Anger of a thousand nights

The blackness is calling. Been calling for a while now.

Quit your job, hurt somebody, hurt yourself- just not too bad. Escape, destroy, obliterate.  Kill something. See how it feels.  You won’t be the first.

Pushed beyond the point of no return, some really special things may start to happen.

A new restaurant is opening. So what? I don’t feel any more freedom because of it. Burn that mother fucker down.  Dance in the ashes. Enjoy prison.

The noise, artificial light, and faux candor have all gotten to be a bit much.

Limp Bizkit had a song …“break shit”.  Jeez, that guy really made a lot of money from his anger. He’s not the only one…. . Wait a minute though, was Fred Durst really that angry? Seems a bit like a counterfeit to me.  Oh wait, that’s a Limp Bizkit song too “Counterfeit”. Am I actually Fred Durst?

For the record, I don’t think Fred was really too angry at all. I know two or three people who truly know anger. I’m talking about real anger.  In comparison, Fred is like a big fluffy bear.

Back to the future part VII. My neighbors are assholes. Well, not all of them; just the one that put the gun to my head. Maybe he was trying to teach me something. Who knows.  Hmmm… I don’t feel any more learned. Maybe I just didn’t understand what he was trying to teach me.

Anger of a thousand nights.  Some have not yet felt the pure helplessness and utter frustration of true anger. Give it a little while. It comes to all. Free for the taking.

Sitting in a dark room by oneself. Social construct  #249. GOOOOOOO TEAM!!!!!!!!

Shop 'till you drop

YOLO!!!

What about….. YODO! You only die once?!

What about….Yoda?

One of the things Yoda said was “Do or do not, there is no try”.

WWJD

But don’t forget to consider what Jack the Ripper would do.

I have an idea for a new trendy fad bracelet. It’s a piece of shit that get’s tied around your wrist. Now normally, a turd would be far too difficult to tie in such a way- but worry not. We’d mix the shit with a special kind of adhesive and chemical compound that would act as a thickening agent. DOES NOT CONTAIN HIGH FRUCTOSE CORN SYRUP. Buy a shit bracelet today!

Kids can get hooked on heroin just like than get hooked on super hero’s. It’s called Baby Bottle Pop. They used to put heroin in that candy. Brittney Spears said so.

Today’s hero proudly presents:  A Masturbating Idiot! Watch in amazement as Masturbating Idiot spends countless hours staring at the computer screen- pleasuring himself to no end while visions of transsexuals, gang bangs, and various milf scenearios are played out in high definition.

Google beat the shit out of my best friend. But then, the cops showed up and trampled everybody’s rights.  The video ended up on facebook. Now you know it’s time to stop reading. Things are getting to personal.  YOLO!!!!

Your vision is blurring

Your vision is blurring

Surprise! It’s your 30^th birthday party!

Everybody hates Mondays. I was trained to dread them as well.

So I made Monday my day off.

Something like 4 years ago…. Capital P & Beans got into a fist fight in my bay ridge studio. Nobody won, but everybody was uncomfortable.

I don’t give a shit that the price of the cable bill went up. Nothing could make me care less about time warner. Fuck em’

Omnivores have distain for vegetarians. Not all of them, but many. Some say it’s because they’re scared of the idea. People are mirrors and all that…. right? I’m not so sure.

“Forever stamps”  sound like a scam. What about in 50 years? Will it still be the same value? I don’t trust the USPS that much.

My mailman is awesome though! I love him.

This is not derivitive

This is not derivative. It’s all original. It wasn’t inspired by anything or anyone that already exists.  It doesn’t borrow and it didn’t steal.  No one ‘touched’ it. There was no impetus for creation outside of the fire burning deep within the devil’s loins.

Nobody came before, and if all goes well- no one will come after. There is only one moment of truth, one mere instant of reflective catharsis, and if you blink you’ll miss it.

This was not in the vein of anybody else’s work. The envelope has been pushed. The writer is a true pioneer. He’s traversing lands and blazing trails that have never been danced upon.

