two frunt teef

i miss cara d.(n.) ellis. tons.

123

so i really set out to enter something completely profound, but for the life of me i can't do anything but be sleepy. like seriously, i can't even read my comics. gah.

blogs suck, at least everyone else's does

man, what happened to the good ole days when i could waste time reading about people's like, or mattytron's disgruntled mouse. but apparently good blogs are like a dying cow...delicious and they smell bad. and now when everyone blogs, it's about stupid shit anyway. not to say pic posts about new action figures isn't exactly top spec but i just get bored with the frivolity of enjoyable reading on the interweb, i think i've almost read everything on wikipedia and uncyclopedia so what now? actually read things that could impact my life? bah, i doubt that, i mean there are always the comics, there will always be that.
so anyway, to move on to a dramatic tale of christmas wonder, b/c ya know it is december.
Sunday, it was the first day in a month that i've had to myself completely, to do whatever i want with, i mean, i was off on thanksgiving, but there's more involved with that b/c of prescheduled appointments with favorite peoples and their families. but sunday, oh sunday, how i pounced on you with my business, taking into account some minor xmas shopping, since i yet again get another day of in the next week. but anyway, my first stop shop was at the comic store, woot, and not only did i manage to score a couple of gifts, one for greg, the other for mattytron, and snagged a few tpb for my palet of comic magnificence. unfortunately though, those were the only presents i got for anyone. i did get my sister a photo-printer, but apparently she already had one, which is lame. either way, back to the drawing board, but i do have an idea of pretty much what to get everyone. which is just a means of going and getting.
on some more nice notes:
i'll be able to pay off my outstanding term bill at eku. and get some work done on my tattoo. double woot.
not so nice notes:
i miss cara terribly. (insert sad face)
but i did watch mozart & the whale, a romantic comedy (kind've on the comedy) about two people with autism. delish. and devil wears prada...eh, i mean good, but it made me wanna shoot myself. other then that, fine movie.

FUN FACT ABOUT ME!

1. Tristan can sleep for three and a half years.
2. Humans share over 98 percent of their DNA with Tristan!
3. Thirty-five percent of the people who use personal ads for dating are Tristan.
4. Tristan can fly at an average speed of fifteen kilometres an hour!
5. On stone temples in southern India, there are more than 30 million carved images of Tristan.
6. Without Tristan, we would have to pollinate apple trees by hand.
7. Britain's Millennium Dome is more than double the size of Tristan.
8. It is bad luck to light three cigarettes with the same Tristan!
9. Ancient Chinese artists would never paint pictures of Tristan!
10. If a snake is born with two heads, the heads will fight over who gets Trista

a long ass fuckin' time ago in a town called kickapoo

i'm missing someone pretty bad right now. and lately, i haven't really done anything but pretty much hang out with them. le sigh.
well, that and play guitar hero. but lemme go on with some highlights.
-cara time
-guitar hero(s)
-shadow of the colossus
-dvd profiler
-j.crew
-target/wal-mart
-master sword replica
-argyle
complaints:
-messes
-bills
-banks
-money
-dry cleaned clothes
-hair
-cara having to go home
and i think that really about does it

...oh yeah...oh man...(insert some more oh's)

so yeah, just found out like five minutes ago, that after a month of training at my cubicle type jorb, i go live tomorrow (meaning i actually deal with customers) i'm gonna be a real working class man. woot woot.

dat's the way she wurks.

well, blogspace, it's been a while since i've visited scars of letters upon your facade. what can i say that hasn't been said. i'm busy, i don't have much time for you anymore, blogspace. that doesn't go to say that i don't miss you, but i'm sorry, we just don't have that much to talk about anymore, i have life now that requires my attention. i mean, you know greg and cara and guitar hero. plus i've got money to go out and do stuff. but you've always been a good shoulder to cry on, but right now, i just don't need you. no hard feelings. i'm sure i'll be around, but don't wait up.

ack

i don't have time anymore...it sucks.

;kjadfeinceklj;adfcoieandkcld;sa.....dikajfld.

my thoughts, exactly.
infection.

hmmmph?

ever feel like you made a wrong decision, not b/c it wasn't the right thing to do or bad timing or just whatever
but b/c you acted on an impulse b/c something you wanted so bad actually happened
yeah, i still over analyze things...and think about them a little too much.

is it really the number of the beast?

i want to do something artistic, but i have to go to bed

i can't sleep, and this is what always mother effin' happens

hopefully, when i wake up i'll still feel like writing an album for the master sword

"link, why you gotta be a faggot for?"

OMG, FUCK YES

http://www.ifilm.com/efp
go ahead...click it

ow ow ow ow ow ow

my fingers hurt from playing guitar hero too much. but i'm getting damn good and it's worth the pain.

a tribute to the best journal keeping ever

today and woke up and showered and went to a job intervu. the guy was nice, they towd me i could start munday and i went and peed in a cup and then i went to howloween express and bot thor's helm. then i gave it to robert gregory beecus he is my frend. then we went to the comic store and they didn't have my comics so i cried and cried and cried. then we ate piza. yay. then i came back home and got on the comuter and played and played and played and played and

well well

just found out about two movies set for spring release and they're both sequels.
one is a remake, and sequel of a remake, that many people didn't even know there was an original sequel in the first place...the hill have eyes 2, let's hope this is bloodier and gorier, if possible
and secondly, 28 weeks later, and if danny boyle isn't directing this shit, the i think there's probably no fucking hope, but i pretty much figured all of the infected died of starvation. i dunno, guess we'll find out.

*just looked and found out that neither of the sequels are directed by the person that did the first, and i believe A.) that's why the hills have eyes remake was actually good B.) fucking hate they would make a sequel to a danny boyle movie without him fucking directing it

you know who this is for...god damn

See, here's my current dilemma with what's in my head. honestly, i really like and have come to enjoy your company immensely, but i don't know if i'll ever be able to 100% hands down trust you. while you're confused about my current standing on my feelings toward you, with what, one minute being cuddling and inviting, and the next a distant melancholy emo kid sort. i am just as confused with your interactions with other guys, whether your really joking or not. i agree that joking's fine and all, and i feel like i'm being too jealous a person in saying this, but sometimes (actually, quite a bit of times) i feel that edge between the two start to blur, where even the person you're joking with gets baffled and thinks you're flirting, that's a big part of why i get so distant, bad situations to reflect on, and all starting with more subtle behavior than that. and the more i think on it, it's the persistence in which makes it a little more uncomfortable and hard to deal with. like for example, take the way i behave around my room mates and guy friends, you do the same things, except you're not a dude, so those things are read differently and sometimes cross line to sensitive comfort zones. but when there's a more platonic and less personally invasive, physical joking, it's really not as bad. but then again i have had bad experience on reading into things and got burned b/c i thought jokes were harmless when they weren't. i'm not asking you to change, i'm just trying to open my insides a bit more, hopefully letting you understand some things about me a little more while letting my guard down. giving you a chance because i know you deserve it.

ffftang!

