No no-s

How much time am I spending

on my dreams or my



How many times did I say can’t

When can was just

right there?


How many opinions can you opine

So much of your business

on the state of my mind


I know I’m a cunt-ry of states in divide

Where falling is the standing order implied

In order to be united in some state of me-tribe

I’d have to find middles in a world so left/right

I’m way too broken to know darkness from light

It’s so much easier to just stay wrong and behind


Watch me paint demons pretty in rhyme

Losing a battle in a war I won’t fight

My compass only slightly demagnetized

Go north, fuck it, I’m willfully blind

I’m telling you I’m smilin’ man it’s total-ly fine


I think I know it all but

I don’t even know how my nose blows

Giving my problems 20/20 focus

Driving with my rearview cause it’s closest


I say all the right things but the wrong words come out

Then I start doing all the no’s I thought not to think about

Almost like I could do alright if I was just okay being wrong

But I’m always listening to someone else’s song,

Telling me all the no-s that I already knew

But I thought nots cancel if you put them in two?


I’m so lazy

I’m too slow

I’m too crazy

I don’t know

Don’t fucking post that

Dude, that shit blows (like my nose)

Playtime is over

Get back in your hole


Get the basket

Get the lotion

And gimme the fucking hose again

It’s like the whole world is the enemy of my only


And I’m waiting and I’m hoping

I can come back and try


Where I’m not fucking up who

I am

Cause I’m too busy thinking not

giving in


Cut my nose, spite my face

Tell myself I have no grace

Grinning skull, it’s okay

I told myself it’s not today


Cut my no’s, find my faith

Who said I just fell from grace?

Grinning skull, let’s go play

No one told me no nots today


And now more words….

Still on an Eminem kick. A little Lil Wyte and Jelly Roll thrown in there too. It’s weird how when I was younger, I thought rap was bullshit and trash because I was so cool, pompous, self-righteous, indignant and a banger. Or whatever. I never actually fit in.

I liked metal, but there’s a lot of metal I don’t like. If it sounds like GIAYHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHFJHFEORIUQ RAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRR and I can’t make out words or syllables or anything more than primal throat gouging, I don’t care. I actually am probably generally offensive to most actual bangers. (and humans)

But, as far as hip hop or whatever, same thing – I only like certain stuff, and I don’t even know what it is. It’s almost like I have a repressed inner wigger (is that okay to say? Do we still say wigger or is it like Suburban American? I don’t want to be offensive) that’s really pissed off and likes rhyming things. But, that’s not really me either. I’m more like a mosh pit at a rave where everyone is on acid trying to find Buddha. There’s no label, man. I don’t fit into any party. 😦

Any and every label is another word for euphemism. Instead of just accepting labels as kind of general descriptors, it’s like people really give a shit about them now. Like people got pissed about “nu-metal” then they were pissed because of what got labeled nu-metal, even though it’s really just a state of attempting to make these tiny little variances amongst invariable variables. I call it metal. Nu, old…adolescent angst in a 37 year old’s body…I don’t know! I genuinely gave a shit about being a banger and now I’m like…dude, you barely like metal by the standard metal definition. You’re like a stay at home mom who can’t take any more bullshit… Like fucking Rage Against the Soap Scum


So then you come to the hybrid stuff where I’m actually generally found – HELLYEAH, Slipknot, Korn, etc. where call them whatever you want, they change song to song album to album, and that’s generally the people I like. The ones that just can’t fit into any category because they’re so damn good they invented their own. Is hillbilly hiphop a genre? (and do we still say hillbilly or is it Rural Americans?)

That’s all my opinion, and it truly doesn’t matter. There are folks that will throw down if I shit on any artist for any reason and equal numbers that would defend to the death whatever artist I’d shit on. But I don’t see any reason to shit on anyone because if I’m listening to them, they’re literally doing 1000000% more than I am. It’s not like I’m singing, or starting a band, or doing anything more than washing dishes and either rapping or gutturally inquiring as to whether or not you can feel my catharses/hate/rage/sickness/etc.


I don’t know, none of this probably makes sense, and for the first time in a long time, I don’t give a fuck. I keep trying to create well-crafted doilies to decorate my turds with and I’m so tired of it. When I actually enjoyed writing, I quite literally did not want anyone to read anything I wrote, and now I give a shit? Why? Everyone’s arguing about everything – what labels you listen to, what labels you wear, what labels you allowed someone else to slap on your forehead and cheer for, what labels you allowed someone to slap on your forehead and cry about… what does it matter?

It really doesn’t matter the label or the genre, pretty much every lyric comes back to stop listening to me, stop listening to everyone else, and just listen to yourself. Just lose the fucking labels and it’s all the same damn song.

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