Captains Private Quarters

2009-08-25T13:26:00.001-07:00

everything is the way i would have it

thats an amazing feeling

i can only tell you to make an effort to make things your way

Eaten away

2009-06-26T15:06:00.000-07:00

...And so there it was in plain black and white, soy-based text on recycled print, and every line and cross-hatch brought back those memories. And then it was so clear, my revisit to the high school fantasy. How I wanted to take every bit of my minor agony and put it into you, mixing with your cataclysm and producing something so much more evil, destructive and wonderful than anything I ever imagined

But that is why its a fantasy, and not that this recipe has been followed with different results

And there you died, an object of desire

There is still time

Oh thats right

2009-06-13T08:11:00.000-07:00

I forgot that your confidence gets striped when your away from that camera

And so it comes

2009-06-10T10:35:00.000-07:00

A creeping mold has become my number one concern right now
Taking damage over time, exponentially growing
as mold often does
So where do we go from here?

What a Trip

2009-06-09T15:55:00.003-07:00

Seeing your pictures again after so long, I'd almost forgotten your face
Almost forgotten everything

And then it all came back to me like a wave crashing down

And what did i feel?

Like it never happened, desire, but only to relearn your name

Nervous Light

2008-05-06T07:17:00.000-07:00

guilt ridden Sunday morning, purged last night, impending purge tomorrow, comfort is not guaranteed, even the solace of white smoke does nothing for the sacrifice of character i make on a bi-weekly basis, something of an un-innocent sacrifice, hope the gods confuse it for the sweet girl left so long ago, leaving scratches in stone, leaving scratches in wood, ringing the bells and hoping someone hears, cursing constantly, curse you and all your cousins and that sacred doctrine of evolution, white powders only make you sweaty and nervous the confidence was all lost with the image you try to inhale, image imagine image imagining, purge, its almost like i forgot the memory of your smile, its almost like forgot that i am the neurotic one, its almost like i forgot anyone had any sort of tolerance for me, this is perfectionism, this is perfectionism combined with failure and a lack of support, though abundant in efficacy, its my efficacy that gives me the pride, the pride that gives me the confidence, the confidence that somehow seeps into the floor with the remains of a sugar-alcoholic mixture, staining black and red, burned, not scared, easily replaced, were all easily replaced, and yet there still was a point to all this, yet to be reached, one-quarter into the anti-climactic story, and i still forget that i never completed anything, not yet, not this sentence, not this story, not this feeling, but yet all the signs still tell me you all love me. thank you

two weeks notice

2008-04-23T10:16:00.003-07:00

Feed me a pill to make this time pass
But not the one that makes me forget
Just let me pass along everything
So i can be in her arms again

Blood on my hands

2008-04-21T12:04:00.000-07:00

Out out cursed spot. Not all the alcohol i drown myself in can remove you
Out damned spot, paranoia has sealed you on me with polyeurethane
Blood on my hands, What is the level below innocent
Where guilt is not even conceivable
Slain

One of those nights...

2008-04-09T20:32:00.000-07:00

That i'm really feeling the depths of my insanity.
that bullshit lie that im bi-polar creeps around in the back of my head like a stray dog
Bahhh, but im not going to do anything about it, i dont need to
What doesnt kill me can only make me stronger

Runners High

2008-03-13T08:38:00.000-07:00

Getting up early in the morning to run for what seems like forever has a fantastic way of slowing the rest of the day down. As you watch everyone else race on by stressed and in a hurry you know that you have plenty of time because you have already covered 6 miles this morning.

I believe i have reached that point in being single when your happy being independent. I look upon the couples around campus who you always see together and think how i do not want that. In fact last night I was in the company of a very cute girl who i could definitely date. But thats just not what i want in my life right now, and it feels good to know that and be very assured of it.

Spring Break approaches and i'm in the perfect state of mind for it.