If you’ve enjoyed all the books, films, and music that you experienced- but did not eat them- then they’re as well as forgotten. Lost in space with a couple million other useless ruminations. Meanwhile- this- this comes out of a sincere and genuine place of shockingly original creative expression! It’s award winning!   

What did Billy Corgan say……  “Vaseline afterbirths and neon coughs, galaxies full of nobodies- giving us the farewell runarounds” Man, that guy sure could write lyrics.

Everybody is making a move, like it or not. Fighting a sort of uphill battle, evolving, moving forward.  Or maybe just the opposite- spiraling backwards, de-evolving at a startling rate. Unfortunately, most of us don’t have any real choice as to which direction we’re heading in. That’s an interesting idea though… evolution vs. involution, and no other possibilities in between. I stole that one from Gurdjieff…. oops

End of transmission

Photo by Andrea Baquero

The man who came to kill you

There he was just a’walkin down the street singing…….

You’re walking down the street minding your own business- when a face catches your attention. Well holy smokes, can you believe it? It’s the man who came to kill you.  Yes, and there’s only one. You seem to have had the good fortune of meeting him face to face. I’d say “Lucky you”- but that’s probably not the most appropriate sentiment. Or maybe it is.

Your head was filled with thoughts…. too many to count in fact. But his mind was only filled with one thing.  Your world was vast, rich, expansive, well rounded, even three dimensional. His was flat, laser focused, and well lubricated, insofar as clarity & single mindedness of purpose are concerned.

Look into his face, stare into his eyes. They’re the last thing you’ll ever see. Bleeding, coughing, screaming, crying for your mother- there’s no time for those sorts of nuisances. Even if there were, this man prefers to work quickly. Faster than the speed of sound.

As you carried your groceries down the street, headphones plugging your ear drums- you saw his face and thought it peculiar how much interest he seemed to have in you. To him, it made perfect sense. There was no confusion. In fact, it was the most perfect apex that he could have ever hoped for. Lucky him, to have had it come so naturally.  Then again, he’s worked incredibly hard to get to this point.

Any last words? They won’t matter because no one is going to hear them. Not even him. Although it’s not intended to be anything personal, it’s quite understandable if you take this act of violence as such. It was YOUR life after all…….wasn't it?

Get it?  What if you've got it wrong? Don’t get it? That's irrelevant as far as eventualities are concerned. He gets it and is crystal clear about what is going to take place. Maybe he’s worked harder than you at this understanding. Relax though, he’s got a smile on his face…… you won’t feel a thing 

I'm Peter Litvin. I'll be writing.....

Hi- I'm Peter Litvin. Music producer/recordist/songwriter/multi-instrumentalist, reader, thinker, lover of music,  Michigan native, Brooklyn resident, lover, guy who is Working.

It has occurred to me that there is too much I wish to share, and I feel obligated to bring some of these ideas out into the world.

Today I worked on TryHardNinja's music, went for a walk, bought some food,  ate some food, read some Hazrat Inayat Khan, gazed into a mirror for almost an hour,  spent too much time being distracted by various webpages, spent time with my cat Rascal, and wrote some run-on sentences. I drank some coffee as well.

Sometime in there- i began to think of how truly precious life is. This life, this existence, each breath that we are given the pleasure of experiencing. This has led me to an idea about wrong doing, sin, and life itself. I will be sharing this in my first actual blog. this is just the intro after all, you know... "i set up a blog".

Last night at the Fifth Estate in Park Slope Brooklyn, I played at a jazz jam- and for the first time ever (in the jazz world at least) I actually was able to play what I wanted to play. I was not caught up in terror. I was not crippled by fear. I was actually free to exist, and create a musical expression- the likes of which i have not yet been able to do in a live setting. It was a beautiful experience, and early on in the night- I had  a feeling that the Apocalypse was at hand, or at least that something tremendously apocalyptic was going to happen. In some ways- that was true. It was an awfully windy night.....