My name is Greg Wood

Guilt

is a funny thing. Guilt is consuming, it grows slowly in you. It eats away at your other thoughts, until only itself is left. It’s not easy coming to terms with the knowledge that you are capable of something you didn’t think you could do, something that you are ashamed of. It changes how you perceive yourself, and how others perceive you. Some let the shame blind them, they point fingers and spread blame. They blame their parents, they’re friends, and they’re country for failing them, for not allowing them to succeed. They are cowards, and they use their fear to cope with their actions. Others let their guilt control them, obsessing over their mistakes. They carry the pain of those mistakes, the weight of the past, often letting the anxiety grow until it becomes too much and they break down. These habits are self-destructive, and leave no room for growth. They are the pitfalls to our youth, the trappings of egocentric thinking.

      It takes courage to accept yourself, especially the negative parts. It’s difficult to look inward and shine a light at all of your dark emotions, to re-visit all the times you fucked up and confront those feelings. Difficult, but not impossible. We can use that courage to accept our guilt and turn it into character. We can become full of wisdom, not regrets. We can have the self-awareness it takes in order to truly grow emotionally. We have to be willing to fight. This is not a struggle in which there is a clear winner or loser. This is a struggle of self, one which everyone must face individually. Because when we know ourselves, we can truly understand each other.

tigrar:

thedeli-:

Between The Buried And Me - Mordecai

Always.

(Source: yetthisonecounts)

Sneaking in for a cuddle. P.S. His name is Picklepuss

Allen Ginsberg- America

America I’ve given you all and now I’m nothing.
America two dollars and twenty-seven cents January 17, 1956.
I can’t stand my own mind.
America when will we end the human war?
Go fuck yourself with your atom bomb
I don’t feel good don’t bother me.
I won’t write my poem till I’m in my right mind.
America when will you be angelic?
When will you take off your clothes?
When will you look at yourself through the grave?
When will you be worthy of your million Trotskyites?
America why are your libraries full of tears?
America when will you send your eggs to India?
I’m sick of your insane demands.
When can I go into the supermarket and buy what I need with my good looks?
America after all it is you and I who are perfect not the next world.
Your machinery is too much for me.
You made me want to be a saint.
There must be some other way to settle this argument.
Burroughs is in Tangiers I don’t think he’ll come back it’s sinister.
Are you being sinister or is this some form of practical joke?
I’m trying to come to the point.
I refuse to give up my obsession.
America stop pushing I know what I’m doing.
America the plum blossoms are falling.
I haven’t read the newspapers for months, everyday somebody goes on trial for
murder.
America I feel sentimental about the Wobblies.
America I used to be a communist when I was a kid and I’m not sorry.
I smoke marijuana every chance I get.
I sit in my house for days on end and stare at the roses in the closet.
When I go to Chinatown I get drunk and never get laid.
My mind is made up there’s going to be trouble.
You should have seen me reading Marx.
My psychoanalyst thinks I’m perfectly right.
I won’t say the Lord’s Prayer.
I have mystical visions and cosmic vibrations.
America I still haven’t told you what you did to Uncle Max after he came over
from Russia.

I’m addressing you.
Are you going to let our emotional life be run by Time Magazine?
I’m obsessed by Time Magazine.
I read it every week.
Its cover stares at me every time I slink past the corner candystore.
I read it in the basement of the Berkeley Public Library.
It’s always telling me about responsibility. Businessmen are serious. Movie
producers are serious. Everybody’s serious but me.
It occurs to me that I am America.
I am talking to myself again.

Asia is rising against me.
I haven’t got a chinaman’s chance.
I’d better consider my national resources.
My national resources consist of two joints of marijuana millions of genitals
an unpublishable private literature that goes 1400 miles and hour and
twentyfivethousand mental institutions.
I say nothing about my prisons nor the millions of underpriviliged who live in
my flowerpots under the light of five hundred suns.
I have abolished the whorehouses of France, Tangiers is the next to go.
My ambition is to be President despite the fact that I’m a Catholic.

