I VOTED



Dear President Obama,


I got teary eyed when Senator Barrack Hussein Obama was elected President of the United States of America. I am ready for this change he says, "Yes I Can." It reminds me of my own personal motto "Do, Can, Be."

Some might say the campaign for "change" was a literal one and godforsaken subconscious one.

Episode #8

I saved myself and came to the rescue, admitting to my mother in aggravation my descent into another episode of mania. I smoke joints at a rock concert with a friend, we decided to skip class and see a "Minus the Bear" -@ Revolution" in Ft. Lauderdale, and saw myself performing a rock concert. Partly amazed, in a daze, hallucinating, inter-rumbling (subconscious tightening of suboccipital muscles causing a crepitus in the atlanto-occipital cartilage or simple awareness of a bruit in the artery).

To explain what goes on inside my brain are first the symptoms of pot; elated, relaxed, grandiose, and introspective thoughts. Secondly, the manic forms which bring about irritability, distraction, short-term memory loss, and paranoia. I was feeling the groove, talking with myself, others, and the band, who all looked like me. The two sided dialoge kept me in trance. Almost mixed-mania type schizo-effective. I can only focus on one thing at a time. The movements white/rock dancing- or quickly I soon am overnoteced by the melodic bass-line.

There is no doubt that smoking makes me hallucinate and even worse, psychosis. This rock band were different ages of me, if I had been performing and saw myself in the 3rd person. It was a trip to watch, to say the least, because each musician would move back and forth, dancing melodically and idiosyncratically with one another. There was a girl paired up with every guy and when I went to the spot in the club with more girls, I tried fighting in. I close my eyes to feel the music scale my toes to my cerebelum. Then all of a sudden a bright light always transient but I mean strobe-light. Bright flat in-front of my face.

This same type of trip happened in amsterdam on my way home from the red light district really- high. Either focused on my the direction home (through the little bridges and crazy-brain sidewalks), or focused on how I was walking... not to trip over a cobblestone- or am I walking strange? Should I extend my leg and wow focus on my breath, inhaling turns the streetsides, sidewalks- looking down at my feet, and vision Pulsate and breathe. Other than that I have tunnel vision.

Back to the Minus the bear show. The band was a stand around kind of thing. People just stood zombie like. The lyrics changed from happy and if i tried to think happier it got really elated climaxing in a big Drumfill- strobe flashing and I can't turn to see anyones face. The whole crowd is equally spaced as I look on from a-far, mainstage right. Either I saw a persons face and it was my friend, or I looked and they turned or I heard chatter about me (Paranoia). This wasn't good when I focused back to the music, they would be playing the bridge to some line about, "Maybe something 'sus' chord, and I hate that-t-t-t" Picture these words sung to you with some strange green light: And its almost split side of my brain if I focus too much on the people, music, where I should be, I get stiff.

I can breezly flow in-and-out of my high. By thinking right brained I am feeling the high vibrations and throughout my body i sense my tip. It tells me I need to spread my seed aka be a man. Men how often to you grab your nuts. Hold them and cherish them. NOTICE THEIR THERE.

So how come when I am waiting for class today I deeply set comfort in my seville, nuttin but' dem' LaCks. (Cadallac SeVille) and meditating I close my eyes and see the same Flashing Lights Bright in front of my face?

Now I can sense my balls and then make a desicion to move fowarad. Whats needed to be noted is here- I have embelleshed a personality queit, studius, spiritual, calm. This gets me nothing. I am not a crack addict (sorry J) that can instantly meet up with a sex-feen, just as an example. No I get hypersexuality. And curiosity, so I am split. It seems I could talk to myself on this high and I was cynical, or skeptical, fearful, or arrogant, or unpleseant, and sometimes peaceful. Thinking back egotistical? of coarse. But see this: When I am high, I can bad trip or good trip, or both in a hole of one. Which I dont like... Questions....

Where do you draw the line:

• Curiosity, Mentality, God?, Spirit, Freedom.

