Too young or too old?

“Either you are too old or then too young for something, you always seem to be at the wrong age at the wrong time” Gun Roswell

Too young or too old?

You are too young to understand, but you are also too old to play with toys

You are too old to live at home, but too young to get to an old folks home

You are too young to think of such things, but you are too old to not have a plan

Whatever the age, there is always a restriction of what you can or cannot do

Seems no matter what, you always end up on the wrong side of the age fence

And so, if you are stuck in the age mind loop of things, nothing moves along

So, forget age, be what you want to be, no matter how many stages you have gone through

Life is hard and living no matter the age is, an so all that which really matters

Doing the things you like at whatever stage, playing, laughing, trying on new things

Totally so, on the rocks!

“On the rocks you say? Order a soft drink of the same name perhaps? Or just, life in general being just that? Usually, it’s either one or the other, or then second preceding the first option!” Gun Roswell

Totally so, on the rocks!

Life, death, life, things that nature, whatever the situation might just be, being totally alive or having died? Well, I would hope that while writing this ditty, I am alive, or at least, pretending to be, for you see, being on the rocks, totally so, and not even getting the drink to top it all! Well, guess, this really does seem like a dream of sorts, as seen, when, not totally dead or alive, just somewhere there between a state, where a moment of hesitate comes upon the dreamer, well, me, thinking, where am I? Is this really a dream or real life and what is even real life? Then I remember, the fact, of not really being dead either, simply having escaped, the place of the rocks, or rather, laying on top of some very pointy ones, stabbing in the back, really nasty things those are and so, having simply escaped, to this dream world and only waiting for the dreaded moment, when the day calls and I got to get up and there it goes, the alarm! So, guess, on the rocks it will be, for at least, a while!

My life in seasons of a show

“This shit show of a life we are living in, doesn’t it make you think someone is totally calling the shots from somewhere else? Like some last season alien video game with enough outrageous drama in it to think it was written by monkeys?“ GunRoswell

My life in seasons of a show

Ages zero through ten were the prequel, simply to setup the show, the preface, the prologue if you will, just a trial run to see if anyone was interested in watching it at all.

Hitting the teens and turning twenty something, the rebel area and the adulthood, when running amok totally confused. So real for sure no writer could me that shit up?

Thirty, forty yeah, not feeling sporty but perhaps trying something on for a size, a life? The thing everyone is talking about. The thing you’re supposed to be living. The good years? Well, I fear the writer making my stuff up, fell asleep at the keyboard, snoozing through that time as did I.

Fifty, sixty, well, what can I say? Life is what it is the changes happening, something crappening, and so moving along in a pace, nothing really feeling the same even if deep down inside the kid from ten still exists.

Seventy, eighty, yeah old lady, or something else, whatever it feels like, hitting the big times? Golf anyone? Hey writer! Where the hell did you come up with these scenarios anyway? It’s all just a big cliche!

Ninety, perhaps a hundred? Well, congrats! This is the end goal for some poor souls, and hey, if you have reached this level in the game you can only yourself for it blame!

And so, the aliens playing this boring and stupid game finally realise they should go outside and perhaps develop something a little less of a boring screenplay.

Life reflected in the liquid

“Life reflected in water no less, ready to dive in?” Gun Roswell

Life reflected in the liquid

Life can be scaring, living it that is

But if you feel real daring, don’t let it 

Stop you from diving in

Just like the blue liquid, take a spin

Dive real deep inside of the whirlpool

Even if you might feel like a total fool

Simply let it all go

And just let the eternal flow

Guide you to wherever you feel

Even if the future seems unreal

Because if you’d do not dare

Then the much bigger scare

Will be the regret at the end

Of life without living having spent

The cookie thief

“The cookies are so delicious, why not try to eat them all!“ Gun Roswell

The cookie thief

The sugar rush pending, whenever the smells of the baked goods are ascending, up and in the air of the house, where someone lucky person’s spouse is doing a favour for the hungry crowds.

The cookies are being baked and onto the plates laid, all warm and tasty looking, the perfect kind of cooking, the sugary blobs of flower and water and something else, but the baker never really tells.

It doesn’t really matter, as the taste of them is so good, and even if you know you really shouldn’t take seconds, thirds and even forth helpings of the good stuff, well, guess, this cookie thief, simply cannot get enough!

Because yes, even if the offer was there to eat as much as wanted, it feels like stealing, as it is soo damned good and can’t say no!

Life, is a recycle

“The cycle of life, birth, living, death, a few the smiles, the eternal strife, it’s all simply, a form of things being recycled, am I right?” Gun Roswell

Life, is a recycle

They say all the intellectual properties have all already been done, by the selected few masters, perhaps in the very past, but maybe something new maybe there also and then retweeted by the masses.

Whether it is a simple repost of someone stating something great or even cheering for hate, there are those reposting, everything. Recycling every single word and picture found out there, on the world wide web.

It might be even someone you idolise, having said or done something clever, like your neighbours cat or Baby Yoda, whomever… But the internet of things, where we so much time spend is basically just that, recycling everything and anything.

The same can be said for life.

Whether it is poor choices or old memories, reliving those special and not so special events. Or then simply going through the daily grind, the supposed life.