America how can I write a holy litany in your silly mood?
I will continue like Henry Ford my strophes are as individual as his
automobiles more so they’re all different sexes
America I will sell you strophes $2500 apiece $500 down on your old strophe
America free Tom Mooney
America save the Spanish Loyalists
America Sacco & Vanzetti must not die
America I am the Scottsboro boys.
America when I was seven momma took me to Communist Cell meetings they
sold us garbanzos a handful per ticket a ticket costs a nickel and the
speeches were free everybody was angelic and sentimental about the
workers it was all so sincere you have no idea what a good thing the party
was in 1835 Scott Nearing was a grand old man a real mensch Mother
Bloor made me cry I once saw Israel Amter plain. Everybody must have
been a spy.
America you don’re really want to go to war.
America it’s them bad Russians.
Them Russians them Russians and them Chinamen. And them Russians.
The Russia wants to eat us alive. The Russia’s power mad. She wants to take
our cars from out our garages.
Her wants to grab Chicago. Her needs a Red Reader’s Digest. her wants our
auto plants in Siberia. Him big bureaucracy running our fillingstations.
That no good. Ugh. Him makes Indians learn read. Him need big black niggers.
Hah. Her make us all work sixteen hours a day. Help.
America this is quite serious.
America this is the impression I get from looking in the television set.
America is this correct?
I’d better get right down to the job.
It’s true I don’t want to join the Army or turn lathes in precision parts
factories, I’m nearsighted and psychopathic anyway.
America I’m putting my queer shoulder to the wheel.

(Source: thisbeatisforyou)

AND I REAPPEAR FROM SPACE (with a juno-60)

I purchased a new synthesizer and that has basically eaten up the last two months of my life. (Anyone with basic knowledge of synths will instantly become my new best friend.)

Another tidbit of brain juice i’d like to talk about is Wawa, and how that is my second love. I will go into more details about how Wawa helps my friends and I have introspective, spiritual conversations in the near future. BOO-YA! CLIFFHANGER!

Until next time,

BOOM GOES THE DYNAMITE

THROWBACK!

For all you drug smoking wannabes I would like to show you a picture of me from about two years ago. Yes, the one with the bandana. I used to be a hippie and in some sense I still carry that personality with me. You know you’re jealous of my long, luscious, locks. I know you are too.

I’m totally gonna go see Harry Potter tomorrow to pick up some Potter chicks.

The movie is cool and all, but damn I love me some Potter babes.

Song of the Week - The Unicorns “Tuff Ghost”

The Unicorns are one of my favorite bands, if not my favorite band of all time. Childish lyrics that mask the the creepy undertone of this song coupled with a synth that sounds so goddamn sexy, and I would be lying if I didn’t tell you that was one of the best bass solos I’ve ever heard. Unfortunately, I probably will never see them live, but Islands might do. If you love indie music, or even pop music, you should enjoy something about this song. God bless The Unicorns.

adventuretime:

This is adventure time!!

Submitted by twodans

(Source: adventuretime)

thismoi:

oh, sweet goodness.

keanex:

Sufjan Stevens - John Wayne Gacy Jr. (Philly 11-10-2010)

This is in honor of the Sufjan concert I went to last night. I’ve been following it extensively via the amazing Sufjan Stevens Tumblr and have been underwhelmed by the videos I’d seen. I was ready to go there expecting nothing. Even if I had had my expectations all the way through the roof, the concert would have exceeded it.

I filmed this during the last song encore he did on my Moto Droid. The video quality sucks. It’s too dark. The audio quality is spot on though.

I came into this show prepared to be disappointed and I too was amazed at what I had seen. He blew me away. I loved every minute of it. Also, if anyone else was at Philadelphia show last night you might remember someone yelling “Decatur” very loudly toward the end of the show. Yes… that was Keanex

http://keanex.tumblr.com/

fuckyeahpokememe:

oh hipsters~

(Source: fypblog)

Don’t touch me there

I might squirtle little

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