Six Dollar Clowns

Only today because I mentioned it in my “How I Learned to Hate Beyoncé” lesson, did she even exist way back then, every generation talks about the music before but this was the job before… Hardee’s. Six Dollar Clowns hmm

Ha Ha, Oh boy
Or girl
Really the whole damn world
What will it be sir
Voices and noise

Laughing and snacking
Is it not enough?
Maybe I’m just not tough
It’s all just too much
My soul is cracking

They’re attacking
Employers yes
Employees a mess
Guests
My soul, shattering

It’s too much
The noise
No joy
Call me a scared little boy
As you serve and eat your mush

Wearing tin grins
Throwing away your trash
Blow it out your ass
And you wonder why I’m sad
Because in the end…

To shout out
I can only stand around
Be bound
Another one of you six dollar clowns
Early clock out

Six dollar clown
But I’m not happy
It’s maddening
Working for Hardee’s
A fool, a loser, a nothing, I wear a frown

Copyright © 2011, Will A. Bradford Jr. All rights reserved.

Lesson 017 ~How I Learned to Hate Beyoncé~

This is what you get when you listen to Beyoncé for three hours straight, I like to think I have much better taste in music. How I Learned to Hate Beyoncé, might not sound like it from this but if I never heard her music again or life story

Tuesday, July 18, 2017

Lesson 017 ~How I Learned to Hate Beyoncé~

Hey Lady Lu,
When we pretend that we’re dead, trust me it was the only way I survived at work today and this will be a rather musical lesson today. Crappy music at that since it will be mostly Beyoncé; I am Destiny’s Child at that, you know the one no one talks about, reminds me of “home”

Lose my breath, amongst other things whenever I show up to work, my voice, my nerve, my heart, and maybe my man card with the direction this is going. Talk about losing my life but the only life that was almost lost today was a cat that ran out in front of my car at work. I don’t think I’ve ever killed any “real” animals, my apologies to the squirrel population; I nearly hit a deer once, and a dog slammed into the driver’s side door.

Power, you and I should have all that power Lady Lu, ancient Chinese secret, did I ever mention how I get through most of my day if I had a million dollars; okay I’ll slow down a bit with the song titles, sounding like my poetry. I’ve actually interviewed for a few promotions but we know with the “Anxiety” that’s never really going to happen for me is it? You remember when I was wrestling with you know who and I caught both of her wrists… yeah, that sort of dominance would not be welcomed in the workplace ever.

Bootylicious as they think they are, but that’s a rant for another day, and I’m all about the Ned Flanders life, you know what happens whenever I like a girl. Speaking of which I never understood why people like Beyoncé that much, though back in the day I did have an eye for one of her partners, on my iPhone.

Don’t fear the reaper though, as crappy as most days at work though, short of the Beyoncé today was actually better than most even without my medication. How many things will remind me of “the incident”, most of the times that’s what the meds do, not remind me but make it so it won’t matter.

“We’re gonna eat these, Hannah, okay? Come on – You eat these. Eat these.

Are you trying to kill me?

No, sweetheart. I’m making you not care.” 28 Days Later

Haunted, now that’s a good way to describe it; you know I haven’t talked to another cute brunette in weeks and honestly, I can’t be the one to break the silence. I’ve said some pretty messed up things about girls of course, but to be a dream is better than a ghost right; no Lu I am not that crazy though plenty thought that about me which got me in a lot of trouble. People wonder why I lost the more romantic side of myself and if I had to describe it in any way it’s when Tony left Stella “How I Met Your Mother”.

“So what, you’re-you’re appealing to the romantic in me? Is that your strategy? Because that guy’s gone.
You can’t pull those strings anymore.
They’re not attached to anything thanks to you.” Ted Mosby – As Fast As She Can, HIMYM

99 Problems and a bitch ain’t one… that’s damn straight and I wish I could scream that out but wouldn’t that make me a weak and pathetic man, a catcaller of sorts. That’s just it Lady Lu, women think so much of themselves until it’s brought up and then if you have the right bank account, the right hype, the right face then it really doesn’t matter, don’t tell me it doesn’t. Don’t I sound bitter, more at myself than anything because at work when dude left, I could have decided the music right, I had that opportunity but I let anxiety stop me, fear, if only I had a Jay Z level of confidence.

