exclusion, degradation, and too much authority

i had to write this today for the library. i don't feel like explaining much more right now, i just wanted it posted here.

...
okay. where do i start.

song playing: tiny dancer, by elton john.

first of all, please allow me to speak freely, as an adult would do, because i'm an artist who doesn't hold back, and it offends me to be censored. can we just agree on that for a moment, to get it out of the way?

first required explanation: i hate people. i have severe people issues. i have a serious problem with authority. you don't need such overbearing authority and abuse of power in a library. need i remind you all: it's a library. not a prison, or a bank, or a university... it's a fucking library. open to the public. i need to repeat that. open to the public. i also hate money. possibly more than i hate humanity, but i'll get a calculator later. haha, that sounded funny. so please keep this piece of information in mind when reading the rest of this. i'm not among you. i'm basically a warhead dreamer hellbent on utopia now. not youtubia. with special guest beiber timberfake and the bed bugs. this is what i think humanity could be doing at this very moment, and my third eye actually sees it when i close these two useless eyes that lock me in a prison of reality. humanity could be uniting as a collective, sprouting third eyes, turning on the universal light, growing into tentacles that can absorb consciousness from the universe into the earth to evolve and heal it. you can call me crazy, but i'll just have my psychiatrist prove you wrong in a court of law. if you really want to play that game. but that being said, i'll go ahead and play along with your little concrete reality game for a minute.

when i go into that library, i go strictly to use the resources, not to socialize. why would an antisocial person do that. i once even had a therapist try and tell me, 'i don't think you're antisocial, i think you're just asocial'. too bad you can't type a really pompous laff. but anyway. i just want to point out, that i do not like talking to people. i only do it because my idiot family was so damn good at it. they were a genetic turd circus without a clue. i'm lucky to be away from them, finally trying to rebuild the life that they destroyed. yet they claim no responsibility. no one ever does. except fuckin' al qaeda. however the fuck you spell it. i hate that, you always hear about 'there was a terrorist bombing on some building, and al qaeda claims responsibility', but why can't anyone claim responsibility for destroying my life. perhaps they're irresponsible? not as responsible as they claim to be? i don't know, we'll get to that later.

song playing now: celestial furnace, by disarmonia mundi (italian melodic death metal, incase you need to look it up).

and i'm not even blowing up any buildings, go figure. i must have inherited hitler's karma, or something, cause otherwise, there's no excuse for this concrete reality destroying my life at every turn. excuses, authority, money, and concrete. and people.

like a tumour in my eye.

anyway. i was originally excluded because i was 'smoking pot on library property'. now, first of all, marijuana is legal. secondly, i use it medicinally to relieve stress from my ptsd. and i will enlighten you, it's not just ptsd, it's complex ptsd. you should look it up. the way my doctor explained it to me was very simple. he said, it's not just ptsd, it's an umbrella term that houses a whole bunch of dark fucked up shit. thanks, doc. roger that. i went back a couple years later with my understanding of it. i said, when a soldier goes over to war, that's traumatic. when he comes home from the war, that's post trauma. if someone's dumb enuph to stress that guy out, there's a disorder in there somewhere. he might shoot you. my doctor, a hero of mine at that point, gave that the big thumbs up smiley go ahead. if you want proof, his name is doctor stephen bupp at codac in tucson arizona, you can find him online as well. it took me ten years of hell just to reach him in the first place. that's ten years worth of crap i'm not putting in this email.

and third, i wasn't smoking. it was the end of october, beginning of november, because i don't think i got my disability money yet, and i was in the library. a friend of mine came in to get me, he was going to give me a bud, and we were going to eat the free lunch under the bridge. i walked out of the library with him, and he wanted to stop and sit for a second. as i said, i have complex ptsd, which includes confusion issues if too many people are talking around me, and in those cases, if anything goes wrong... it's my fault somehow. i need to discuss that with a therapist and an illusionist at this point, but we'll skip that for now. moving on.

it was around noon, it was cold and rainy outside, he wanted to sit down for a second, and i was trying to tell him, no, i just wanted to walk up to under the bridge. i always intend to follow and respect library rules, but the one time a friend doesn't, i get fucked. i get blamed for everyone else's problems, and that's just part of the ten years missing from this email that's going into a book as soon as possible. no matter where i'm standing, no matter where i'm walking, i'm always in someone's way, i'm in the wrong place at the wrong time. no matter when i'm talking, i'm taking up someone else's time, or breathing space, or my words aren't as relevant as yours, or i'm not as important as you, or whatever the excuse it, that's the way it's always been for me.

