Phil Volatile Quotes

We aim to be
men who'll make
our mothers proud,
but we end up
making them cry,
and are only
slightly better
than our fathers,
at best

I used to fear things like not having enough alcohol and drugs, or the money to get them. Now I fear someone holding me down and physically forcing me to take drugs and drink alcohol. I fear that for some reason I wouldn't be allowed or wouldn't be able to read anymore.

America - where we hate our
fathers, love our mothers, and
everyone is hung up on trying
to be a man

You never really
know about the
people who
daydream of
killing you.

But now that I'm scrubbing
toilets on my hands & knees,
with four degrees,
I realize that one escape route
leads to another

Truly, there are no justified ways to how a mule tramples the earth, but who would be burdened to hear such an obscurity? We do not gaze upon stars to appertain affection towards them, rather to sooth our contempt fallacy of an ill-placed apprehension of them. Who concern themselves with anything if not genuine in their convictions? Delusions? I am flattered no less.

He was tired
of being called
a fag and teased
for his sexuality
by one of the guards,
so he tried to hang
himself, twice

The kid got a little
closer the second
time, but I won't be
around to see a
third

Love, is a Bloody Razor Blade
Love came like fire from above
and disappeared like a wet dream,
underneath a leaky kitchen sink
For weeks it went drip, drip, drip ...
until it could be, eventually fixed
It took a long time to depreciate
all the things I never had to say
But there are only so many things
that make sense at the end
The rest is merely X-Acto knife love, and
Love, is a bloody razor blade

We had scar-tissue
romance and ours was
a relationship of saying
goodbye - every time
we fought, every time
we fucked, and every time
we called it quits, before
picking up our knives
again

to live a
substance-free
life under the
pressures of
the daily grind
is state-sponsored
suicide

and tonight we held each
other, one last time,
like a dance to a
slow song
on an empty
floor,
underneath a single
disco ball
in front of
no one
at all

I can remember when
delusions of grandeur
entailed wanting to
be a rock star, movie star,
a millionaire; to make it
as a writer
now it seems that it's
to want to earn a
decent living

I'm in love with my corporate girlfriend,
with the Cyclops heart

Some people are hard to forget, but some people are hard to remember.

I've looked at so
much porn that
every woman I meet
looks vaguely
familiar

It's sad
that burnt marshmallows
make me think of
methamphetamine,
when they
should bring
back childhood
memories of
s'mores

I'm breaking
down
and I've
got so
little time
to
do it

And these are the same
type of people who kill
the innocent and
justify it by saying
"They've gone to be
with Jesus now"
But we won't talk
about how they
crucified Him, too

Maybe someday I can find the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, but will lack the strength to lift it anymore. Then, I will think to empty the coin from the pot, but will lack the genius to carry out the said act. Later, I will be approached by someone who will ask me about the story of the pot of gold. I will attempt to explain the story to them in the best way that I can.
The person might then ask me, "How much of it was true?" and to them I shall respond with a question.
"How much do you have believed of it to be of truth and be not farce?"
They will ponder over what has been asked of them. They will solemnly look first to the ground, and then to the sky, seeking the divine answer to disarm, or perhaps the answer to their own question. After much time spent rehearsing the question and answer in their head, they will have finally reached the answer.
"Half - half of it I believe were true." They will say to me with complete confidence, and then that confidence will subside assertively into a question. Feeling flustered and unsure of themselves, with their face representing melting wax, they will again look to me for an answer.
"Half of it was true then," I will reply to them with my assertiveness.
Puzzled and dumbfounded, the person will ask me, "How was half of it true then?"
I will reply to this person in a sincere attempt to gain their confidence and instill wisdom in them.
"I cannot tell you what is right or wrong, only what

Too many codeine pills,
Too many nights of cold chills
Too many weak-handed deals
Too many lives, the addict steals

We should've
thrown fucking riots
the first time they
had us ring up
and bag our own
groceries

Adios

Her pretty picture
lying on the
ground was like
the toppling
of some
fascist
regime
And burning
the photograph,
was the
celebration

I pawned the remote to my misery,
trading it in for liquor that was cheap;
screwdrivers for my vitamin c,
and a little bloodstream to my IV,
helping to soothe my lunacy

When I think about the past and how blind I was in that life, I compare it to being a god and losing everything when being cast out. I had the unlimited power to destroy myself and everything around me. It's like having been in a cave for years and I'm finally out of the cave. The sun burns my eyes and skin. I don't recognize my surroundings. No one looks authentic, and now I'm on the hunt for people that have the pieces to my puzzle that will help me on my quest. I have no cave to hide in, and I'm just left with the sediment of a previous life and my own mortality.

I'm the new age miner,
going to work at the company's
gold mines, where they charge me
for the pick axe

But there's a million of these
towns that are like factories,
breeding hate and fear that only
the fortunate will never meet
And these zoomed up
kids die like saints, for
someone else's
dollar

Two kinds of
people will love you:
those who confess
it, and those who
show you, like
cards on a table,
because love is
a gamble

Truly, the better a person you are, or become, the harder life becomes. No longer are you omnipotent, but are made flaccid. You are exposed to the horrors of the world. I decree that it is harder to live than to die, but sacred are the few whom have chosen to live. The uneducated man possesses the aptitude to destroy his surroundings. It isn't until you are educated in both realms that you stop living for yourself. We must wear the hearts of our opponents on our sleeves in order to be worthy of the pride we wear on our shoulders. Victories against other flesh are only victories when not worn as trophies. Always remember - the futility of man is only surpassed by its greatness.