Irreplaceable, don’t I wish but I have to keep silent, not to said I haven’t been missed or I haven’t shown courage listening to the tunes I do from time to time at work. It wouldn’t really matter though, Target, Wendy’s, Hardee’s (okay the six dollar clowns were mostly my fault) anyway who I am never really mattered in a way, with “Tall Ms. Seasonal” it was to the left.

“What do you mean, he didn’t talk? You were in there for an hour.

He just sat there, counting the seconds until the session was over. It was pretty impressive, actually.

Why would he do that?

To prove to me that he doesn’t have to talk to me if he doesn’t want to.

What is this, some kind of staring contest between two kids from the old neighborhood?

Yeah, it is. And I can’t talk first.” Good Will Hunting (1997)
Ordinary Human Lu, no I’m just human, no more and plenty of people would think a lot less; hell honestly I rather listen to Beyoncé than the things people say about me. The most people get out of me is a noise, though I do scoff at the general manager from time to time because really it’s just that ridiculous.

Crazy in love, not with any person so at least things aren’t that bad, though this song is, not the Fifty Shades of Grey version, or the Fifty Shades Darker one. Just another thing to think about, when I was at the store, a day ago this lady came up to me talking about our different tastes in root beer, and other than being annoying I actually thought, if I get famous I won’t have to do this anymore… shopping. From the looks of it Luna, you won’t make me famous but I part of the reason I’m talking to you is that of competition.

Don’t let me die tonight, I’ve never said but reasons I have to stay alive, at the top of the list, my Braxton, but as always somewhere is the thought of revenge. Remember I was all confession at first but now any money that isn’t going towards my new addiction “Saints Row” is going towards my writing and it’s all because of some woman. I don’t want her to hear me but I want everybody else to, I wonder do Jay Z and Beyoncé care that every aspect of their lives are just out there?

Runnin, my mouth that is or my fingers, I’m getting later and later with these my lady but I am trying, though at the moment I am having my fill of women… not in a good way. So what have I learned today… that I wish I could be a loud mouth like some, that most women are crazy and oh yeah this is How I Learned to Hate Beyoncé.

Dreaming Awake

I usually don’t have nightmares when I’m sleeping but since I have been working it seems the days and the nights are beginning to blur and being awake is a nightmare. Dreaming Awake… I think I rather not dream at all anymore and yet I continue

Dreaming awake, sweet dreams really…
Can you hear, oh the time
It’s just like kneeling
How God denies
The very existence of my life
Doesn’t he make mistakes?
I know your lie
Dreaming awake

All that I’ve been feeling
You’re just as blind
Watching is like killing
Behind those closed blinds
Think you’re so divine
Like him a fake
As I try to drive
Dreaming awake

Screaming yet somehow I’m dealing
But me you’ll never find
Closed doors and jeering
Yeah I want to hide
Or just to cry
Everything I have take
Let me sign
Dreaming awake

Yet I fight
Won’t begin to pray
Just let me die
Dreaming Awake

Copyright © 2011, Will A. Bradford Jr. All rights reserved.

Grisly Load – A Process

Life for want of a box; seems somewhat ironic that I am surrounded by boxes at work and no I don’t work at a funeral parlor; I work at hmm… Grisly Load – A Process… most days I empty boxes of crap and all I want to do is curl up in one and die.

The box awaits its grisly load
Should I be food for worms?
Or let it burn
A prince, no I’m a toad
Because I’m all alone
How I continue to turn
Will I never learn?
Can I never fold?

And end this ridiculous game
Take my cards
Break my heart
For I am too ashamed
To live within this box
I just want it to STOP!!!

Copyright © 2011, Will A. Bradford Jr. All rights reserved.

With Life’s Sojourn

What is the point of an existence to simply continue that existence, especially one as pathetic as mine? With Life’s Sojourn… how if anything I have been wanting to move towards death and I keep backing up as if that was my fault, which I know it is.

Starting to learn
I’ve always been cursed
With life’s sojourn

Backward I turn
So I’m never first
To win, I’m always spurned

Stopped dead sir
Not nursed
Is no one concerned?

As I go to earn
In this shell that’s so much worse
Yet doesn’t burn

Ashes to an urn
Another day on this earth
Can’t even “Grr”

Was it different, the way we were?
What am I even worth?
Starting to learn
With life’s sojourn

Copyright © 2011, Will A. Bradford Jr. All rights reserved.

Working Stiff

Working myself to the bone… more like working while I’m shaking in my bones; I don’t just hate going to work but I’m afraid to. Working Stiff… I couldn’t be one of those zombies even if I wanted to be but that doesn’t stop me from dying inside.

