uchasingxsafetyo

[uchasingxsafetyo]

It goes: Rogers, Then Bell and/or TELUS. But it’s also like, Shaw and/or TELUS first, and then everyone else. ATB first. Then BMO, Scotiabank, CIBC/Simplii, And then everyone else including TD; who I am with. ROGERS AND ATB though!~*cough* I mean AND SHAW COMMUNICATIONS THOUGH *COUGH* ROGERS AND ATB; yup that was it: "Instincts

[uchasingxsafetyo]

"I don't know you very well... but, I'm in love with Kourtney Kardashian"

[uchasingxsafetyo]

Close my eyes just for tonight the sun still sleeps

AND WHEN SHE WAKES!

Now that I’ve gotten your attention,

I’m not dead.

One day The Social apocalypse will be summoned by the digital ring of fire and thiswill be all that is left..........

TUMBLR!!! <3

Facebook? Insta? snap. Twitter?

No no no. No.

I won’t be a poet on here, it’s just like, HOLY FUCK! Tumblr.

Message me, on Tumblr ;D

[uchasingxsafetyo]

Untitled

When I was kicked out of my house and living among-st my fellow human being - all I wanted to do was to help people. I had this instinct and strong suit to help people, and be a good Samaritan. I could feel and sense people’s feelings clearly, and blatantly. It was written all over everyone’s faces - Reality. November 2016.

I knew that it was my mission, my calling. My own mindset was promising, more than hopeful - that - Geraldo is going to find his way. Holy belief and positive faith in me. I knew what I was doing. I knew what I was going to do.

I felt as if I was witnessing everybody dying, or getting arrested. Leaving. People were pissed. People were lost. People were addicted to drugs, and people knew me. A face so promising with words of expression far less than ego.

The true city was lost and the streets were really sucky.

I had to prove and I knew that I could make a difference…then I HAD to make a difference.

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After a psychotic severely anxious marijuana relapse, I went to the Royal Alex Hospital. Where it all began. Where I was born.

So many people were beyond sick and terribly unsure. Like…Purgatory. I myself was terribly ill, with the rest of the bunch. I remember the sound of human lives in agony, pain, betrayal, indecency, and unfairness. It was - honestly, so raw, so real. Inequitable.

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Something as simple as “Hi. How are you doing?” could’ve gone a long way - For sure.

You know what I did after that? I shed half of my life in the secret corridor. The holy purgatory. The cement floors were filled with sand, like a real life biblical story. This special place was a connecting corridor between the parking lot and the hospital.

There were no windows. There were no views, but you could hear the sounds of life on the streets while you fall in exhaustion, reconciliation - confession and brace from the wind; the piercing cold, and the black skies of before December.

Nothing had really hit me as hard as the second day of ungraceful skies. The second day of many, of grey skies and unanswered questions. October 25th, 2016. However that is a story that is just, practically unimportant anymore.

My only regret… was not competing my mission. Was facing my fears on the floor, and only having my disgusting body, and dis-tainted face to offer. I did not help anyone at all. Instead I just paid attention and kept my mouth shut, which I knew was wrong. So wrong.

So many people were dying man. So many beautiful faces. I’m not lying when I say that I watched the city with my eyes, as everything died.

I didn’t do what I set out to do - What I PROMISED. Everyone could see my shame and my regret.

You know what I did after that? I got up the next morning and went to McDonald’s. I may have been grateful and honest, peaceful and attracting, but I wasn’t. Because after that, I pretended to get away. I ran away in a vehicle. November 29th or 30th…29th.

The largest selfish.personal catastrophe for me was seeing all of the plaques in the hospital, of the honored, the contributors, the winners, the pioneers. The true pioneers. Edmonton’s successes and successors. It’s leaders. The ones that we live by and because of everyday, to this day; and coming back to the hospital and seeing the wall and they are all Gone! All of them! Taken down, missing, neglected. Forgotten.

I knew it was my fault (seriously). I knew it was because I just sat there and stared at them. In my hopeless discouraging psychosis and failure, for hours! I did not conquer my calling!!! :’(

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INTERMISSION

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I know I was the saviour. I knew that we were the only true hope. That same night, the day that I dissipated, I met a couple at Elephant & Castle on the third floor of Edmonton Center. A Young One. My age. He knew I was psychotic. My nose was piercing red. I told them all of my passions and dreams so quickly, and I sang beautifully for them beside the city center hotel. They were so sweet. Like magic! I told them how I wanted to document my life up to that point. My perspective and mental strength. Whether it’d be through a journal, a voice recording, or a beautiful and charismatic webcam video. Or all three! Gosh it’s so recognizably beautiful and inspiring to be in the presence of true live. So cute!!! <3 We went to a hotel but couldn’t get in because none of us had a credit card. Then we went to the tavern and had a rockin’ time. The three of us. Nothing but true love & Understanding.

