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.