Annoyed For No Good Reason

Okay, so I'm weirdly depressed. Maybe I can figure this all out in one blog post. I'm somewhat annoyed at the fact that I don't really have anything I want to eat in the house. I went shopping twice this week and I'm still not happy. I want hot chocolate right now but I don't have any. I could drink coffee but it's not the same, now is it? I'm cold for no good reason. I'm under a blanket in my room cold. That pisses me off. I wanted crackers but I didn't buy any. My Mom had to buy Ritz from Big Lots to save a dollar. Those shits are stale as hell and that pisses me off. I just feel so unsatisfied right now. I want to snack on something. I have pasta I made yesterday. Ravioli with four cheeses. It was good. But it's not what I want. Dude, I got a lot of First World Problems. But they really are annoying to me. Everything is just getting on my nerves right now. Dang I wish I had some hot chocolate. I am not going back to the grocery store right now. But man, what a bummer. This blog post is making me feel worst. I can't figure out what is in my vibration that is making feel so funky. And is that my throat trying to hurt, or is that a stale ass cracker in there? I wonder if tea will make me feel better. Know this blogerspher. I am just not happy right now. I think I should just turn off my music. Memory Tapes if anyone is asking. And just watch some tv. I may be too much in my head. This blog post was pointless. But...maybe they all all. Fucking mind. I need to go watch Star Wars in 3D but I'm far too lazy for that now. Also my Mom's nurse is here. I can't believe my Mom has a nurse, what kind of life am I'm living? Having elderly parents is like the most depressing thing ever. You just somehow think your parents are going to live healthy and happy forever. It's just a real bummer to think my Mom has a in-home nurse now. And it's me part time, which is even more bizarre than the stranger currently in my living room. I need a vacation. I've been on two in town staycations in two months. They help but I need to go further and for a longer period of time. My life is overwhelming and I don't even have space in my brain to complain about it. I am very unsatisfied right now. So tea which is not hot chocolate and a nice black and white film. Lets see how long I can stand that. The dumbest part about all of this and that it's just PMS. This is just a PMS rant. I wish I was above it. It gets to me every time. Also in the interest of full disclosure I ate two bags or Pop Chips in an hour yesterday.

I am So Pretty...Because I Bought That.

Forced to cover our faces with a products that at one time burned the skin off of rabbits and monkeys.
And for what? A Corporation's standard of beauty. Are we feminine enough for Maybelline? Maybe she's born with it. Or maybe we will make sure she has it. Low self esteem. The ugly factor. Similar to the Max Factor, but with brighter colors. When did they convince us we looked unbearable? I mean we are a nation of men with hair on their faces and women covered in corporate chemicals. To look beautiful. Like a sunset? Like the projects at night? Like a animal caged and tied down to a chair? Let's apply mascara, blush, and a little Whale blubber for your  lips. Lets see how long it takes to bleed through your skin and muscle tissue. Two weeks on an animal, one night on an ugly girl. It was so worth it. Now we can all be as beautiful as an image on the screen, or in a magazine. My head is so lovely. Just like this decapitated one on Vogue. So fucking beautiful, now I make the boys vomit. Can any of us accept how the skin is wrapped around our skeletons? What is make-up? An art form? A torture chamber? Just painted faces? A mask of consumerism? Beauty?  Just fun? Will there ever come a point in human history where it is not designed? A lot of animal testing was put to an end this year? But not the kind they do on little girls and women. We still are lab tested. Sprayed on. Polished. Covered in chemicals you are so fucking beautiful. Especially if you break your nose bone and have it restructured. If you cut your skin and have it pulled a little tighter. Then sewn back up. You may be a little better to see. So much fucking unbearable beauty. Just like in the movies. 


I am Josalisa RiOt. I have been on a diet since 1998, and I am still fat. In my mind, where it really matters. I've stopped wearing make - up again. The animals are here to remind me that this is all a test. No product can make me look better. Fake plastic digital world. Where all the boys are girls, and all the girls get placed inside of corporate sponsored coffins. You are ugly. Our products can help. Accept the fact that to them, we are a bunch of fucking lab rats.  A lot of very beautiful caged monkeys. But one day....there shall be a RiOt.

