home

a stand up person.
displaying proper moral conduct.
no prices to pay. no views to obstruct.
the perfect mode. the silent code.
the current values to uphold.
welcome to unanswered questions.
take a seat next to no reactions.
to the left is lost ambitions..,
and straight ahead is... oh, i forgot again.
you know, acceptable conditions.
all is as comfortable as home.
and home is where the heart is.
where the heart is...

xo

**FISHOOX**

FISHOOX

how do i let it out? what can i say, when words fail me everyday? technically i believe i can't complain. i've adapted to being numbly dumb. dwelling endlessly about the tight rope of delusional reality, that waits for me to cross with my blurred sense of never satisfied justification.

fuk u sellouts

i'm so fuken sick, seriously disgusted by this fuken country and people in general. anyone who participates in consumer capitalism to blind themselves of what they consider "faults". i wouldn't even give them the privileged title of "retarded". i've seen this disease kill more lives, more soul, more substance, than drugs, smokes, whatever.. combined.
sooo, lemme just say.. ur thankless job, meaningless life, loveless relationship... yeah, real revolutionary. you're really gunna fuken collide worlds with that shit. go fuk yourself to death with a lexus or whutever meaningless, soulless shit you compromise your identity for.

do unto others

gotta respect the cycle of abuse. don't think for a second you're not a player in this fuked game, so put a pause on the self-righteous shit. we inflict suffering unto others, for we have suffered, and for our, fuk, for my suffering, there's a deep angry pain in which there is no resolve.. it's too deeply rooted to understand it, there is no end, thus we pass it on. obeying the golden fuken rule. fuken destroying all naive innocence until your soul is filled with everything that means nothing. a spiritual abuse baptism.

landfills.

all these bullet holes, filled with my discarded landfills. they can't, and won't speak for us.
you'll take the easy life, with handshakes of all my cries. the way that slowly kills my will.
i'll take your silent knife, that final point of life, with all your wounds, wounds that won't heal.
you look so pretty high up, up where you won't fall off. your place where you can't feel the words.
down here, so tired and lonely, right here, the one and only, a failure, failure you can't feel.
what a final thought. a final disappointment. a failure sugarcoated by fear.
such a nice example, another pointless sample. it's one way, a way to take your deal.
you are.. my final thought.., that final fight i lost. the potential that is never real.

a thankful moment 2 remember

once when i was little, my mother made me so mad, that my obvious logical thinking was to cover my entire room, every square inch, with yellow post-it notes that simply stated "i fuken hate you bitch". i don't even remember the event that spawned the creation of those post-it's, nor does it fuken matter, for covering my room was obviously the true substance derived from that experience... furthermore, let me state that it makes me feel gitty as a virgin on prom night that i did that. haha, yeah., for no other reason than.. "cauz".., and ummm, if my world was reality, mutha fukahs would be covering all their retarded sacred spaces with such post-it notes. at work, in bathrooms, family gatherings, church, etc. etc., instead of being the waste of space that most of you people are.

just dying to live

i'm always aiming to strive to really live life, but in a literal sense, it's more like i'm really just dying to live, or living to die. well, one can't really live, if they haven't died. the weight of those words can only be measured by experiencing the difference of the two extremes. otherwise, you may think you're living, when in reality, you're merely existing, aaaaand.., let's face it, the vast majority of people are just cluelessly, contently, striving to exist..., most people really think they are living, by fuken playing their acceptable, fruitless, safe parts in a emotionally failed system. yeah, a bunch of pointless, chicken shit, people, turning their insecure noses up at extremes, when really, their stupid existence is only taking up good air for me to breathe. ugh, fuken people. so god damn predictably disappointing. if i didn't have to urge for social human contact here and there, i swear, i wouldn't even bother speaking to anyone, but myself. i don't fuken know what i'm expecting, or why i'm still surprised at people's ability to manipulate my energy, or why i even hope. i don't hope anymore. hope isn't fuken a good thing. you kidding me? hope? psssh, bullshit. let me just say, hope, it isn't a fuken magical underlying force that drives the soul to push forward. hope is just a bunch of selfish fantasies that are relative to one's own perception of the word.. serving only to spawn more expectations in which to be let down by, when people and life predictably fail to comply.

golden rules.

