Fuck damnation, man! Fuck redemption! We are God's unwanted children? So be it!
~ First and foremost, I consider myself a human being and, like all others, I am damaged. I do not seek perfection and have no desire to attain it, we are all perfectly flawed.
~ Some may consider me a musician because I play the bass, others may call me an autistic auteur of the arts. I vomit ideas, images, and words onto canvas, onto page, onto film. I sputter words of virtue without fear of ramification, into some sort of anti-structure, a structure in and of itself, which some people ignore and others praise, though neither quite understand why.
~ I'm a social ray of sunshine in the dark night that is our life... when I want to be.
~ I enjoy conversation, though sometimes have trouble initiating it. I tend to be introverted when not inebriated, but talk to me anyway, I'm an open book.
~ I exude small amounts of all the qualities I find reedemable amongst others and am constantly struggling to improve them and further evolve as a person.
~ I am but a contradiction, as are we all. Yes, even you.
~ "I'm a regular fool in pale houses enslaved to lust for women who hate me" -J.Kerouac
~ I find nothing more attractive than intelligence, humor, and a soft set of kind eyes.
~ Yes, I have been hurt. No, I do not seek your sympathy.
"Do not empathize with the devil, for your virtues may become susceptible to the ill will of desire." ~ Me
~ "I wish I was like you... easily amused" -Kurdt Cobain
~ I've recently discovered the wonders of being a healthy and productive person.
~ You don't have to like me, I love you anyway, but don't feel suspect if I do not trust your callous grin.
~ I'm one of those "To weird to live, to rare to die" types. All I can say is deal with it. I have to.
~ I will never apologize for my intentions.
~ "I'm not in love, though I'm in love, I'm not a lover..."
~ This is my band, do something about it: the Human Machine
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"Please allow me to introduce myself I’m a man of wealth and taste. I’ve been around for a long, long year stole many a man’s soul and faith. And I was ’round when Jesus Christ had his moment of doubt and pain. Made damn sure that Pilate washed his hands and sealed his fate. I'm Pleased to meet you, Hope you guess my name, But what’s puzzling you, Is the nature of my game..."
~ Sympathy for the Devil
There is an idea of Matticus; some kind of abstraction. But there is no real me: only an entity, something illusory. And though I can hide my cold gaze, and you can shake my hand and feel flesh gripping yours and maybe you can even sense our lifestyles are probably comparable... I simply am not there. I have all the characteristics of a human being: blood, flesh, skin, hair; but not a single, clear, identifiable emotion, except for greed and disgust. Something horrible is happening inside of me and I don't know why. My nightly bloodlust has overflown into my days. I feel lethal, on the verge of frenzy. I think my mask of sanity is about to slip.
There are no more barriers to cross. All I have in common with the uncontrollable and the insane, the vicious and the evil, all the mayhem I have caused and my utter indifference toward it I have now surpassed. My pain is constant and sharp and I do not hope for a better world for anyone, in fact I want my pain to be inflicted on others. I want no one to escape, but even after admitting this there is no catharsis, my punishment continues to elude me and I gain no deeper knowledge of myself; no new knowledge can be extracted from my telling. This confession has meant nothing.
I like to think of my Jesus wearing a tuxedo t-shirt. It shows that he’s formal, ya know, but it also says, ‘Hey, I like to party too.'