but my friend, rhett, wanted to sit for a second. i was trying to tell him in the midst of the human communication that's so chaotic and damaging to my ears, no, i wanted to keep walking, it's not easy for me to get up off the ground. my knees don't do standing, either. hence getting there early, to not stand in line forever. i have structural deformities in my knees, they run in my family. means the bone was deformed from birth. you can contact doctor moira wristen at carondelet in tucson arizona as well if you'd like to see the xrays. rhett gave me a bud. i had nowhere else to put it, so i pulled out the cheap little two dollar corn cob pipe i had just gotten, put the bud in the bowl, and put it back in my pocket. right about then, when i'm trying to say, we should walk to the bridge, officer bald knob comes out and starts bitching and shoving his authoritative chest in my face, which i have to constantly warn these violent fucking neanderthals, that triggers my ptsd, you might want to step aside. they never shut up long enuph to hear that.

i also have to explain. i have already been pushed past my breaking point long ago. it appears as if i'm still holding it together, but i'm not. and i don't know of any way to prove that to you right now, because my mind is so shredded. authority allowed that to happen to me in the first place. authority has never done me any favours. money has never done me any favours. your god has never done me any favours. yet i still respect your authority, but you still kick me out of every place i can go. and i cannot for the life of me figure out why. is it the way i look, is it the way i smell, is it because i can't buy your products and support a system i do not want to support. i'm an unimportant individual who's being raped and robbed against my will, but that doesn't matter in the eyes of a majority i couldn't hate more in the first place. so, just to add a little flavour to my perspective here.

i picture eric cartman riding around on a tricycle saying 'respect my authoritah!', and everyone else saying 'yeah, dude, shut up, we get it'.

keep in mind, i'm coming from a life you have no idea about. i breathe inspiration like a mutant from the xmen movies. the mother of my children sold my two kids to cps like a back alley drug deal, while i fought like hell for two years to the day to get them back, but because i wear a trench coat and have a third eye, cps feared me, and did all they could to silence me, and not hear me. i have to stress, i won literally every argument with them. i went warhead against a government organization for two years. just try giving me a reason why i should respect authority. just try letting one reason slip from between those lips, and see what ptsd does. i'll give you a hint, you won't like him when he's angry. and if you even try telling me i watch too many movies, then i'll show you my driver's license. my name is ozzy draven. i changed my name just after my daughter was born. like kind of like what marilyn manson did with his names, but whereas he chose to blend beauty with ugly, i chose to blend reality with fantasy, fiction, dreams, imagination. draven is a fictional last name. it's taken from the movie 'the crow', which, if you haven't seen by now, you shouldn't consider yourself educated, and you should sign up for netflix asap. because it does have alot to do even with this story. in the movie, eric draven is killed, and the crow brings his spirit back to set things right. i'd say that's relevant. my life has already been destroyed many times, but i'm still standing. and by all ozzy osbourne's standards, i shouldn't be. my family also sold my car to my uncle, killed my cat, someone stole my computer, and to date, i've lost a total of two desktops and three laptops, but that's okay, too. completely fair and reasonable.

anyway. rhett gave me a bud. i put it in my pipe, which was the only place i could put it. i was not intending to smoke it there, because i'm not stupid, i know library rules, and i don't smoke around big places like that. keep in mind, if i had my own place to live... this shit wouldn't be an issue, and we could all see it for the mundane, asinine, childish fucking joke that it truly is. we can all act like adults, for just one magical moment, and agree on something, instead of having those tight lips that only spit out legally documented versions of 'no'. signed, sealed, and contracted. robotic and inhuman. mechanical, systematic, and... my enemy, basically. there was a death metal album by nevermore, i believe, called 'enemies of reality'. good title.

oh, yeah, song playing now: reflection, by tool. (i was trying to keep those going for clarification of my mood and thoughts. something people without ptsd wouldn't fully understand).

even though i'm built to offend everyone, it hurts me to do so, and i try not to. at the same time, ninety nine percent of the shit on this planet severely offends me, but i have no individual rights in the face of society which i could care less about. so, let's speak fairly, and level the playing field here, should we, gentlemen? we're all adults, aren't we? i guess the only difference is, i speak logic, logic is my god, common sense is my law, and that shows up as hieroglyphs on google translate. so yeah. that's fair.

as i said, i was intending to walk away from the library before even considering smoking, because i can't enjoy the stress relief when there's too many other human turds around me with gaping mouths and loud fucking opinions that don't actually say fuckin' squat, and empty taco bell rappers lining the streets. and yes, i spell intentionally. i'm a writer. i know what i'm doing. unlike another wonderful human being that killed a family of four while he was texting 'sup homie' to a friend who was five minutes away while driving drunk. i love pointing out that little human embarrassment. i know i'm better than that piece of shit, i have standards that put yours to shame, you just can't tell right now, because your dollar tells me my life has to suck, and your authority puts a brick wall around that. joy.