For a Friend

2008-03-11T10:04:00.000-07:00

I know we were never especially close, but i was always honestly excited to see you at a party
You had a good heart and a hell of a daemon on your back
I don't know if you ever understood what happened, but you were born with that haunting spirit
and i hope that now you can finally find peace
Fuck all the people that will use you as a statistic
Fuck all the people who will use you as a counter point in their argument
and FUCK all the people who will pretend to be your friend for attention

But that is neither here nor there

I don't know a lot, but i know it wasn't easy.
We have all had a taste of what you were fighting
But it was a burden you had to bare alone.
I'm sorry that fate dealt you such a hand
But i really appreciate the way you made an impact here
Your impact will be felt
Rest in Peace

Crossfaded and re-released

2008-03-07T13:16:00.001-08:00

I often find myself very upset with the modern age, fantasizing about times when our lives were not a continuous stream of self-administered doses of stress. But every now and then there are these amazing moments of clarity when i realized what we gained from giving up what i would assume is the ideal lifestyle. (and if you've read Ishmael you know what lifestyle I'm talking about)

Todays moment of clarity was that I can have several gigs worth of music at my disposal at pretty much all times. Music from all sorts of genres from all over the world all sent to me in an instant, and soon i will be able to mix it and create new versions to share.

Do you ever have a moment when your listening to a song, usually your alone but it is the perfect song for that moment in time? For example its just the best song to be driving down the road that day as that it matches your emotions at that moment perfectly. This happens to me and i get this pleasurable sensation down my spine. It starts at the base and then goes up to the back of my skull and then i get a warmth that spreads out through my entire body. It is absolutely amazing. I like to pretend like I'm a primitivist anarchist, but i know quite well there is no way i could ever sacrifice my access to music, high quality speakers, and the many different ways to make many different types of music. I love it all

Schoolyard romance

2008-02-12T19:38:00.000-08:00

Thirteen, of course you were my beauty queen
The only one on the playground that was nice to me
You didn't know me then, not the way i am now
How i run the scene, learn and recite the tao

But then again now i'm nearly twice that age
little older, little wiser, minds still ablaze
with all sorts of manner of strange thoughts
but don't ever consider me one of the lost

Either way, i'm somewhat surprised
it only took three weeks for me to open my eyes
to see what is really was beneath
maybe you changed, or was a blade in your sheath

Superior, materialistic girl
so lost, caught up in her own world
say that we only talk about me
but at least i'm here, not somewhere you'd rather be

it reminds me of when i was under age ten
all day spent chasing the girls around the playpen
turning them over to the other side
nothing new, narc before age twenty five

point is i thought i had my finger on you
but then i realized this isn't what i want to do
i want something real something tangible
you are just an involved intangible

Whats confusing is that its not something open
maybe i don't notice cause i'm too busy dopin'
either way its all too clear now
we'll keep the line drawn, don't worry, i know how

Lessons Learned

2008-01-13T19:06:00.000-08:00

My father taught me to be emotionally distant
My mother taught me to be guilty about it
Cocaine taught me to always be confident
Heroin taught me how to be apathetic

ABV .18

2008-01-13T12:53:00.000-08:00

Taste your lips
Sweating out last nights sorrie
Questions circulating
I remember your drunk whispers
Clearly, cutting through my own alcohol haze
So is this interest or toying
Last time, another soul
Trust, Mistrust, All lost
Not enough to leave a scar
But the mark is still on my arm
So i haven't forgotten yet
Your too pretty
And your not a surgeon
It will be fun
Lets play a game

Shooting the lame horse

2007-11-18T00:50:00.001-08:00

Late night phone calls don't mean a thing
just someone drunk dialing, ring ring
its not an emergency
don't need to have anxiety
Its just another phone call
stop over interpreting
Phone line is dead
Pale and cold
waiting for the obituary to be read
Necrophiliac coroner stowed away for another day
But leave back the watch full eye
of the manager, and the security cameras in the sky
some call them stars
i call them lies
paranoia sets in, but i still think i can fly

Truths about life

2007-11-06T21:31:00.001-08:00

Sexual frustration breeds cynicism

or

Cynicism breeds sexual frustration

probably the first

Somehow alkaline trio is responsible for this

2007-11-06T08:09:00.000-08:00

To all those that used to be someone else
and for all those that miss someone who was destroyed
by addiction, emotion, the highs and lows
Those are the things that change people to in a irreconcilable level
And its not just chemicals and barroom fights
The man who makes a beast of himself
Loses all the pain of being a man

Thats all, good day

Said the shotgun...