yes, it's all shit.
it's pointless to wonder why.
potential dies every second.
everything is as hopeless as it feels to you.
hold on to a moment, but leave behind regret.
growing up is personal progression, not consumer status.
living is hard, but so is fuken dying.
don't put time into things that have no capacity.
u don't learn shit from winning.
when in doubt, fuck.

deplorable

i don't write much anymore. in fact, i'm not inspired to do much of anything these days, unless if it's some shady illegal activity that most people really would not approve of.. which, really, makes it that much more fun. u can't take the dark side out of the force. even though at times it doesn't feel like it, it's way more bad ass to be the minority in anything.

note to self

draw old computers.

ruthless yellow bastard.

i wonder sometimes if ANYONE is perceptive enough to go "why in the fuk is this blog called 'nullibicity'? i'm not gunna front, i myself looked at it tonight and was like "fuk. what does that mean again?"... so i looked it up... then it all came back. nullibicity is considered an 'obscure' word. whatever the fuk that means... it's literal definition is "the state or condition of existing nowhere", not like stagnation. it's different. it's actually a noun. thus describing 'nowhere' as a place.., but the word was argued as being arbitrary, for lacking location entailed lacking existence, and nothing exists that is non extended. get it? well, i don't want to make you think too hard about it, god forbid. but i have to say, i fuking love that word. it got me thinking a little bit about my current state of mind/ life. if something doesn't change in my life, i will be in a state of nullibicity. what good is it for me to create, when it goes unnoticed? if i'm in isolation, how does anybody know i exist? you know, shit like that. i guess i thought at one point or another, things would just work out and it went that way for a long time. it's different now. our culture is different. times have changed, friends have grown up, potential has been sold out to consumerism, substance is no longer a virtue, action has phased out into light dinner party talk.., it's fuk over your friends, judge thy neighbor, cheat on your husband or wife, call your mom on mother's day. it's all fuking shit. all of it. and here i sit wondering.. how much longer can i hold out before i break? cauz the way things are looking, eventually u break. i already getting a bit too fucking comfortable with my own company. yeah, i kinda prefer it to this freak show people refer to as normal. irony is amazing, but i'm sure that too can only take me so far. this is not a way to live. for me at least. so what now? should i say 'fuk it', sell off my shit, which i'm doing anyway cauz our great empire hath fallen, and move out of the country? i dunno. i wanna. i'm over this rant.

i zig. u zag.

most people front about principle. bringing to the table a lot of talk, followed by little to no action... and that's ok. it's what kids/ people do. they try things. they go through phases. they invent causes to rebel against. but, for the record, i myself, don't wanna fight. it's a god damn hassle, not to mention emotionally exhausting and isolating, going against the grain of the system. believe me, i would be absolutely content with .... errrr.. content? but if you do not, wait.., if you simply cannot work with this system.. well, not only does it not work for you, it kicks you while you're down..., it does it's damned hardest to filter you through some sort of process, that eventually breaks you... and in a battlefield of life, ain't nuth'n sadder than the sight of an amputated spirit. i see potential die every fuking day man.. people just standing around, dicks in their hands, just pissing into the wind.

i'm no rebellious kid, experimenting cauz i'm curious, i'm a fuking adult, that is really starting to fully understand what it means being the minority, struggling because of my principles that cannot be bought by money, stability, etc. etc. nor do i have ANY desire to be lured with this bullshit they call the "american dream". american dream is nothing more than a fuking flavor of ben & jerry's ice cream to me. it is a damn good flavor though. ummm.. YEAH, i do contemplate all the time, ALL THE TIME, going another direction, who doesn't think about living a life that doesn't remotely resemble their own? but in the end, your principles, wrong or right, is all you have... and when i'm no longer apart of this blip we call life, i wanna make sure the fingerprint i leave in this life is fuking intact. there is no right way. it doesn't fuking matter, until your way is deemed wrong, oh god, then u deal with assholes dishing out what's "right", it's so fuking dumb. and people just don't fuking get it.. with capitalism, it's all about money... and when it's all about money, it's never about the people. i'm struggling, hard.., and that's so fuking dumb if u think about it.. struggling for no fuking reason.., not by choice, or curiosity, but for having the capacity to zig while everybody else robotically zags. dig? ...