i didn't light the bowl. i was not smoking pot outside the library. i didn't intend to. rhett, on the other hand, does not respect your rules the way i do. i was raised in a military family, i know about respecting fucking rules, you don't need to keep spouting them at me like i don't know. when you assume someone's dumber than they are, you look dumber, and you're pissing someone off. keep that in mind at all times. i've seen rhett light up his pipe on buses, in bus terminals, in all sorts of buildings, without having clue number one about what could happen. should i point out again, that i am nowhere near that stupid. i once had some doctor asshole give me an iq score of one twenty. i said fuck you, doc, i could've gotten a better iq score at a fuckin' walmart. how dare you insult my intelligence by putting it below your own, you fascist prick. people always seem to assume i'm as stupid as they are. but i'm not as dumb as i look. i say that humourously, and no one gets the joke.

which is another thing i'd like to point out. i really like officer dave, i consider him a friend at this point. he's nice, he's friendly, he's been thru shit that made him human, not robotic. he has a heart, i can see it in his eyes. i wanted him to be there with me to talk about this, as a form of support. but that goes against your stupid unnecessary rules. i also wanted another guy on the fifth floor, not a library employee, to say something to my defense, but you don't operate logically, or like a court, where everyone gets to be heard, all evidence gets to be seen... well, i can't accept that, it's just not logical. so i'd like to point out, that authority has absolutely no sense of humour, nuthing to cushion the harshness, so while many people are stuck between your rock and your hard place, their lives often end, and how would you know anything about it. you're basically murderers of god knows who, and i've seen it with my own eyes. lives destroyed because some security guard had to be a prick and prove his point and have his way. but i don't want to step into bill hicks territory, because i don't want the government to kill me too just yet.

after rhett gave me a bud, and i put it in my pipe, i was starting to get myself off the ground to walk away. right then, officer bald knob comes out, sticking his finger in my chest, and completely unaware of what triggers he's setting off like monkeys in a minefield. but that's okay, authority simply has that authority to do so. wow. impressive. concrete talks, wow. and i don't have to be on acid, either. this is fun. what channel are you on, and where's the fuckin' remote. but officer 'i have to be too much of an officer' starts spouting out loud harsh rules and crap, and not listening to a word i said to try and reason with him or explain anything, he just wanted to abuse his power stick and get off on me walking away from the only place i have to go. that's fair. so, since my ptsd was nuclear at that point, my only option was to walk away. he asked if i had any identification, cause he's too powerhungry to abbreviate and talk like a human, and i just glared at him and said no, and walked away. just because you have one, doesn't mean you have to be one. asshole.

song playing now: gauze, by deftones.

i loved this old tshirt i saw once. it had cartoon drawings of a rooster and a cat that were rolling up their sleeves about to fight eachother, and the little bubbles over their heads, one said 'chicken', the other said 'pussy'. hahaha. see, humour lightens the mood and softens the blow, doesn't it? i may not be able to afford your products, but mutherfucker, you can't afford to get a joke. go home and tickle your funny bone with some doctor prescribed standup comedy until you fuckin' laff at something. asshole. doctor's fuckin' orders!

and yes, incase you're wondering, i don't have a ph.d. i have an ev.d. an evolutionary doctorate. it can only be given to yourself instead of a bored of empty suits. wanna argue that one?

i thought this was a progressive town. but greed is the play of the day here. i don't get that. did you guys forget, kurt cobain used to wear dresses on stage? loosen up! van wilder says, don't take life too seriously, you'll never get out alive. he's fictional, too. don't worry, you're just my hallucination, we can move on now.

anyway. after officer dick trophy kicked me out without speaking one word of logic, i tried to come back and talk to him, and also officer michelle, as well as officer dave on several occasions, getting nuthing but gibberish in return. no one seemed to want to have anything to do with me after that. my third eye sees too many contradictions. well, i'll get to that later.

the story is that. i shouldn't have been excluded in the first place, because an idiot friend was breaking one of your rules. i'm sorry if my thoughts are out of order, but i have bed bugs crawling on my skin as i'm writing all this. try keeping your sanity in any of the situations i've been forced into in my life, i'd like to see how strong your mind is. go ahead, i'll watch.

so that's the most of the story. or at least the first part of it. the second part is much worse. and it starts like this.

