American Carcass
The accents, denim and the red truck painted with red dirt.
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You can earn some good points when you avoid looking at the whore in the gym wearing painted on clothing no matter how many times she walks right in front of you but you lose those good points when you call her a whore. So it goes…
Blessed with Rage. Everything that evokes strong emotion should be saluted. Appreciated as being a component in the Big Control Center that keeps us Human.
Another thing in that tower - emitting onto the Best of Humanity - Jaws theme music duhm duhm.. dorsal out of the waters peak, always moving, weaving around in constant motion and much like the Great White I find that I too Die a little when I’m not moving. Keep moving. Momentum. Mindfulness. Yes because I’m always moving. In the present. Stillness invites troubles and the old ladies at the diner remind me, “you know Winston, the devils best friend is idle hands.”
I promise you young man that you die the day you lose you’re wink and I’ve watched old men with light eyes, hiding hurting knees that can’t help but wink as they walk down the street.
The carcass of Old America,
pre age ‘Merica with the denim, the accent, the land.
Now we see many location specific dialects - gravel drawls or yuppie upticks - muddled, brought to near extinction by increasing infiltration of voices from all crevices of the world at finger tips. You have no accent, you have no roots, you’re a leaf in this world with nowhere to land and the wind is always blowing because you, without a hint of sovereignty, weigh less than a feather and can’t commit to anything and your family and friends don’t miss you anymore, they don’t know the You that You say you are now because somewhere on top of who you think you are, is who you really are and they don’t trust you anymore.
The old stories said there’d always be a porch light on for you to come home but the energy bill got high and the waiting on you got tiresome and you never called so they turned it off and have finally been able to see the stars. As much as they miss the memory of you, you lost the accent, lost what made you special and in the process became the same thing that everyone else is trying to be: the middle of nothing and something.
Today requires grace. Discipline. I could get high all day. I could fuck all day. I could Ubereats. I can sit at my computer. Make some money. I can become Nothing. I can go backwards.
I chose not to! That’s a declaration!
I have eyes wide open, not on my goals but on the increasing itchy and unsatisfactory lifestyles I rub shoulder to shoulder with. We are sensitive and the characteristics of losers are greedy and will try to jump from them to you, spreading a virus of failure.
Soon enough you’ll watch too much tiktok, your eyes will be dead. You won’t trust that you’re loved when you are because you won’t love yourself.
They said you had potential!
I hope you surpassed it.
Winston
Souled Idea
Mr. Problematic
The Inverted Downslope