2007-10-08T20:03:00.000-07:00

After swimming through the river
caught a few leeches and a bad shiver
thought that the water, so cold
would help me be so bold
but no, all i do now is quiver

its like the thoughts that race around my head
that fever, that sense of dread
My mind leaping over the tops of trees
spreading my internal disease
its these words i want to shed

Its me, the river and the trees
the birds and the bees
the xo's and the skeez
everything, interconnected
everything, disconnected
yet even the river seems misdirected

scatterbrained, like a shotgun put to the head
and it said, never think your better off dead
I know im an instrument of death and deviance
but theres wisdom in my black barrel, but even this is,
pointless i tell you, quit all your whining suicidal
live in this moment I give to you, waves tidal
Must wash over you, this moment is so vital
just like every other moment i give
all i want you to do is live

And so i kick my feet, keep my head above the water
shotgun, long gone, preemptive slaughter
thinking of the days that have passed
and how it compares and contrasts
as the earth gets hotter and hotter

Under the infulence of alcohol: please excuse

2007-10-06T21:25:00.000-07:00

I got 16 bars to heal these scars
And its not as extensional as the stars
You wanna mess with me
Wanna get down
Well ill tell you whats up
Its that i tear you down
You know my love is cancer
So i don't need to explain myself
not to that girl, her self
Im just running dry
Coping on the opiates, myself
It's like i can't forget about your name
just a whore to me, but it makes no difference all the same
I wish i could pretend that i never had a game
but you know i play this every single day
so i call you on the phone
alcohol loosing my lips
when all i want is a single kiss
your lips my lips, electric is what it is
And i can't help but feel a little ashamed
cause my boys are telling me, don't back that game
But thats half the fun, you always were
forbidden love, i tell em shes my girl
And when I'm with her im on top of the world
so maybe one day ill let my guard down
pretend I'm not so g, not so hard now
and we'll get a little house some where by the beach
where those arms don't reach
and that where ill teach
you the ways of love
shit i learned from up above
Things you didn't even knew i know
There is the place that we will grow
and i cant even remember these lines
I'm just spitten em out in the best time
so you know its all the straight from the heart
No matter neither
With you is the place i want to be,
If not, you know ill be the griever

2007-10-06T13:51:00.000-07:00

I don't know how you didn't see when you met me
That my eyes burn green, constantly, with envy
so restless, you know i could never just let it be

You act like I don't know the color of my words, black
Like a Ginsu knife, guaranteed to cut you or your money back
And yet i wonder why you give me flack

From a young age i was brought up
Never let one hurt me
so i get caught up
In always making sure i get you back
for that minor flesh wound, or a little smack

This is all related to the paper stacks
The cocaine, loose change and gun racks
This is why i never hold back

It's a shame i pray to nothing
I guess myself, but i show no mercy
And that might be the saddest thing that i've lost faith
but i promise you it wont be over till im in the grave

2007-10-06T11:12:00.001-07:00

Sometimes i just sit and watch the rain
Sit back and reflect on all this pain
Think about what i have left to gain
Thinking id just be better off slain

But i wont die easy, i wont die fast
I always try to make this bullshit last
always treating death like an outcast
made living out of being asked...

stupid questions
motives, no meaning
wines got me leaning
but no depressants can stop me from dreaming

I feel like an animal inside a cage
Throwing life away
but still filled with so much rage

and yet I'm looked too like i have an answer
your looking in the wrong place, blood
don't you know my love is like a cancer?

Ill slowly eat away at you
but you'll never know your dying
one by one those mutant cells are multiplying

so don't look to me, like I'm gonna fulfill your dreams
I'm just trying to stay alive, and not act too mean
its not that i don't wanna be what you think
its just too high of expectations
I'm always on the brink

of taking my own life, or maybe someone else's
its almost sad, i feel so helpless
but it's nothing new, to me or anyone
paranoid, theres never that someone

So this is the end, but not of life
ill drag that on and on, too scared of the knife
living of fear and maybe adrenaline
a taste of that sweet shit, heroin

and thats how ill get by
day by day
just don't look to me like i'm gonna say...