i am trying to overcome homelessness right now. and you fuckers love to block me at every turn. setting up your blockades, kicking me out of places, and delaying shit that i don't wait for. there's no excuse for that in my individual life, and it is unacceptable. i will have to explain now, that one of the biggest problems in my mother's life, that severely damaged me, was procrastination. she could put off till tomorrow what should have been done fifty years ago. fuck yesterday, tomorrow's dead and gone for her, she's in a hospital with a tracheotomy right now. and that's just her middle finger pointing at me, to thank me for all the wonderful help and hard work over the years to try and improve her life, when i was just destroying my own. i tried to light a fire under her ass, and all i did was make it bigger. and i wasted too much of my body, sanity, and effort to do so. and in return, my entire life gets destroyed. my car, my cat, my tv, my computer i built myself, my two kids, my wife... gone. and that's okay, that's perfectly fair. if they made a movie about my life, oliver stone would have to direct it. but it would have a killer soundtrack. but i'm trying to overcome homelessness. you do not realize how much it destroys, how much time it wastes, how much pain it causes, when you fucking security guards keep kicking me out of the only places i'm able to go, and delaying shit and putting shit off and saying 'no', and 'can't', and 'come back later'. i've written on my blog so many times, because no one ever understands this, but because of my mother, i am not a very big fan of the words 'no', and 'can't', and 'later'. infact, honestly, i fucking hate them. i'm a huge fan of the words 'yes', and 'can', and 'now'. keep in mind what my third eye sees. you want to debate intelligence quotients, we can waste that time, just get me a hot chocolate first. large, with french vanilla creamer. i don't do coffee.

the first part of this second part of the explanation, is that i'm trying to overcome homelessness. that is my priority. authority has absolutely no respect for personal, individual priorities, and we're all supposed to fit into some mold, and have the same issues and the same music collections... i don't do that, never have. i recently lost a music collection of almost sixty thousand albums. if it were on cd, it would fill a small room. people tell me i'm closed minded because i won't listen to their clone rap. okay, yeah, i'll see your closed minded claim, and i'll raise you sixty thousand albums. wanna fuck with me now? then they just stare off into space. yeah, that's legal, sure. you know the difference between illegal and unlawful? illegal is a sick bird.

keeping in mind that i'm trying to overcome homelessness, and your authority keeps fucking my priorities just for your own personal pleasure, i'd like to reveal the rest of this story in brutal honesty, without having it held against me. is that fair enuph?

for the past week, since sunday, i have used that library, most of each day. i was not recognized when i walked in there, nor when i walked out. i did not bother anyone, i kept to myself as i always do, and already said. infact, i'm pretty good at being invisible, it's a bad trait i had to learn in tucson. hence the trench coat. i'm telling you this fact to illustrate three very simple points.

a: if you didn't notice me walking in there,
b: your system doesn't work as it should. and...
c: how important is it to have your way in this specific situation. how important is it to exclude one person from your public place, to abuse your authority in this instance, with me, a person who keeps to myself, never bothers anyone, respects your laws and rules, and your new favourite word, 'policy', meaning it doesn't even have to be a written law, you can just fuck with anyone you want because you don't like the way they look, which is discrimination and profiling, but that's perfectly legal, too.

how important is it, to ruin someone's life, cause them unimaginable pain, delaying their attempts to find a place to live and rebuild the life that was wrongfully taken from them in the first place. how important is it? really. seriously, on an adult, human, equal level, from human to human, or from cop to bum, it's the same thing. it's logic. common sense. human heart. not a fucking toy badge that means you get to say that my life has to suck, no. we're not in elementary school, we don't need to be disciplined with rulers here.

song playing now: lunatic fringe, by red rider.

yes, i have a high class taste in music. this is also to illustrate that my standards are far above yours, and they may not appear that way to you, but that's kind of your fault at the moment, you can't afford to open your perspective wide enuph to get the joke. that's on you. i claim no responsibility for that one. fuck al qaeda. like we really need more idiots with guns. we've seen that news broadcast a billion times, and we can't move on. fucking michael j. fox has seen more future than you have. that's sad. it really is. you can't see what lives authority destroys, simply because authority wasn't designed to care about it. well, by my personal rules, that's unacceptable. so why am i telling you these details, you ask?

well, obviously not to ​further ​incriminate myself, or make this childish bullshit take any longer, but to demand fairness that reaches beyond your badge, a little closer to your heart. and also to let you in on the fact, that your system is not well thought out enuph, and if you'd like some pointers, i would love to give you some ideas on how you could very simply upgrade your security protocol to where it would actually function properly, and you would be able to recognize certain faces and keep them out of the library when they're supposed to be, instead of forgetting that a certain face shouldn't be walking in there at that moment, or to better communicate to the other guards what faces are attached to what issues. and it's so fucking simple, all you guys need is an actual computer tech.