It Felt Like A Kiss

It's dangerous inside my thighs

It's where most girls hide their pride

I have mine in my eyes

It's dark inside my heart

I keep all the monsters there

Coarse like hair

While being chocked I struggle for air

It's hard inside his legs

The pain comes from the spread

The separation to from the things I touch

It's a smile space

To stretch to lick to touch

It's rough beside his hands

It's nice to be constrained 

The sting of my arm bands

It's burns across my back

Like a warm fire in my soul

I'll die before I'm old

It's warm inside my eye

Swollen from being poked numerous times

It hurts in the places they touch

They make me whimper and scream

Leaving traces as they stroke

Like prints on a screen

I cry because I want more

The metal feels like heaven

Things that pain you make me purr

It's late when I lay beside them

Reaching for his hand in the darkness

Changing shapes and then returning to my natural form

To take the shape of the other one

A deadly element

Josalisa's poetic lament.

A RiOt for the Sadomasochist.

I Have No Information

Dark on the inside

Heavy on the out

This is my landslide

I see inside of you

Stars on the the inside

Magic on the outside

Vibrating creation

I'll conquer over you

Calm on the inside 

Pain on the outside

I dream riddles at night

By day I solve them for you

Tragic on the inside

Dying on the outside

This is my blanket

A cloud over you

Moving on the inside

Steal on the outside

Words are my insight

Girl on the inside

RiOt on the outside

I eat less everyday

I replaced violence with food

Pain on the inside 

Pain on the outside

This is my landslide

The music's the truth

This is my insight 

This is my insight

Breathing Life Into My Death

All that is holy now 

All that is love see me 

All that is free join me

                                    I am that which never ends                                                              

All that is spirit seek me

All that is fortitude is planted in me

I am the living planet

All that is beauty breath with me

All that is patience move with me

All that is heart understand me

I am dignity come dance with me

All that is connected work with me

All that is rightoussness smile with me

All that is joy come into me

I am true love here for eternity

All that is knowledge free me

All that is consciousnesses feel me

I am death please come join me

All that's darkness know me

All that's light come into me

All that's brave shield me

I am gentle fragile as glass

All that is simple shall pass

All that is lost has not gone

All that I am is here today

I am the entity here for the singularity

All that is mathematics is within

All that is metal is alive

I am sand forming footprints until I close my eyes.

I am the Real Lady Die.

Only that which I see can touch me.

Only that which I think can form me.