It’s all the same really, just think about it: Sleep, eat, rinse and repeat. 

And if lucky enough somewhere there smack in the middle of it, maybe having some new idea, a break from the ideal, a trip or a party perhaps?

In school the teachers taught as all they know? Maybe, at least, some of the things, making the information flow, circling around and to everyone.

We as adults move along, repeating the steps of others, our parents, grandparents and so on. Then as parents pushing the learnt knowledge to our offspring, the cycle continues…

At work reusing the already invented and proven processes and methods, as why invent the wheel, it is round anyway and well, a circle. Moving along, in rounded circles.. see the repeating theme here?

Then the trash, yeah, that is the ultimate recycle! But that is a whole other tale, all the stuff we accumulate… and then throw away. Perhaps try not to do that to our lives?

In the end, its all just fine, admitting to it and then moving along with the circle of life! Heck, even the name says it all. Circle, life, recycle?

And so, whatever your belief or faith might just be, in the end, life itself might just repeat after death, a total and complete recycle of beings.

I myself, will certainly want to come back as a cat, that much is sure, as having all the internet cheering for me just being me! But then I would not care about any kinds of cycles, re or not. Except perhaps for a ball of yarn, that’s circular, right?

A day of irritation

“There is nothing like walking up from the wrong side of the bed, the whole day totally spoiled!” Gun Roswell

A day of irritation

Yeah, it is that kind of day, when all you see around you is chaos and dismay, the short lived dreams, or rather nightmares behind now, but cannot help the display of a frown, a permascowl rather as nothing, absolutely not one single thing, did go right, ever since that alarm clock chimed.

And so, with all the bile sticking into the throat, not even the neighbour’s smirking goat, can lift up the spirits, fingers digging into the thick layer of clothing, only hoping its enough against the weather outside, then headed out the door, the slippery ice road ahead, not helping the mood but instead, going down, luckily the thick ass cushioning the fall, but the snowy stuff, is enough, to irritate the already fowl, sour state.

So, getting up, huffing and puffing, into the car, luckily having been dug out from under piles and piles of the white stuff having fallen from the skies, the night before, so at least, there is that, even if the derrière feels rather sore, but don’t want to be late from work, so heading to the traffic, soon on the highway, at least, on the right lane.

At the office, they all start pouring in, as despite the good intentions of having a happy face plastered on, trying to stay strong, but then, like often, idiots happen, and ain’t that a great continuation for a day ahead, which had already tarted so greatly, and yes, I am stating that quite sarcastically!

Another day of total irritation, how fun!

Life Block (as we know it)

“There is nothing worse than an obstacle, which cannot be removed from hindering continuation on the chosen path” Gun Roswell

Life Block (as we know it)

I am buried deep in the deepest of voids, so deep I cannot see the light, as I feel like I am locked inside, my very own mind, the life as I know it does not matter, as I am unable into it tether

The daily grind on the automatic, simple as that, as leat it is all static, less frantic but almost a fanatic, of how the must to do, pushes on

Eat, work, sleep, repeat… the cycle goes on, feeling defeated

Without an ending in sight, the once ever present fight, now lost, somewhere in the hassle of it all, as not even time here wants to stall, ticking away in a fast pace

The block, tightly locked, therefore, the loop keeps on repeating, like a mouse in its small wheel, I do time steal, only away from myself

The not moving on, again trying to explain, yeah, it’s that same supposed block, which keeps on preventing all else and so I am depending on holding onto that stopping block of a thing

Because maybe, I don’t even want to move on?

Be a cupcake

“If you want to be one, then just be whom ever you want to be, even a cupcake!” Gun Roswell 

Be a cupcake

If you don’t feel like being ordinary, bring just like everyone else, just like the out of the box version of every single fellow human walking the streets, then perhaps, you are on a quest for something quite different, something unique and the perfect thing which will you most certainly separate yourself from the rest of everyone else.

And once you have decided, not that it is written in stone and it needs to be the one permanent decision for the rest of your life, then no, as you can try several more on for size, before you even have to decide, and be advised, there are so many great options out there, so do, go out there and explore until you find what you seek.

 And so, whatever you want to become, is there for the taking, and do forget all that hating, because those doing it, are simply jealous because they are not able or willing to choose this exceptional experience, of being something else, even for a moment, if only for a fantasy try.

The concentration of a photographer

“The dusk setting in, final rays of the sun, painting colours over the water and land, but the pix snappers work is never done, as this is where the fun only just begins” Gun Roswell

The concentration of a photographer

That perfect moment, only there for a second, concentration of the essence as the need to capture the very scene, is vital, mental even for the snapper of every which event happening all around and everywhere

Hysterics is the best way to describe the mood, of the snapper, having clicked, way too soon, but sometimes, they might just succeed and the perfect capture is presented right there, on the screen

But, these days, even with all the fancy technology, devices plentiful and always at hand, pun intended, the moments go past so fast, the hand eye coordination cannot fathom what happened and so, the blurry snaps, filling the storage fast

Still, if even one of the millions, is as good, a stamp of approval there should be put, then a happy face on the snapper will replace, the permascwol usually present

Then again, what is considered a good or great snap, is debatable, just check out the facts out there on the world wide internets.