John Henry; The Martyr...The Messenger...

Here I am, 30 years old, miserable, cynical, and fucking exhausted. Facebook asks me "What's on your mind?" I scroll through a perpetual page of people who have something to share that's either funny, trivial, intent on provoking mainstream political correctness, or something intellectually pertinent or proximal to their current lived experience. Taking into account the collective, they're all beyond my grasp of reality, they all seem happy, content, proud of their own personal achievements, and have a definitive share of influence over their respective audiences. Only thing I use the medium for is looking up ex's, rubbing one out to the memories and shortly after, regretfully reminding myself of their not so attractive/corrosive/volatile qualities. In the meantime I'm inadvertently reminded of how much my life sucks, how detrimental my past decisions have become, and why it's so difficult for me to let go of my self-loathing complex.

I hate myself for a collection of reasons. Some reasons are simple, some more complex, others are skeletal remains pouring out of full closets... No matter what I seem to accomplish in life, I know something is lurking in the shadows ahead, bloodthirsty and intent on reminding me how damaging the slightest bit of hubris can be. Whether it be life experience, academic credentials, some $$$$ put in savings to get ahead; I have no expectation of the stars aligning, no rejuvenated spirit to ride, no hopes and dreams of seeing any light at the end of any tunnel. The individual reading this might see a pattern developing here, but I'll cut you off at the pass; unlike the butt-hurt parasitic whiners of yesteryear, I'm unique. I have an innate sense of personal accountability when it comes to my outlook, attitude, and my lack of positivity. In a sense, I don't think I'm wired in a way that would ever allow, or for that matter, find the slightest hint of solace in someone else's sympathetic offerings.

Nothing brings more happiness than throwing myself upon some laborious mundane task. I find refuge in the sweat and the dirt. It distracts my carcinogenic thoughts, and allows me the opportunity to forget the cancer breeding inside me, and affords me the option of ignoring the collapsing world around me. Hopefully my heart just gives out or a bubble ruptures behind my eyes. I'd much rather be the man who died with a hammer in his hand than the man who bled out on a wooden cross, with an audience in his eyes, and nails in his wrists.


-^- Pulse

Gorging myself with the old limbo 'sammich... The idea of saying goodbye to my personal hopes, dreams, and aspirations tastes like a chocolate covered piece of shit. One part of me says that the other part is walking out, and he took all the cool shit with him. On the other hand the growth of my son has evolved into the flavorful shell of why I grace this earth. I see a great deal of potential in his eyes, as if he's destined to do great things, never flinching at fear or stuttering on the thought of failure. I'll tread water with a smile if he inherits my delusional appetite for creativity.

Life; welcome to the greatest gift life has to offer... How streamlined and efficient... Wisdom is a a frighteningly sarcastic and funny mother fucker.

-^-

StreetfighterUSA

Going to start a build in the blog. Things on the net are far more distracting when it comes to building a bike, especially on a forum that sees a great deal of traffic. Sadly, I have parted with www.customfighters.com. The nightmare that is Vertical Scope recently purchased the forum, and I foresee the place turning into an absolute corporate fucking goatshow. The moderation seems to think that the only way of preventing that is through good intentions and a close knit community. I hope they're right, but the delivery of news, in regards to the VS purchase went spiraling out of control. You could definitely see how future conflicts will be treated from here on out.

I have entered a new forum, and a new platform for bike building. It's run by a good friend, and someone that truly applies a standard to the Street Fighter movement. So, by all means, if you happen to be curious about building any kind of bike; stunt, cafe, chop, be sure to stop by and sign up... www.streetfightersusa.com....

Focus on the build is my personal goal going into it all...

Dear America: Get Fucked.

Please conjure up the blind patriots and send them towards the grape shot proud. Disposable cattle force-fed dreams of greener pastures, mindlessly meandering en route to the slaughterhouse with smiles and espri de'corp. Shit smells of roses!; - if you're engrained with the "goonies never-say-die" attitudinal response mechanism. Slave begot slave, begot more fucking slaves which own slaves till the catastrophic failure of the machine(novel concept). Fuck it. Fuck it all...

There is a new level of stalker out there...

Holy shit. I remember Lance (Gdogg07) asking for my help some time ago. He asked "If you're near the Miami area will you please place flowers on the grave of my nephew. I unfortunately was unable to take on the task be it that I was on the opposite coast... He understood... Fast forward to today, and I see that there is a lingering cancer attaching itself to the lives that lost that day. This wretched excused for a human being, Laura Freed, has taken it upon herself to follow the mother whom lost the child reminding her of her fatal mistake, defaming her character, and publicly pursuing her via a blog for the past year reminding her of her deceased child... What a poor excuse for a human being... Everyone else is crazy though...

That moment belonged to us...

I’ll forever remember those shirt soaking tears,
how they carved canyons filled by nothingness and fears.
Dark days of wander, forever asking why,
losing faith and all it’s color, buried by cloudy skies.
Looking up and praying, life in unsteady sway,
something revived my heart’s cadence, by cutting through the grey.
It’s light was sharp and vivid, brightened the night’s sky,
though living a mere moment’s grace, forever where it lie.
She had my hand in hers that night, driving in her car,
little did she know, she’d also stole my heart.
I made a wish that night, and she had no idea.
It was casual and soft, but nonetheless more real.
Hunger never consumed soul, in this burning way
Grant my wish dear falling star and let her forever stay…

Marxism in the age of singularity..

Marxism is such an abused theory in our current society. You have your conservatives that refuse it's possible implementation, and the revolutionary radicals that force it down everyone's throat. I disagree with both avoiding staunch denials and radical validation, and try to establish truth through fact.

Communism is a very plausible platform, provided scarcity becomes extinct. In this current day of depleted resources the existence of communism is impossible. Humanity is the volatile variable that prevents the concept of utopia. Ergo, individuals that cite failed examples of the platform such as North Korea, capitalistically evolving China, or the fallen Soviet Union are siting corrupted examples. Following the Marxist theory, you cannot force communism upon a society, society forces communism upon itself.

Now apply the theory of technological singularity. The possibilities of this theory are endless, but it seems to attack the largest problem ailing humanity... Scarcity. Death, fossil fuel, hunger, and war are all on the proverbial chopping block. Provided we overcome this obstacle, the idea of communism becomes a valid option in regards to our existence.

Weird thoughts, just thought I would share...

-^-Pulse