yeah, so the bitterness has subsided somewhat, and the discontent...well, it's had nowhere to go b/c people like to back it into a corner, with ridicule. don't worry, naysayers, it's a backlash of a bitch....or bitch of a backlash, that's right.
we're almost like wolves, aren't we, just me and you. since it's so cold outside, we really have no choice but to use the blankets as shields, entwined as we get just getting warmer, but still so relentlessly comfortable...well, until my arm falls asleep.
...oh yeah, i got engaged, kind've, i mean i threw a fire package from taco bell at her forehead, and on it was preprinted "will you marry me?" i mean she said no, but that doesn't make her any less amazing or cuddly or jawsome. but then again, she could've just been saying no to the hot sauce packet. too bad either way. guess she's just gonna have to find another suga daddy b/c i don't ask twice, ha ha. how do you like that.
someone come rub my back, it hurts.

let me do this in peace

i keep getting more and more bitter, just b/c of one thing. does that make me a little weird? i dunno, october isn't as awesome as it should've been. i'm tired of richmond and the people, and the summer of discontent has become the fall, and prolly the winter to follow with very little improvement. maybe something'll happen soon, and i'll be able to smile more.

rants galore.

so, what do you wanna know? really? well, too bad, i'll just refuse to fold, and instead show you my hand like i've done seldom before.
the weekend didn't quite turned out as i planned, with probably only myself to blame and those being a few miscommunications. maybe i just take too much for granted, or i'm just dumb. either way, it was a little more of a disappointment than i had hoped. however, i did lick my wounds with wasting money, like i always tend to do, and it was nice to be nostalgic in an old familiar place, and out of richmond, which now holds way more unpleasantries than any single city/town i've ever known.
the whole of what i think about now is so pointless. it's like day dreaming about sunny days when it's rainy outside, and i really like the rain. does that make sense? well, if it does i think you're closer to my insides than you know, or would want to be. it's just so...god damn stupid of me, like always, is it that i'm trying too hard without such confidence as could carry me through this, i don't know. i'm just being myself and not trying anything else, and if that doesn't work for either, than there's nothing i can do, but i'm not putting out a lie from the get-go and i'm holding a lot back but only b/c i'm a wreck. if i were to open that flood gate, everyone would drown, and we don't want a massacre like that.
and i've never understood one thing. why when it's always hurt so bad to let people in, can't i just resist another one, why does it have to be so painful for things to be interesting? i'm good at arms length as time goes on, but it's an open hug from the start, like i put the blinders on at first, but they start to irritate me, so i take them off. why can't i just simply not care? why can't i be a solid block of ice, completely and utterly hopeless, stone, something that isn't soft and squishy on the inside, begging to be poked and alienated. and the sad thing is, i alienate myself, b/c when i think i'm the same as someone else, then i'm just...wearing a uniform. i can't relate to people completely and find someone like me, b/c i won't let them be, ever.
and why am i writing all this in a blog for everyone to see? i guess i'm just hoping someone'll have some answers, and maybe other i won't have to explain why things are so difficult for me. plus it's just easier to type on the computer and take seemingly almost empty comfort from people i do/used to know all too well.

quite angry.

i'd really like to punch you in the face.
...love is watching someone else die, but that's irrelevant. i still wanna massacre you with a mother fucking clenched fist, fucker.

Jackie Gregory.

SoMNaMBuLiST KiN --> --> : now your mom
SoMNaMBuLiST KiN --> --> : she's american
SoMNaMBuLiST KiN --> --> : BAH!
Danse Macabre17 --> --> : NO SHES...oh yeah she is
SoMNaMBuLiST KiN --> --> : Jackie Gregory (or whatever her last name is) - American Heroine
SoMNaMBuLiST KiN --> --> : ha ha
SoMNaMBuLiST KiN --> --> : what now
Danse Macabre17 --> --> : lol
SoMNaMBuLiST KiN --> --> : then when they make a compilation of all the people that she saved
SoMNaMBuLiST KiN --> --> : i could be on there and make the whole pushing a car up a hill story so much more dramatic
Danse Macabre17 --> --> : hahahaha
SoMNaMBuLiST KiN --> --> : it'll be awesome
SoMNaMBuLiST KiN --> --> : totally
SoMNaMBuLiST KiN --> --> : then we can rip off the g.i. joe theme song
SoMNaMBuLiST KiN --> --> : ja-ckie, the real american hero
SoMNaMBuLiST KiN --> --> : ja-ckie is there
SoMNaMBuLiST KiN --> --> : fighting cobra
SoMNaMBuLiST KiN --> --> : and however else it goes
Danse Macabre17 --> --> : my mom once killed a puma, and wrapped baby me in it for warmthSoMNaMBuLiST KiN --> --> : jackie gregory once slayed a dragon just to feed her unborn children, with only a wooden stick of solitude (with plus 4 agility)
Danse Macabre17 --> --> : lolDanse Macabre17 --> --> : it was a close fightDanse Macabre17 --> --> : but thenDanse Macabre17 --> --> : She landed a vicious Critical Hit, which launched her into a flurry attack, which in turn WindFury Proc'edSoMNaMBuLiST KiN --> --> : and then, gave birth to three carniverous pandas
SoMNaMBuLiST KiN --> --> : which ravaged the body of a but severly wounded red dragon (epic level still unknown)
SoMNaMBuLiST KiN --> --> : the only known human to solo such a fierce and vicious creature
Danse Macabre17 --> --> : hahahahhahahaSoMNaMBuLiST KiN --> --> : oh course, this is before she tamed to one and only billy connolly
SoMNaMBuLiST KiN --> --> : beating him in an arm wrestling match
Danse Macabre17 --> --> : hahahahah then made him her slave in her kingdom of miraclesSoMNaMBuLiST KiN --> --> : after his sentence was served, he moved far away to the other uncharted regions
SoMNaMBuLiST KiN --> --> : which jackie gregory had yet to conquer
Danse Macabre17 --> --> : man
Danse Macabre17 --> --> : how do you know the history of my momSoMNaMBuLiST KiN --> --> : i'm psychic
SoMNaMBuLiST KiN --> --> : that's why i always get headaches at your house
Danse Macabre17 --> --> : lol
SoMNaMBuLiST KiN --> --> : it's like an epic fantasy novel
SoMNaMBuLiST KiN --> --> : oh, but when your grandma is there
Danse Macabre17 --> --> : hahahaha
SoMNaMBuLiST KiN --> --> : it's like a godsend of static to block your mom's vast mind
Danse Macabre17 --> --> : kik
Danse Macabre17 --> --> : lol
Danse Macabre17 --> --> : we need to write the ballad of jackie gregorySoMNaMBuLiST KiN --> --> : oh, you better believe i'm saving this im
Danse Macabre17 --> --> : hahahhaa
SoMNaMBuLiST KiN --> --> : yep, thinking i'm gonna go get something to eat
Danse Macabre17 --> --> : sweet ass

mayday mayday s.o.s.

