SONG OF THE DAY: These Things I've Come To Know

I saw seven different James McMurtrys this evening, the first one at Shady’s when I stopped to get gas. Some chump was in front of me behind a work truck in one of them new fangled Corvettes, easily the stupidest fucking fake muscle car out of that whole genre of stupid cars. But James McMurtry had him hemmed in with the work truck while he paid for his gas and got a ice cold Mountain Dew. James came out smiling, even chatted up some dude next row over before finally driving off. Got my gas and went to the Food Lion and saw four more James McMurtrys there, one of them mad dogging me, maybe because of the mask I still wear (fuck y’all, gonna wear this shit til I die at this point, fuck your feelings about masks), then another was hilariously looking for marked down chicken, just like me, and we cursed the price of existence. I knew one of the James McMurtrys, saw him while I was checking out and he came, guess ol’ boy lives in that town now, like 15 minutes from my place. Told me his girlfriend lives up near me though. Then riding home, saw two more James McMurtrys, the next to last one sitting on his porch as I drove the back roads back home to my simple assed house in this little ass town famous for the Waltons. That last James McMurtry was sitting there the other day too, vibing on the porch, and we waved the knowing wave that James McMurtrys gives each other. And then I saw the last James McMurtry, as I was backing around the dead tree with the hubcaps nailed to it in my front yard, looking back from the rear view mirror, with his ridiculous beard and amethyst crystal necklace and worn out embroidered Celtics jersey from seven lifetimes ago. I smiled at him, took the groceries inside, changed into the tiniest Nike shorts I got, and started making dinner. Spaghetti tonight.

TH3 D0'S 4ND D0NT'S TH1S CVLTVR3...

the do’s and don’ts this culture 
demands will fade away with 
time; observe your heart foremost 

SONG OF THE DAY: Low Down (chopped & kudzu'd)

Had a bad day or two here where there was some anger and pain from the past that I didn’t realize was still there, which got unexpectedly dredged up by a simple interaction with someone else showing their thoughtlessness about anyone but themselves, while also assuming the role of eternal victim. It becomes hard to give a fuck about yourself to step up in those moments, because you’re already positioned as the person taking advantage. Anyways, I can recognize that shit quicker now though, and don’t get lost in depressive episodes like I used to, and don’t run head first into walls as a self-destructive act of knocking the pain away either. Hard as fuck to learn and practice new habits, especially when people take advantage of your weakness and kindness. But fuck it, ain’t nobody gonna do it but you. Fuck the haters, especially those that portray themselves as lovers. Those are the worst kind of haters – secret double reverse psychology snake haters, wrapped up in self-centered good vibes.

1NST1TVT10NS T3ND T0W4RDS...

institutions tend towards 
failure, leaving gaping holes; 
loungers learn art of patching 

SONG OF THE DAY: Xuduud Ma Leh Xubigaan (This Love Has No Boundaries)

The algorithms lack natural rhythm, that's why everything is so fucked up. I've been checking the river for trending topics lately and it's really been beneficial to my psychic state. The river is way less likely to lie than an algorithm, at least as far as I've seen. Rather than building walls around my fears, allowing them to ferment in dark madness, the river washes a lot of dumb shit away, and my heart can think more clearly to let my brain know when it's tripping out on some bullshit.

1 41N'T N0TH1NG BVT 4 M4N...

I ain’t nothing but a man 
trapped within this physical 
existence, stumbling along 

R04D D0G P1LGR1M4G3S T0...

road dog pilgrimages to 
where the patron saints of lounge 
gather when necessary 

G0TT4 K33P C3L3BR4T1NG...

gotta keep celebrating 
life even if the world feels 
like it’s closing in on you 

SONG OF THE DAY: Oldie Kinda Lovin'

Some would argue it’s in bad taste to enjoy yourself as your mythologically moral institutions fall apart before your eyes. But ultimately the institutions are not compromised so much as they were never what we were told in the first place. Thus, I’d say it’s more important than ever to find ways to enjoy yourself as our late American institutions continue to fail the majority of us. Like think about throwing a Molotov cocktail, and imagine doing it stressed and angrily. But then imagine performing the same act with joy and a touch of whimsy, how easily the arm rotates to fling the bottle with lit wick at a higher, more exuberant arc. I’d say it’s in bad taste to be too serious about shit like this because it gives the institutions we need to replace too much credit for being serious. They’re not. Many of these hallowed institutions are pretty hollow. Fuck ‘em.

BV1LD1NG P13C3M34L SP1R1TV4L...

building piecemeal spiritual 
generators of joy in 
world too damned industrious 

SONG OF THE DAY: Smile (With Yo Gold)

“Smile Now Cry Later” the clown tattoos keep saying, but I can’t seem to hear them well enough to practice it. Maybe I need to get it tattooed into my own skin, with hobo clowns, to force the message into my body, making a stubborn goat-headed man finally see the light. “Smile Now Cry Later” as a mocking reminder in the mirror every morning, after spitting charcoal toothpaste into the sink, hobo clowns bastard faces reminding me that I never disappeared, and the frustrations of stuckness are unhacked weeds which grow into hawthorn bushes, prickly frustrating walls that get too high to navigate. Not enough machete swinging in my life, on neither the physical nor astral planes.

