Entry Submitted by Heisenberg at 8:28 PM EDT on September 29, 2020
Once in a lifetime, the suffering of fools
To find our way home, to break in these palms
Once in a lifetime (Once in a lifetime)
Once in a lifetime
Once in a lifetime, the breaking of the roof
To find that our home, has long been out grown
Draw me a life line, 'cause honey I got nothing to lose
Once in a lifetime (Once in a lifetime)
Once in a lifetime – Shot at the Night
I cried to my daddy on the telephone,
How long now?
Until clouds unroll and you come home,
The line went
But the shadows still remain since your descent,
Your descent – The Saints Are Coming
Risin' up, back on the street
Did my time, took my chances
Went the distance now I'm back on my feet
Just a man and his will to survive
So many times it happens too fast
You trade your passion for glory
Don't lose your grip on the dreams of the past
You must fight just to keep them alive
It's the eye of the tiger, it's the thrill of the fight
Risin' up to the challenge of our rival
And the last known survivor stalks his prey in the night
And he's watchin' us all with the eye of the tiger - Survivor
Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle. Be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil; May God rebuke him, we humbly pray; And do thou, O Prince of the Heavenly Host, by the power of God, thrust into hell Satan and all evil spirits who wander through the world for the ruin of souls. Halleluiah – Prayer of Saint Michael
And that brings us to tonight’s word: SHOT AT THE NIGHT
Once upon a time… in a galaxy far far away… there lived a simple kind of man… a farmer. Content to sow the seeds of the earth and raise animals to feed the village. He never thought much of doing anything else. It was rewarding work. It was God’s work. It satisfied his soul. Early to bed and early to rise. Makes a man healthy wealthy and wise. The evils of the illuminatzi were a million miles away. Kary Perry on Sesame street was a city boys wet dream. Lady Gaga was merely radio gaga on an AM transistor tucked in the corner of the tractor cock pit. Big outside dinners with family and friends. It was a good life.
One day he woke up and discovered he wanted to fight. To be a fighter. To lay down his sickle and pick up his dukes. We may never know why he chose to change paths so late in life. Was it the injustice he witnessed while in town to pick up a carbonator? Noticing the leaders in town were merely false prophets lining their pockets while the town dried up? And it’s people went hungry? Judas sheep leading his neighbors farms into foreclosure? Was it not lonely hookers were showing up on main street, but that the girls were getting younger and younger? Was it not only farms were going back to the banks, but auto plants were headed down Mexico way as well? Was it that a Planned Parenthood ribbon cutting was coming to Smallville? Teenagers were becoming Percocet junkies? And for some reason the age of consent was going down as the price of condoms were going up? Was it that from the seclusion of his farm he never really saw the 1 degree increases in the boiling water but when visiting family in town, it was as clear as day? 500 channels of shit on the TV to choose from? Or maybe it was none of that at all. Maybe it was the voices in his head. Singing Gloria. Calling him to fight for whatever reason heaven will allow. A spirits calling who works in mysterious ways? The why of this simple mans’ story… is never told. Though we pay the storyteller oft in gold. But never will he tell as he cannot be bought nor sold.
Our protagonist as it turns out is not a bad little fighter. Not a great little fighter either. But what’s he got is a bit of heart combined with a dap of stupidity and a schmeckle of fearlessness. A dangerous cocktail indeed. And that’s not easily cloned. With a little technique, he might actually win a fight or two. He puts in the time. Hits the bag every minute of every day. Doesn’t mind getting in the ring with the biggest palooka on the block. Raw eggs at 4 am. More like scrambled at 9 am with a shot of tobacco but that’s besides the point. Our hero seems to have a thing for Sylvester Stallone. But I digress. Forget about it.
