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sketch tha cataclysm - i got dreams man lyrics

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i woke in a mist amidst mountains of nameless cd-r’s and philosophical writings, the previous evening still in the corners of my eyes. gazing upon all i own (or share) with a hint of confusion, i rustle myself to my feet, aiming my body toward appropriate clothing to go off in public. the caffeine addiction beckons me and i must answer its call

last night was one loaded with thoughts, the type of which only a single man with a loneliness complex that has read too many books would have. my brain pulls the randomized selection card and jostles about releasing revelation on god, relations, and contemplation on how unhealthy it is to eat four packages of ramen noodles in one sitting. while still drowning i ventured off into my neighborhood, p-ssing the numbers of sp-wns of mccain voters on my way to my chosen watering hole

the bar was littered with crazies, sports fanatics, and varied neighborhood dwellers that were pretending they were happy to see me. folks had gathered in honor of the return (for one week only) of their favorite bartender, a nice young fellow with the tendency of offering up a free drink now and then. i grabbed my refreshment and immediately launch into my unnecessary ice breaker conversation/-ssh0l- comedy performance that has become a common thing for me in public as of late. this evenings topic danced somewhere in the arena of things i’ve always wanted to do
i was discussing how earlier i had watched the f-cked up-ery that is the takashi miike films audition and ichii the k!ller and thought it would be great to go up to unsuspecting j-panese men and women and holler “whats wrong with you?!!?!” and have one of my friends push me off saying sh-t like “it ain’t worth it. . . it ain’t worth it.” on some ralph macchio sh-t. what could i say. . . i got dreams man. . . dreams that flow in the same vein as wanting to walk up to a stranger and slap a large pizza out of there hands screaming “i did this too you!!”

another topic of discussion was about the proper way to hold a gl-ss of stella artois, cupping the gl-ss in some over-dramatic pimped out way. fingers pointed outward, hand turned, and you have to remember to bend your knees as you lift so as not to hurt your back as you sip. i thought of that particular conversation piece as a community service, we’ll never know how many innocent drunkards may have been hurt had i not brought it up

after which i left, making my exit as absolutely abrupt as i could, so as to disturb the flow of the evening and shake up the locals. i walked alone letting that sadness set in, that sadness that comes with enjoyment of beverages and being drunk on thought. too many hours of work have been put in recently with only the empty bottles to show for it and a thousand coffee cups representative of the following mornings

so. . . here i am. . . fresh coffee in hand. . . onward into the abyss. .



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