Wednesday, July 4, 2012

Life & Everything

Thursday, June 28, 2012

everything i s bullshit

what does it take to be a man? If you want to say something is cute, make sure you say it's fuckin cute.

what does it take to make a friend? I don't know, but I used too.

what does it take to be alone? Nothing, just lock yourself away and your emotions to.

what does it take to say a prayer? Knees, hands, faith.

what does it take to change? Must have friends and enemies to make a difference in yourself and the world, if you got neither do drugs.

what does it take to be wealthy? Be born lucky.

what does it take to live? Food.

what does it take to die? A mixture of courage, cowardice, and inner vacancy.

what does it take to die while living, live while dying? Fuck it, just throw yourself under a garbage heap and eat shit.

***At anytime, substitute you for me.

A CURE!to all the bullshit which is  e v e r y  t h i n g  :

-- manicdepressive blog posts

-- hardthumping bass guitar jam, dark soundscaping callus making

-- get away from food

-- the 70 s


Wednesday, May 23, 2012

The Thought Reading Drunk

I'm just a very ugly peel of unhappy
not speaking loud enough
looking down
you see me look and look and look
this ugly
I'm so ugly
Soon You will believe me
I have been beautiful you tell me
not up to you
shutup thought reading drunk
I've come Oranges
I'm Your third time
I linger The last time
I melt
You can’t see me shine
I'm just so half there
stunning first time makeup
believe its still me
can't can't You can't
tell if I'm I'm not I'm
not interested
and You look
look and You see
I was always
looking at you

Sunday, May 20, 2012

The guy was naked as he passed the bathhouse of girls who saw he was no clothed pervert so their towells stayed lieing on the floor

Tuesday, May 15, 2012

Social  failure.  Failure  socially.

Ugly  person.

Laughing  stock  in  their  minds.

Loser  loser  loser. Rip  my  throat  out.  Waste  of  words.  No  one  really  likes  me.  No  one  really

likes  me  alive.  Likes   me  dead.  Likes  me   dead.  ME  DEAD.  Wonderful  idea.  ME  DEAD.

Give  them  what  they  want.

Comprehension  of  spoken  words  so

s  l  o  w.  Connecting  with  anyone  won't  happen  at  my  pace  of  mind.  Example.  Don't  know

song  lyrics  to  my  favorite  bands. I  am  actually  retarded.  Why  didn't  anyone  catch  on  to


Turn  around. No  where  to

go  to  heaven  or  go  to  hell. Wherever  it  is  get  on  with  it.
It came back. Swiftly and Flawlessly. Would kill myself. But much to look forward to. Disappointment imminent. Yes this is a cry for help.

Tuesday, May 8, 2012

running running running running running running jogging jogging stopping walking walking
gasping gasping pacing pacing walking walking jogging running running sprinting tripping collapsing

Monday, May 7, 2012

working too hard at her


WHERE                     HAS          BLUE
GONE       TO                                                 TREAT
HER          A               THOUGHT
                  LEAPS OFF              A
CLIFF       OF             SE             X
TO             NIGHT     SE              VEN
TO             MORR      OW
INFREQUENCE       NE                 XT
AN            EAR          LOBAL
PROTE                                       ST

Where does depression go?

When the depression goes they have me feel belonged. When the depression goes there is something to look forward to. When the depression goes the body explodes flower joy. When the depression goes I can hear the birds chirping. When the depression goes life is so simple. When the depression goes it must be elsewhere. Today the clouds rain heavy so the depression must be there. When the depression comes I wish it never leave. When the depression goes I wonder why I was ever depressed. When the depression goes I'm in trouble. What comes up must come down. My sister calls me moodswing boy.

An exquisite corpse I take credit for.

the conceited poem

Who could say whether the thaw was complete?
The silence broke. Incendiary rain and thunder
Plastic palm trees
The 10%: responsive to the copied underworld
We drank cider at midnight, with thoughts of cinnamon trees.
the crisp crunch of gravel against shoe

One more cup of coffee every day until I’m dead

But only a clock can make a sound like that
Brontosaurus burgers at sunset
They will not dream of baboons and periwinkles
They remained dominant until the end.