A live jam with Guitarist Jeremy B. and myself B-Random.

Squisher

it's good enough to share, but not good enough to promote.

Building Up

Loops, Vocals, Boring Drums, Boring Bass/lead

IAMIIAMIAM

Greyerer

RustyRusty Ro Bot

Wandering through Moods as they Multiplicitously Drift by the Seat of Consciousness.

DRE3M WE3VR

Diaper Time

I'm a little bit proud, a little more bewildered.

Who even listens

Coffee Stains upon the page

Embrace:
Come tie the noose, 
around my neck,
then string me up,
and watch me struggle
to my death.
O' the old oak tree, 
what sort of fate 
you got for me?
O' the old oaken branch,
may your strength see me to my death.
O' the old sailor's rope, 
hold me 'til I choke.

Embrace

Marching Toward  The Abyss

Perhaps, 
if we didn't attempt to distill our thoughts into generic bumper sticker statements to be presented to the world of our peers,
 as if our own fluid and ever-evolving depth of understanding had been freeze-framed and displayed as our indignant permanent personal perspective on the world with our own self-regard at the center of the experience, 
we beings, the Crux in the revolution of the shift in thought of the others we assume to be impacting
... All of this fed-back to us as confirmation, via pre-selected array of emotion laden knee-jerk reactions... 
The decision to mark your emotive reaction in the records of your history of decisions only adds to the knowledge base that can be used against you to steer your decision-making capacities by the very emotions 'they' have artificially learned to trigger based on your own volunteered information throughout the years of "sharing" and "reacting" to a litany of stimuli generated and presented algorithmically as to determine the most preferred ordinacy of emotional stimulation, so as to provoke  prolonged self-exposure and seeking of self-perpetuating debate to further solidify stances that were mere passing thoughts moments ago, composed amidst and mix of emotions too indeterminable to distinctly define...that is, until a narrow and parsimonious band of pre-selected options are once again presented as we sit with our technological touch-point, ready to further our interaction with the world, the people, organizations, and PR platforms that we have personally chosen to shape our worldview and niche fascinations that compel us to refine and specialize our personal knowledge-base to best adapt and feel that we belong in a world where we believe we have filtered out enough of the undesirable realities of our brief existence here, amongst others who also share in the brevity of their own existence and simultaneous coexistence in a time and place that we can only presume they had no choice in determining, but were mere determinants themselves, within an ongoing series of determinations brought down by a multitude of inordinate yet endlessly interacting interplays of co-mutual existences sharing commonality in the endless episodes of passing time and proximal space.

Perhaps...

Empty

The soundtrack playing in my mind during snapshots of the interplay between memory and emotion.

Aeolious

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