When I said that four letter word, what I meant was that the first time I saw that facial expression, it registered with a marked potency in my mirror neurons. Those neurons caused my ventral tegmental area to seize. But memetic scaffolds in my temporal lobes cock-blocked my nucleus accumbens. Please understand, those memes were mightier than they were sane.

And signs pointed me to a place where my nucleus accumbens could connect with my ventral tegmental area, as it related to the entire surface area of my cerebral cortex. Alas, my nucleus accumbens was more hedonistically structured than ever before, but my egotistical programming also went from dim to bright. Bear in mind, that when I say ego, I mean the impression of a person who seeks what they feel is right. But memetic scaffolds surrounding my amygdala bitch-slapped my ventral tegmental area. Please understand, those memes were mightier than they were sane.

I’m sorry for making the same mistake again.

And time keeps me going.
So many have tried showed me what,
but this time, I was reminded why.
Now all my worries have died.
It’s too far to walk, so I’ll take the ride.
I still know the path where I would pedal my bike.

And in certain corners of my central nervous system, oxytocin an dopamine plumes are reserved for my
unique brand of royalty.
Not to claim superiority, or disparage novelty.
On the contrary.
It cries, not to complain, or to beckon, only to recon that second best isn’t worth the erection of the life tied into a gene splice.

I’ll sew my seed into these memes, instead.

No place to take offense,
No position to defend,
No religions to repent,
No stagnation to suspend.

Narrowminded, the moral higher ground is irrelevant.
Singleminded, seek the paradisic for the hell of it.
Simpleminded, keep it clean. It’s just as well.
The love keeps coming, so may the hate be frail.

Let the verb and the object gripe and complain, because the subject is always the same.

http://davidwilliamson82.blogspot.com/2011/04/huh.html

Bloom with the wicked ascension
Don’t forget to mention why.
Love the eradication of the demonic syrup
We are all willing to bleed

Tonight. Inebriated with the breaking season of actualization -
The pain that feeds
intothethigsibuyinto
Limited view
Chosen for a reason
And I won’t be denied my voice
I can take any visual shades
Any tactile sensations
Any smell, any taste
We will find a way
We will find a way
We will find a way
I could say it and say it and say it and say it.

I came around to see if there was anything in my cowardly demeanor that could reach my needs.
All the while, I take my chances like rosary beads.
Broken. Down but I need to believe.
Dare I see, my curiosity will pull me where my courage is beat.

Smile for me. I need to know you’re okay. For every one of my mistakes there are five earthquakes I would take through my arterial vein impacting Tiera’s main street.
I’m shook, plain, willing to turn the other cheek – but grant me the opportunitity to speak. I still have blue chips yet to let leak, and freedom for you is freedom for me.

Separation, togetherness, I’ve earned my degree.
Wait and see.
Wait and see.
Wait and see.
Wait and see.
Wait and see.

http://davidwilliamson82.blogspot.com/2011/04/voiceless.html

I posses nothing
Witness to the colorful dusting
Celophane and bleach
Changing weeks like sunbeams
The cornerstone of lust gives me no shame
Interconnected like a chess game
Don’t call me shallow when we go this deep
I gotta drop the science, if you’re falling asleep
If I must be a door mat, sweep under me.

Break it down like a drum kit
Build it up like a summit
Shake a fist at the gubment and act like you love it.

Attack like a beast, but put no cage on me.
The purest love I’ve ever seen knows how to bear it’s teeth.

http://davidwilliamson82.blogspot.com/2011/04/posession.html

I’m still an allude to you.
Not in a bad way. My life has a shape.
Yes. As a matter of fact, I do roll this way.

I refuse to agree that people are just plain awesome,
but if there’s nothing to find, you can’t be lost.
If there’s nothing to buy, you can’t count a cost.

Soy la llorona!
Donde esta mi amor?
Donde esta mi corazon?
Donde esta mi color?
Donde esta mi alma?

The sky is blue, and the river is polluted.
The guppies will dine on my caviar.

Take comfort. Never let yourself become jaded. Because the pain would kill me if it could.
My stupid name? Fuck what you heard, look at my face – see the full spectrum, gradations of grace in this world.
Confusing strength with weakness. Confusing fear with hate. Slowly, I am still learning to differentiate.

All I can say is that evil pervades, but your essence could never be tarnished or replaced. The bad might stick out in the emotional mind, but that goodness is the kind of thing that’s so hard to find. And yes.
My name and my freedom under law might constitute a loss, but they are so infinitessimal compared to that hindsight. Jesus. It’s clear enough.

