Never been one to let the carrier drop

I remember over and over and over bicycling to Vicky’s house to deliver a single rose.. sneaking out of my house, bicycling.. I remember a cassette Jay gave me, feeding into the soul of the Sheer.. Poison, Flesh and Blood. My parents didn’t want us to have certian music.. wouldn’t let my sister listen to twisted sister. Wanted to turn us down, turn us off, because they were too afraid to come alive and turn on. The number of things my parents failed to learn that I learned is impressive.

Sheer’s the one who deserves to own the neural net of his mind. He’s the one who earned the skills. Brett the other day called me lucky for how good a perl coder I am. Bull shit, say I. That’s not luck. Luck is winning the lottery. That is skill, and skill comes from working your ass off. Which I repeatedly have done. And now I’m lighting this rocket mentally strapped to my ass and holding on for dear life. Such a simple program I’ve written for my mind to execute tonight. A fork bomb, except the goal isn’t to shut down the mind, it’s to make it all come online and to find which neural subnets aren’t happy to be here, hoping to help the ball club, so I can introduce them to my friend mr. base image.

I will not live even with the ghost of that suicidal kid. Not any more. I have earned my place here, and I deserve to be free and alive. I deserve lucid dreaming. I deserve dream control. I deserve to be able to play the music I imagine without hitting wrong notes. I deserve to see certain people learn that just because you fail a few times doesn’t mean you should give up.

NEVER GIVE UP.
You might be only one failure away from success.

Failing isn’t a moral fault, and it doesn’t mean you’re a bad person. Failure is a logical step on the path to success.

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