L0VNG1N' W1LL 4LW4YS R3QV1R3...

loungin’ will always require 
more vision than money; you 
can’t just buy into true lounge 

PR4CT1C3 4LT3R1NG MVND4N3...

practice altering mundane 
existence with altars to 
your own favored chaoses 

PR4CT1C3 R3V1T4L1Z1NG...

practice revitalizing 
your mind at power zones you 
never define for others 

SONG OF THE DAY: Going Way Back

Never finished the second season of that Wu Tang tv show, because I got bored with it. I did enjoy the fact they had Just Ice show up and question a young RZA about supreme mathematics, even though the actual Just Ice said that never actually happened. While I enjoyed the first season, and don't mind people taking artistic liberties with actual biographies necessarily, unfortunately all it will lead to is like people like Elon Musk creating shows that rewrite their own histories more favorably. Then again, they probably already do that. Anyways, here's Just Ice.

TH3 L1N3 B3TW33N T00 MVCH L0VNG3...

the line between too much lounge 
and lethargy of spirit ain’t 
all that easy to define 

SONG OF THE DAY: I Walk On Gilded Splinters

Sometimes when life feels like a crushing pile of stones sitting on top of your heart, mind, and soul, you just gotta vibe. Vibes are unpredictable though and when you think “well this was great vibes 3 months ago” and try it again, conditions ain’t the same and it doesn’t work. Vibes aren’t scientific, and science is limited because it needs shit to be perfectly the same to prove itself as truth. The actual world changes an infinite number of variables an infinite number of times for every 69 steps you took, so science ain’t ever gonna catch up with the limitless permutations of universal magnetics. But if the vibes are super far off when trying to replicate previous vibes, which happens a lot to me, I just do the opposite of a few things – like the exact opposite, but also the same of some things. This is like rolling a shitty pair of dice on your first throw so you shake the shit out of them extra hard, and then the second one usually hits – if you’re lucky. But vibes is not a dice game so even if you’re unlucky, keeping shaking the shit out of everything until the vibes hit right. But when the world is a crushing pile of stones, unseen but all to fucking real feeling, you gotta shake shit up, and find the power of lounge. And if you don’t find it right away, you best keep on trying because best believe this world which we live in has got a bunch of trifling ass brains manufacturing as many more stones as possible to drop on your ass. Keep shaking shit up though, and find a nook to chill in.

M4K1NG G4M3S 0F SVRV1V4L...

making games of survival 
to keep smiling as triflin’ 
world spins faster and faster 

L0VNG3RS B33N M4K1NG 0LD SH1T...

loungers been making old shit 
look like a precision planned 
explosion of vibes forevs 

SONG OF THE DAY: John They're Stealing Part 1

Over the winter, I was working on sewing patches on a few pairs of overalls, because I have southern gothicc futuristic visions of being a back roadside artist, wearing fucked up overalls, and selling haiku spikes, bottle poems, and clankyjangers to anyone who bothers to find me, either on purpose or by chance. I got a bunch of patches here or there, different varieties, but always cost conscious. Thirstin Howl III is a member of the underground legendary Lo-Life Crew, on top of being an infamous rapper. Lo-Lifes boosted Polo gear, and had a big part in spreading that labels popularity in hip hop music. I mean these dudes were rocking all Polo gear, all the time. It is no coincidence that perhaps me bumping Thirstin Howl III again is related to all that and my recent conversion to only wearing Polo crew socks for some reason, in about 19 different colors, in order to match the little Polo dude with literally any shirt I could possibly own (except purple… what the fuck Polo?). Anyways, Thirstin Howl’s website had black and white as well as color versions of a Lo-Life patch available, but fuck, he was asking $40 per patch, plus shipping. What the fuck? I never understand how street labels will print up shirts or clothes, and then just fleece the ever-living fuck out of anybody who might want to buy one, and then get mad that nobody supports them. $40 for a fuckin’ patch? Fuck that. So I sent Ralph Lauren an email seeing if he’d steal me one.

L0VNG3RS B33N W4RN1NG TH3 W0RLD...

loungers been warning the world 
of unloungin’ behaviors 
since the beginning of time 

1 PR4CT1C3 M4G1CK D41LY...

I practice magick daily, 
constantly scattering my 
simple scribble prayers out 

SONG OF THE DAY: Widow Wimberly

When folks self-identify as some sort of milf, that kinda freaks me out. Seems very narcissistic. That doesn’t have anything to do really with this song, other than the fact I was thinking the general state of affairs means we don’t use the term “widow” all that much like we once did. Although to be honest, I’m not sure I’ve ever called anybody a widow in real life. Who has the time?

VN1V3RS4L TRVTHS H1J4CK3D...

universal truths hijacked 
by mythologies ingrained 
in brain from a tender age