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THE MIDNIGHT: NOVEMBER 30, 2016

I was standing inside of 7/11 on Jasper Avenue. I talked to a cop on a bike about my life, my views and opinions on this holy freezing time of year. I feel like I mattered to some degree because he took it upon himself to take out his telephone and record me with a promising charming grin on his face. I opened my 2017 Farmers’ Almanac book to it’s first two pages of the first chapter which included President Barack Obama and Prime Minister Justin Trudeau’s formal letters of acknowledgement side by side. I left it on the bar with trust as I paced through the store forth and back and went outside for cigarettes. With my brothers and my peers I talked about how I wanted to get out of town. I didn’t suggested but it was said, by him. I should head for Red Arrow in the morning, he says. Said with ego inside, I think it was blatantly obvious that I was indeed - far too good for this experience of lost vagabonding. At least three other people finding shelter in the store truly loved me and believed in me because when I came back inside the store from a smoke I noticed two gem stones on my pages of my book. I couldn’t hel; it. They were beautiful. Another one offered to give me his car, I wouldn’t take it but the key was sitting there next to my stuff. My book and my honestly written napkin notes. This is all true! I wouldn’t take the car key though, I was too humble.

Shortly after this, brother David approached me and said: “Hey let’s go. Let’s go yo. Let’s get out of here”.

We walked for hours through street blocks and train stations. It was so cold. We were smokin’ with cigarettes and for the first time he had said to me: “You haven’t lived have you?”/ We were looking for a ride, a way to escape. We talked to literally everybody we saw and used our charisma and intelligence to shelter from the cold until it was time to go. In a way, David taught me how to survive myself, with everything I know. We went to condominium buildings and hotels in the core. At one point we were in a car drinking rum and coke with another bloak who had just lost his job, got laid off and was on EI. We ended up at Starbucks in Oliver at six in the morning. I had felt so revived even though I already knew what it felt to stay up, awake, for days. We listened to music endlessly on this journey through the tinny little speaker on my phone. Believe it or not, decide to believe it - I partied and danced for the first time in my life.

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We left Starbucks and went to the Tim Horton’s/Wendy’s combo next to Best Buy. Light! Shelter! Food and people. Morning people and college students; we ran into a francophone brother. I don’t remember his name.

“Partying isn’t about the alcohol or the drugs. It’s about the state of mind, the motives, and the overall mindset and intentions”.

We snorted loads of various unknown drugs, even my Prozac and Olanzappine. I had never done anything like it in my life. It was so different, and nobody said jack to or about us, because clearly we knew what we were doing.

I was sleep deprived and euphoric. I had a heightened sense of self worth and in that moment of alleged superiority, I knew what I wanted to do with my life. As I observed the time of year and the way suit and tie people and college students were still pushing their lives. I thought: “You know what?”. Since mother fuckers never loved us, and this Atlanta southern drug dealer thing started to creep up on me. I said to myself: “These people keep pushing their lives as if they don’t know what’s really going on in the world right now. I’m gonna push dope on these people”. I already knew how to do it. I mean I know lots of people in the game anyways. I already sold quite a bit of pot to the African community and neighborhood homies and kokums during my time this season of the year on these streets. I felt very high and superior in this moment in the restaurant, and everybody could feel it. Everybody believed me and had faith and trust in my ego - driven promise of seniority. Staff members never thought about kicking us out, they were very caring and joyous towards us. I was king. It was cool. At last. Proper respect! Acknowledgement. No judgement, no fright or offense- just trust, and I was gone with the wind.