The time comes in this fighters early career where he gets noticed around the gym. There’s this up and comer hitting the speed bag you gotta see. The kid came out now where. So, in comes a promoter. A manager. Says kid… you can’t make your own. You need someone like me and my red shoes to open those doors to the big fights for you. You want a shot at the title someday, I’m the man to get you there. All you gotta do is play a little ball. Throw a little fight here and there and you’ll make friends in high places. And they’ll keep you high. Buy your pretty little girl a new dress. You just gotta sign right here. Just bit of your blood serves nicely as ink. In fact, I’ll get you a healthy wad o cash… some walk around money as a signing bonus. Just a few beads to tide you over till your next fight. Just remember… when we say jump, you say how high? When we say sing, you say what octave? And when we say dive, you say how deep? And if we say join the 27 club… no tears. Got it?
Don’t you let that deal go down….
Afterwards, in walks another promoter. Another manager looking for the next featherweight champion of the world. Says kid… my name’s Michael. How do you do? I saw your last fight. To say you’re rough around the edge, would be a compliment. Have you thought about a career in cleaning bedpans? No? Ok here’s the deal. You’ve taken it about as far as you can. That’s actually good news. If the devil wants to make a deal with you, you’re a threat to her and her red shoes. Now I can’t guarantee you will win every fight. I can’t be there late at night to hold you hand when the demons visit with their fear and doubt. Those are your fights to fight. But I will be there if they try to crush those sweet keyboard hands in a dark alley. You’ll be safe and sound. Safe and sound. You’ll have all the gym time you need. 24/7. You have a fighting style no ones seen before and it’ll take you far. But if you want to go all the way, my team can help you put a few more surprises into your bat belt. Have you thought of making your own GIFs? Just a thought. You’ll have all the inspiration and resources to take it to the championship ring… if you want it, that is. There will be no one in your way but you. You… will be your greatest enemy. You have the talent to go all the way… the question is as it’s always been to man throughout all of time… how bad to you want it? This God given spark and talent your perverse generation seems to love to waste on a 3D matrix… how much do you want to win?
Cause you had the talent to become a good fighter and instead of that you became a leg breaker for some cheap second rate loan shark…
You will learn to get out of your own way with the proper training. Ego. Pshaw. Left side brain lizard thinking? Forget about it. Honey pots? Definitely forget about it. Once you realize you are the only thing in your way… you will be unstoppable. Much like humanity will be unstoppable once they discover this secret. But hey, one step at a time. Getting all of humanity to wake up at once is like eating an elephant with one bite. It’s exhausting and it’ll only make you sick.
So kid… you say you wanna shot at the night? You wanna a little payback? A little even St. Stephen? I’ll give you your shot. And the good news? I won’t make you take dive, Johnny. Your victories will be yours. The harder you fight… the longer you train… the greater you study your craft and the ways of Sun Tzu… every chalk in the win column will be yours. Just as every hateful loss will be yours to own as well. Maybe I can’t offer you what the devil can offer. You won’t have to work as hard. Your opponent will either go down in the 3rd or you will. That’s what she said. You’ll have limo service. You’ll just show up and dance for the cameras. You’ll be a puppet on a string. Or a monkey in a circus. You’ll hardly break a sweat with her deal. And not sure if you read the fine print in that contract or not, but if the devil says it’s time to die… it’s time to die.
What I can put in writing is if you got the heart and soul to plow thru every opponent in that ring, I can guarantee you, you’ll have that shot. But there’s no signing bonus. There’s no baby lobster dinner or some 12 year old girl waiting in the jungle room somewhere. There’s no 2021 Escalade with your name on it. Just safe passage into the ring and out of it. And maybe a couple pointers along the way. Keep that left up. Don’t engage that shill. No matter how tarded his stick figure cartoons are. And for Christs sake… put down that Guinness.
And that my dear readers is where the story ends. You decide if he was wise or foolish. If he took the easy or hard way out. You decide if he sold his soul for a little creature comfort. Still waiting for the day for his shot at the title only to be told to take a dive in the 9th. Or did our fighter decide to go his own way? With nothing but the sweat on his palms and the ringing in his ears? Praying someday for that title bout knowing win or lose, it’s always been his fight to win or lose. And on that fine day he meets his maker… the satisfaction of knowing he was never under control of any man or fallen angel.
