rain. i stayed at the doorway staring up at the sky. after a time my feet were getting cold so i went back into the house and turned off all the lights except for this computer and a purple lava lamp. This is how to enjoy the morning. but wait...something was missing. So i went into the kitchen and turned on the coffeepot. there wasnt any coffegrounds left. no happy little red Folger's dispenser sitting in my fridge. it was funny, kind of glared at the fridge like i was just hit with really disgusting information. But sitting in the back of the fridge was a strangely abaresque-ly colored bag. but being the coffee freak i am i dumped the entire contents of the bag into a filter and slammed the top of the coffeemaker. eventually i started getting a strange feeling. So i glanced outside, thinking that the rain stopped. No, that wasnt it. I looked over my shoulder and snatched up the bag holding the coffee grounds.

"Java colony Coffee Company". I looked down at the bottom of the bag and it said

"100% Columbian coffee grounds". wtf? Isnt Java an island in the philipines? Does that island even EXIST anymore? and Columbia is in the f*cking carribean! and i sure as hell hope that the 100% means its all columbian, and not 100% coffee. because if im ever drinking ANYTHING that isnt 100% of wherever the hell its from, i'll be crackin' skulls in second world countries...

as those thoughts continued, the coffeepot churned and bubbled with that oh so familiar sound. so i left it at that and wandered back into the room to ponder what my next painting endeavor would consist of. and also wondering if i should even attempt to try the mystery coffee.

I..

Im sorry. i planned on having an amazing climax and everything to this, but this is as far as i've gotten in the story so far.

The End