the koedon armada

I live near alpha centary that is about 24 trillion miles from you nice people. I picked up a radio signal from you planet about four years ago and it was barry manilow singing "mandy," and i was hooked. I decided to fly to your neck of the spiral arm in this here milky way galaxy and learn to play thOSE GUITAR STRINGS.I had a ruff time of it. the people of you planet are a very competitive lot. They could kill their own families if they need to. If money is involved or jealousy or whatever. They scare the shit out of me. I'm afraid of the earthicans, I'm afraid of this world!I have learned to hide right in the open. But hiding gets to be tiresome. Sometimes you want to remove your mask and scream, HEY, I"M RIGHT HERE, LOOK AT ME GOOD DAMN IT! Loneliness can be a garbage can, closed and smelly. Unclean and unshaven.mushrooms shove me through the doors of preception, and I never want to come back. I thank the forceful hand for the push.the present is clouded by a spiked up vein, that collapses in on itself like government. But soon the pain will end. senses highten in a different way. the inner becomes outer. a door closes and pulls me back into the real world, i left the gas on on the stove for two hours, i didn't know. i will probobly kill us all accidently, wouldn't be the first time. my friend was just killed, it was a little bug that sat next to me while i typed this shit out, my girlfriend in her angry way came over and killed him, that is how she loves. one more turn of the screw. I went walking in down town chicago today and I saw a homeless man pissing on a wall next to an outdoor restaraunt. Everyone in the restaraunt pretended not to notice, but you could see the squirm, and you could hear their silent conversation they shared with each other through their eyes as loud as thunder. And i realized something. That homeless guy was not crazy, he just wanted to see uncomfortable people get sick and not want to eat their delicious expensive food that he will later have to dig out of the garbage cans out back to eat. more for him.just a thought, maybe he was crazy today is a day ful of writer block static, burning my head in sonic fire. like the constant buzz of a fly. I can not see in nor out. stasis and walking coma. smoking and melanoma I live in a sanity sink the heavy water comes and washes me down drain i am stealing medication from various places. My guitars never want to leave their cases. and I cant blame them none, can't remember their faces. i have smoked so many cigerrets my jaw fell apart from cancer, dirty carniverous cancer with a twist of painful bad breath and tounge hanging freedom. now it could swing in the breeze and taste the salty rain without asking permission. it is good to know ones place. it is good to know ones limits. it is good to use things against people when they are down to turn that smile into a frown and wipe away satisfied feelings with a little bit of dirty dealing. it is also good to use and abuse until you feel it to your blues and then you can always ask for forgiveness as long as you are catholic. it will get you out of the shit. absinth and arsinec. peace of mind and a piece of shit just needs to be dumped out to the river mouth to get washed away down the delta to be carried to memphis or minnasota, the mall of america, put price tag on and sell it to the shoppers. what.an argument keeps you sharp. get in a fight and you will see clear the next day. there will be no fear because you beat it back with a good attack and if you blocked a punch with your face, it just shows you have to learn to use your hands a little quicker, and the sounds a little sharper talk to sleeping parts of your system and awaken the sleeping tiger with hunter pride.so punch your nieghbor then say hello, he will thank you in the next show. why do you have to say what your doing coming out of your goddamn door or walking to your car? I don't go for that, no no no. im drunk mozelBelieve me or not, But I can read minds. The eyes have a tell, The body gives signs. A twitch of the brow, A quivering lip, A wandering eye, A hand on the hip. Believe me or not, But were all the same. We think the same way, We play the same game. We have the same needs, That keeps us in glue. My mind readings tried, Its tested and true. It can be used to get money, Or used against you. It’s a parlor trick, To sucker the rubes. It can be used to trick kings, To give up their crown. Used to twist minds, Turn smiles to frowns. So believe me or not, Your mind can be read. Implanted with images, The come from my head.