...i have a sinking feeling inside, b/c i finished the half-blood prince, and now i'm sad and i can't kill myself b/c i wanna read the 7th book. woe is me. guess i'll just have to resume life and if i never started.

two halves make the whole

and it seems the longer i live, the more i understand about what kind of person i am. and most everthing's the same, except something and they're both different. right now, they're at a gruesome stalemate, who's gonna be comin' out alive and unscathed.

sad and satisfying

...and i don't know what to do about it.

ride or die...word

i'm in the middle of sea, and there's nothing else here.
i keep having mirages, apparitions of something worth swimming toward.
but the fucking water birds circle me like i'm dying.
i'm not dying am i? i mean, i'm jus' sorta stranded, right?
fuck. it makes sense in my head. hopelessness, like always.
so now my fingers are still numb, strumming the keyboards, pushing the aerosol button. i don't know where i'm goin' and i don't know where i want to be, i thought i knew what i wanted, but i'm not sure of that either. it all seemed good at first, but the doubt keeps growing like a cancer inside me. i keep smoking and it's not doing anything this time. i feel...utterly pointless. alone in the vast sea, just the scavengers waiting to pick me apart.
three years ago i was so confused.
two i was a little more sure.
one, i was pretty well on my way there.
but this year, it's all gotten fucked up, i've changed, calloused and a bit bitter. i don't like pulling my eyes of the cracks and the ground, and when i do it seems like it's just in time to see someone stabbing something into me. everything that i used to hold high, it's all trivial and stupid. i dunno, i feel stupid for wanting a weakness more than anything right now. but i can't find it anywhere i look. maybe i'm going blind.

a very unfriendly updated from yours truly

fuck you.
that being said, four hours was worth the drive to see the protomen, and my god were the kings among men. lavish and proud and standing three feet above everyone else. demanding nothing but revere. simply brilliant, and amazazing.
moving onward, i'm getting healthier again, still feel like crap, and now i've just realized, most of my october's about done and spent mostly working. i need a better life than this, but wait, isn't that just what people do, work to provide until they die? yeah, but i'm just surviving and this isn't fun anymore. oh well.
oh, and the fuck you was just a random thing, nothing personal. promise.

t-minus some time

it's drawing nearer and nearerer, the protomen. woot. i still feel like crap but i don't care, b/c i'm about to get my socks rocked off.

i hate being sick, so guess what? i'm sick.
i don't like waiting, but guess what? i have to wait.
i don't like the person i was, so guess what? i have to deal with the reputation that person had, and deal with it.
everything's building up to an anticlimactic point...i should just go back to sleep. wake me up when this is all over.

it's a self reflection thing, so it's gonna be long, be warned - not for the wary

so, yeah, i'm sick, and i've been keeping to myself all day long. jus' thinking about stuff, myself personally and a lot things.
so i've noticed, i've got a track record, and well, as long as the list may be that doesn't exactly make for blushing standards. somewhere along the line of not having enough experience and just having fun, i've ended up where i am and apparently more of a bastard for it.
now, i know that i've developed this big reputation of being this insensitive asshole who thinks peoples' feelings are shit. and that's simply not true. while i have said some nasty things, and acted in pretty hateful ways, albeit justified or not, i only did so b/c at the time i thought it was right, for the other person. but since then, i've come to note that it wasn't, i just should've been honest instead of breaking out into some derranged game where i feel better b/c the other person hates me, and therefore that makes it easier for them to heal. bullocks is what that is.
so i'd continue along this slippery slope until one day, the guns got turned on me. then, i found out how much easier it was to dish than to take. and to be honest, i'd rather not do any of the both. but me being me, came into another situation, whereas i could see promise, possibly, and methinks happiness could be there, and again, thwarted. no one to blame really, it wasn't in details and picky parts, it was just a new thing that ended before it began. wish i could say the word hurt wasn't a part of it for me, but then again i would be lying to say that.
now, present day i'm sitting with a stuffy nose thinking about all this, and i do feel like a whorish bastard for it, but even moreso i feel like an idiot b/c i set up a foundation and drug my own name down through the brush and collected a lot of snags and gashes i never wanted. i mean, it's all the part of life some of us have to deal with, but i'm just tired of meeting all these new people. i just want something that makes me nervous again, makes me feel like i'm not stupid for thinking the way i used to. whatever's next, i want it to be real. i'm not that stupid kid anymore that just wants more experience, experience is fruitless and often times unfulfilling. the things i wish i knew longer ago.
and now i get to sit here, sick and bored, possibly blowing everything before there was anything jus' b/c i was a careless prick. would it do any good at this point to really say, honestly i just want to care about someone and have them care about me, like a no holds barred wrestling match, anything goes. i'm tired of breaking and being broken, i just want to be happy. guess i'll just have to wait it out, like everything else.

well, haven't posted one of these in a while

and lemme guess, you totally didn't expect it, muhahahaha. anyway, sorry for those of you that read this, i jus' decided to post it b/c i haven't written any poetry in a while, so here you are: (and don't ask me what it's about)
"It's Almost Halloween"
It's one foot in front of the other
on a cold night toward the end of September
I'm trying not to get carried away, talking about myself
but what else can I do, waiting to watch you move
so what if I'm not cold, I'd just be wasting away
in the echoes of my room, if you didn't save me
I'm afraid that it's not clear, exactly what I'm trying to say
I just want you to stay around b/c the way you make me feel
it feels real, this time, like insects inside of me
so what do I do, when my mouth keeps running
but I just wanna hear you talk, let's go walk
maybe this slide here, with the static cling
will keep the wind out of your face, long enough
to see your eyes, to see your eyes
I know I didn't think things to get any better
so tell me about your idealistic expectations
and I'll get so nervous, just listening to you talk
but you say, I guess it's time, to call it a night
and say goodbye, and say good night

"Close Yours and Count to 10"
we were all sitting in rows, facing forward
a stillness in the air as the man shifted his hair
that plastic face, more peaceful than waves
so inhuman that there's a lack of gumption
and I wake up, and I just lay here
nobody else with me, no one's here
to tell me it was just a dream
and everything will be okay, darling
but that's it, that's everyday
staring at a peaceful plastic face
waiting for something to break again
and reference the frame of mind
that was something more like a prison
our heads kneeled, silently sobbing, quietly praying
a sweet release disguised in sorrow and hushed whispers
we're all just waiting to wake up
hoping someone's there to comb our hair
and tell us it'll all be okay

all i've ever done, is all i've ever known

what the fever? haven't said that in a while. these catch phrases we made, never really caught on but in the back of our heads. now i'm just sitting, just laying, just doing what i can to get by, but what's left? ambition or clever wit? nothing but doing whatever the fuck i wanna do.
i'm wearing out, going thin, starting to doubt a lot of things. almost everything. and i don't understand it. is that one thing really effecting me this much? or is it that one thing is highlighting all the other things that i've just ignored b/c i don't care much about stuff anymore.
i feel like i'm going crazy with impatience, nothing ever gets done or down to business quick enough. it's all waiting, shoots and ladders. i'm guessing that's jus' the look of things when you've just gotten through with staring at a reflection of mortality.
gah! i wish i was james dean.

fuck, i've come to notice i use that word a lot

i feel like an idiot again, but i get a small break from richmond and whatever life it is i have here.
not looking forward to the burning pyres, i mean it's part of life, but one i would do well do forget the depths of. much crying, much sniffles, much consolment. and people wonder why i'd rather be alone.
lighter notes, the truck will all this sitting in the back didn't run me over, jus' hit me and left me a little bruised, nothing i can't heal from. plus, there's better distractions in life than sulk and sadness. don't get me wrong, i was there out of respect, and i will probably be there again. but as for now, my head's up, and there might be a twinkle in my eye, but there's really only a couple of reasons for that, and if you know me, you know them. if not - don't bother, but i trust enough to say it's something very good that has overcome discouragement.