So you wanna be a boxer eh? You wanna live for the next fight? Wanna get in the ring with a gorilla who wants to put you six feet under ground? It’s not for everyone as we are discovering. Millennials are falling like flies. Karens drowning in their own tears. Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be fighters. But if you hear the calling… the clarion call to pick up a deadly keyboard… to rage, rage against the dying of a light. To rage against the lowering of the age of consent. To rage against ripping babies from their mothers tummies for a vampires brunch… then follow your heart. It will never lead you astray. Except for that one. That one. Awkward….
If you must enter the ring and there’s no talking you down from the acrobats wire where you find yourself caught between the devil and the deep blue sea… may I suggest? Your first stop is Arch Angel Michaels Gym and Boxeria? Over on 11th Avenue and Levitate St. next to the Brooklyn bridge. Just follow the smell of sweaty jock straps and leather speed bags. Tell em Heis sent you. He might even let you in on how the story ends.
And that’s the word
Heisenberg
Love Is Bigger Than Anything In Its Way (U2 x Cheat Codes)
Crazy Baldhead
SHOT AT THE NIGHT
Midnight Rider
St. Stephen (Winterland 12/31/78)
Sing Your Life
Love is Bigger Than Anything In Its Way (Beck Remix)
Can't You See
Ray Of Light
My Own Soul’s Warning
Badlands
Devil's Hot Rod
Lotte Lenya in Alabama Song
Age of Consent
Amy
No More Tears
Till Your Well Runs Dry
I've Got You Under My Skin Louis Prima
Spaceman live TRNSMT 2018
Safe From Harm
Safe And Sound
Who's That Guy
The Man (Bonnaroo)
Levitate
Ghosts
Love Is Bigger Than Anything In Its Way (Live from Mohegan Sun, 3 July 2018)
Gloria
Landlady
Roam, the phone is where I live til I get home
And when the doorbell rings you tell me that I have a key
I ask you, how you know it's me
The road, no road without a turn and if there was
The road would be too long
What keeps us standing in this view
Is the view that we can be brand new
The landlady takes me up in the air
I go, I go where I would not dare
Landlady shows me the stars up there
I'm weightless, weightless when she is there
And I'll never know, never know what starving poets meant
Cause when I was broke, it was you that always paid the rent
Space, her place is where I found my parking space
And when I'm losing ground, you know she gives it back to me
She whispers "don't do, just be"
The landlady takes me up in the air
I go, I go where I would not dare
Landlady shows me the stars up there
I'm weightless, weightless when she is there
And I'll never know, never know what starving poets meant
Cause when I was broke, it was you that always paid the rent
Every wave that broke me
Every song that wrote me
Every dawn that woke me
Was to get me home to you, see
Every soul that left me
Every heart that kept me
The strangers that protected me
To bring me back to you
Every magic potion
Every false emotion
How unswerving our devotion
To the lies we know are almost true
Every sweet confusion
Every grand illusion
I will win and call it losing
If the prize is not for you
______________________________________________________
If you wish to contact the author of any reader submitted guest post, you can give us an email at UniversalOm432Hz@gmail.com and we'll forward your request to the author.
______________________________________________________
All articles, videos, and images posted on Dinar Chronicles were submitted by readers and/or handpicked by the site itself for informational and/or entertainment purposes.
Dinar Chronicles is not a registered investment adviser, broker dealer, banker or currency dealer and as such, no information on the website should be construed as investment advice. We do not support, represent or guarantee the completeness, truthfulness, accuracy, or reliability of any content or communications posted on this site. Information posted on this site may or may not be fictitious. We do not intend to and are not providing financial, legal, tax, political or any other advice to readers of this website.