I am that which is living and dying

I am heaven and hell

Can't you tell

This is the madness of Josalisa and this is a spiritual RiOt

A Splash Into The Deep

I had a dream that I understood everything, accepted everyone, and was very happy. It's hard to live in the present but it's the only way. Otherwise we are teetered to a dead past or tripping over the future as it rushes past. This requires some kind of clear Buddhist mind. I don't have one of those, I just have the map that I've been using all these years. The one I use to manipulate time and space. It's strange how things can feel unbearable then you remember all that doesn't matter. It's all anti-matter being projected by a hologram. The course of my life relies on what I desire. That's the game, making sure your thoughts are your on and not some pollution put in there by outside forces. What's really important to me besides the love is the seeing it all. I feel like I need to understand things more but I understand things are very basic. It's hard not to see it all as some kind of strange experiment. My desires are so basic to me. Create the universe that lies within my heart through art. My only other desire is to leave this God awful city to see the world. No one should be stuck in the same place for this many years. It's ridiculous. I need to see something that inspires me to the core. That thing is not in this city at this time. The adventure of my life needs to begin soon. So universe, here's to meeting me half way and bringing me to that road. I'm tired of not being able to get lost. How can one get lost in a place that is as familiar as the back of her hand? Los Angeles has become groundhog day to me. If I had any kind of ovaries I would just pack up and go right this minute. Take my meager life savings and say goodbye to these people I've gathered around me. Say goodbye to this city I was born in and have never left. I'll make it happen soon. I need to get lost in a crowd where no one's ever seen me. In L.A. it's like every face is just part of the same old story. Every piece of the land scape is breathing the same desire. The frequencies are starting to no longer match. Some will tell you magic works anywhere and it pretty much does. I need to change the vibrational frequency I am on. Paris, Madrid, Manchester, Dijibouti. Could you be speaking to me? Morocco has those mountains the Jajouka live in. I wonder how the echo really sounds in one of them? So many questions. I'm writting these mad things down so I can do them in the near future. I hate to feel bored. I guess I am not bored, I am just uninspired. Things get created everyday, but really like this city I've seen them all before. I need to be inspired to make new worlds within. I need new concepts in my life. I have a desire to have my mind blown by great amounts of beauty. Just simple ideas I can't even imagine right now. So I need to get going soon. One should never have to stay in a place where it is virtually impossible to get lost. Some humans on this planet today can't even dream of such a concept. On a lighter note my computer crashed yesterday and I lost all of my pictures again. It doesn't bother me because I blogged most of them so no loss really. What is ever really lost? Our hearts to strangers, our loved ones to the heavens? When I lose things I get freaked out but, then I am thankful for the reminder that I have to still learn to let things go. As a human in my mind I hold on to things too often and for too long. One should never make the unimportant that which is crucial. I do it all of the time. But it's a waste. Things, like lives come and go. Sand through our fingers and all that. So here I am on a new computer still rambling about that which wakes me in the earliest part of the day. Wondering how I will get to the other side of the world from here? Wondering how my words and music will touched the souls of the like minds? Wondering if my thoughts are all but lost in time and space. Still feeling quite alien here among the humans. I've never been wild, I've always been part of the unnatural. Part of the unbelievable. This life I desire like the one I lead is impossible to achieve but, it's all happening anyway. Isn't that how it always is? We know these things are impossible but they have to happen anyway. Without the impossible where would we all be? It's strange what people desire or how we choose to live. In lust with stranger after stranger. To me that is like masturbation with a partner. In love with the lies we tell ourselves. That is like a sickness or trying to hide in a mirror. In love with the hate we project. That is like being some sort of emotional criminal. I'm in love with a dying Space Program. That is like watching old Sci-Fi reruns. What I really love is this life as a writer. This strange life in a little room with too may thoughts and not enough space for my paintings. This is what I really love. This life as an artist. Which has been at times overwhelming with both joy and great disappointment. But I still love it. Because my people are all over this planet. Alone like me in little rooms writing down their desires, drawing their worlds that we hope to visit. I can feel them now. The new Kafkas. Only this time we will get it right. We won't have to wait for death to say it. The bizarre corners of our minds are alive with color and dreams that we live everyday. The writers. What a mad breed we all are. Let me also just say something here, something I rarely say. Thank God for my Guru out there showing me the world. Looking at it though eyes much like my own. You make it all seem so close at hand. Without you I would still be afraid to be this person I have become. I would still be holding on to the sand that long ago rushed to the ground. The things I though I could never be, I am now. I am no longer afraid to be what I want to. I will never again rush in with my eyes closed. I will understand that it is all my desire and my desire is all that I see. I will contemplate the life adventure I want to undertake more. But for what? It has been said. Now the hard work of having patience with myself and my dreams begins. What kind of woman am I? Just like all the others I guess. They seem so far away from me. But it's I who have traveled so far now. Mind On Far Out. .................................................................................................. Heart on my sleeve/ mind on my dreams/ eyes on my hands/ can I create a place as real as I imagine/ mortal man says it can never happen/ so I use magic to make things from the ether/ I'm not the desperate other the way too eager/ I live for today yesterday is for the anthropologist old bones for the archaeologist/ tomorrow belongs to the scientist/ the creators...well all we have in this life is a gift and it's all but used up now/ I am a frowning clown the court jester/ dancing fully glowing beautifully beneath a shinning moon/ of the land of animal and man some have been set free/ those I hold in my heart with me/ I am the last of the dying madmen/ I am the last of a dying breed/ Hopefully the human race will be the last to see me/ when I go I will not be turning back to this city of dreams by the sea/ I'm drowning in a rickety kayak made of the finest poetic misery ...................................................................................................................... I am Josalisa and this is my heart in a RiOt