whatever

the funny thing is.., if you chased after me, it really wouldn't be worth it in the long run. i've trained disappointment to trick my brain into turning that feeling into a form of ironic joy. i know no other way... and i'm okay with that. for i'm not normal, and thank fucking god. thank whatever for the fact that i'm not as beige as 99% of all of you. it's not a fuking easy life. in fact, i've become quite fond of the word 'martyr', and no longer look at it as a negative, but more as a "i'm fuking different enough to sacrifice what you wouldn't, for a bigger belief.", type thing. i have to, otherwise the gravity of the lifestyle would kill me instantly. yeah, it looks easy on words, but you do it, then come back to me, and we'll talk. nobody ever does. it's too bad. i think? haha.
and... yeah, i'm fuking angry. i'm fuking pissed. someone should be aware when the empire falls. well.. i suppose if i was one of you fuks, with your 'stability' and work ethic, i'd walk around with capitalistic blindness as well..., but i'm not.. and i don't judge you for it. i think it's admirable. it looks like a quality that i feel if i possessed..., it would make my life a lot easier..., but i don't know why i'm still shocked that all of you assholes so effortlessly project your lameness as judgement on me. you'll never do anything grand anyway and that's restitution to someone like me.
the stupid thing about being human is.. i really wish you'd chase after me. do something crazy... something that feels uncertain. hmmph, my starvation and poverty has got this brain daydreaming again.

the room maintains life.

yet the room continues to maintain life.
even though it looks and feels vacant inside.
all the windows are cracked and broken,
serving as visual representations of what we would rather not remember.
never shall we part.
mounds of fur and regurgitated food sit silently on the windowsill.
yet the room continues to maintain life.
it's what has been swept under the rug that pollutes the void now.
laying slightly dormant under the skin,
itching just enough for attention.
never shall we part.
now there's a lifetime that echos inside my mind.
the room wasn't always this color,
and the life that is maintained, isn't from us.
the blackest of hills forever loom within that distance.
always are we apart.
time regulated and money calculated.
the emptiness seems so deliberate,
as the abandonment is so apparent.
bound to me for an eternity,
i've tried this room on before.
slipping out of it like dresses that i don't ever wear.

individualism just becomes immune.

immune to emotions. immune to the constant let down that is the daily grind of life, that eventually, you have to succumb to, due to numerous reasons that defy everything you call 'principle'.

that huge abyss of a void, you hopelessly search to fill, that also served as some kind of a driving, mystery force, in your romanticized youth, just turns out later in life to be a progress seizing, stagnant, permanent canyon of defeat, once you come to the realization of, 'oh fuk, there's nothing that's ever gunna fill it, no matter how i change it up'...., yep. immune.

numb to the two split paths of, 'be the individual who refuses to succumb, stuck on principle, isolating yourself from the comforts the robots get, thus making you jaded,' or 'be the cookie cutter slave robot, suspended in a shallow state of common, numb happiness, that sprouts from some notion of getting it together and making payments on things you don't need, lacking almost all capacity to be empathetic and selfless'...

it's a tough call. oh well, at least i can always rely on my sunny disposition.

a lil place i like to call "stagnation land"

yeah. so let me tell you about 'stagnation land' aka emotional purgatory, but without the emotions? eh, that makes no literal sense. it's the place that i've been stuck on for.. who fuking knows, because it's stagnation. you see, it's worse than depression. depression serves a bit more purpose. like, i may write a shitty song or two out of 'tragic depression'. make some kool art. do some 'life reevaluating" self-loathing. fuk'n some bullshit like that, right. but, noooo, no, my friends, stagnation land is that hellish place that one lingers in, where 'you're not reallllly depressed, but not quite happy', where you think shit like, 'maybe i should move, but if i move than blah blah, maybe it's not the location, it's me? but blah blah'. it's the fuk'n desert/ arctic, bipolar tundra bar, that you can endlessly, without point, walk into and have 30 lifetime drinks with your good pal, 'complete lack of inspiration'.. and talk about shit that's neither 'here nor there', and about 'how nobody does anything, how so and so's changed, and remember the good old days..' .. that kind of excellent, endless, pointless conversation, that changes nothing and YET goes on cyclically for a boring eternity. it's a place of, 'there's no such thing as too much', drug consuming, followed by rants about 'principle' and 'should've, could've, would've'...

