[claygus]

[claygus]

You are better than you were yesterday.

Take your time. Find your rhythm.

I'm proud of you.

[claygus]

Acoustic djembe reggae jam

#acoustic #djembe #reggae #jam #frontporch

[claygus]

It's a beautiful day to change your ways

[claygus]

[claygus]

I shouldn't share every word, that amount of vulnerability is absurd. To open every door in your mind and let all the monsters out at the same time. But to keep them closed is what's killing me. The scratching on the doors and the broken hinges. They want out. They want whatever is on the other side. But only to get out, and realize it's only another room on the other side. What a tease. The fresh air breeze coming from underneath was simply the exhaust of another exhausted room. But to you.. it's new. Worth so much more than the air in your own space. But the longer you breath there the more you dare the other side to become the room you crave. Let your thoughts misbehave. I won't share every line every time because I don't always write.

I won't go back and read this until it's been said. So hopefully these thoughts in my head can lay to rest. Instead of sleeping for a dream I wanna sleep for peace. I dont care if I like this. And if I dont believe it I'll erase it like the thoughts I dont type. The power of the mind. I can conquer it this time. With each word in this line. I wonder what the undertone is in all of this. It's not that I'm unhappy I'm just disorganized. And deep inside is where the questions lie. This is my dance inside. The tango of words and time. The love of my life. The self and the I will dance tonight. Maybe even fist fight. But that's alright. It's the movement that matters. The pain that's gathered is just an effect of after. The dance is worth the laughter.

[claygus]

Batman sucks.

Maybe if Bruce Wayne would spend some of his damn money on repairing the city of Gotham, some new schools, new parks, put some money into rehabilitation programs, etc. Instead of buying military prototype armor and weapons so he can fly around Gotham kicking people in the dicks, maybe the city would actually start to be a better place. Get over yourself Bruce. How selfish do you have to be? And btw just shoot the fucking joker in the face and end it already. Just because you dont have the balls to do it now this poor town has to be terrorized every day buy some anorexic John Wayne Gacy. Your parents were killed like 30 years ago. Just let go already.

This is an analogy for holding onto your depression. Sometimes I think our depression simply comes from conditioning. It's all we know. We put on our bat suit. We fight and fight but never make any real changes. And the ones around you suffer like gotham. Because at the end of the day the same battle over and over again is at least familiar. And your biggest fear is change. Because when things changed you lost something precious to you. So you fight to hold onto the past every day. You go in your cave. You fight the same guy every day. But you never shoot him in the face.

[claygus]

Just one line at a time like the next breath in line bringing oxygen back to my mind. I find myself here again. The words my only friend. With in them an infinite game of chess. Choosing the best word next to represent...

So what the thoughts gone. Move on. Time to have a new one. I can honestly say that yesterday was a step away from the old me as I freely pour what I mean on this digital sheet for others eyes to see. Judge me. Love me. Put yourself above me. But know I say every lie that wiggles in my mind to expose the ideas buried down below. And here I go. Thinking I'm special. That these words hold a million truths. But only if they are spoken to you, by a voice that you like because you dont trust at night. Let's not talk about that dream. Just remember what you felt it was suppose to mean and run with it. Not run from it. Unless that works to. Yada yada bullshit more lines more lies more twisted insides with little dead guys inside blocking the way to the subway train that pollutes my brain.

[claygus]

Many more

You say you have an art so you better start to capture your words like laughter in a field of mines heard one echo at a time as they ring In silence. So capture cradle adore the violence and realiance of self and I, see this is not a lie. The thoughts in side that coincide with lives around the world and I say yes. Yes to being. To bring the voice like waves of motion that created the quarks that made the existence I so desperately crave and evade possible. The jet fuel of love is being alive in side despite the lies we were told and exposed to. I'm just a mad man with a mad man in a mad man screaming a plan at the bigger man who amplifies and implies that bigger guys with bigger lies are waiting in other lights. Why do I deserve to write? Maybe cause I have a mind? This one time that I can rely on. I'm on my own time. Headaches and all the hills and the bath room stalls the family funerals where we dont wanna know all. Maybe that's just me.. or honestly we all just have secrets to keep that we repeat in the dark over and over again. Said like words that slide of the bed slowly but surely cause the thought was dead. I dont go back and read what I said. Instead I write and write again. This is the final draft. The real thought that was said. Not word after word organized again for me to comprehend. These paragraphs will serve instead. The will be my homestead. The place my thoughts run free and I start to believe that I can think freely. The high is almost greedy. Dont deceive me. I said what I meant but I never meant what I said. It was all just a disorganized distructed guise of lies behind my eyes I say a million times to define the guy outside. I forget to breath if the thought matters more. Dare I attempt to change the flow of water like cannon fire that flows into these words. I suppose that's cause I'm dirt. And dont you dare hear a low self worth. This is what the worlds for. We are made of infinitely more. For as long as we are rich. With things to replenish it. Our soul like gold. This is how my words go.