what you wanna hear

Tumor for a Scar

2007-10-01T17:40:00.001-07:00

Sometimes i think i live in a world of delusions
But im a simple man who seeks truth
Or maybe just tears apart my old revelations
I know three things now were a lie
The funny thing is the one person who it matters to
never listens, always assumes their own conclusions are best
Despite what they say. Is it hypocracy? Its impossible to tell
People are best left alone in their own heads
Despite how i love to take ice picks to skulls and drill some truth in
But they never listen
They dont want to listen
They want the happiest truth there is
And really, what better medicine is there than the faith healer
But the faith healer only does what you can already do yourself
Except you eliminate yourself as the opting force

Its that self that refuses to die, too many starved revelations and changing brain chemistry
Not even narcotic, though had i not written this line it what you would have assumed

Self fulfilling prophecy is ironically not caused by your own thoughts

Look at what you transmit, telegraph and tell me your counterpoint lies dont sent that message

I should have been done with this years ago, but i suppose it will never go
And dont pretend that im sad, i say this only tired, as we all get in the evening
Just after a day of coping with deadlines and others and thankless work, that we can still come home with a smile on our face, just tired

take care of yourself 7 days a week? impossible, i need a break from my own seriousness
I like everything to be serious
Why else would i joke all the time

So ill take a tumor in place of a scar, easier to hide, but i know thats not the way it would be if my narcissistic ego superseded.

we all die alone

2007-09-05T23:18:00.000-07:00

I can't but feel that typical reaction at this point
without my 201 mile security blanket i'm left facing the reality of the situation
Maybe its just depressing, depressants, maybe its just the minor tone
Maybe its that overcast tone that has hid in the shadows all my life
Maybe its that shape watching me, waiting till i drop my guard

willing to turn my back to the walls, and forget everything ive ever feared
maybe its time i turned past this childish bullshit
but i know i never will

identity is confusion, those preferences that make you
The primal screamer is still buried inside me
deeper than deep

Never have i ever

2007-09-05T23:14:00.000-07:00

Felt so complete and incomplete at the same time
That conflicting emotion that feels like i'm running in place
its the arpeggio, its the climax, its the modulation
all rolled in one

I am the breakbeat, i am the snare hit on the offbeat
that accent, that lost noise

You are the dischord, disharmony that moves the peice along

Together, we become something greater than has ever been heard before

Its almost like minor key tone was invented for our melancholy, for our fall

add tax in America

2007-08-12T22:14:00.000-07:00

Standing there, palms sweating, heavy hand
wishing i knew, a stronger man
Never thought it would end in a stand
One night, no m'am, neverland

you knew we were forbidden, half the turn on
played with luminence, forplay to the wrong
wrong only excisted in those forgetting minds
Alchohol, never wrong, forget these lines

I never knew i felt like this
Forget that, just forgot with a kiss
Hoped i would never be hit or miss
Holding it, inwith it, make you my miss
loveable, holdable, callupon this
Something i never thought would make me wish

for this, you, standing with me
wanting everything, pardon lili
-um, such a name, so fake, like that fake,
who took me for such a ri-
de, do or die, me never want to justify
with clipped wings, its so hard to fly

but i play my own birdkeeper to the zoo
never thought that this would happen,

let me woo

over you, for a time, i wish i could rhyme

girl so special, melt the world, just her self
so glad im not doing time
This is the rhyme that puts in time
all the shit, never hit, running circles in my mind

Lack of recent posts leaves me with a false sense of security

2007-08-06T06:08:00.001-07:00

I hate that I'm still dealing with the same bullshit i had to do deal with when i left her. The calls, at least this time it was in the day, making some outrageous unsubstantiated claim. You think, subtlety would be a good tactic, try and dig information out of me so that i dig my own grave. No, its just raw emotion, raw stupidity, because every time before it has been wrong. And that is why she never reveals the source

now thats not really all that important, Meagan being emotional and irrational

why does it still bother me so much. usually i can shrug off her immature bullshit with a laugh and a coy glance at a cute girl but this time its stuck with me.