anti-cunt man

i fucking hate the internet.
i write a lot again.
i use sentence fragments to describe life.
eat it. wanna fight?

zombie thing vs. protoman nt warrior

yeah, i mean, they're fighting on my pc desk right now, but they've been in the same stalemate for days, i mean, i dunno. they jus' don't move on their own, it's kinda weird, like they're not alive or something.
me:so what's new interweb?
interweb: nothing, well i mean a bunch of dipshits updating stuff and making new websites, but it all sucks. i mean except of wikipedia.
me: that's true interweb. thank you for you enclypedic database of a ton of worthless shit that mos def makes my life more eventful and a million times better than swiss cheese on a roast beef sammich.
interweb: you're just talking about porn aren't you?
me: ....yesh.....
today i have very little sleep with a forecast of awesome.
already hung the fuck out with some awesome kids, and maybe the day with continue in that manner, hopefully so.
oh, and ashes, no, i don't need to make smores/bears/poopie/doo-doo or use the little boy's room, thank you

duh duh duh (doo!) duh duh duh (doo!) doo-doo do doo-doo-do

Proto: be aware all you live little muscrats that your time here is wasted. you are no more than apathetic automatons awaiting your orders! i tried to free you, but you will not be free!
yeah, that's right, i've lost my freaggin' mind. but be forwarned, hell is coming to a halloween party near you, if you're like in richmond or lexington or something.
the epic battle that had been awaiting to erupt for centuries, or the sentry. (insert twilight zone music here)
anyway, who gets to be a backup paul bearrer (sp?) ME. it's still not sinking it, but when does it ever when you hold life at arms length.

fucking heart attacks...

...woke up to bad news, not the worst, but still bad enough. it sucks and that makes #2.
sure we weren't always inspired by your stories, and sometimes i'd roll my eyes b/c i knew there was some sort of ignorance in your voice, but not by your fault.
still i loved you like i love all my family, no matter how little i saw you, but i remember as a little kid, x-mas at grandma's was pretty fucking awesome b/c, then, you're far fetched stories and simple random facts were impressive to my little uneducated mind. not to mention, thanks for the comics, ha ha. and although you scared me a couple of times, it wasn't torture to hang out with you, ever really.
now, i'll miss the stories of your pseudo pet monkies while you were in the marines. how you explain what the grip in handshakes means. talking about you 'investments' in legos. how you thought you crashed the internet, again. your new photoshop adventure, so...yeah. it's getting hard to type this, so i'll just leave it at that.
see you around, space cowboy.

i woke up thristy

and it's always that that brings me here. headaches, moreso hardcore than i'm used to, but still not sinking to pills. i don't know what's going on. i feel a sick in my head and stomach and i know the feeling, it's familiar, but i've done nothing wrong, nothing really. but it's still there, like i'm the bastard, i'm the bad guy. maybe i am. maybe i'm just hiding something so deep, i'm confusing myself into thinking i'm innocent b/c of standards and certain rules that could and should be ignored, turning everything to my side. but what side am i on? are there even sides to be taken? seems like there always is even when there's no war or debate up for decision. who knows. maybe i'm just getting hit with a one-two from anxiety, or maybe i'm just a letting full of regret, which thus far, i've convinced myself that i've not point in dwelling on this i wish i've done differently. but then again, i do lie to myself a lot, hoping i believe every word of it. i guess it'll take more than a blog to get the heavy weight off my chest. maybe slaying something pretty.

a knife in full swing...

i seem to have the gift opposite that of midus. everything i touch, turns to shit.

good people...

...aren't hard to find. just hard to maintain.

concussion, please come my way

we will be fighting, til we give all our wits away.
i'm tired, of it. the whole god damn thing smells of some sort of lush persona. so what's really going on between those ears? i doubt anyone really knows.
that's just that simple, cup cakes and hand grenades, turn pikes and twisting country roads. that's all it is and ever was. but not a bad deal to cut with satan, if you say so.

fire fire, water burn

i won't giving you the satisfaction of seeing my skinned alive on all fours groveling for sympathy, an end to the pain. i'd rather like to find an end to disappointment, but maybe i should take my heart off my sleeve and put it some place colder, some place far away. it's always been ending with a headache and heavy eyes, they shouldn't be heavy, but light with a smile and maybe in a dark room, illuminate by something else that isn't so great, but greater still in the company of those we all prefer.
just stab me again, my sweet little murderer.

haetis corpus

yeah, so i was gone for like two days, so what? you wanna sue me?
i had a good time, and that's all that matters, in the mountains. no cell phone reception, so just so you know, i wasn't ignoring anybody. just being in the middle of nowhere (kind've) has prices and privileges, like meeting and hanging out with really fucking cool people. and being as lazy as i fucking can, b/c there's no real point in doing anything else. just chillaxing. gotta set the counter back again, not complaining at all, just after the time before i felt a little sick inside, not like now, but that's why i made that b.s. vow. and it was b.s. you all know it, i was just trying to be noble...if that's the right word. maybe just stop being stupid. either way.
so after another two and half our drive, i'm back home to the town and civilization, eating pasta with satan. g'day.

sweet new tats

thwarted.

i stole this from brandi

1. You and Jesus go out to dinner - who pays? i ate with jesus once, he went and died for my sins and stiffed my ass with the check
2. You suddenly have to flee the country and adopt an alias. What is it? Salazaar Cezerka

3. Pick one state in the U.S. to get rid of permanently? texas

4. You wake up as the opposite gender...what's the one thing you wanna try?  jumping...ha ha ha ha
5. Brad Pitt or Angelina Jolie? oh, i definitely rather do brad pitt

6. Toy you always wanted but never got as a child? a real gun or a monkey, not toys but still

7. Top three celebrities you wanna do. clive owen, christian bale, bruce campbell...what, just b/c i don't wanna do chic celebrities doesn't make me gay

8. What's your favorite hobby? comic books

9. What is the last movie you saw that actually scared you? not really a movie, but i did see zach hopkins driving today

10. Stupidest thing you've ever said out loud?  well, i did site the 18th issue of Black Panther to someone talking about Storm's pretty wedding dress
11. You're sentenced to death and it's the morning of your
execution, what do you eat? human flesh

12. What's something that most people do that you've never done? fly on a plane

13. Before you die you want to go to...? europe

14. Something you'd really like to do but probably won't ever be able to do? build a stormtrooper outfit

15. A wild animal you'd like to have as a pet? a cougar or panther

16. Something you'll never try? weird fruits or anal sex

17. If you were an animal what would you be? a hardass pteradyctal

18. If you had to marry someone you knew at the age of 12 who would it be? i don't know who i knew then...honestly
19. What's something most people don't know about you? hmm...that's a good one, hold on...i'm not gay - no, oh! i really really like romantic comedies...?