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I went to Grey Nuns to see dad. I got a hint that he was back at the hospital after I left home. I would visit but no-one was home. Front light on, but no people in the house and no wheelchair. I needed my keys back and I had a plan. Don’t break into your own house like Officer “Believe-in-Gerardo” told me on the phone to do to get my stuff. Go to the hospital and visit the asshole and ask him for a favor. Tensions were strong so I had to ease myself into his head. I actually left and went to the Towne Center to buy lottery tickets, shoes, and cigarettes. Not just that but I came back bearing gifts (Coffee and Donuts) which, good for me it was; visiting hours were over and I needed to get a visitors pass and entrance unlock so the coffee and donuts sure helped me to manipulate myself back into the hospital without any doctor or security guard questioning just what the hell I was doing. I forgot to mention that I met a really sweet guy named Josh at Tim Horton’s. We talked more than briefly about real life. It was enlightening and we helped each other out. Knowledge and good company. I went back to father’s ward and convinced him his keys to the house to grab my belongings. I promised to bring it back and be on my way. Upon arriving back home I packed up survival gear (mostly tea, cloths and cutlery/toiletries), but I couldn’t find my keys. I called Josh, I called Cale to come over to help me find my keys! I could not find them, for a long time. It turns out that my dad stole them and lied about it for months which deprived me of taking January semester of Junior College seriously because I didn’t have a key for my locker lock, but that’s a different story. So I left with my dad’s key and tried to get the fuck out of there, regardless. I hated every memory and vibe in that house. That same night my mind was all over the place, on the subway I accidentally left my smartphone on the train. I got it back though, thanks to the good peace brothers of the city’s transit system. I was beyond exhausted and needed to crash, so after shedding my hat and jacket, and giving some weed to my street family downtown, I came back home, and slept in a bed. The next day I bought an ounce of dank sativa kush and smoked mad reefer and listened to hip-hop records like Joey Bada$$ and The Underachievers for the next little while. My door was always unlocked and open. This time by myself in peace and shelter I got really fucked up, still a failure, and the rest is history.

THE END

[uchasingxsafetyo]

Perspectives on Generation Z

Whether you accept it or you don't; Sonny Moore Skrillex is responsible for a huge impact on society and today's trends and hipness. I love it, thank you Skrillex for making my life so beautiful. Beautiful people everywhere in my own home town of Edmonton. I see the potential in Generation Z. We are truly something special. Don't spoil it. Do your thing man; proceed. <3

[uchasingxsafetyo]

Insight on Positive & Negative Thinking

       Us as humans endeavor to do what makes us happy. Always. Even if it is to choose to stress or worry or over-think. it is a desire to regain one’s self; in efforts to distress the conscious sorrowing mind.

       For that: I do not think that an individual should ever have to feel bad about the choices that they make; positive or negative, because deep down we all subconsciously understand that for one reason or another there is a logic and meaning to the unstable choices that we make.

       Our actions are the right thing to do. for us, in that moment.

We’re only human. It’s our nature.

My sixth sense urges me to conclude with:

“In common moderation: Try not to ever feel guilty about the actions and decisions  that you’re making if such a decision or action is fundamentally the right thing to do”.

~Peace~

- Geraldo Munroe

[uchasingxsafetyo]

Does anybody else’s brain imagine extremely small and extremely big things?  like extremely big or small writing for example? typically before falling asleep.

[uchasingxsafetyo]

I have realized that my habit of over-thinking comes from liking something. When I like something so much that I briefly give up my mind and time for it, I know that there’s a logical intimate reason for it, & that’s fine; Because it’s good to love things.

Vivid dreams omit away my worries and thoughts of yesterday. The purgatory between yesterday and the new day smell of today. - G. Munroe

[uchasingxsafetyo]

The Family Anatomy of Love and Limbs

Some people claim that their hand has a mind of its own; I believe that your brain is in control of an actual endearing family of many partitions that make up your body parts.

Consequently; try to get on my spiritual level for a second and imagine that:

For conventional right handed individuals; Your right hand is a father and your left hand is a mother. One is in charge of dominant duties and the other is a comforting backup for tasks that entail aid in ‘man-power’.

Your left leg is a daughter and your right leg is a son. The two are brother-sister companions with their duties, at the bottom of a family controlled by a God.

Your mind is the god-like ruler of your nation of body parts. Go ahead, feel proud.

Father-hand and Brother-leg endure a lot of comfortless neglect overpowered by dominant leadership. Though sister-leg can be helpful to lean on for comfort when chosen to, Beother-leg is first-draft in the cut for weight support.

Look in the mirror, you’re bound to soon notice:

That the sides of your face are also members of the family. Like the examples above, your have sister-left and brother-right.

The left side of the face expresses true emotions and honesty. A curious and inviting unlocked left eye, accompanied by a wide and loving smile.