don't get me wrong, the guys on the fifth floor are fine, but it's not creative enuph to think outside the box. i can tell just by the way your computers are set up. default with all options removed. jesus, fellas, that's worse than microsoft does in the first place! if you don't know anything about desktop customization, how the fuck are you going to recognize certain people and be able to keep up with your own rules, instead of having them broken without your knowledge. come on. don't think like a computer technician, think like an artist. and for your information, i actually worked for america online as tech support, so i know what i'm talking about. i've also learned things about security and crap, even though i loathe the very word as well as the concept. i've never had anything handed to me, never found so much as a bud on the street, i'm an evolutionist, so by nature, i have no luck, i'm not superstitious, everything in my life that i have accomplished or achieved, i have done myself. like i said, your authority, money, and god, and concrete fucking rulebook system has never done me one fucking favour. no one can see my talent because your dollar won't shut the fuck up long enuph, and beiber won't get off the fuckin' stage. and i just have to put up with that because i share this planet with six billion idiots glued to television sets and thumb devices that distract your thumbs from what they should be doing, and this is in a world where the majority of the population is in denial of a fifth of their fucking hands in the first place, and you want to debate reality and rules with me? i'm sorry, my third eye is allergic to ignorance, you might want to wear a hazmat suit, or a bullet proof vest or something, there's no telling what this ptsd could do.​ and hell, i'll give you those ideas free of charge. just as a sign of good faith on both sides. stop fucking with my pursuit of happyness.​ and stop walking all over my personal rights and denying it all. my religion says i don't have to fit into any mold if i don't fuckin' fit. there's no way i'm squeezing myself into your brain washing machine. stop trying to cram me into your midget widget, find someone else. you may have everyone else fooled and following you, but it never hurts to have one outsider.

i'm sick of having a shitty life simply because your authority say so. why should i respect that, what has it ever done for me. my mother tried putting me into a mold. but it got moldy, and look where i am now. they say you have to go thru hell before you get to heaven. i already went thru my hell. i'm in seattle now, a city where shit functions and my mind can breathe. and where are they. that's right. fuckin' god's toilet on this earth. and you just know, one of these days, satan's gonna pop his big ugly shitty head out of that earth, and say 'hey! stop shittin' on me!'. the role of satan in that joke is played by my grandmother, just to clarify. you seeing my picture clearly yet? you seeing my perspective? where i come from?

i always have to warn people, because they don't seem to know. i don't know, maybe their parents didn't teach them this, i don't know. i see kids these days pointing and staring and mouths gaping open, and apparently they weren't taught the simple things in life that every child should know before buying a smart phone. don't point, don't stare, and chew with your fuckin' mouth closed! and pull up your fuckin' pants before i knock that hat off your head! didn't your father beat your ass for that? but they just stare at me. and sometimes point, if they can lift their soggy arm off the videogame remote long enuph. god, that disgusts me. there are alot of things in this world that greatly offend me, but if they aren't registered on the offensive language list, they don't matter to anyone else, and i'm not even allowed to claim them as offenses when some asshole is waving a gun in my face. but i constantly have to warn people, and even remind some i have already warned... don't fuck with a writer! you're not going to win! they're a writer, and you can't even spell text properly! you're not going to win. don't fuck with a writer! but they just don't get it. my mother already proved that theory many years ago when i was a kid. i was in junior high, and she was driving a school bus, and some idiot at a school complained about where she parked, and tried to get her fired because of it. my mother wrote a one page, single spaced letter, that almost took down tucson unified school district. do i need to repeat that. yeah, she was smart enuph to forward copies of the letter to the governor, the mayor, the school board, and on down the line, so everyone knew what this power hungry twit tried to do. she got apologies from fucking everyone.

and people complain about me blowing snot out my nose, like 'ew, that's gross'. uh, okay, first of all, if i had a place to live, this wouldn't be an issue. and secondly, what kind of pussy are you. seriously. let me give your perspective a little squeegee. once you've had two kids, and then survived a knife fight in one of the most dangerous neighborhoods in the world?... germs just don't mean shit. my trench coat has had every bodily fluid known to man on it, as well as food shit, motor oil, grease, mud... and i wear that like a badge of pride. my gloves are a reminder to you fuckers of the life you took from me.

so it's time i stop being excluded, and degraded, and told i can't be somewhere, just because of how i look, what i believe, or what naturally growing legal herb i choose to smoke, or where i smoke it, or which single serving friend i happen to be hanging out with at the moment who's actually the one responsible for breaking your rule, and not me.