now, i refuse to believe that this is a 'coming to terms with..', 'welcome to life', this is what happens next, kinda bullshit..., but god damn it, if this phase hasn't been hanging out long enough to meet my fuk'n parents, or have it's own history book, or some shit. it's like a stupid past relationship that you still fixate on.. simply.. because.. you can.

in stagnation land, even hope will step in and fuk with you, whispering bullshit into your subconscious, 'believe there's some sort of character building, cleverly woven into this nothing, that you're gunna get out of all this', which makes you go 'okay, okay', until defeat comes charging in with AK's sling'n from every limb, screaming "not today muther fukahhhhh!" bringing in some confusing, self negating shit like "hahaha, yeah, people really do suck, friendships fade, love doesn't exist, so go write another sappy song about it retard, alcohol makes a good friend, oh yeah, things forever cost mad money, you forgot to pay your fuk'n phone bill asshole, again. your room is messy as fuk and ain't gunna clean itself [damn], you gotta do laundryyyyy forever suka cauz u out of clean underwear and no, u got no more money to buy new ones. pay up biatch. what?"
now, it is within the eye of this flurry of chaos, life tug-a-war, hurricane, that i believe stagnation land lies. yes. a boring, little, but safe, island, in which one sits on, muttering aloud 'i don't know.' over and over again, while with glossed over, glazed eyes, you blankly stare at this massive shit storm that circles the horizon. how do you get off the island? i don't know. ahaha. yeah. i'm still there. maybe i'll construct a raft that'll get me through the shit storm.. that is if i ever get inspired to.

middle skool mix

i like to do very important tings throughout the day. like make intricate mixed tapes that are obviously musical gems. today's special is a lil something i like to call "da middle skool mix". chock-full of early 90's hip hop awesomeness that filled my middle skool yearz. fuk, i'm so pumped on this, i've already listened to it like 80 times and decided to make it available fer the world to download-

click this to download middle skool mix

trak list-

my new jewelry line: print factor plumage

Etsy: Your place to buy & sell all things handmade theprintfactor.etsy.com

here's what i really want to write about.

you know, i was sitting here thinking at 6am, on a lovely.. sat? yes, sat morning, after another memorable night of, wash. rinse. repeat., and this is the thought that tinkled through my evaporating brain cells.
how i'd really like to have a blog or whatever, called "yes. yes, i was just being nice to you for you drugz"..
and in this blog thing, i'd just clearly state the obvious, over and over again. free-base shit talking, serving the only obvious divine purpose of making me laugh, like i already do in my head.. because, i am a fuk'n asshole. and in my jedi pickled mind, this makes sssoooo much awesome sense.

what separates ME from YOU: part 1

-fact: everything looks way better spray painted gold. in fact, i think at 5 am, i am gunna spray paint this here cup gold. cauz i can.

-god damn, i can party.. harder than 99% of people i know.., and wow, i love it. still, at 28, luv it. i even love it in some sort of ironic way, when i hear things like, "well, you don't have to work tomorrow blah blah.."// YEAH. that's the fuk'n point and also, not true. i set my life up to work in perfect harmony with getting wasted. yeah, i didn't just like, slip and fall into being a scum-bag. however, doing so is absolutely a job as well.. a job that most couldn't, or wouldn't want to handle.
all that hard work'n at a crap job stuff.., won't do it, can't do it, can find other ways to be in hell, thank you. people.. do what you love and i swear you'll stop being so obtuse.
so, love getting drunk. wasted in general. i really thought, probably like my parents, that it would be a phase.., oops.., looks like "wasted" is here to stay. high five. sadly, i'd have to say that wasted has been a better friend to me than 95% of people i've encountered. shame on you society.

