Intricate_B

My name is Jason.
Adictions..
I've had many..
Pain..
I've had A LOT...
Love..
Had it (never again though. Its for the birds)
Pain...
Yes...
Family...
Had it..
Wife and kids..
Had them.. (did I mention pain?)
Lost one of 'em...
I am a poet.
Ask me what I do for a few living?
I am a poet..
Am I drunk?
Yes.. but drunken words are sober thoughts..
I bury my pain with booz, and drugs, and various billy bad ass reindeer games.
Do I hurt? More than words in the English language can explain.
What do I want out of life?
To be happy..
Will I ever be?
Probably not.
I am an American fuck up.
I, in complete honesty with myself, will probably end my life on my own terms. Because fuck you!!
Because fuck the world!!
I want to exploit my feelings, and live off of the riches, but realistically and logically speaking, I will drink myself to death before I see a penny..I am depressed.
I constantly question my sanity.
I don't talk to people about shit that needs talked about
I'm a tough guy
But am emotionally soft.
My only outlet for my pain is my writing,
And it is quickly losing its therapeutic properties.
I have written pain on paper that none but I will EVER lay eyes upon in the guise of poetry..
Pain that people can't fathom.
Pain of losing the only things that ever mattered to me..
My kids.
My wife.
My sanity...
My soul,...
My name is Jason,
And I am an American fuck up.
This is my official introduction.


This is a translation of my written word..

My translation of the thoughtless requires the translated sense ofsensibility with the thought process..
Proceed with common sense and process the impossible.
The possibility is that the logical will make sense of the rant of the illogical..
Learn to process the improbable and the impossible becomes possible.. Listen and hear..
Look and see..
The rant of the foolish becomes the litterature of tomorrow..