The Paranoia Hits Code Red

This is what happens when the paranoia hits Code: Red. When the institutional training lines up and we finally realized what we wanted all along wasn't the sex the drugs or the rock and roll. But freedom from this society. It's a prison. A mental and physical prison. I've been rattled awake from deep REM sleep state to manipulate the CPU chip. The message is this: We are living in a prison. It feels like there is no escape, because that is what a prison is. But there is a escape. It has to do with remembering the training. When it started, how it first felt, what is it's purpose, what is your position in the web? I feel like my programming has never been complete. At my earliest stages of training (at least as I remember) I began to see the manipulation. The programmers are the programmed, so they aren't that smart. At age 4 (I believe ) is when they began to go at me. With the brain manipulation stick. Sit here, eat this, play with this, dress like this, you're a this. I never liked any of it. I've always wanted to eat, sleep, meet, and dress like I dreamed. The programming became clear. I think that is where it fucked up. The most important part of this whole society racket is that you are not supposed to know you are trained for it. Like once you see the wires, or the babies in the bio-feed giving life to the machines. There is no turning back. So the fact that I was being programmed was clear to me from an early age. At that point I knew I had to escape my fate as a robot. I didn't want to become one of them. So I began the isolation. You know in order to observe the general set up. It began to look like . Government was on top, they issued most of the food and they ran the institution. I wasn't sure how many, but everyone I could see was in on it. The kids my age for sure, the older ones seemed like Zombies to me, so I figured the training was gradual. The adults were a mystery so I gave up on them. To concentrate on art and literature. Maybe I could find some allies. The kids in my neighborhood looked all but hopeless. Maybe not the immigrants, they have messy yards. A sure sign of the non-patriotic kind of freedom I was looking for. I started investigating the immigrants. It was clear pretty quick that the immigrants were not in on the whole brainwash racket. But they had another racket going, Religion. And I liked it. It was like the story of the Frankenstein Monster. But real. It had all of the elements of of a good horror story. There was magic, death , destruction, fire, famine, an underdog Hero, who secretly came from Royalty. It was better than the movies, it was Broadway. And best of all it was playing every Sunday in a theater near me, called church. I had to see it live. At a young age 5 yrs old, I found out about what I considered at the time to be the most awesome bad-ass magic ever. It only happened to people who truly believed in the miracle of church: Stigmata. Holy fuck, stigmata looked freaking amazing. I mean bleeding hands and chest. The replication of the wombs of Christ. This was not part of the training and I wanted it. I saw pictures of Stigmata and it looked really fucking amazing, blood and lots of it. But not only that people were really into it. My only questions were could one's eyes bleed and could it happen to me? I had to go to church. People were bleeding all over the place and better yet they were eating a body (it was the body of Christ) and I had to see it. As you can imagine once I got to church there was no stigmata outside of the picture of Jesus on the Cross. And Jesus was white, like the fucking Mailman. This dude could not be God because he is made in my image and the nigga looked like the Ice Cream Truck Man. Fail. Religion is part of the programming. Momma take me home! Now what? Once you find an escape from the programming and it's quickly made clear that was just more programming. You begin to become a conscious observer. Knowing any move can be part of the programming. I started reading more. I needed those allies. In the children's library I had access to, my information was limited to say the least. It appeared my only ally was a white chick named Cinderella. So I begin the Disney Programming (but on myself). It was very interesting and I am all but free from that now. Not entirely free. How long does it take a girl to awake from self inflicted Disney Programming? As far as I know I am still asleep even now in the Satanic arms of old Walt. I still watch Once Upon A Time on the Disney Channel ABC. So it's still very much part of me. So what has Disney Programming taught me? Sex is fun, boys are brave, strong, smart, and fun, being pretty is important and special, my Mother is my enemy (too often), dresses are an option, I am special, mobilization is real. I only half believe any of that. But it's the half that I am worried about. So as you can see we are all in a cell. My cell is sponsored by a corporation. Lucas Films had always been a major part of my life. It was my escape route from Disney Princess to boyish Disney Jedi. There really is limited escape once you see what programming you have. But isn't knowing half the battle? Probably not. So what's the point, Monarch? How do I become a real butterfly (that's Monarch Programming non-self inflicted) with metal wings and get way from this whole punked up Disney Princess vibe I'm on. Even punk hair is DP Programming. See the DP's give us unrealistic ideas about what hair really is. A pink spiked mohawk is perfectly acceptable in this twisted reality. Because for years you see nothing but multicolored haired women interacting with one another and the supernatural. Anyhow I don't have an answer here. Real freedom comes from within the mind. But how do you know if the mind is really free? Or if the Freedom is part of the programming. Kind of like the Anonymous movement. Programmed dissension, corporate sponsored rebellion. Madness ia really the only answer here. But that is the Monarch Programming I received from Alice In Wonderland. The madness, the matrix, the questioning of reality, the dreaming in the waking state, the mulitverse. It's all Alice. It's all in the details. The only thing real is mathematics. The only true freedom is understanding. This is my mind. There is no escaping here. And it has corporate sponsorship. Lifelong apparently. Until I get to the mountains were I can go good and crazy then I will write the good stuff. Just like Spider taught me. A girl with a typewriter in a log cabin. You know I really feel free from all of this when I am having sex. Group sex is even better. Getting my mind wrapped around the general vortex without all of the programming. But I need a more permanent means of escape. Beside all of the Science, or the Science Fiction which is a another really good means of escape. You just turn the whole thing upside down and look at it through a mirror. That's when you can clearly see the lifelong programming in action. But one can not live off of Science alone. So here's to another blog entry that does nothing more than ask questions. Who are we, why are we here, and what sort of programmer am I? The Dark Sci-Fi kind of course. My name is Josalisa and this is definitely a digital RiOt.