Thought Chronicles No. 4

 I can’t stand working with someone else, 

I turn into a helper, and they become a/the boss

They think teamwork is telling me what to do

They have their opinion, [but] that opinion ain’t the truth

It’s motel art [on the wall] that nobody pays attention to

I know how to do my job better than they do

It’s dog eat dog, they want a leash around you

Trying to force the next man to assimilate

It’s one man’s preference, he calls it “the right way”

I won’t even remember it after today

I wanna work at my own pace, without you alongside

But I’m in their truck, just along for a ride

Getting a trial by fire is a distant pipe dream

There’s other modes of being, but he can’t see

Sight blocked by prison bars and a flatline beep

Thought Chronicles #3

The fabric of reality comes apart at the seams

Unraveling the stitching of my dreams

I get on yelp and leave Earth a bad review

A defense mechanism against my blue moon

Which is casting a shadow on my baggage [I travel with]

Going faster than it doesn’t give validation

Roll the wheel of misfortune, and I see

What galaxy should I go to, this one ain't for me

Truth be told, the idea of God is cheesy

Humanity has expanded far too much for him

Reliant on the technology that we invented

Our feet froze after we got them wet

Banking our fate on the outcome of a coin flip

Heads or tails funnel sheep in a direction 

A flash drive contains all our memories

A thick barrier between us and creativity

Thought Chronicles no. 2 🖊️

 

If my whole life is just a mark on a paper 

I hope that it’s a comma beneath a period

The semicolon to continue a life sentence

Melting into a one man civilization

I always think I can get free, sail off the map,

But I’m just in the truman show, taking a nap

Forced hypnosis from participating in society

Allure of the open road turns to illusion of privacy

And we’re all just expanding spores of bacteria

Actors following the script of a person

Never their real self, just a contrived concept

They don’t live their passion, they just promote it

They demonize me before they see my perspective

And the paper thin boundaries start to peel away

Stuck between a jagged breath and inevitable decay

Crafted by the same crazy sculptor, and the same clay

Thought Chronicles #1

Well, here's the first thought chronicle project, assembled from my voice recordings from 2018-2019.

Lyrics:

My micro-task manager orders me around arbitrarily 

Sterile minded and primitive emotionally

Putting attention on the outside, ignoring the core being

Let’s start with you, you act human normally

But the green skin and the scales won’t fool me

You invent some rules, and tell me how it’s gonna be

Making my whole life just a bipedal set of feet

Slumping into the same monotonous routine,

I’m so hot headed I gotta roll the window down

Let my shadow escape and slither around

Ignoring problems doesn’t make em go away

Friday night, egos come out to play

And the traffic is always perfectly in the way

Don’t worry it’s just a life or death thing

Thought Chronicles

 So, I have approx 1000-1100 files of voice recordings, which I have recorded at various times over the past 5 years or so. These come from my recording microphone I wore as a necklace, and others are recorded on my phone. The recordings vary widely, some are just a couple seconds, a quarter piece of a thought. Others are 7 minute long recordings of my own theories, feelings, or even what you might call self therapy sessions. 

They were recorded mostly in everyday situations, such as driving at work, on the treadmill, or grocery shopping. Others I recorded while driving for road trips, or camping in the desert in my personal time. Other recordings stem from an inspiring thought that came to me when I’m trying to fall asleep, taking a shower, stuck in traffic, and many other inconvenient and unlikely times.

The sheer mountain of recordings I have accrued has been overwhelming me as of late, knowing that so many have not seen the light of day, and are just sitting as files on my computer and phone. Also, I am running out of storage space on my devices, which gives me further motivation. So, I am writing various poems using bits and pieces of these recordings, and deleting many others that I can’t find a home for. 

As a stream of consciousness project, I am choosing files at random, and typing out what I said in each recording, then deleting the recording. I may rearrange them a little bit, add a couple words, but mostly I’m just writing out what I say in the voice recordings verbatim, and seeing what happens.

 

Decided to call them “Thought Chronicles”,  to differentiate them from other work. Posting the first one here shortly.

Swipe Culture

In the flesh interaction is becoming obsolete 

But the phone is eager, always ready to feed 

And put some artificial sweetener on reality 

Curating the experiences and the selfies 

Various identities all morph to one entity

An individual’s voice starts to lose potency 

The light bulb over our heads is flickering 

In a sterile culture wallowing in shared pity, 

Intimacy is bought and sold like a commodity 

Pick a card, any major credit card, type it in 

Otherwise they may never see your application

Outis - "Cosmic Zombies" Slam Poem

Announcing the release of my slam poem "Cosmic Zombies".

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Lyrics:
I'm caught between introspective flaws and a jagged breath
Because they lack spiritual fervor, they're decrepit and dead
You take the majority and leave me your scraps?!
I'm like a fish climbing a tree, ready to fall down and swim back

While you'll go out on the longest limb just to say "I told you so"
I guess it's a way to get back at me...
because I sparked your internal woes...? Well, it's IMPOSSIBLE
to explain passion because you're an apathetic person

I'm sick of feigning optimism when all hope is illusory
And still my closest friends are merely my enemies

I'm feeling weak and invalidated as a petitioned prisoner
Rotting in a cage with lots of bratty xenophobes
My ego's in 2 places at once, disguised as people I know
As Earth exaggerates its apathy and socializes my anxiety

Feels like hours, but merely minutes go by
They're seen staring at a phone and talking about the weather?
They're highly egotistical, therefore have an eroded sense of self

It was a quite distinct psychopathic, psychotropic indication
To quit hoarding my information and short-circuiting my inspiration!