Babble-icious

Babbling on

Well, I sure had one helluva day. I woke at 4:30 a.m., and … ah, who cares. Just another day. Just like any other day, that's ever been. Nevermind. Yes, I realize I'm drawing from Oingo Boingo, the Grateful Dead, and Nirvana. Nobody is ever themselves, anymore. Ha, Dead Milkmen.

I bloody well am a giant music box, alright? One of these days I'm going to cut you into little pieces. Ok, Pink Floyd, that one. Did Pink ever carry out his threat? By the way, which one is Pink? Oh, Pink is somebody else. A girl. Ya, I don't care if Pink killed anybody, either. Pink could kill the whole damned world, for all I care. Call it empowerment or something.

I woke up and went back to bed. To sleep, perchance to dream, ay, there's the rub. Visions of swastikas, dancing in my head. Shakespeare, and David Bowie, I think. I ate some of my free lunch. There's no such thing as a free lunch? Who said that? No, not the Who. Try going to a food pantry. You could eat freely for the rest of your life, if you wanted. Take the skinheads bowling.

The beat, the english beat, the beatles, the eurythmics, sonic youth, the sound of music, the sound of silence, lynyrd skynyrd says “turn it up”, the loud family, Low, quiet riot, rage against the machine, the sex pistols, guns n' roses, love and rockets, the clash, fight club, battlestar galactica, star wars, american psycho, i'll stop there. Stream of consciousness, spittin some flow. Word, ward, warred.

I dream of Jeannie, Morpheus, Dr. Dre, dreamworks, and dream factory. The DREAM act, dreamers. I have a dream speech. Interpreting dreams, in the bible. Dreamcatchers, native american. (D and rheem. dr. eem?) Hakeem the dream Olajawon, hoops player. Lucid dreaming. Lucy. Lucifer. In need of some restraint, rolling stones. Sisyphus. Camus, campus. Dream on, aerosmith.

Yo blood, spittin' some flow, word up dawg, bee-otch, word to your mother, in the house, old school, G u-NIT. Bitch ass ho hood rat chickenhead, in da hoopty, with some cheddar. That's all I got.