[claygus]

I think it's okay to say that I don't have many words today. And that's okay, you're not always gonna have your way. Despite how bad you feel you wanna say away your thoughts today.

[claygus]

I won't delete these lines this time I promise. Who? I dont know but that line felt honest. And on this road of words and woes I go.

[claygus]

Dont stare at the sun to long or you'll go blind. Funny how so much light can compromise our eye. So we never stare, we do not dare, we wouldn't want our vision impaired. Unless the sight you saw was the only thing to ever make you care. Then how could you ever not look up there? The moon went blind just to let the sun light shine, if only I could play that role in the sky opposite of the sun is I. So I'll spend eternity reflecting off me, you. You be the sun. I'll be the moon.

[claygus]

Take this time to write. Before you feel the need tonight. Say what you need to make things right. Whatever it is, the thoughts in the back of your mind. Like a broken watch, just cant seem to wind, down. Silence the screams, those thoughts you think you mean, the concrete beneath your feet, stong on the surface but the bottoms cracked and flawed. Like your voice singing along to your favorite song. Oh just the thought gets you off track in fact..

[claygus]

So I take this time for the morning grind, unbox my mind and slowly find The words I resent but cant repress. The skeletons in the closet seem fully dressed.

[claygus]

I suppose the day I change is always just a day away. That the thought I'm bound to have is just a thought away. But words seem to fail me as I search for the next. The endless latter skipping step after step. But I don't regret the climb. Because each brick laid in my mind paved by time has helped define the life that's mine. So instead of reading back I plow ahead, not knowing what's to come, but knowing I will have done, whatever it is i set out to do. I'm not a writer like you. These thoughts they don't have chains. I drive myself mad cause this car never runs out of gas so instead of taking the next exit I just pass and laugh and relapse. Are your scribbled thoughts honestly worth a second thought? So far it seems these words at least were worth just that. But you seem to do this to get away. When all else has failed and you have to face yourself. You write. What does it mean. What does this desire matter. How do I harvest it and organize it in a way that I can use it to my benefit. Instead of just feeling like a lunatic why don't you try to change it. Maybe write like this. Write like you mean it. Like you care. I remember who you used to be. The same person inside of you that can endlessly type is the the same person you have been trying to kill with drugs and sex and money. All of your addictions are tied to your inability to conquer your own emotions. You hurt because you are hurting. Time to start kicking your ass and caring again. Time to start showing the world who you are again. Stop wasting your money. Your time. Your mind. Your youth. You are sick. You need to get help. And truthfully all that means is you need to start helping yourself start taking back your emotions. Start working out. Anything. Fuck man. Don't just type. Change. Grow. Inspire.

[claygus]

[ ] If you take all the thoughts you say at night and said them in the morning instead, maybe you would actually remember them then and not just wait till bed when you need to say them again. A thought of mine I thought one time another a similar night, trapped with my mind, sometimes a frightening time. But none the less I can't regret that the thoughts that make me change again. The words I said, and know I'll say again. This might be a bit repetitive but I think it's quite effective at helping me understand the man I think I think I am. Goodnight man

[claygus]

Verb Do What to? Why to? Why not? Regardless done. If done, when done. Doesn't matter where. As long as you are there. Done never ends if the doing is always being done. But then you get tired. . Doesn't matter though. Create despite mistakes. Blank again . . Back again. I have to find a way to make my hands and my mind combine to create art. Art I can thrive on. Art that matters. But then there's commitment.. That thing that seals it all.. Are you actually working? Are you really trying? Do you really care? Why don't you care? Time is leaving right now. Every letter said and read is taken away so I suppose you should make sure this one matters. Maybe not sit and write but work and move. Where did the motivation go.. I think I know.. But I'm afraid to say so.. What is the reason though? I thought I knew. The timing felt right but I know that answer won't be had tonight. So sit and write. And write. I silent self fueled fight. I want that life. But.. But what. Just do.. Nothing is getting done.. You know this. So type in silence and recognize that you are the reason why. Must be nice. I love you. But you aren't you until you do. Creation is within you. It's always been. You've always been. And always will be. So why not try.. try and succeed. You got this.