My Blog

Folsom Prison Blues

I hear the train a comin’; it’s rollin’ ’round the bend,
And I ain’t seen the sunshine since I don’t know when.
I’m stuck at Folsom Prison and time keeps draggin’ on.
But that train keeps rollin’ on down to San Antone.

When I was just a baby, my mama told me, "Son,
Always be a good boy; don’t ever play with guns."
But I shot a man in Reno, just to watch him die.
When I hear that whistle blowin’ I hang my head and cry.

I bet there’s rich folk eatin’ in a fancy dining car.
They’re prob’ly drinkin’ coffee and smokin’ big cigars,
But I know I had it comin’, I know I can’t be free,
But those people keep a movin’, and that’s what tortures me.

Well, if they freed me from this prison, if that railroad train was mine,
I bet I’d move on over a little farther down the line,
Far from Folsom Prison, that’s where I want to stay,
And I’d let that lonesome whistle blow my blues away.

John R. Cash; © 1956 Hi Lo Music

Recently been reading up on some artists. certain songs like the above and Eminem’s Stan are pretty thought provoking.

As an answer to someone else’s blog,  i believe people do get married for a host of reasons, which are often mixed and blurred and may not be the most honest.

Is there a need to?Well it depends what you consider as a need and what is a want.

One may be the loneliest number, but sometimes any more than that can be a bitch.<-I’m not making puns or anything here, just a punctuation.Banging your hopes that your kids will take care of you in future is still a gamble. What if all my kids become retards, handicapped, hit by a speeding truck, torched up while playing with fire, decides that life isnt worth living anymore? Then say fuck shit there goes my investment and i’m like halfway to my grave and i cant get some anymore so i got no kids and even if i could it just isnt working anymore.

I decline to comment on gender difference as i believe its not right to stereotype in any way.We are all individuals, unless you make up your mind according to the way they choose to classify you, then by all means.

Life is full of choices, often too many, and bloody tough ones just keep coming. But we are often restricted by ourselves and the education that has already been implanted in our minds that tell us we have to do certain things.

I’ve got a friend,

I say i’ve got a friend,

a matchstick for a friend,

and when we go out, late at night,

we set the town up alight.

Now, people say that we’re insane but its alright, yea its alright.

Well as long as i have this friend of mine you guys can fuck yourselves tonight.

Cos i’ve got a friend

She paints a picture in a myriad of colours,

Theres a rainbow of seven pigmentations,

But all i see are shades of grey

Visions

Radiance of darkness

One solitary being

Crimson, oozing and pulsing. coagulation.

That sweet scent of ferrous. The life that flows within me…

Is draining away..

Stained, scarred and torn..

Thorns that slit in exposing soft succulent flesh bathed in a warm pool.

Scarlet streams that embrace the milky white skin.

The warmth that soon turns putrid, damp and stale.

Corroded, eroded and back to the ground.

I’ve been constantly pondering over this question, what is my purpose for being here on this filthy planet? I saw on CNA the guy that owns a tyre empire mentioning that his family is his purpose, well i guess thats gd for him.

But what if like something happens like all the people around like gets killed in a genocide, or some diease or some horrific disasterm then what? I know its pretty bullshit, but who cares, this is my blog and i dont think anyone readas it anyway. So long as i try not to point fingers directly and avoid political stuff i think i’m good.

Anyhow, then whats left of your purpose.Will you lose your reason to live? Will i write more crap? Will i stop blogging? Is the chocolate in front of me melting in this tropical greenhouse room of mine? Tune in to the next episode, if it does happen hopefully, sometime somewhere in future.

I’m not sure if it had any direct influence, but i stopped listening to RATM for the time being just in case. Perhaps their songs kept me thinking on alot of stuff. Its probably just coincidence. Hope to pass by the 27 Club.

I guess this happens to be almost all the time, figuratively and literally. I dont seem to have a sense of direction, i dont know where i’m headed, i just want to keep moving. This usually ends up bringing myself for joyrides in circles. Not that actually much joy is being derived from this at times.

I think i should try to write out what i have in my head more often, to just bleed out all the crap thats wrapped up in my head. Maybe thats why last week something happened, i have only told only afew people about the incident. Not that its anything big, but hopefully everythings under control.

If being pessimistic about things seem to bother you, i suggest you stop reading what i have over here. I seem to see things in shades of grey, not that i’m colourblind.As i get older life seems to get more dissapointing as your inch your way to the grave.You cant move as fast, think as fast, cant afford to break your bones, your dreams are a fizzle, sure at least i’m alive, to face tommorows work. I’m not complaining, i guess this is a form for me to let things out. i’m just typing, not really editing.

Everything overhere has no start, no end, has no connection most of the time, much like how my mind operates.It thinks too much of rubbish and complicates the simple.But perhaps the simple arent so to begin with.

Sure its better to feel contented with what you have, but shouldnt looking forward will push you to improve oneself? Its different to rate happiness when everyone’s opinion of it is different, i’m still trying to find mine.

In an anesthetized state of decay, seems to be what i am. When you have a problem and you know what is causing it, then its likely easier to solve it, problem here lies is that i dont know whats causing.

With slit wrists i am left to bleed, shattered and torn, maggots lay at my wounds to feed, the angel of sin has left me forlorn..

i wanted to write a poem, but after thinking for like afew hrs after work, this was all i could come up with.

I think i just killed more than half of my brain cells with it, i simply have no gift.

Fuck!

I really suck..

Mark "Rent-boy" Renton: [narrating] ‘Choose Life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family. Choose a fucking big television, choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players and electrical tin openers. Choose good health, low cholesterol, and dental insurance. Choose fixed interest mortgage repayments. Choose a starter home. Choose your friends. Choose leisurewear and matching luggage. Choose a three-piece suite on hire purchase in a range of fucking fabrics. Choose DIY and wondering who the fuck you are on a Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing, spirit-crushing game shows, stuffing fucking junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pishing your last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, fucked up brats you spawned to replace yourself. Choose your future. Choose life… But why would I want to do a thing like that? I chose not to choose life. I chose somethin’ else. And the reasons? There are no reasons. Who needs reasons when you’ve got heroin? ‘ - Trainspotting 1996.

Are we really given the right to choose? Or have we been trained to obey and work within a set of restricted options that makes us perceive that we are masters of our own destiny? Are we are all just rats in a cage?

Do you remember one of the ads by Cycle & Carriage? They had a Mercedes advertisement where it says something like life should go in the opposite. Start off in your old age, then you own a Mercedes, work in a company, enjoy your teens, make a fool of yourself as a kid and end your life as a orgasm… If only life was this good.

Just got back yesterday. I lost my handphone. For those that still wish to remain in contact but i have no means of contacting you, please send me your number.