r.A.N.t

Walking among ghosts is not fun, they dont see you, they dont look and definitely dont listen and sometimes they stink, but in this world you make the rules. What are the rules? Well, they are the limitation and expectations you put on your world, not thiers. But why put those? Why set rules, laws, guidelines. Isnt today what it is? Here. MC Hammer could be a profit (what a laugh thinking that coked up sheep was somehow connected), or at least the person who inspired the song. Cant touch this. This being me, being soul, being here, being. Can not come into this world and effect this stance. Try. Shove a bus up my ass, shove your tired complaints and egocentric thoughts into my face, do what you or they may, it has no effect. Can not touch this, me, here, being. Sounds like a load of crap to me. what type of effervescent fool will believe this? Whoever they are, they are happy and isnt that the case. Self imposed ignorance for a joyful yet unexplained existence? Fuck it. Fuck goals and future. Fuck holding on tight enough to cut circulation. Today I am fine. Today the air is full of shit, and pricks with no dicks are cutting me off talking cheap trash to cheaper trash, but cant touch this. Poor bastards will never have a chance to know the feeling of weightlessness, even on cranked out tweaked highs. You want it that bad? take it. no need for it here. anyway you dont know the code, dont know how to use it, for sure dont know how to enjoy it. take it all, rape me, rob me, cheat me, blow me. all the same. cant touch this. cant have this, isnt here to be had. my bound feet on a flattened stiffened ground will float for they are still carrying me and my world, my rule-less, ranting, real world.