Copyright © 2020 Dinar Chronicles
Once in a lifetime, the suffering of fools
To find our way home, to break in these palms
Once in a lifetime (Once in a lifetime)
Once in a lifetime
Once in a lifetime, the breaking of the roof
To find that our home, has long been out grown
Draw me a life line, 'cause honey I got nothing to lose
Once in a lifetime (Once in a lifetime)
Once in a lifetime – Shot at the Night
I cried to my daddy on the telephone,
How long now?
Until clouds unroll and you come home,
The line went
But the shadows still remain since your descent,
Your descent – The Saints Are Coming
Risin' up, back on the street
Did my time, took my chances
Went the distance now I'm back on my feet
Just a man and his will to survive
So many times it happens too fast
You trade your passion for glory
Don't lose your grip on the dreams of the past
You must fight just to keep them alive
It's the eye of the tiger, it's the thrill of the fight
Risin' up to the challenge of our rival
And the last known survivor stalks his prey in the night
And he's watchin' us all with the eye of the tiger - Survivor
Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle. Be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil; May God rebuke him, we humbly pray; And do thou, O Prince of the Heavenly Host, by the power of God, thrust into hell Satan and all evil spirits who wander through the world for the ruin of souls. Halleluiah – Prayer of Saint Michael
And that brings us to tonight’s word: SHOT AT THE NIGHT
Once upon a time… in a galaxy far far away… there lived a simple kind of man… a farmer. Content to sow the seeds of the earth and raise animals to feed the village. He never thought much of doing anything else. It was rewarding work. It was God’s work. It satisfied his soul. Early to bed and early to rise. Makes a man healthy wealthy and wise. The evils of the illuminatzi were a million miles away. Kary Perry on Sesame street was a city boys wet dream. Lady Gaga was merely radio gaga on an AM transistor tucked in the corner of the tractor cock pit. Big outside dinners with family and friends. It was a good life.
One day he woke up and discovered he wanted to fight. To be a fighter. To lay down his sickle and pick up his dukes. We may never know why he chose to change paths so late in life. Was it the injustice he witnessed while in town to pick up a carbonator? Noticing the leaders in town were merely false prophets lining their pockets while the town dried up? And it’s people went hungry? Judas sheep leading his neighbors farms into foreclosure? Was it not lonely hookers were showing up on main street, but that the girls were getting younger and younger? Was it not only farms were going back to the banks, but auto plants were headed down Mexico way as well? Was it that a Planned Parenthood ribbon cutting was coming to Smallville? Teenagers were becoming Percocet junkies? And for some reason the age of consent was going down as the price of condoms were going up? Was it that from the seclusion of his farm he never really saw the 1 degree increases in the boiling water but when visiting family in town, it was as clear as day? 500 channels of shit on the TV to choose from? Or maybe it was none of that at all. Maybe it was the voices in his head. Singing Gloria. Calling him to fight for whatever reason heaven will allow. A spirits calling who works in mysterious ways? The why of this simple mans’ story… is never told. Though we pay the storyteller oft in gold. But never will he tell as he cannot be bought nor sold.
Our protagonist as it turns out is not a bad little fighter. Not a great little fighter either. But what’s he got is a bit of heart combined with a dap of stupidity and a schmeckle of fearlessness. A dangerous cocktail indeed. And that’s not easily cloned. With a little technique, he might actually win a fight or two. He puts in the time. Hits the bag every minute of every day. Doesn’t mind getting in the ring with the biggest palooka on the block. Raw eggs at 4 am. More like scrambled at 9 am with a shot of tobacco but that’s besides the point. Our hero seems to have a thing for Sylvester Stallone. But I digress. Forget about it.