I don’t need advice from any puffed up lords of the fake smile. They take the expression and make it grayscale. Avert your gaze from the land of the living so you can’t see death, and tell me to give it a rest.

But it’s okay. I have a hidden trap door passage. In the moments when I feel the insurmountable passion.
If I can hear the declaration singing louder than the question.
I stop taking suggestions and take action.

And I feel it so strong. Not like when you hug a close friend in greeting. I mean that feeling you get when you hug somebody goodbye.
I’m not lost and I wasn’t lying.
I am not opposed to trying.
And when I’m crying, I say – long live the deeper joy.
Good moods are like children’s toys, when you stick them in a void.

Let go? That depends. I can be more respectful, but I’m never putting down my only soul.
So I guess I depends on who you ask.
What do I know?

http://davidwilliamson82.blogspot.com/2011/04/nit-pick.html

Punching in my timecard. I afford only so much of my sort of brainstorm. The reign of the overlord is long lived, but things’ll be better someday. My life is like Stanton, most the time it goes one way. Some say that I’m not this or that, but I’ll tell you what I am. I am the magician’s boring hand. Come and bring your feelings of lack, point to me to distract. I’m that reformer with the self-esteem that’s cracked.

Better look out, cause this is how it works out. John Lennon was a jerk, now, you think he was just saintly enough to work for peace? He probably gave up on his insides. Which vein most love’s the needle’s slide? Imagine all the people realizing that imagination is only one side of it, but don’t imagine if they actually acted.

No one wants that.
No one wants that.

Think it’s a little absurd to hate humans for being an animal to go and threaten humans. I don’t take on those emotions just because. Give me a reason. What’s so great? – what? Did you think that humans can rub out the DNA. I highly doubt it, but good luck anyway. It would appear the world changes. Drawn towards the beautiful to come and decay it.

We see and relate this, and we all have a blast. Even if it’s only for a minute, we’re gonna take that class. I’m always enrolled. No need to ask, because I don’t need a reason to try and make it last.

http://davidwilliamson82.blogspot.com/2011/04/punching-in-my-timecard.html

I’m sorry. My words are vomit, lately. Frothing, flakey, and basically gracefully in as minimal a way as humanly possible.

Lies, Losers, illicit fucking.

http://davidwilliamson82.blogspot.com/2011/04/too-late-for-that.html

Sometimes I feel like I’m a good seed, at my core.
But the good seed is surrounded by the trappings of the bad seed.
Of course that requires that I adopt that facade of goodness.
All that nonsense makes me start to wonder about the good seed.

http://davidwilliamson82.blogspot.com/2011/04/seed.html

Waking up to all my good luck. None of the fucks who would have ever needed protection from the imaginary violent version of me made it down on paper. I only count two, and if I wanted to serve the justice of another, you had better make it three.

But I’ll say none, for legal reasons.
I’ll say none, just because – fuck em. I got better things to do.

Your possessive friends can eat a dick, choke on it, and drown in their own vomit, but that cock will not be mine. Oh no. My penis is flaccid, and it’s not from satisfaction. I’m swept away by an inappropriate chain reaction. I told you not to neglect them, but now I resist the temptation to wreck them. Because with all due respect, I have access to a craziness as intense as your hotness, your coolness, your adaptability, or your resilience.

But you’re a fool if you think that distance from me is to your benefit. I’ve seen them clawing at your flesh, picking meat off your bones in droves. Shadows, next to you. Insects, below my shoe. Tubs of lard in a stinky apparent. Sacks of animosity, dressed up as if to look pretty.

I’m not a rat, so I guess I don’t understand. Mastermind to a broken plan. Lay down your weapons. Break your worthless pact. Understand that any violent man inside my imagination was lulled into slumber by your magical eyes, and your intelligent ears, and your gentle hands. But now I never let him look at the past, cause if he could, he would only abuse my laugh. I don’t tell him about the future, even though you wouldn’t be directly involved in any of his plans. Not if you were the destroyer of this world, and he was the last man.

But loving you has been the only time when I can say that I didn’t feel my moments being wasted. Somehow, all this effort was worth it. And I dove into the current. I’m no dumfuck, believing a television spiel. I know what’s important. I know what’s real. I forgot for a second, and it caused me to put myself first on the list of people to kill.

But fortune smiles on me, so I’ll try to smile back. Because these slivers of hope are what most people lack. Where they find the will, I shall never know, but I know that we could have done better than personal growth.

http://davidwilliamson82.blogspot.com/2011/04/waking-up-to-all-my-good-luck.html