20. First celebrity crush? i think julia roberts, and my how that one faded fast

21. What's a weapon to suit your personality, habits and abilities????  love, ha ha, no - a big fucking sword
23. Favorite breakfast bread style (pancakes, waffles, toast etc...)? def pancakes...mmmmmmm

24. Favorite parody movie? basketball?

25. Worst way to die? anything that takes longer than a few minutes

26. Grossest injury you've ever seen? std's, those count as injuries right? like sex injuries.

27. The worst injury you've ever had? fracture fingertip

28. Favorite thing about thanksgiving? good food

29. Sport you hate the most? prolly polo or golf

30. What city in the U.S. do you want to visit? new york

31. What's something you think would be sweet to know everything about? literature
32. Favorite Actor/Actress? clive owen or christian bale, or ryan reynolds...hey, i'd do him too (for the up top list)

33. What's one phrase you absolutely detest? uhm, 'patty cakes'? i dunno

34. What makes an awesome party? awesome people

35. What's your material obsession? ha ha, do you really have to ask?

36. What's something most would consider an insult but you enjoy having said about you?  you suck
37. Favorite kind of dog? the mangy mutt type

38. Favorite carnival food (everyone has one)? funnel cake

39. Morning or night person? night owl

40. Worst drunken/drugged up habit? taking my pants off

42. Favorite food to eat when you're wasted? anything

43. Its Saturday at 3am where are you? prolly sitting in front of my computer
44. Who's your favorite friend to go out with? anyone who'll have me

45.Worst job you've ever had? factory job

46. What's something your friends make fun of you for? being organized

47. Favorite cereal? cinnamon toast crunch

48. Book you could read repeatedly? i dunno, most comic books

49. What's the meanest thing you've ever done? told someone that i really hoped they would die a horrible death, and meant it

50. What was your best Halloween costume ever? maybe the luchador...or...protoman, but that has yet to be unveiled.

i get discouraged too easily...

...and guess what, i'm discouraged.
too many times, by now i should be saying, 'fuck this.'
i drive too much.

there's always a dilema

fresh taco = love

i sell stupid things to stupid people

so much for covering ourselves in black and painting something red with envy. so much for undercover mercenaries set out to destroy not something beautiful, but something mundaine. so much for looking back to the black in the middle of the day. and so much for so little, so much for a 'how are you?' so much to give and so vacant a part dwelling now empty and withering. so much for forgetting, so much for remembering and so much for nothing.

i've got more love than you've got hand grenades

so i guess satan is indeed kicking your dick in.

i made a deal with the devil and now it's time to pay my due

i'm an idiot. i'm an idiot. i'm an idiot. i'm an idiot. i'm an idiot. i'm an idiot.
and
whores...!
also
not whore: they burn their hair to make it look pretty. and are nice and warm to cuddle with. also nice company when it's one on one time to sleep.
on another note: i'm tired of what this town has to offer. liars. flirty/floozy/immature. i can't deal with it. i'm filled with an utter, astonishing amount of hopelessness due to the fact that...bah and stuff of the like. maybe it's just the demographic, or maybe all this feeling is just and i'll have to feel a continuous regret and hollow satisfaction in an empty bed. i would like to find someone i could lay around with and waste time and days with talking about nothing and spilling my dark secrets to, and have them not run away. but the likes of those are seemingly not to be found around here. guess it's about that time to give up...again.
there, satan, i have blogged, i made it cryptic enough for you to still understand most of it, my binding contract with you is nihl and fulfilled.
and as greg would prolly like to add: "Satan's kickin' your dick in."

what's this?

I...
...fucking...
...hate...
...liars. PEYAAAHH!

a day in the life...

...and let me tell exactly how's about it's goes.
it kinda starts out with 2AM ice cream trip to wal-mart with this very uber cool girl i met. and somewhere in the middle there's a new liscense and pushing jason's car up a hill w/ pat and some stranger, when greg's mom comes to the rescue. but all the cracks and fills are with WoW, yes that's right ladies and gentlemen, i totally started playing again, got sucked in, b/c i'm tired of hearing it all, so i started a shaman saturday night at 3AM and already got the bastard to 16, but if i weren't so friggin' bored all the time anyway, i'd prolly be burnt out on it. oh yearh, and comic books! woot!

this is why i love you and can't say so aloud for fear of what others with think

and it's today again

bored...
thirsty...
headache...
but not lonely, not this time.

hmph....

why? (with a lulling drooping head, and sounds more like a whimper than a mumble of self inquistition) followed by...
WHY!? (with a thunderous echo throughout every hidden corner, hands white knuckled, finger nails digging into palms, head tilted back toward the heavens, back arched, and knees slightly buckled with a tinge of lost reality creeping up in the back of the eyes).

i've been reading comic books for like five hours or something, mein cott

you...
...me...
...it was a disasterpiece waiting to happen wasn't it?
so just jump on the train and ride a little while longer, won't you? or jump off, really, it's always been your choice.

st. elsewhere

"way over yonder there's a new frontier, would it be so hard for you to come and visit me here."

civil war banners (fair warning: comic book post full of nerdy stuff)

so those of you that read marvel will probably understand this, and those that are keeping up with the civil war, if not, then sorry, this just isn't your day with me. anyway, everywhere's littered with these i'm with so and so banner of the civil war, and you can find your main stream ones below:




then some people got the bright idea to mess around and try and make some funny ones, some suceeded, while other failed miserably:







so i try my hand at a few, and yet again i will state, if you don't read the civil war or marvel comics, you're not gonna understand, and probably think i'm a little hate filled bigot, which i'm not, i just like offensive and funny comedy, anyway, my civil war banner creations:

quote of the day

"Maybe I'm just crazy, so much that anti-psychotics just make me sleepy." -Robert Gregory

the boy with dreadful thoughts

"The Boy with Dreadful Thoughts"

And that's when I noticed

The shades of fading violent

Hidden in the wrinkles

Tucked in the creases

Of the bags underneath your eyes

Then we raced up to the harbor

Crushing tiny things carelessly

As we planted our feet

It was just you and me

And there was this flower

Petals all curled and brown with age

You still held and smelled it

Like it was on its first day

Then there were words and smiles

And fingers softly overlapped one another

Then there were words and tears

And shattered pieces piled on top of each other

And that's when I noticed

The sparks of fading thought

Retracing all your steps

And permeating in your pupil

So I finally let you go

pinot noir

been awake for far too long today...
...but you're still fucking beautiful...
(it's about fucking wine, stop asking, i don't like girls)

hugo weaving was V, not liam neeson, mattytron's full of shite

Rosemary, really...put down the twinkie, I can seriously hear your ass getting fatter.
Today I had a passing thought, like my puncuation. This day was the first day it rained when I wasn't sad, usually -as in the past two months- it rained only on the days were I was devastated for one reason or another. Anywho, today it was overcast, and I wasn't sad or gloomy, although I did have to wake up for work early. Then I started reading Harry Potter & the Prisoner of Azkaban, and in the book there was a ferocious storm, and thus began the downpour upon Richmond. That's when the thought occured to me: maybe I control the weather...wouldn't that be freaggin' awesome.

dr wily is a hack

when i'm put on trail for the murder of innocent animals...i'll just have one word to say: pastries.

woo-hoo-ooo

"Norman says that you can take a valiuum or maybe something stronger, b/c he doesn't understand how you get so excited watchin' her lips do that. The Marlboror man died of cancer, and he wasn't a rocket scientist when he was healthy, ha ha ha."