and that was actually a complaint i wanted to make in the first place that never got heard. officer dick stick came out and started bitching at me, and didn't even look at my friend, rhett. why the fuck is it always my fault what happens around me, how can you even see me, i'm invisible (as i pull my trench coat over my head like a child wearing a costume cape and too much imagination, thinking i'm disappearing). so i should reiterate, i was not even smoking, nor did i even intend to do so!!! rhett was smoking, and officer jackass starts bitching at me!!! what the fuck! how is that fair in anyone's fuckin' rulebook of steal! rhett should have been excluded. not me. that was an asshole move on officer fucktruck's part, and i honestly think i did nuthing wrong. with my ptsd in full fire gear, i think i handled that situation better than anyone else there. even officer dave, who easily could have spoken for me, and gotten ociffer dickstick to shut up and listen for a minute. and the whole time, rhett, the other guy smoking pot, i hope you haven't forgotten about him... that whole time, fucking rhett was pulling a vow of fucking silence!!! so he wasn't even fucking talking!!!

is that not just fucking pathetic? and please, excuse my language, again, but that's just fucking asinine. there is absolutely no excuse for that. in a courtroom, so that there can be order, and everything can be understood properly, the judge will pound the gavel to keep everything calm and quiet, so the whole story can be heard. not outside a library. that's why you don't call it law, you just call it policy, and as soon as i start speaking any logic, you stop listening, and stand there like a fucking zombie triggering god knows how many ptsd triggers, and very possibly destroying someone's day, and if that person is already suicidal, you may have just ended a life, but how would you ever know. you'll never see the fucking obituary, you don't have time with all that badge pushing you get paid so well to do. and hey, why should you care anyway, they were just a bum. well, that's more proof that you're wrong, because this particular 'bum' just happens to be locked and loaded with talent, and the balls to get his kids back. that's right. you want to see determination in homeless people, i'm right fuckin' here. no need to shop elsewhere. and i gladly take visa. although, i didn't accept officer chris's coffee money, it was unnecessary, because you people assume i don't know how to slip thru the cracks of your system in the first place. i'm not stupid. i know where to find wifi. i know how to get things accomplished even when people are trying their damnedest to set up road blocks as quick as they can to keep me in their little playpen prison like a fuckin' pinball baby.

what the fuck. could we have a little sense, please. it's not that hard to put the badge down and see a fellow human, a fellow earthwalker of level ground. so if you can't respect what life you're destroying, on a human level, then i refuse to respect your authority on any level. if you're human, you'll see the logic in that, and you'll go the right way, deciding that yes, you can offer sympathy instead of police brutality that might wind up on youtube, and making an even bigger mistake then this already is. i should point out that my company is not liable for your misunderstandings. it's your responsibility to use your product properly, and understand everything. i am not your teacher, i shouldn't have to explain all this shit to you, while you call yourself an authority, and hide behind that badge. that badge is smaller than you think, dude. and if you think it's bulletproof... well, my friend... you've seen too many movies. i'm sorry.

and that's why you'll never see my talents. i'm just horribly dressed scum in your eyes, that's why it doesn't matter if you kick me out or not. so that's my big question. how important does it have to be in this instance for you to get your way, and exclude me from the only place i can go to, and haven't been completely kicked out of yet, for absolutely childish reasons, how much does it matter to you, that you ruin and delay someone's life and efforts, just so it can be blamed on them later, because you're not around to claim responsibility for that tiny, invisible terrorist attack.

how important is it that you get your way.
how important is it that your authority not be broken, even though i just proved that it already has.
how much does it matter that you procrastinate like my mother, and delay a few more days, for something so fucking petty, that in the face of my overcoming homelessness, is just a fucking child throwing a tantrum in a classroom without a teacher at this point.

does that illustrate my image clearly enuph. because i can do better. i'm a profectionist, and an evolutionist, that's right, i said pro, so i can do this all day. i'm a writer, this is what i do. and i always have to explain to people as well, even though they never understand this, but when i'm in periods of pain in my life, i speak in poetry. it's the only way shit makes sense to me, and i don't feel or sound like a clone. i use euphemisms and analogies alot, i reference alot of things, i speak fluent figurative sarcasm, and the mother of my children put this part best. she said in my writing, my audience is universal. there is not one being in existence that i'm not talking to. she was dead on. you're goddamn right i'm talking to all of you. infact, that's how my comedy show should start out, if i can remember what i fucking lost, thanks to you fucks. and sorry for the adult language, and speaking frankly, but that's just what i am. i'm a writer. i have a good sense of humour, i never take anything too literally or seriously, i always question authority like timothy leary told me to do, and that's exactly how you should take this email. don't take offense to it, don't take it as a threat, as only an unevolved, psychotic, neanderthal mind would (and those are the people we put in power... makes me think of the line from iron man, tony stark's father said 'world peace means having a bigger stick than the other guy'. wow. okay, nice one gentlemen, i'm impressed. now can we sprout some fuckin' thumbs and move on to tentacle downloading please, my hot chocolate's getting cold.