What is a factor:

• Transactional communication

The band took turns moving and girating in ways I found curious. The Lead singer, was me singing with long hair in my face, I would sing some lines and then swing-a bit in bent halfway over. At times it seems I lost some backbone, but my guitar and voice was safe. Then step back and ooh now I can see the guitarist. A mix between me and my dad, and he's got 4 loop pedals to to create beautiful strange melody's. (Aparently he does pele-esqe guitar tapping.) Oh shit and not to forget the bassist. A skinny verison of me and real young, he seemed pissed when i looked at him. Suffice to say I was in my own head. I started asking questions. About different personality's, God-My band,- how when I moved closer to the stage, people were yelling [PARANOIA] "Yea!" an the crowd out cheer people behind me or out of site yelling "Get on stage" or "I think he gets it" "You're Gay." [[[Mixed Mania Hallucinations]]]

I get to my main spot, on the corner railing, by the bouncer (continually pushing-> Not paranoia, but annoying.) I was also surrounded by 7 to 10 chicks. They stood like trees, I couldnt' comfortably slide in between them sparsely placed. And when I did it just got worse my technical jargon of control my mind state, self-will, mania, versus the ganga, Which could set me in a trance briefly to instantaneosly quick. I would sway feel the drum solo creep from my left hand, sleeve to my shoulders and right hand relase. My right fingers picked out the guitar notes, I could sing along- To my own song." Humming and Mumbling in the back of my throat to my chest with the bass hits and sense the women infront of me and proximity of our breathe and my prick feeling nice in this arena. The band would end songs with 3 second silence in between. Just enough to get cut off while talking to a girlfriend. This girl looked like the mamacita that was so sparce for-save her own qualities. Nice body, cute face, lost along the way somwhere. Just teasing and playing games. Making fuck faces and replacing fear with hate. Maybe she is someone inside of me. I need to help. But it was FUCKING IRRITATTING when I kept Cutting myself off. Okay I got 3-seconds. "how did you like that.... "LALALALAA. I think so since then I know. In my paranoia, the band. of "Me's" would make fun of me and call me out. A loser, your're gay. I later try and think of it .... at the beach with the girls ... still and the next day before class... Gay means HAPPY. It really does. I have to educate myself to be mo consious of my paranoia
(paranoia) simply means madness (para = outside; nous = mind) UFO's Unified Fucking Objects. My friends and me joke "I just wana fuck something."- Guirella Black. Wana be ass B.I.G. Haters.

I have 2 Tests and One paper that I am not going to do tonight. Because I sat here and wrote all this. This useless junxtaposition of My paranoia. Its not homophobia.


The fact that I made my way through the crowd. May I remind you zombie crowd. I stepped into the velvet lounge. Ahh sounds nice doesn't it? Well I am an addict. When I got one thing 1) Weed . I want another 2) Pleasure. This doesn't matter to whom or hwat is in the way. Ya know? My alcoholism- 1) Blackouts 2) Tresspassing. But Bob Marley would say... we want to be free. Where we want to be, I want to be free. So I entertain myself on the top of the Concert hall balcony surrounded by drapes and a probable *click group of people standing in and around me as I face dead straight in the middle leaning over the balcony between a couple and a guy. My Mania ( Elated -> Grandiosity- i watch the band that all looks like me -> Paranoia --> I start to feel the music in me. Swaying ever so briefly, watching the Panoramic vision of 2 MEN pulsate toward me. ONE WORD: "GAY." My Mania ( Paranoia_consists of people calling me a) stupid b) gay. I get frustrated with people I surround myself with. My mom says turn up the commercials, I say 'I hate commercials' I mute them, she says 'Shows back on' I turn off mute. It is a little loud, and she is telling me its way too loud. I am trying to tell her that i am trying to turn it down, the newman is talking shit, and my mom is asking "Please..." politely, [[[Mania- Eritable, Grandiosity']]] I raise my hand and say I am getting this much irritated right now. And its reaching higher and higher.

Symptoms react interchangeably.

Back to the 'night'
I managed to walk my way through the crowd, who seemed so aroused at the fact that a guy wanted to find his woman. Got kicked out off the velvet sweet. Found my friends who sat by us earlier. My right hemisphere was moving and reacting, intaking (information), and relaying. I was communicating for my life. Eh, just to get some ass. Shows ending, finally get them to hey-day-it w/ me and my friend. Who is back waiting at the car. We shuffle through the crowd. Zombie force brutality crowd. After some trippy corners, stairs. Filled to the brim, the short girls are still behind me. We make it outside I am lost, so I stumble around but my senses bring me to P. We decide to hit-up the beach. I talk to the Jamaican man at the 7-11, he say he down for some 187. PO! PO!. We hit the beach I take the blanket and use it all by myself, being the PRICK, that I learned in chick-pickler upers. P. tells some hillarious jokes, he's got mad game on the jokes. I try to snuggle with her, after putting some lines on her. I get nothing. Except the drunk ass girl who lost her boot strap his touching me pleasantly. Nothing.


I am trying to shoot out the street lights. Thanks to Obama, I can get this movenment happening. I am trying to figure out if that was a good trip or bad a trip