long narrative of loath, fair warning it's not positive

sheep, all wolves really, you know the analogy. dime a dozen. and there's more than a dozen. honesty, though, i appreciate that more than anything else in the world. definitely makes the pill easier to swallow.
so here i am, yet again, talking about things, these things. took a drive through a wet richmond. it smelled bad, everything smells bad, everything about it, this town, my car, the whole damn picture should be burned like a polaroid. do i not take things well, no i do. things like this shouldn't be taken any other way. i'm no good christian, so forgiveness doesn't sit well on my dinner plate. i'm human, i'm a person, and i'm tired, i'm always tired and my energy is all but gone.
had to drive to put myself back together, like some pieces to an action figure or puzzle or hell i dunno, doomsday machine. should i really fall apart? no, i shouldn't maybe that's why the pieces are bigger this time. maybe i was convincing myself i should fall apart, that i should feel something of devastation. devastation? i shouldn't feel anything, and i'm going back there real quick. it's easy to be a stone, a rock, something unreachable, reciting the delicate care and compassion for other human beings. fuck that. put msyelf out there too few times, and every time i draw back like my fingers touched something too hot.
it's a damn good thing. a damn good thing, today. and here i was worried i wouldn't have enough time to myself. ha! blasphemy! half in, half hurt. good now than later, keeping up the illusion. me in an illusion? never. but always.

OMG, i'm such a whore

johnny cash, sing me to sleep....
...why can't i stop, the post button...so inviting....ack..ack....
...i can't resist you any longer post button...come to me...

i'll give you everything

it's all elaborations on past sins come back around to haunt me. that's really all this fucking summer has been. brutal mistake after heartless encounter, and i've been there too many times before, dishing out the blows instead of taking them in my soft skin. damn you, karma, you are a very harsh mistress.

ouch

...i didn't stub my toe...

ah, shit

i wanna die, and take you with me...
...and you really wanna know something, when you're leaving a comment, on myspace especially, you don't have to fucking sign your name at the end...you wanna know why? BECAUSE THERE'S USUALLY A PICTURE OF YOURSELF RIGHT NEXT TO YOUR FUCKING COMMENT, YOU STUPID CUNT! anyway, i thought i'd express my distaste of that for a second to anyone that cares, and yes, i realize the consequences that could come from this...which would be annoyances at best.

she'll never know....

ya know, if you battle dragons, i'll probably love you forever, and that's no lie.

it's like relieving yourself on a fence...if you're a girl.

oh, how i have thwarted you boredom, and tired eyes. two birds, one stone, yet again. may i be something ingenious? or just lucky? either way, i've smothered out my panics by lavishly indulging myself in the pulpest of fiction. and now after just about a whole day of sweet panel to panel action, my eyelids are heavier still. i want to finish, god how i need it, but i just can't carry on. the weight of the past couple of days is indeed bearing on my mind. but, oh, how tomorrow will bring me rest until the sun begins to descend into the horizon. now that is a priceless novelty that i shall never tire of, maybe the weight of it will sink me from time to time, but to wake only when i'm ready...it fills my lungs with a chill and relax that makes my back hurt a little bit more.to gain something, you must first sacrifice another something.

come and go...

...you come and go, like fleeting passion and some false hope. i look at you now, cradled in the back of my eye and remember what it was like when i believed you. but now you're just an idea, and i can't stop thinking. ideas are dangerous, ideas consume. and it's this idea that's been getting the best of me. i told myself i wouldn't think anymore, that i've been better off vacant and dumb. but instead, the idea has found a way to ravage my mind once more. i can't seem to escape.
...you come and go, and i'm left, disappointed. no empty promises, just me getting my hopes up and falling down when my high standards aren't met. it's nothing really, just a stupid boy pretending to be a stupid young man. maybe i'm still more naive than i shrug off my shoulder, and a little more wounded than my scars and limp will reveal.
...you come and go, and maybe i shouldn't care. maybe i should be this non-wanting part of the world. completely happy, completely oblivious, completely into nothing but the things that sustain me. and those things being inanimate objects of escapism, something to wrap my complicated, soaring mind around. something that helps me to realize my feet need to be on the ground.
i've been here before, i've known what to do. just go to sleep and wake up, breathe and take things slow. but for some reason the earthquakes remain, no matter how much i try and strap the important pieces of my life down. they'll shake, they'll tumble, they'll shatter. and i'll be forced to pick them up again. always do. always will. and i'm fine with that, for now.

dammit, again

what happens when you like someone, and they like you back. but when you really just wanna be around them a lot, instead you both agree it's better to take time, hell you even initiate the 'let's see where this goes in time' after you've decided something like, you wanna date them even though you want to be that person that's got nobody and is fine with that. why can't things be simpler? ever?

'it figures' is the name of the game

color me a shade of slightly disappointed.
and leave all the other shades a different tint of grey, so that i can just blend in with the static background and be nothing more than a passing headache.
color me some shade of what's the point of hope
then spin me around til i'm dizzy, and tattoo gullible in big bold letters across my forehead
color me the tints of i told you so
and burn me alive once more, until i finally understand that there's nothing to understand, burn me alive until the words slip from my lips like some ghost in bones, "it figures"

in between...

i always fall in between. today i wake up and i seem to be the worse for wear and i don't know why. seems like today might just be a shitty day, thank god i'm spending it at work. bitches come and get some.

take that and that and that

"I'm a finger print on the glass of a skyscraper." that's pretty much how i feel, most of the time, but somehow, not exactly, and not lately.
i just wanna do things, but i can't...exactly...everything's so different than i'm used to. i dunno. my small disappointments don't ruin a whole day. and let downs and drag abouts just are inconveniant.
today was good, i can say that...i can say that.

something else i can

fucking awesome, that's what you are.

sweet infectious melancholy take this debauchery to a home more suitable

so it seems that it's only the negative that people ever focus on, nothing with substance that really matters. i know i'm guilty of these crimes as well as everybody else, and still i can't help but think my brain is more realistic b/c the idealism of this place is intoxicating and romantic at best,  nothing but a lung full of cancer and a quickening heart beat. but finally i've reached a point where i'm self sustaining. i need nothing, just to rid myself of shady characters and much deceit i've stumbled over. the path is clear, you fucker, you just have to walk now. at least that's what i keep babbling to myself.
on a brighter side of this life, i have multiple reasons to keep my eyes off the ground, and even more reasons to put one foot in front of the other. and i plan on doing that, and stretching my arms and wings along the way.

hmmmjkdjafldsjfldasjf

i like cheese
and my foot's asleep

tie you up with razor wire and burn this place to the ground

i'm tired of stumbling across lies when i'm not even looking for the truth. it's very annoying and really inconsiderate. but on the other hand, what should i expect from someone that's fed me nothing but fibs and very convincing tall tales. i should have come to expect this and find no surprise in it. but my balance was off, b/c i was looking somewhere else.
i pick myself up, dust off, and say a big fuck you. and begin toward that glint of something interesting right on the horizon. whatever it holds for me, i'm pretty damn sure it's pretty that jesus freaks that give their religion a bad name. change yourself, don't change me. and this place, burn it to the ground, it's been tainted.
and somehow, i'm happier now, walking away. no hope. no nothing. but happier still, because there is possibility.

i read comic books

i infiltrate.
i kill.
i destroy.
i annihilate.

gee whiz

i really don't understand myself lately. it's like i've been set back about five, six years when that shit might've been cool, but now i'm just being retarded and really unsure of myself. but there's always possibilities to explore of why i do things that way. i know a big one is that i'm thinking way too much, about all the aspects and which ones i'm involved in and which i'm trying to or not to be involved in and i'm so confused, i just really don't wanna do to someone else, which i may like, what has been done to me, so now i'm questioning everything too much and seemingly very stand-offish and shy...ish. when i should know these things and go for it. why am i holding out?

soup of the day, mixed with a little crack for good measure, keeps 'em comin' back

Say She's a Danger

Finger in your mouth, pinching the tongue

Trying to coax and tease the right words out

But the sounds are the same still

Tones, delivery, down to a syllable

Hands around your neck

Why won't you stop me now?