if you haven't figured it out yet, i'm highly intellectual. i'm the person who belongs in your library the most. especially considering i'm using your resources to actually overcome homelessness, that alone should be admirable. but my heroes are the biggest brains on this planet, not the idiots with the biggest guns or the biggest wallets. cause they usually have the biggest attitudes, the biggest egos, the smallest dicks, the biggest trucks, the smallest hearts, and won't even bum you a fucking cigarette. those fuckers can kiss my big black flabby fuckin' ass, with all due respect. and sorry for my adult language, but again, i'm an adult. once i turned eighteen, i bought my first porno, my first pack of smokes, and said 'fuck you' to the store clerk. that's what every adult should do, but for some reason, we have these children who claim to be responsible adults, and i can poke holes in that theory and blow smoke rings thru it.

by the way, can you blow bubbles?

well, good, cause he's back in town and wants your number.

and here's a good way to hang up on a phone call you don't want. when you're on the phone, ask the person these two rhetorical questions. if they're dumb enuph, you might have to explain what rhetorical means first. but ask them this...

hey, what has a little dick that hangs down? an elephant.
what has a big dick that hangs up? click.

leave them to figure it out, and you can enjoy your coffee, cigarettes and porno, and we can all smile and watch coneheads. sound like a good plan? oh, yeah, and at that point, marijuana won't just be legalized, it will be mandatory, so... relax, it's nature's way of saying smile! have a nice day!

so, all that being said, i'd just like to leave you with one quote from one of my intellectual superheroes, that really defines my perspective most of the time. by the way, i missed the one pm lunch under the bridge to be sitting here writing this shit, i hope you can at least appreciate that. and the fact that my own place to live has been delayed at least one month now because i don't smell good enuph to get free wifi, if i were as greedy and selfish as you are, i would be demanding two months rent from you fuckers. and i'm sure i could even pay some dude with a briefcase for a little intimidation. my uncle's done that before, and he was one of my family members who was in the army. he also transported massive amounts of marijuana later in his life. now he sits on his ass, bitching about his replaced knees all the time. what a fuckin' hero. and his father was border patrol, so... just so you know who you're talking to.

but here is one of my all time favourite quotes, that i think is precisely relevant for this moment. it was said by jiddu krishnamurti. you might want to google him.

he said...

'it is no measure of health to be well adjusted to a profoundly sick society'.

oh, wow. like butter over the flapjack of my heart. makes my third eye smile and tingle every time. i couldn't have said it better myself.

read that again. it is no measure of health to be well adjusted to a profoundly sick society. break it apart even, analyze it. truly dig deeper into it.

it is no measure of health...
to be 'well adjusted'...
to a profoundly sick society.

that means if the world is fucked up, who the fuck are you to call yourself sane? i proudly admit that i'm not sane, even though my psychiatrist would disagree. but thanks to lysergic acid diethylamide​​ in my early twenties, i'm out of my mind and never coming back. or as it says on one of my pages...

yeah, i'm nutty. i dance naked in the rayne and laff at raynebows. what's your idea of a good time?

you should also know, i named my daughter rayne, and my son leary. ​that's right. ​that's who i am.​ i've got dreams that would make john lennon proud.​ i have three blogs, two da pages, two facebooks, a fetlife, a twitter, zero watchers, and a partridge'd family in a dead fuckin' tree. stephen hawking says philosophy is dead. fuck you, stephen, i'm right here. don't write me off before i'm dead, hell, you can't even do that with richard fuckin' pryor. philosophy ain't dyin'. authority on the other hand... i don't see it being necessary much longer. when knowledge is the new currency, libraries will thank me. i'm sure you could appreciate that. use your imagination, that's what the library's there for. isn't it? or am i wrong? is the library just there as a decoration you can be kicked out of at any moment if you don't smell right, or smoke the wrong plant. what happened to forgiveness. i know what's going on in this world, i watch naked news, i know obama's talking about amnesty and shit like that, but we have libraries that won't even let their local visitors come in because their authority is too stiff to forgive an honest mistake. well, that's just not a library, nor a world, i want to be a part of. that society is going to be on my shitlist, and i can't help that. but because i was born from this particular genetic turd circus... i can appear to handle this shit on the outside, while on the inside, i'm desperately slashing my wrists with any piece of metal i can find. everytime i try to compliment a lady to get her to look at me, and she ignores me. every time i try to bum a cigarette and get that look, like 'what scum are you'. how repulsive must i be to get that look from people. it's not my fault you threw my standards in the trash can. but when i get them back, the regrets will start illuminating themselves. because when i get a place to live and start building my life... well... i don't want to give that away to you. i don't feel it's relevant right now. and besides, i think i said already that i have standards that would put yours to shame anyway, so that should just about say it. so, in closing... well... i'll do it this way...