-i will not settle. oh, i know you know what i'm talking about. [for those who apply, which is most] that person you have been going out with forever, the one you have all that "history" with, or find all that "comfort" in, yet aren't quite as attracted to as you used to be, but you make excuses for the truth.. yeah, that would be settling. oh come now, it's no secret. if you ain't getting turned on like the old days, and without being too graphic, i mean.. like that fresh, new kind of turned on.., whelp. you are merely one of the many individuals who cannot handle being alone and settle for a best friend. sorry, i don't want to fuk a best friend. not fun. blah blah. oh, and don't like that whole crap spiel about things "evolving" into a more comfortable place, save those golden words to tell yourself. anyone who tries to sell me on any other idea.., i'll just beat you to the punch by saying.., i hardly envy anyone's relationship. ugh. really. in fact, most, i despise so much, it blankets most of my loneliness and makes me happy to have only porn by my side. oh.. this also includes those who take on someone because they have diluted their mind into thinking it'll add an illusion of stability to their life.. ugh. get fuk'n real. try living some true life.. instead of taking on a "safe, stable" lil number.. just wearing a relationship, like it's a fucking court suit.. look'n good for the judge. fuk'n gross. i lump those right into the "settle, i will not" bracket as well.
what's leftover are those who semi-agree with me, but do that whole "i cannot commit, so i just fuck" thing.., well.. i remember my early 20's too. it gets harder to just bang people as time goes by. yeah. i know! f'n tripped me out to find out that it gets weirder with age too..., but with that shit, people usually get all dumb-weird, or they start spouting stoopid half lies about cryptic crap, as if i cared, or spoke cryptonics anyway.. all of that is just so predictably annoying, that most of the time, i'd rather not sleep with anyone, just to spare myself the headache.

-well boyz and gurls.., i just smoked a lot of weed and can no longer process anything deeper than eating a bean and cheese burrito and passing the fuk out...
-end jew rant transmission.

cubed... solutionized.

so, recently i solved the rubik's cube. [[ yes, yes, i'm proud too ]] obviously i just fuk'n googled 'how to solve a rubik's cube', applied the boredom that only i can harness, and walked myself right through those algorithms. solving the cube, is not a terribly difficult thing to do, but can be a lengthy process, unless you memorize all the algorithms. which is.. ummm.. boring as shit, thus obviously explaining why asians, nerds and will smith, have dominated this market. for the moment...

oh rubik's cube, what you need is a person of 'awesomeness', who is absolutely insane and bored enough to take on your algorithmic challenge and my friend, that retard is me.
now, why would i do such a boring and pointless challenge? even i need a purpose.. a 'higher' goal, so to speak.
yeah.. check it though, i have sense to my flawless logic..

so, like imagine if we were like hanging out at a party or whatever.. people sitting around, talking about shit that nobody cares about. if you are anything like me, you're sitting there thinking "jesus, why do i even bother.., i don't even like people".. you know, a party. all of the sudden i cruise up to you, the amazing species that i am, and i pull out a rubik's cube. fuk'n BOOM! solve that shit in like fuk'n 2 minutes, or something crazy like that? fuk'n hands down, it'd blow your god damn obtuse mind. you know it. i know it. thus, i'd be getting laid.
and that's my bat shit wack job rubik's cube theory.

done. cubed..., solutionized.

golden updates.

oh poor blog. poor society, how I've neglected thee.
fuk. i'm sorry, i have been busy. doing important things.. like, wasting brain cells.
solving the rubik's cube. things that need to be done.
nevertheless, i have some golden updates:

1. the other night i was driving home.. and it was like that time when the sun is about to come up.., so you can't tell whether it's 6pm or 6am.., looks wise. anyway, so i was driving home and i thought i saw a donkey in the middle of the street..., but this was no ordinary donkey. this was like a columbian coffee type donkey, ya know, being lead by valdez in the poncho. it was a beautiful one second, until i realized it was just a tree. bullshit.

2. i found a drunken/ high note that i scribbled down, titled "war pasta".. and all it said was: "don't eat pasta when you are at war. don't eat war pasta." i have no idea when this fuken golden poetry came about, or who spawned the war pasta theory, but i love it and absolutely agree.

3. this is possibly one of the best things i've seen in awhile and i'm actually kind of pissed i didn't think of this myself.
----------> http://whythefuckdoyouhaveakid.com/

4. here is why my life is gold, why my friends are gold and why it's the little fuked up out of your mind moments that make life worth living.

okay my five blog followers, [myself included], there's your update. go prosper.

the world's best date rape song

yeah, that's what it's about.
you don't fool me color me bad.
let's do this. bring on the rape.
color me date rape.
dig.


- Color Me Badd Lyrics