The right side of the face expresses intelligence and reasoning. Right-side a lot more insightful on ideology, questioning situations and existence.

Right eye is exposed to a lot of what is reality as we know it; in turn right eye grows very tired easily and must be dimmed a little shut to nurse his ever-straining unforgiving retina.

Your right eye will rarely be more open than your left eye;

With the exception of in moments of awe and exhilaration. That’s when right eye will give the world his trust,

But sister left eye will surely be just as open if not wider in gape due to her crave of eternal bliss and understanding of life’s purpose to he happy.

& There you have it! The human anatomy family. The next time you put your limbs to work, consider the family and try to make their lives easier, because; Accountably, you are the god of your own little world.

And don’t blame God when things in your life turn sour, Because nobody said it would be easy in this world, even for the Gods.

If this touched your heart the surely don't forget;

That:

You and your brain are in control, of your nerves and body parts!

So take control, and don't worry about taking care of your body, you're still young!

Just continue to take care of your mind and your thoughts.

[uchasingxsafetyo]

Hipsters, Zombies, & Pop Culture

The world; People are becoming more and more cosmetic. It makes me sick… it makes me sad. The cult of pop culture. kardashians, jersey smores, big fat sounds and Electropop. Faux! Everything is fake and cosmetic for these children; Augmented reality and the internet. Bass drop builds of temporary ape shit, Followed by a come down from the novelty’s fad. A lack of modreration, is the pop music of today. The bass drop is the worst thing to happen to techno. Popularized by aspirers aiming for success. Music today makes me anxious for what’s to come. Years down the road; not after the cliché Brostep breakdowns. Though as the history shows, the circle of life is comparable to the revolving door or music. A metaphor in which implies that styles and fads repeat. Something “new” will come and trend, and the elders will lay back and snicker. Nothing is modern. Skinny jeans, ecstasy, drainpipes and Afros. High tops and lesbian head shaves have all been done before. MTV and Much Music make me cringe! Females appear as Robots, & Males trail close behind in the race to cosmetic faggotry. Remember Much on Demand? MOD? Early 2000s? I remember getting home from elementary school at 4 o’clock to specifically catch that show. It wasn’t the best show, but it was REAL! Real people, Real Guest Musicians, Real role models that you could be proud of. Needless to also mention a real studio audience filled with ambitious die-hard fans with real potential and aspiration to hopefully learn a little something from their conceptual mentors on the short lived 30 minute program, Much on Demand. But inspiring influences obviously dont sell, Enough. Cexcells. Unfortunately. Now look, at Today’s role models and ‘leaders’… Egotistic Maniacs!  Its trendy to be a faggot. It is trendy to be weak.. blind..and okay with that. It is trendy to live a life of glamour and fame with the mere scraps that you possess, because your status is everything! Especially in this culture of “In-Your-Face” subliminal influencing. One would rather feed their Ego than to feed their starving belly. You’ve GOT to lose more weight anyways right? High-Definition programming & The internet in your pocket. As long as you’ve got your iPhone in your person: 2 Gold Stars for status! Better look cosmetically reasonable because those Facebook pictures portray your undivided Entire Life! “My TV ain’t HD that’s Too Real!” - Frank Ocean. Who needs a job and a home anyways? There’s free Wi-Fi and power outlets at McDonald’s! Right? :D What scares me the most is that, augmented&virtual reality is so majestic that it can definitely replace a rich&authentic reality…it already has, and the youth are loving it. (Intermission) - MGMT - “The Youth” - Great listen, an eye-opening serenade. Cosmetic Appearances and Shunned Character. That’s Our Reality. It’s our culture, We wanted it. We got it. Now we live in it. All of Us, we affiliate with it in one way or another. Whether we accept it or not. It surrounds us, encourages us, misleads us. Pop “Culture” allures, seduces, persuades, and surrounds us. …We are engulfed in the melting pot of the “All-Access, I.D. fresh, new and “legal Age” of the °Twenty-First Century°. -A truly fine product of many decades of encouraged destructive and careless °try-hard° behavior. i.e. our ‘Current’ modern definition of western culture; For better or for worse…. 2012 truly did change the world as we know it. Think about that for a minute. All in the name of our leaders of course!; I am truly scared and anxious for our following generation and the one after next. We as a nation have sold our souls.

Gramps is right when he says: were all a bunch of typical fucking Canadians.

the end is here.

What is your definition of Western Culture and Canadian Nationalism?

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