The time comes in this fighters early career where he gets noticed around the gym. There’s this up and comer hitting the speed bag you gotta see. The kid came out now where. So, in comes a promoter. A manager. Says kid… you can’t make your own. You need someone like me and my red shoes to open those doors to the big fights for you. You want a shot at the title someday, I’m the man to get you there. All you gotta do is play a little ball. Throw a little fight here and there and you’ll make friends in high places. And they’ll keep you high. Buy your pretty little girl a new dress. You just gotta sign right here. Just bit of your blood serves nicely as ink. In fact, I’ll get you a healthy wad o cash… some walk around money as a signing bonus. Just a few beads to tide you over till your next fight. Just remember… when we say jump, you say how high? When we say sing, you say what octave? And when we say dive, you say how deep? And if we say join the 27 club… no tears. Got it?
Don’t you let that deal go down….
Afterwards, in walks another promoter. Another manager looking for the next featherweight champion of the world. Says kid… my name’s Michael. How do you do? I saw your last fight. To say you’re rough around the edge, would be a compliment. Have you thought about a career in cleaning bedpans? No? Ok here’s the deal. You’ve taken it about as far as you can. That’s actually good news. If the devil wants to make a deal with you, you’re a threat to her and her red shoes. Now I can’t guarantee you will win every fight. I can’t be there late at night to hold you hand when the demons visit with their fear and doubt. Those are your fights to fight. But I will be there if they try to crush those sweet keyboard hands in a dark alley. You’ll be safe and sound. Safe and sound. You’ll have all the gym time you need. 24/7. You have a fighting style no ones seen before and it’ll take you far. But if you want to go all the way, my team can help you put a few more surprises into your bat belt. Have you thought of making your own GIFs? Just a thought. You’ll have all the inspiration and resources to take it to the championship ring… if you want it, that is. There will be no one in your way but you. You… will be your greatest enemy. You have the talent to go all the way… the question is as it’s always been to man throughout all of time… how bad to you want it? This God given spark and talent your perverse generation seems to love to waste on a 3D matrix… how much do you want to win?
Cause you had the talent to become a good fighter and instead of that you became a leg breaker for some cheap second rate loan shark…
You will learn to get out of your own way with the proper training. Ego. Pshaw. Left side brain lizard thinking? Forget about it. Honey pots? Definitely forget about it. Once you realize you are the only thing in your way… you will be unstoppable. Much like humanity will be unstoppable once they discover this secret. But hey, one step at a time. Getting all of humanity to wake up at once is like eating an elephant with one bite. It’s exhausting and it’ll only make you sick.
So kid… you say you wanna shot at the night? You wanna a little payback? A little even St. Stephen? I’ll give you your shot. And the good news? I won’t make you take dive, Johnny. Your victories will be yours. The harder you fight… the longer you train… the greater you study your craft and the ways of Sun Tzu… every chalk in the win column will be yours. Just as every hateful loss will be yours to own as well. Maybe I can’t offer you what the devil can offer. You won’t have to work as hard. Your opponent will either go down in the 3rd or you will. That’s what she said. You’ll have limo service. You’ll just show up and dance for the cameras. You’ll be a puppet on a string. Or a monkey in a circus. You’ll hardly break a sweat with her deal. And not sure if you read the fine print in that contract or not, but if the devil says it’s time to die… it’s time to die.
What I can put in writing is if you got the heart and soul to plow thru every opponent in that ring, I can guarantee you, you’ll have that shot. But there’s no signing bonus. There’s no baby lobster dinner or some 12 year old girl waiting in the jungle room somewhere. There’s no 2021 Escalade with your name on it. Just safe passage into the ring and out of it. And maybe a couple pointers along the way. Keep that left up. Don’t engage that shill. No matter how tarded his stick figure cartoons are. And for Christs sake… put down that Guinness.
And that my dear readers is where the story ends. You decide if he was wise or foolish. If he took the easy or hard way out. You decide if he sold his soul for a little creature comfort. Still waiting for the day for his shot at the title only to be told to take a dive in the 9th. Or did our fighter decide to go his own way? With nothing but the sweat on his palms and the ringing in his ears? Praying someday for that title bout knowing win or lose, it’s always been his fight to win or lose. And on that fine day he meets his maker… the satisfaction of knowing he was never under control of any man or fallen angel.