disclaimer: i apologize for being an adult and using language i have ever right to use anytime i want. i apologize for offending anyone, when i'm specifically built to offend galaxies out of their stupid comatose videogame zombie states. i'm sorry for being me, and not fitting into your mold, even though i still try to respect your rules and crap i don't agree with. i'm sorry for not being able to afford to ride the bus to other libraries, or afford the products necessary to get the 'free wifi' elsewhere. i'm sorry my body is not up to par to be able to do your job for you. i'm sorry that lady's ass isn't street legal, but i'm going to have to give her a ticket. i'm sorry my jokes don't fit thru your badge filter, but i hope you can laff at something anyway. i'm sorry if my logic speak doesn't load in your google translate. i'm sorry i have too big of a heart, and too important of a priority to overcome homelessness, that doesn't fit into your holiday schedule. marry fuckin' christmas to you, too. i also apologize if this wasn't worded cohesively, but losing a computer when you're a writer and being raised by a fat flubberfuckin' failure of a projectionist and procrastinator, and then being told you're always wrong, and then being traumatized by never being heard, being brutally verbally slaughtered, and losing your kids to actual real life demons, and then surviving a knife fight, and then moving to seattle might cause dizziness and confusion when explaining too much elementary shit to too many elementary people against your will. you got me so dizzy, my head is spinnin'. tommy roe wrote that song. and who knows what happened to that guy. probly the same thing that happened to the chicken that crossed the road, and the lady that ate the fly. i don't know why she ate the fly, but i know the chicken crossed the road to get away from colonel sanders. but when you cross a chicken with a road, you get roadkill. hence the kfc. i'm hungry, and it's time for dinner.

that being said...

​disclaimer number two: do not take offense to anything in here. do not take anything too literally. do not take this as any form of a threat. do not act like a neanderthal or a child. do not keep motorized parts around children. extremely flammable.​ do not shake, contents under pressure. do not use around children or low intelligence quotients. use a tattoo gun when putting everyone's iq's and bank balances on their foreheads for safe tracking and security purposes. please read the ozztek industries security policy, and keep your receipt handy incase we kick you out. do not have a violent, psychotic neanderthal reaction. incase of a violent psychotic neanderthal reaction, consult a psychiatrist immediately for a psychological evaluation. or an evolve you ation, whatever you can afford. if you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed to you. evolve your nation is copyright twenty fourteen ozztek industries. you can say this, but do not spray it into your third eye, may cause irritation and a rash and diarrhea. and other catastrophies. do not sleep in bed bugs, it's creepy shit on your flesh, and i have skin issues of severe sorts in the first place. and do not fuck with people that have ptsd, you might get shot, and that's your fault, your responsibility, not theirs, not al fucking gay duhs. keep your opinions in their full upright position, and exit at the logical point in your life, not sooner. do not have a heart attack trying to comprehend this email, if your brain starts to hurt, take a nap immediately. marijuana may be required, don't freak out. if you get the giggles, i personally recommend christopher titus. start with the first video, and work your way thru till your cheeks hurt. both sets. do not call the authorities, they can't afford to sit and laff at the tv with you to get the explanation. do not cook pancakes with raspberries in them, that's just nasty. do not feed homeless people bananas either, that's just mean. use with caution, that concrete can get pretty hard on the way down. and may logic be with you. thank you for participating in this new experimental form of human electronic verbal communication clusterfucking, wash your hands on the way out. ticket prices may vary. batteries not included. free wifi with proof of purchase. and do not, under any circumstances, piss yourself or flash your weewee at the ladies while you're blowing snot out your nose. keep the crackers closed, and enjoy the ride. this has been a public service announcement, and i think i gave the public a good servicing. ooh, that had to hurt. watch your step, enjoy your trip, see you next fall. and if your wife asks, that's sriracha sauce from subway, not lipstick from hookers. song now playing: shake it out, by florence + the machine. have a wonderful day.

...
throughout human history, as our species has faced the frightening, terrorizing fact, that we do not know who we are, or where we're going in this ocean of chaos; it has been the authorities, the political, the religious, the educational authorities, who attempted to comfort us, by giving us order. rules. regulations. informing. forming in our minds, their view of reality.

to think for yourself, you must question authority, and learn how to put yourself in a state of vulnerable openmindedness; chaotic, confused vulnerability, to inform yourself.

- doctor timothy francis leary, ph.d.

and i wonder why libraries don't carry his books.