Working Stiff
Think
What a jiff

All I have to give
Stinks
Take a good whiff

That’s me trying to live
And yet I blink
My dreams are nixed

This is not it
Kool-Aid to drink
Then I’d be fixed

But I drift
The missing link
I just don’t fit

Read my lips
Better yet my ink
Working Stiff
What a jiff

Copyright © 2011, Will A. Bradford Jr. All rights reserved.

Pupil Pushed

Pupil pushed
Rolled into the skull
How I am bushed
This life a lull
Why bother a look
A word made dull

Blind to the kind
Was there ever such a thing?
So sublime
Look at me
And talk about kindness
Somewhere lost in the dark
Such is blindness
A breaking… that’s my heart

Blind in line
The back of someone’s head
When will it be my time?
I heard everything you said
Stay inside
No life to create
Outside
And so I wait

Blind to the time
The past I can’t forget
The future I can’t find
And what of the present
Today and tomorrow
What I have found
Sad hours follow
Tears threaten to drown

Blind in the divine
Can you see God?
Or only the blind
The mob
Leading the blind
Darkness mistook for light
Chained and tied
This isn’t right

Blind to what is mine
Which is nothing
So I don’t buy your lies
But to own something
To touch, to feel
If only to see
And I know it’s real
Yet I can’t even see me

So let my eyes roll
Be pushed to see lies
How am I to know?
I’m not the only one who’s blind

Copyright © 2011, Will A. Bradford Jr. All rights reserved.

Reputed Undisputed

Back when I was finding myself or am I still trying and I pretty much hated Hardee’s at the time which is a long story, or a short one since I only worked there one day, anxiety can be Hell. Reputed Undisputed, as if anyone could see the real me

Am I still STANDING?
Never landing
Forgotten how to fly
Wonder why
Forever damned
I don’t understand
“Too stupid”
You said it

The CHARACTER I play
Who am I today?
A fool a coward
Scream it louder
And laugh hardy
Hardee’s
Because day one
Who I was

The VIEWS that are expressed here
I’ve been hearing for years
Anyone
And everyone
For once the world agrees
I’d fall to my knees
If God’s opinion
Wasn’t like his minions

By all ESTIMATIONS
I am mistaken
A mistake
That no one should make
Not a failure but a fail
Doomed to Hell
From what
No buts

A first IMPRESSION
I’m elected
The worst
Your curse
Not worth
My birth
And I can’t make a second one
So I don’t

And so my reputation
The thoughts of a nation
My life today, my repute
Why fight it; it is the truth

Copyright © 2011, Will A. Bradford Jr. All rights reserved.

Checkered Past

Life shouldn’t be a game but who am I to make that call, if anything life should be more than mine, more than black and white, unless we were talking about women but I’m not anymore at least. Checkered Past, so my life was and still is

Jumped and thumped
Bumped and dumped
Across this board called life
Why must I fight

A game I don’t want to play
Anyway
But here I am today

With dreams to be king
Isn’t that the thing
A dream to win
I do but sin

And am made false
At such cost
Waiting for that final loss

Checked again and again
Where do I begin
To leave such a predicament
Confidence?

When I am surrounded
Astounded
Yet bounded

To head to the other side
Try and survive
This board
A want to be more

Than a drama queen
A king
I want to be…

Oh checkmate
I am far too late
Because of what is true
And what I was made into

That’s my ass
At last
My future is my Checkered Past

Copyright © 2011, Will A. Bradford Jr. All rights reserved.

Tail, Tale, Tell

People don’t follow the heroes, they come to you, same as the villains, and I’m done following pretty girls of all different hair varieties and a pox on 99% of politicians. Tail, Tale, Tell, maybe, I’m still thinking about my anxiety maybe.

If it wasn’t Peter, playboy, potion
to the tune of number nine or Mambo No. 5
a cape in the sun
or that slow march towards oblivion
which is everywhere or chasing some tail
Wherever men choose to wallow
and fields must be kept fallow

for years under the notion
that in or to survive
They must run
jump or swim the Stygian
Like a hero in some fairytale
you expect for me to swallow
asking why can’t I be Apollo

riding in slow motion.
I’m going to see if I’m really alive
because you won’t be the one
So don’t be forgiving then
Even if there is no one to tell
The words may sound hollow
but never again will I follow

Who?

Copyright © 2017, Will A. Bradford Jr. All rights reserved.