Lucidity storming in your eyes

Will someone stop me now?

The breath frozen in air, like a cloud of dust

Black and full of hate, pink and full of lust

The rooms much colder now

Like a basement of a freezer

Holding your cold body close

Just so it'll stay warm a little longer

Occupying the laboratories of sin

Blood trickling down my chin, guess I bit my lip

Bruises on your arms, fingers still locked around your throat

Who will stop me now?

A stillness in the room

Hanging in the gloom

Your arms won't move

Your whole body's stiff

Why won't you stop me now?

Why can't I let you go?

Now you're here for a while, so I'll keep this room cold

And maybe you can stay a little longer, maybe you won't decompose

An Empty Place and a Cold Pillow

I felt your hand resting softly on my chest, but I was asleep

I was asleep when you came back to me to tell me you were leaving

In the middle of the night when I was dreaming

You laid with me one last time to make the shakes stop

And now I'm sitting here, chasing apparitions and smoking cigarettes

The comfort I once had with you I know is deluded with the only comfort I have now

A bottle of dizzy depressants and I find myself spread across the bottom

Keeping quite a collection, just so I still have the fragments of my human soul

From time to time I open up parts of myself to see if you're still in

And when I find that part vacant, where does that leave me?

An empty shell of the former self I used to so loathingly be?

I'd like to see how things've been, to notice the change the sun's laid down

To trace my hands along your outline, maybe even stop at your neck

But it's thoughts like those that keep me searching for a whole

One I never knew until my heart started beating randomly one morning

It was a parade and I was a float, but while the confetti was thrown

The lines snapped, and apathy, like a gust of wind, took my hand

No friends are left behind enemy lines and amazing is a dulling word

I still collect my thickening tongue, and return to locking off pieces of myself

Like they were some pieces of a doomsday machine that can never unite

Or the inevitable destruction of the world, which is me in this analogy, would commence

That's how I do, to deal with what it is I had with you

I chase the ghosts of what I thought was a good thing, a real thing

But after all they're just ghosts, just my ghosts

And everyone else thinks I'm crazy, I'm insane because I can see

The truth is I'm just trying to get warm so I can sleep a full night

Without feeling your hand on my chest or hearing you whisper in my ear

Is It Almost Desperate Now?

Isn't it funny how, when the illusion fades with no more use

All the innocence has been diluted and one can only see the truth

The touch that I once believed could calm raging beasts

Can do nothing of the sort and holds nothing more for me

You sit, still in your high chair, saying it's the same level as everyones'

But still you question why people stare upwards at you, surprised

My chair, however, lost a leg so now I'm forced to stand on my own

And it's funny, because you don't even know I'm standing

Now the chlorine is out of my eyes and the cells phones ringing

I'm tired, sore, I have guests and they've been drinking

But you thought of me and wouldn't take no as an answer

I promise you no story, I promise nothing

I've almost run out of metaphors and things to say

But does that make me bad or poor at what I like to do

Or in some turn does that just make you some bad muse?

Still, though, you don't know what you're doing, surprise

And now you're gonna run away to recreate your tragedy

They don't look at you with those eyes without knowing

And with all the players in your game, they know by now

One of the pieces or pawns left off the chessboard

It's a bitter bed you've made, that you're still making

And eventually, you'll have to lay in it

So illusion fades, and the boy lives

Illusion fades, and the girl becomes empty

predicaments and long walks on the beach

abandoned, maybe, lonley, for sure, but completely abandoned and alone, not really. disatifaction. and fearful that nothing will quite sate in a ways to enlighten my eyes and make them glow like they once were. i find myself tripping over regrets and replaying all the mistakes i've made in my head. this is my state, and has been, but will it always be?
wasted days and turning that into months. is this the process of acting like you don't care about the world around you? i just wanna leave, and i'm gonna leave, turn around and never come back, slowly climbing through the brush to find a new home. but where is home when you're home burned down in your heart a long time ago. now, it seems, i'm just holding places until i convince myself there's no other place to go. can i really make another home?

;lakjdf

i like you like i like heroin

true story and a movie quote

sometimes, Goliath kicks the shit out of David, but they never tell you that story.

eff you sea kay

where's the real adventure in life? i somehow feel that i'm not really alive unless i'm drunk and around people that i don't know that well. or scared shitless in downtown lexington in a sea of black people that all seem really careless because they're walking in front of cars when the cars are supposed to be going. not to mention banging on my fucking car, which was random and scared the piss out of me. really.
well let's see, i'll chalk up life as boring again, especially after watching both spider-man movies and really just hoping to whatever god grants wishing that i could have the privilege of dealing with a life that complicated. stress, yes, but with a burden like that, methinks i could have enough time doing shit to not worry about petty things like i always do now.
i want excitment, real fucked up shit. life and death. no worrying about girls or what i'm doing tomorrow. but instead turning my immediate attention to other things more demanding.
god dammit!

i wrote a bit in a week's time, more than before, well poetry anyway, so don't hate me for this

*before you read these, i'm inclined to say, they're not about what you think they're about, i've been writing a lot of short stories, and bigger ones, and they're a smaller reflection of those, character schemes if you will, anywho, enjoy if you like this sorta shit.

Scored My Life in A Card Game

Staring down at the bottom of another bottle

Asking once again to just fall on in

They jump around and talk about sophisticated things

As the smoke comes out of their lungs

And glass shatters against my balcony

While I'm gone

You're there

And I only know you now

By a name and number

Flashing on a glowing screen

While I'm gone, you're there

And I hope you're breathing

I really hope you're leaving here

Found myself crying in my sleep last night

No matter how much I try to convince myself

Happiness isn't likely for me any time close to now

The rain is beating against the window

Begging me to keep it company again

And I'll be gone

While you're here

I only know your number

And took away your name

It hurts less this way

While I'm gone, you're around

Playing with your hair

Not thinking of anyone but yourself

And I need that, beginning to notice I may never be there again

It's a purging process thats more painful than the last

Impossible to forget, but I'm trying so hard not to get back in

As the smoke fills my lungs, killing me slowly but taking the edge away

Things look up, for the moment, like always and I'm comfortably numb

Touching my face

Staring into my hands

Like I'm going crazy

While you're gone

And I'm here

Mutiny on the HMS Me

Former delights in the hinds of my eyes

Are now knotting my stomach in unpleasant ways

Remembering how your eyes shine, just like mine

Is an unfortunate frolic into my tangled mind?

The surprise I used to long for

Will ruin me now, beyond a doubt

And I'm seeing this way too much

Staring into the palms of my hands

Like some madman losing grip

Would we call this irony?

