Colony of Losers- Fuck Stigma and Mental Illness, I'm like 25

Surviving your Quarter Life Crisis and becoming an adult

How dope can you get

Posted on | September 15, 2015 | No Comments

How dope can you get

Ask the junkie as he lights the jets that let him lucid dream

Lucy in the sky with diamonds on the soles of her feet

Dancing to the beat of I am leaving on a jet plane

Don’t know when I’ll be back again, baby I hate to go

But papa’s a soul man

He doesn’t make music he’s just a fan,

been so since the first rythm ruined his life

He has an excellent record collection and a life he sometimes recollects at night

In his arm he feels the blues bite

The needle buries its steel teeth in wax and asks him again with respect

How dope can you get

Baby it’s true

Miles Davis used his bitches brew, playing broken fingers of God and the smile of you know who,

while on the heroin nod, little light he let shine,

Chet Baker had his own funny little Valentine

Kurt played unplugged, Nirvana unstuck in time, plugged into the machines that separates his skin at the seams

With a chokehold on inspiration, crack and weed make Rakim’s eyes bleed and there comes Cream, Wu Tang 36 chambers of Shaolin,

Old Dirty Bastard howling

Oh baby I like my raw

Along the Watchtowers in multicolored clothes, the world saw Ladies Screamed Death and Hendrix composed

How many highs came out of their lows

Negatives turned positive when the proofs were exposed

Number one hits dilated eyes to slits and blissed out eyes gave way to sold out shows

Dope music let’s you let go, behind the curtain in a frenzy of echoes

What the fuck do you expect

Turning life to poetry when you cannot stand the prose

How dope can you get

Carried by worshippers wearing his crown of shit,

Johnny Cash almost drowned and came out of it

Elvis died a King in Graceland, face a sagging recollection that he used to be handsome

The junkie looks to get outside of his head and ends up barricading himself inside the clutching veins

addicts always live in attics without windowpanes

His burnt fingers can’t play the guitar and his smoked skin, looks like a man who wants to get out, so bad he can’t be let in, a King in a world of flesh lives as a skeleton all of his memories are of trying to forget

45’s in all barrels, hoping to be on their way to 33,unfortunately all devils die early and don’t go to heaven

He’s 45 and he’s never been 27

How dope can you get

The Jester is worshipped,

all jokers stuck in the middle with you in a world that’s all ears In a sea of dead Davincis

So much talent, Jim Morrison becomes GG Allin

Mirages make oases out of salt water,living for future generations, but not living long enough to see his daughter

Papa was a rolling stone but not a father

How dope can you get

In a world without time, he can’t hear the music

The records are skipping, and his heart can’t keep up with his mind

The motors old and the vinyl has watermarks

Slowing down the constant of movement, in a world of sharks

How dope can you get

The response is a needle scratching that no longer makes any music

You can only let life get so far away before you lose it

The junkie dies in a room of records,remorse and regrets

The stacks were against him, and jokers always get taken out of the decks

How dope can you get

The answer was a hundred percent.

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  • About

    Michael Kimber is a 26-year-old journalist who suffered a nervous breakdown on November 3rd, 2009. On March 28th, 2010 when he recovered from mental illness, he began writing a blog called Colony-of-losers. About falling on your face to figure out who you are and the hilarious antics of a blond jew. What began with a few friends and his mother reading has become a cult phenomenon, averaging 10,000 views a week, receiving praise from Commonwealth Award Winner Shandi Mitchell and many others. On, November 3rd, 2010, the one year anniversary of his mental breakdown he signed with Anne McDermid and Associates, the largest literary agency in Canada. In a year he went from wearing pajamas, making his couch depression HQ to leaving his hometown for the Toronto, where he exclusively wears business suits and the armor of ancient Greeks. Don't worry, he's still choking on the feet he contently sticks in his mouth and making moments awkward just by being part of them. During these struggles he met other talented bastards and drew them into his circle. Peter Diamond became his illustrator. Patrick Campbell his video editor and part time photographer. He recently added the incredibly talented John Packman as Colony of Losers Toronto photographer. Without the support of the Colony of Losers, Michael Kimber would be nothing. Welcome to the losers and the success that comes from utter and complete failure. You aren’t alone. Follow him on twitter.com/colonyoflosersand twitter.com/quimbo. If you’d like to hire him for a public speaking engagement for mental health events in Toronto, like to arrange an interview, offer millions to publish his book or for another reason contact Michael please email him. And join his facebook Colony of Losers.

    Really obvious disclaimer:
    I’m not a trained psychologist. Just a fellow traveler. If you need help seek it from the professionals. The Canadian Mental Health Association provides a help locator. You can find crisis resources provided by the Canadian Association for Suicide Prevention. If you are in the states check here. It will give you services by zip code. I’d also recommend checking out Mindyourmind.ca. I think they do great work and have been a help to me personally.

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