Up In Arms: The "Domino" Effect

Everybody Up!

What confuses you? Do I? I hope so. The fuzzier the lines get, the harder you have to concentrate. The harder you concentrate, the more atuned your mind is and therefore you can think better.

This is where the lines get blurred so much you'll need glasses, not that I have any at the moment. It's funny though, I realise I don't need them I can see everything I need to. Nobody needs visual-aids to recognise beauty and the beasts. Doesn't matter how hard you try, you'll always be the last won. (Pun Intended) I could see how far I can lift this but, what's going to make this rant any different from the last one? What separates me from the next "Blogger"? I'd tell you, but it ain't one to tell. Uptown Business continues as always. Order is often overrated. Graffiti writers are bent on making a message for the ages, or at least a mess for the ages. Either way, I'll made a mark.

But what good does that do anybody? Does it do me good because I'll feel accomplished? It won't get me where I want. Oh...Wait, what do I want again? I'm stuck between a rock, an emotion, and a memory. That okay though, I'd take a trap over a non-existant path anyday and I'll bite the hand that feeds if it fucking tastes better. Fate is faded, but that's okay because the lines will never become crystal clear at the rate we're going. Think about it. They always say: "You're only a teenager once"...but what exactly is a teenager? Is it a rebellious, angst-ridden kid who never listens to his parents? Is it a person who's learning to handle responsibilities? Is it a guy who's just enjoying his life "90210" style? What the hell are we "Adolenscents" supposed to strive to be? Television seems to glorify all of the above, but which one do we have to choose? That's the mentality that kills us all. Fuck choosing. I got more important things to do than dwell on a decision, but I always come back to the same spot...The choice. I've lived multiple lives...but it appears I'm only allowed to live one of them. I don't feel like doing anything, even when I know that in my heart of hearts I want to pound that motherfucker's face into the pavement. All I want to do is go to school, enjoy my time with friends, but no...This guy has to get in my face. That's what I hate the most. Not that he wants to fight me, but that I want to fight him. I want to revert to the violence. A lifestyle like that is not only dangerous, but it's addictive. Easy to fall into, but hard to forget. But I am no longer a part of that world, I'm simply a teenager...am I not? Who you are today may not be who you will be tomorrow. While some maintain a longing for the past, nostalgia for the sake of itself is betrayal of the future. No? We can't live two lives at once, so we try to indulge ourselves in activities that remind us of such things, but don't suck us in...even as they take over your life. Trying to stay in orbit around supercharged engines, old blackbooks and cold bottles of lager is like trying to hum a tune with a mouthful of marbles. I'll keep investigating the ulterior motives, but I've given up hope...I simple can't be bothered. It'll never dissipate, hard as I try to air it out. The stench of blood will never leave the premises. Scrub as hard as you like, the spots won't disappear. The faint whisper of a battle-cry will always ring in one ear....Right for spite. Urban violence isn't the best of passtimes, but you can make a killing off of the stories. There's just too much cool still left to go around, lots of bodies that need to be buried and too much emotion that still needs to be bottled up.

If you're wondering what's true and what isn't you can fuck off because it's none of your god-damn business. I can't tell you what it all meant. All that matters is that I feel accomplished, and my insides no longer churn from my brain wracking itself senseless. I said it, and if you ever realise what I mean...You'll know that there is only one conclusion to every story: We all fall down. Thank you Miss Harvey.

(C) 2006 SEASE Productions. All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified. Thank you to those that have helped me create this post, gave me the thoughts contained herein, or wrote the words to express them. If I borrowed your words, they're still yours and thank you again. You know who you are.