original quote-"Catalysts to say what has never been said, to see what has never been seen. To draw, paint, sing, sculpt, dance and act what has never before been done. To push the envelope of creativity and language. And whats really important is, I call it, the felt presence of direct experience. Which is a fancy term which just simply means we have to stop consuming our culture. We have to create culture. Don't watch TV, don't read magazines, don't even listen to NPR. Create your own roadshow. The nexus of space and time, where you are now, is the most immediate sector of your universe. And if you're worrying about Michael Jackson or Bill Clinton or somebody else, you are disempowered. You are giving it all away to icons. Icons which are maintained by an electronic media, so that you want to dress like X or have lips like Y. This is shit-brained this kind of thinking. That is all cultural diversion. And what is real is you and your friends, your associations, your highs, your orgasms, your hopes, your plans, and your fears. And we are told no. We're unimportant, we're peripheral, get a degree, get a job, get a this, get a that, and then you're a player. You don't even want to play in that game. You want to reclaim your mind and get it out of the hands of the cultural engineers who want to turn you into a half-baked moron consuming all this trash that's being manufactured out of the bones of a dying world." Terence McKenna

Teddy

The dark knight rises as the dark night falls. Weary, he zips up his hoody and steps out the door. The cool night’s air embraces his demeanor, and the wet grass glistens like the stars in the sky. He knows his directions but not which way he is going and time has become more of a reference than a guide. He nods to a neighbor, who is still a complete stranger, but he hopes his gesture helps him become more at ease. One foot in front of the other. Inside his head he wonders, why he finds so much comfort in what others tend to shy away from. And if he does not fear what others tend to, does that make him or them the wiser? For he cautious while he wonders yet he enjoys the certainty of the uncertainty of what will or will not arise throughout his journey. His life has meaning, yet it is one, which he hasn’t figured out. He is an introvert, but his thoughts seem to never shut up. He is constantly discussing and re-discussing philosophies and theories some of which he made himself, which still stand to be true. The dark knight is neither lonely nor sad. He is actually kind of glad he does not have to worry about anyone at this moment. He can finally enjoy just being. 
[Being- (noun) the state or quality of having existence.]
He arrives at a party, one, which he was invited to and decided to attend despite his mild social anxiety. For he doesn’t mind being out in public, most of the time he would rather just be alone. The dark knight enters the house and is greeted by many friends, and others who know him. But this gathering is not about him. He says his   hellos and one by one they all return to what they were previously doing.
He spots someone who he thinks to be more than a surface friend and they look happy to see him. At this point someone has turned on their favorite song and the music level has become one, which does not allow for casual conversation and anyone who dares to not dance is forced to either silence or yelling in someone else’s ear. He makes two attempts at verbal communication before he gives up and points to his friends drink. His friend understands and points to the refrigerator, which the dark knight opens and finds himself a beer. The sound system is so percussive and the sub woofer is so loud that he notices the vibrations transpiring through liquids in the refrigerator; much like the famous scene from the movie “Jurassic Park.” He wonders to himself if these vibrations are healthy, or are they just the consequence of pain for someone else’s pleasure. He takes a sip from his drink and ponders how much he will let himself drink tonight. He has never been a fan of blacking out and more nights than not he takes the responsibility of watching over someone who won’t remember him doing so. 
He has always felt the need to protect, but not in an authoritative way. He likes to protect in a way, which coincides with the name the “dark knight”. He wishes he could protect everyone from this song which, in his opinion, isn’t that good. It is so repetitive and predictable it makes him want to scream. 
But even if he did would anybody hear him? (SCREAM!)
Though he has just arrived, he takes his drink outside into the welcoming night and looks up at the sky. He enjoys the light from the stars showing through thickening clouds. He feels cheated knowing that most of what he sees is already gone and that some of what he sees isn’t what he thinks. 
He takes out his iPod puts in his headphones and plays a metal song, knowing that it will help sooth his nerves (make it go away). For some reason he found the technicality, speed, and aggression of the genre to always be calming to him; hence his love for it(I cant have enough).
 He wishes he was at home making his own music, or doing anything more substantial than attending the party that will be forgotten in a week’s time. For his biggest insecurity isn’t to ever be noticed, but to never be forgotten. He wants his life to have meaning. He wants to leave behind a legacy. 
His thoughts are interrupted as someone steps out to smoke a cigarette. He puts his headphones away and greets his acquaintance and they exchange small talk, something he has always dreaded. As the smoker ignites his lighter and brings it towards his face, the dark knight stares at the flame. Captivated by its majestic beauty, he marvels at such a simple invention that combined flint, steel, and a flammable gas, which literally changed the world. Holding fire in one’s hand is probably one of the greatest feats a human can perform. For, had it not been for its discovery our species most likely would have died out a long time ago. 
Throughout evolution no other species has ever been able to create, sustain, or manipulate fire. 
Interrupted once more the dark knight notices a streak of lightning illuminating the sky. Taking that as his queue to leave, he says goodbye to his new acquaintance and pauses; wondering if he should go in and say bye to his other friends, but figures there isn’t much of a point since he can still hear the music coming from the house on the sidewalk where he now stands. Not knowing when the rain will fall he puts up his hood and continues his journey. While he walks the Dark Knight reflexes upon the events which had just occurred. He hopes that the sound system is running through a surge protector, which would prevent the frying of the speakers, should a power surge occur. He also hopes his friends enjoy the rest of their night; they deserve to be happy. (In fact, everyone does.)
On the way home he stops at a gas station for a few supplies he would like to have later. As he enters the store he immediately puts his hood down for he does not want to cause any sort of discomfort to anyone in the gas station.  He knows his physique can be intimidating to those smaller than him, and his black attire does not help. Luckily, his voice is naturally gentle and pacifying to those who speak to him. Rarely does he speak to someone without being spoken to first. It is not because of pride nor does he have a big ego, he is naturally a quiet person who does not have much to say (out loud).
 He does not wear all black to fit a certain image nor to portray a certain lifestyle. He wears black because he feels the most comfortable in it’s darkness. It is warm and soothing to him. He is after all the Dark Knight. He purchases a few items and resumes his journey home.  
Upon arriving home he picks a guitar and strums it just to hear the strings oscillate. Though he would much rather play drums, it is far too late and he is considerate of his neighbors and their serenity. He hears the raindrops, which start to percuss on the window and roof above.  Inside his head once more he goes. His thoughts never end. He questions his existence and if he died at this very moment how many people would weep for him. He then questions himself for the thought that he had just pondered. He knows that he is still young and has so much more to live for. He gets a text from his friend asking where he went. The dark knight takes a moment to think of a feasible lie and replies to his friend that he “had to run home because he had left his windows open and it looked like it was about to rain.” He puts down the phone, takes off the guitar and lies in the bed. He is too restless to sleep but too tired to do anything else. He inhales deeply, exhales slowly, and enjoys the sensations of just being alive. He is content.

