in a society where the butter on its citizens’ bread equates to liquid money, we can only ask ourselves how long our fitbits should tick until it calculates for us the km’s it’s gonna cost us to find enlightenment.

and isn’t that what we all crave for, enlightenment?

in light of recent events, this does not seem to be the case.

we have women who hustle harder than ever, only to find the power they achieve and exert unto others are the same as the men in suits with wired sockets blowing up when a business deal fails, when it becomes a game of prey and predator, when the lemons of life cannot be squeezed into liquid form, but lest we forget your queen b lemonade stand can always benefit from a developer programming an e commerce store for you,

because with paypal and stripe we can transfer liquid money as easy as liquid honey. because the issue of money isn’t an issue in our society today, because we thrive on digital money, where the bread and butter for our oh so beloved selves and, if lucky enough, maybe even for those who demonstrate all the unconditional love in the world to you, because that’s when you know it’s real.

where does one run to when a person you have given shelter to skins you alive, salt n’ pepper-sprays you into the rain,

what do you do when he throws you into the pit of your lemonade stand?

acidity burns, let me tell you, pit of the lemonade stand, pit of the fire, pit of the fucking fire, acidity fucking burns, man,

and so does that fire, the kind that put out as easily as you were able to turn 180, man, got you sprung, man…

and into the digital we go, the cycle of liquid honey cranks its engines and soon enough, he’ll be throwing you over your lemonade stand as quickly as your wired copper wirings snap before you–

how’s this liquid enlightenment tasting for you?

he mistakes evil for happiness: the good he seeks

I. 1031/1116

i’m the boy version of you from the future

trying to teach you

no guy

is worth your heart

downloading 12 part porn

takes up most of my day

because i worry about you

more than any one else

i did that for me

not for you

you were for me

but i left you too



They say the quiet ones have the most to say

I knew a girl who collected people

She had an actor (a pretender really), an architect,

and for a while she had a writer

He eventually realized he was not much of a writer;

more of a man with the heart of a bird

He flew free from her collection not long after this realization


As if they were things you could collect


we the roses

take me down to the paradise city

where the grass is green and the girls are pretty

you said i was the most exotic flower

i know it’s past visiting hours

but can i  please give her these flowers

coz with my family we know where home is

so instead of sending flowers

you live life on an everyday basis with poetic justice

if i told you that a flower bloomed in a dark room,

would you trust

canals and alleyways, just to say

money trees is the perfect place for shade

and that’s just how i feel 

are we out of the woods yet?

find me in my field of grass

mother nature’s son

swaying daises sing a lazy song beneath the sun

daisy, always climbing up the same tree

finding love in all the wrong scenes, daisy, you got me

starting fires out of dead weeds, daisy, you got

eternal sunshine of the spotless mind

where have all the flowers gone, long time passing?

where have all the flowers gone, long time ago?

where have all the flowers gone?

his heart was a stone, but then his hands roamed

i turned him to gold and it took him higher

but the monsters turned out to be just trees

and when the sun came up,

young girls have picked them everyone

oh, when will they ever learn?

oh, when will they ever learn?

there are always flowers for those who want to see them

dead flowers

supermarket flowers

(nothing but) flowers

lotus flower


flowers in the rain

the flowers of Guatemala

artificial flowers


you don’t bring me flowers

day of the sunflower

come back as a flower

flower child

flowers in your hair

in the flowers

run into flowers

put a flower in your pocket

flowers on the wall

lotus flower bomb

weed instead of roses

i know you think you’re the queen of the underground

and you can send me dead flowers every morning

send me dead flowers by the mail

send me dead flowers to my wedding

and i won’t forget to put roses on your grave

each of us is a flower

she’s a wildflower

furious rose

five little flowers

i like the flowers