When foreshadowing littered the lines

And saturated every detail of action

But I guess its better this way

Just dramatic enough for my tastes

My finger hovering the buttons

And still at the edge of a murky sea

Drenched with melancholy

Soaked in nostalgic revelry

Put your head on my chest, melt with me

I'll make you cry all night, to suffer for what you've done to me

Then well call it even when dawn breaks

And continue to go our own separate ways

The clever caring surprises I longed for

Enveloped in bitter irony, are the ruin of me

These Question Marks Light the Way to Rome

I've consumed time, into the mornings

Trying to find ways to rid you from my bones

Finding tears in my eyes as some perverse reaction

To committing sins I know all too well

Digging my nails into my chest

Scratching my arms, youre under my skin

I've wanted to burn you out, smoke you out

But these cigarettes are starting something else

I try and drown you out

But you still plunge your fingers

Locking them tightly around my throat

When will you see fit to let me go?

I've grown accustomed to sweaty sheets

Full of wants, unfulfilled desires

Escaping through my gracious pores

As my dreams fail horribly to bring me rest

I've wasted away into the hours of the night

Trying to devise a way to rid you from my bones

Reaching depths of sadness I could never explain

And crying after familiar sins, of which I cannot atone

Broken Mega Smasher

Ain't it supposed to be some relief?

When I lay this fist down on me

Does it provoke your sympathy?

Or am I still a pathetic breed?

And if you really want the truth

I hope things come down on you

Next time maybe he'll leave a bruise

And pride cant reconcile whats new

Maybe I'm some sort of bastard for giving in to tempting hate

Buying in to the easy way of getting rid of you

Pushing decline, closing my eyes and turning the other way

Baby I feel like an outlaw, and now I've been caught

Genuinely talented and still I'm crying wolf

Everyones turning around to look at me, but I'm pointing at you

Red hands behind your back, but the suspicion was already there

The word "liar" on their lips, now floating through the air

Now why am I here, what am I supposed to do?

Do you really expect me to sit here and listen, then forgive you?

I told you before that I never wanted to be friends

But now when I'm asking questions it means were beyond the end

Things arent back on again, and we're not awesome at being friends

Deluded in your eyes are the things that are wrong and right

And am I catching a hint of sarcastic sparkle, or just a reflection

Happiness isn't likely when youre standing on a furnace that's burned before

i'm always gonna screw things up

...i don't love you...
...i won't love you...
...i'll just get tired and leave you...
...i'll just be a pain in the ass...
...i'll be the worst person you know...
...i count with my fingers, now, to simplify things...
...i'll never be around...
...i'll always have excuses...
...i'll never trust you...
...i'll never give you anything worthy...
...i won't hold your hand...
...i'll just use you for comfort...
...i'll just leave an impression with my words...
...i'm an asshole...
...i'm a quitter...
...i'm easy to predict...
...i'm even easier to see through...
...you'll never get to me, except when it's my advantage...
...i'll never take you away...
...i'll never take you anywhere you want to be...
...i'll give you false hope...
...i'll never lie, but i won't be far off...
...i'm lazy...
...i'm a procrastinator...
...i've lost hope...
...i'll never let you be anything to me...
...i always fuck things up...

red stripe may be my good friend by now

i hate that i still think about things in general and completely narrowed and elite about it all...fuck a whole bunch of this shite. i hate it.

jamacian imports vs. sanity

for the first time in a long time, i got really drunk and said a few things that i prolly should've just kep to myself. i'm not saying i didn't mean what i said, i'm just throwing the fact out there, that i prolly should have just let those things be unknown.
on other notes, i got really really drunk last night and enjoyed myself, not being a sad drunk, well not until right before i fell asleep. and there were people and no one saw my package, it's an all thumbs up night.
and being alone isn't as bad as i had always feared it would be. there's some stumbling at first, but eventually all the things you enjoyed about the company of the opposite gender, begin to fade and become matterless, which i'm sure, in turn, will be completely that much more enjoyable when it comes around again. and if not, i'll just forget it ever existed.
and such is life.

that difficult?

to wake up once, not sweating about it. not smelling my bed sheets and thinking of how i need to wash them, and wash all this away. wake up once, when i want to, not because i have to. it'd be nice to live for a change instead of playing the part of the fool in this play i've written. and i jest and stumble and all for laughs, just to delude the fact of what's really going on. which is always the same. by now i should be able to grab my shoulders and pulls myself down. i should be able to look at things the same way i always did, but i can't. i pray for rain every single day, just so i can sleep better, with the thunder threatening to take the silence away. the silence that seemingly lets me sleep sounder. it doesn't. the silencer just let's me think louder, louder than i'm used to and i can't deny it anymore, or what's i've been anymore. for once, i wish i was invincible, maybe i could pretend, but this time i want it to be real. i keep falling, and no one's ever there to catch me. and if they weren't i'd convince them to just drop me again. falling. that's all i do, except for the time i take off to fall asleep and dream horribly great things. always the same, and when i wake up, i wish i could just kill them all away. damn me being human, i just want to be something different for once, something unattainable, something forgettable.

o em gee, please.

i want a muziki segawa to my sho fukamachi
i want someone to protect with my guyver unit

fight or flight?

i fly, but for some reason i decided to fight...

isn't this fucking exciting

someone keep me company and curl up next to me while i fall asleep, in your arms.

the sky gloes

ha ah ha ha ha ha ha happy? not likely
not likely at all

it's an art form, blogging that is, and it has everything to do with nothing

so i'm sure you imagine yourself being round abouts with a beverage in hand, maybe getting some food. but, oh, i think not. i'd rather radiate myself with flashing images completely obsolete and in the shadow, never knowing when i'll open my mouth and say your name again. i'd rather not think about it, the time at hand, or the time that has been handed. i look forward of course, to this and that, but i eventually find my eyes on the ground again. that's where they'll stay for a while, i guess. and good for me, because i deserve nothing more but a brief infatuation, one that burns out quicker than a fickle flame dancing on a birthday candle wick. and the justice, i eluded it for so long, but now, it has caught me by the throat and the vengeance it's delivering is hard and relentless, like a bear that mauls for sport.
i got the chlorine in my eyes, joe, i got the chlorine in my eyes!
so where is he hiding, i know he's still alive, somewhere in here. i see everything, he's sending what he's got, like a tiny rebellion lead to kill me. but alas, unless he's saving his trump car, i assure you, there's nothing you can do to stop me. i'll kill everything he's got. flip-flops as hand grenades and papers towels as body bags, you're killing your best men. at for what, hatred? no, i think not. b/c we were once comrades, yes and you, my fiercest foe, are trying to awaken me with your green fanged battle cry. but i declare, sir, i am awake, and it is you that are evil. i will use my mega smasher to evaporate every last part of your being from this existence, and that my dearest friend, is a promise and a half.
my nostrils are dry! dammit! the chlorine, joe, the chlorine!
and now, blog readers across the board, i am obligated by my own words to go downstairs and watch a romantic comedy with my greatest of friends, and my loneliest of allies. basically just hanna, greg & eric, and jason if he's not playing final fantasy. alright bitches. hit me up, ya hear.

if porn were candy, i'd sell it to little kids

i haven't seen spider x in a while, wonder what he's planning. and when he's planning to take me down...