So you wanna be a boxer eh? You wanna live for the next fight? Wanna get in the ring with a gorilla who wants to put you six feet under ground? It’s not for everyone as we are discovering. Millennials are falling like flies. Karens drowning in their own tears. Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be fighters. But if you hear the calling… the clarion call to pick up a deadly keyboard… to rage, rage against the dying of a light. To rage against the lowering of the age of consent. To rage against ripping babies from their mothers tummies for a vampires brunch… then follow your heart. It will never lead you astray. Except for that one. That one. Awkward….
If you must enter the ring and there’s no talking you down from the acrobats wire where you find yourself caught between the devil and the deep blue sea… may I suggest? Your first stop is Arch Angel Michaels Gym and Boxeria? Over on 11th Avenue and Levitate St. next to the Brooklyn bridge. Just follow the smell of sweaty jock straps and leather speed bags. Tell em Heis sent you. He might even let you in on how the story ends.
And that’s the word
Heisenberg
Love Is Bigger Than Anything In Its Way (U2 x Cheat Codes)
Crazy Baldhead
SHOT AT THE NIGHT
Midnight Rider
St. Stephen (Winterland 12/31/78)
Sing Your Life
Love is Bigger Than Anything In Its Way (Beck Remix)
Can't You See
Ray Of Light
My Own Soul’s Warning
Badlands
Devil's Hot Rod
Lotte Lenya in Alabama Song
Age of Consent
Amy
No More Tears
Till Your Well Runs Dry
I've Got You Under My Skin Louis Prima
Spaceman live TRNSMT 2018
Safe From Harm
Safe And Sound
Who's That Guy
The Man (Bonnaroo)
Levitate
Ghosts
Love Is Bigger Than Anything In Its Way (Live from Mohegan Sun, 3 July 2018)
Gloria
Landlady
Roam, the phone is where I live til I get home
And when the doorbell rings you tell me that I have a key
I ask you, how you know it's me
The road, no road without a turn and if there was
The road would be too long
What keeps us standing in this view
Is the view that we can be brand new
The landlady takes me up in the air
I go, I go where I would not dare
Landlady shows me the stars up there
I'm weightless, weightless when she is there
And I'll never know, never know what starving poets meant
Cause when I was broke, it was you that always paid the rent
Space, her place is where I found my parking space
And when I'm losing ground, you know she gives it back to me
She whispers "don't do, just be"
The landlady takes me up in the air
I go, I go where I would not dare
Landlady shows me the stars up there
I'm weightless, weightless when she is there
And I'll never know, never know what starving poets meant
Cause when I was broke, it was you that always paid the rent
Every wave that broke me
Every song that wrote me
Every dawn that woke me
Was to get me home to you, see
Every soul that left me
Every heart that kept me
The strangers that protected me
To bring me back to you
Every magic potion
Every false emotion
How unswerving our devotion
To the lies we know are almost true
Every sweet confusion
Every grand illusion
I will win and call it losing
If the prize is not for you
______________________________________________________
If you wish to contact the author of any reader submitted guest post, you can give us an email at UniversalOm432Hz@gmail.com and we'll forward your request to the author.
______________________________________________________
All articles, videos, and images posted on Dinar Chronicles were submitted by readers and/or handpicked by the site itself for informational and/or entertainment purposes.
Dinar Chronicles is not a registered investment adviser, broker dealer, banker or currency dealer and as such, no information on the website should be construed as investment advice. We do not support, represent or guarantee the completeness, truthfulness, accuracy, or reliability of any content or communications posted on this site. Information posted on this site may or may not be fictitious. We do not intend to and are not providing financial, legal, tax, political or any other advice to readers of this website.
Copyright © 2020 Dinar Chronicles
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