what i want doesnt exist

i want to pick you up at the airport
like i park in the overpriced parking lot over there
i go through security and meet you right at the gate when youre
coming out
no talking
smiles of course
dont care how you look
dont care how you smell
dont care if theres lipstick or b.o. or eyeliner
dont care if your shirt doesnt say busblog
in pink cursive
somehow youve got me pinned against the wall outside the cinnabon
people browsing in hudson news dont notice
cops in the cams do but
people are late. people are early
and you are pressed hard against me as a stewardess says
to the ticket agent
i can see her

heres what i dont wanna be

i dont wanna be a sell out loser phony baloney two face nonsense maker

i dont wanna do things that anyone else can do

in a fancy cheese store in the south of france i dont wanna be sliced american

i wanna be brie but not any old cheapass dumbshit hey target has brie? brie.

i wanna have a little kick to it.

i want to make that ritz cracker say dude this would be so much better on a baguette

in a bakery tucked away in nowheresville i wanna be a skinny baguette your true love tucks under their arm

or puts in a basket on a bike and ring ring as they pedal down the cobblestone

i wanna be something thats not like the other things but not in a showoff way but in a

fuck yeah way.

i’ll probably frighten those prone to being frightened.

not because im reckless or dangerous or wild or scary.

but because im free.

i wanna be me.

what do you do what do you do what do you

do when all the paths are there for you

take the shiny take the true take the crazy take the new

which is the one where is the fun

and how will you know which one

she lives in a rainbow on a daydream through the edges of a myth

sings like a blue jay on a sunday who just had her first kiss

nobody knows the troubles she’s seen

nobody knows her real name

few have witnessed the light in her eyes

like a sunbeam through the soft rain

so what do you do when the brown turns to blue

and the ivy switches to green

roll the dice say yr prayers fingers crossed

and hope your spirit is clean

what if the what ifs are right

what if the voices are speaking from the future and they know and theyre there to protect us and especially you then what do you do what do you say what if they know

which is an excellent question for this weeks ask tony and i know the answer to that perfectly and here it is

there are two songs on the playlist. neither are good. the one is the mopey sad scared boring panicking drone that says its not gonna happen everyones out to get you the end of the world is nigh

the other is saying oh but youre the exception to the rules youre the chosen one youre the golden child incapable of failure, try, try, try all will be well, and then vacation a little more you deserve it!

dont you think basketball players at the free throw line hear the people booing and shouting and trying to distract them

of course. and they know theres nothing good in listening, so they listen to the other song, you can make this, you can do this, you have done it, youve done it millions of times, just hit it and smile on your jog back down the court

practice your acceptance speeches, not your defenses

prepare for success, not death

seek out the fuck yes

the whisper in the darkness

he’ll go right in your ear and say you aint shit, you cant do that, you faked it before, sure as hell cant even fake it now

and if anyone else in the world whispered that nonsense to you you’d say fool get out my way

but as sonic youth and lydia lunch whisper

youre right

youre right

you are right

which is what you should say to the devil when he’s got your ear

and the bat’s got yr tongue.

(so when you say it say it like you mean it

say it like) it’s the first time youve heard it

not the millionth – that day

deep in the gully

down on the yonder

i wanna i wanna i wanna i wanna

it’s never the hard things that are hard

video games teaches us this.

it’s never the big burly boss at the end of a level that you have to beat that makes you lose all your guys

it’s the minutiae, the little turtles popping up along your journey, the quick spiders that fall on you, the little bits of lava that you don’t pay that much attention to as you run and jump and swing

PAY ATTENTION TO THE LAVA

video games are trying so hard to teach us how life is and we are always trying to stop kids from playing them. it’s crazy.

no, junior, you cannot play this game on the easy level forever. at some point you need to up the ante. you have to learn new tricks, you have to read the book that came with it AND the books that outsiders wrote. and yes, virginia, in order to win at video games, as with life you have to try new things, alllllll the time.

will you die trying them? yes. but you will also die not trying them.

video games teaches us so much about death. way more than war movies or the bible or classic paintings. if you play Donkey Kong, for example, the average game lasts less than 3 minutes. so basically you are dying once every minute.

even when you “win” at Donkey Kong (level 22), you don’t win, you die 7 seconds into the level because of “an integer overflow in its time/bonus. The game takes the level number a user is on, multiplies it by 10 and adds 40. When you reach level 22, the time/bonus number is 260, which is too large for its 8-bit 256 value register, so it resets itself to 0 and gives the remaining 4 as the time/bonus – which too short to finish the level.”