Missing Link

The night was cool but your skin was warm to the touch.
Our perspiration glistened in the moonlight. We were one in the same. Two connected beings. Needing each other more and more with each fuck. Your eyes rolled back and you held your legs wider panting “take me I’m all yours.” I quickly obliged while going deeper inside. Taking what wasn’t mine. I had you. I had you a state of bliss. You were my submissive. In my arrogance I clenched my hand around your neck.
I couldn’t let you go even if I wanted to. You looked so happy with me in and on top of you. I penetrated harder, trying to go further inside of you as if you could swallow me whole. You told you were right there, begged me not to stop, you briefly froze then I felt you explode.
If there is a heaven I think I found it inside of you.
Your body turned to putty, you were growling and moaning; a primal in your purest state. To further your submission, I had to change the position. I pulled out, told you to “turn around, ass up, face down.” You let a whimper escape as I slid back inside. Now you are only here for my pleasure. I grabbed your hips, and penetrated, like a well lubricated piston. You couldn’t escape even if you wanted to try. The sound of our skin clashing broke the stillness of the night. I announced I was getting close. You pleaded, “Please cum for me master” And I did, at the height of my bliss, I thought of your sister.

An Explicit 69 Bars

I was riding in her car one evening. The destination of our journey in this particular story is trivial. I remember, we were sweetly chatting and listening to the radio. Our hair danced in the wind. We wore dark sun-glasses because we were bad-asses and it was sunny. A normal car ride it would have been until the point where her favorite song at the time came on the radio. She relished in excitement and I became conscious of how beautiful she was when she was happy. 
She asked if I had ever heard this song before to which I said no. She turned the volume knob and the song triumphed over the wind and then, she started to sing along. About a minute or so in, she looked at me and asked if I liked the song. Trying not to sound like a hipster, I told her it sounds all right, the lyrics are nice, but the other components of the song seemed uninspired. I could tell she was confused by my answer. To be honest, it caught both of us off guard. Though the sentence originated in my head, sprang from lips and tongue, leapt through the air landing on her pierced ears, which tunneled my vocal vibrations to her brain, which made sense of them. She simply looked at me and said “what?” and we laughed.   
I was trying to come up with the right words to explain what all I had meant. There was a moment of silence, but not really because the song was still playing. I don’t remember where we were going but I do recall she had cross two lanes to turn left at an approaching intersection. For a moment, she was more focused on keeping us alive. 
Finally I spoke. I asked her if she had ever tried to listen to a song while mentally blocking out the words? Or if she ever has listened to a musical piece that was completely instrumental and loved how it made her feel? Has she ever listened to an artist who chose to speak to the world not with their own voice, but with their instrument(s) of choice? Are lyrics and vocals the only reason that you like a song?
There was another moment of silence. Even the radio seemed to quieten. I could tell, she went deep inside her mind to find the right response. And then, she gave up told me she did not understand. She said “Lyrics are the way the artist connects with their audience. The vocal melody is what gives all the other instruments purpose. To me, the words are most important element of a song. The rest is just there to accompany them.”
I told her no.
I see how you think that but I whole-hearted disagree. It is the opposite for me, music is what gives words meaning.
Now I want you to listen to this upcoming piece. It was written in hopes to let you feel something without there ever being words.
I want you to relax. Take a deep in through your mouth and slowly release it out your nose. You are the center of your universe right now. Everyone and everything else is completely secondary. 
Let the melody comfort your mind. Let the fragrance of the cadence bring you pleasure. Let the kick of the drum resonate in your own pulse. Let the vibrations of the tones become your essence. Let every note roll through your spirit like a wave. Feel the music. Experience it. Please do this for me.


liv王vil