just like Life, when you have accomplished all the things you have been told you have to achieve, they still figure out a way to kill you.

a valuable lesson that life if fleeting. die with your boots on. and life is about the journey not the destination.

it’s never the hard things that are hard. it’s the getting there.

why i love people

i have had a good life. i blame my mom.

she taught me early on not to be afraid of strangers.

when i was little she used to say, “say thank you to that man.” or “i better hear you say ‘Excuse me’ to that lady you just bumped in to.”

these last few weeks i have been talking to strangers which might be my favorite thing of all. i am completely fascinated with people’s stories, how they became who they are.

but i also love to hear them talk. like what words they use. what details they find interesting in a story. and best of all, what they try to hide from me.

i am always surprised. i try to be honest with them. my car license plate says XBI, which most people know means that we can read your mind or know when you’re lying. even if youre wearing sunglasses. even if youre french. naturally everyone lies, but sometimes you’re sitting there and you wonder, why are they bullshitting me on this? no one cares about this. why this?

i once had a supervisor, when i was young and asked this. he said the best thing. “when you listen to hard rock, particularily a guitar solo, theres all this distortion all around the notes. thats what these little lies are. atmosphere. flourish. a frame. don’t let it throw you.”

i know people are scared. i know trust is a bitch for a lot of people. im sure i would be freaked out by the world a lot more if i didnt have super powers. but isnt that what religion is supposed to do for people? isn’t that what experience is supposed to bring you: trust that a + b = c?

and yet the people who exhibit trust the most when i talk to them are kids. the ones who have zero experience, zero power, zero reason to believe. yet they do. with me at least.

this week i have talked with a lot of interesting people. yesterday for four hours on venice beach as pretty girls and freaks paraded past us. i will be forever grateful of the experiences that i have had and i will continue to use that to fight evil and reflect goodness.

and the best way i can do that is to never bullshit you. ever. even when the going gets tough.

men are from mars, women like penis*

biggest problem i have in sensual relationships is when a sobbing young lady spills her guts to me describing her problems

i give advice.

i’ll give you advice even if you arent crying.

hell, i give advice on here to people who arent even seeking advice.

bottom line: im garbage and should probably be avoided.

but some have been unable to avoid my charms and end up in a romantic relationship with me and are bombarded with

if i was you i woulda said this or

you shoulda done that

or have you tried this technique

or in my day we woulda just done it thisaway.

amber gets so upset when she is trying to confide in me she has thrown phones, books, and even a tire at me out of frustration.

a long time ago Etienne would say “stop bossing me, busblog” and i didnt fully grasp what her problem was with me but now it is clearer. im terrible.

if you tell me it hurts when i do this

im gonna say stop doing that.

when all they wanted was someone to listen. but i am not a listener. im a fixer. im michael cohen minus the secret recording devices. i am a problem solving machine. i enjoy fixing. i do not enjoy listening and keeping my mouth shut.

my innards do not work that way. my brain says “this girl you love is in pain, give her the pain relief no matter what it is. be the hero. use your love gun. put a bandaid on the problem. BEGIN THE BEGUINE.”

but i am told in more ways than one that a beguine is not being ordered. two ears two eyes and no mouth is whats being ordered. back rubs are being ordered. walks on the beach are being requested. scalp scratches. butterfly kisses. viewings of Blackish. uh huhs and oh nos.

but i am not that robot. i have two turn tables and a microphone. if anything its a maxiphone.

im gonna die alone.

you will be misunderstood, sweet angels

especially if you’re not a basic bitch.

you will be unloved and ridiculed and talked about behind your back.

especially by the ssssssswwww ssssswwwww swwwws in the shadows.

fly with those wings girl, don’t curse them.

soar with that courage, don’t shrink.

yes the multitudes came out to hear Jesus

but his disciples bailed on him when the shit went down.

you will be alone when the pressure comes.

sometimes you will shine

sometimes you will stumble.

but we are not judged by how we perform during the lightning storm

we are known by how much light we reflect every day.

we’re not alone

ive seen em

they look like us

dress like us

they even drive around

poorly, but still.

they say things

and i listen.

they write

little notes

scratchy like.

other day i

saw one of them

scribble something

ball it up

toss it.

and write more

on a new paper.

for some reason i looked

at the balled up piece.

a car drove by.

a bird cawed.

i unballed it

it said

we’re not alone.