Photographs lie more in the digital age

2007-07-10T07:12:00.000-07:00

Looking at those photographs
So perfect when displayed
Its so easy to think of you as the prettiest girl

But then i remeber the hand behind the camera
The hours you spent
Making those pictures perfect, so people call you photogenic

Your disease sickens me
Its so lovely to juxtapose
Though you infected me once, antibiotics, anticoagulants, modern medicine

I juxtapose with this girl who keeps on showing up in my dreams
Everyone tells me, shes much prettier in person
I say, yeah, she has her own style, sense of fashion, personality

She is your opposite, one i've had
Rest paranoia, you spend so much time in anger, confusion
That you missed the point again

Im guessing its just withdrawls

2007-06-19T06:07:00.000-07:00

I cant even think for a second without triggering the ultraviolent response

i dont know what it is

wait, yes i do

I hate cowards

The Game

2007-06-13T06:03:00.000-07:00

Money, drugs, no sleep, highs and lows. I finally found the holy grail, which smells exactly like methylone, but tastes like its going to kill me. Im spitting bills out like i was printing em, while only pulling 150 a week at work, Im tiny, darfur tiny.

Yet it doesnt mean a goddamn thing to me, not any one of them because i knew when i started this charade that none of these things could ever bring me what i considered happiness, unless i can measure out my friends happiness in metric units. Point is, its a poor mask for whats going on underneath. Of course i always think i look more fucked up than i really lead on.

Cops were sitting on ross' house this morning, i think that means its time to lay low for a while, and make a motion of trust i may not normally make, hopefully my horoscope agrees with me.

Ever since saturday i can't tell you if im living or dying, probably both, but either way some comfort/sleep would be amazing right now, even if its only more chemical comfort/xanax

its the most commonly perscribed anxyolitic for a reason!

Love like Blood

2007-06-08T09:14:00.000-07:00

I dont know what im doing anymore, it feels so good, but it doesnt feel RIGHT anymore, but i cant deny that id hold her forever if i had the chance to. So what does that all mean, it feels like theres some deeper meaning just beyond my fingertips. But maybe thats just it, i want whats beyond my grasp. Its almost impossible to say that i can find someone else, at the time of course, when i touch her skin its like volts running through my body, i havent felt that before and i dont imagine its easy to find, but its like i should say, GO TRY! if you find it then you know whats true. But thats not an option, one cant have a control in life, which is horrible, i need scientific accuracy in my life.

Thursday Night often blurs into Friday Morning .or. Segregated Meditations

2007-06-08T06:39:00.000-07:00

Chugging black tea like it might cure a disease
Does nothing to clear up the confusion in my head
Why must the mind be vertically opposed to the heart
With no gearbox in between
So that both can find a common direction
And this dissonace can stop, not feel like an infection
So maybe there is a disease im trying to cure
With holistic medicine and a human spirt
Sometimes the body can no longer bear it
When such symbiotic parts run in opposite circles

Ironically

This parrallels my American symbiote
But one can see symphonies in a reflecting pool
with a proper imagination, and no respect for the laws of light
But ive always been a law breaker

Conclusion

Im torn in twain
Both havles racked with guilt
My only option seems to be the powder soul suicide
But thats only a vacation into the world of fight or flight
Temporary reprise

There is nothing decifered in these meditations

Flood

2007-05-24T15:37:00.001-07:00

Like a levee breaking
Drowning the Town
The wretched fall on their knees in a selfish final repentance
And i stand on main street
Arms raised, confident cause I know i can swim
Welcoming the waters to rush around me
Rebirth me
Give me that new life free of sin
I feel the love of the old testament god
I am jonah in the belly of the leviathan

The sky clears and the town lays wasted
Im ready

Straight

2007-04-26T15:13:00.000-07:00

Theres a great many things i dont understand. I keep being reminded of Pat saying, theres an important reason you say shit like that, humans cant be held accountable for all their actions. Yet it seems ive made a lifelong habit of being accountable for all of mine. I feel the need to, its as if my honesty has been this compulsion to make sure everyone knows every mistake ive made, and that doesnt ever seem to work in my favor, but i view the opposite as lying. Perhaps that false front we all put up, and i try so hard to tear down is there for a reason, life is simply easier that way. Drugs confuse me alot too, alot of my current problems stem from two stubborn ideas i placed in my head with Mindy, never quit drugs because a girl tells you to, because he asking shows a lack of understanding, and that if you have to quit, there is something wrong with you. I refuse to quit because quitting is accepting that im a junkie, and ill be damned before i admit that again, I know its not true, it just relates back to the aformentioned, where i feel this need to confess all my problems, take all my punishment. Meagan troubles me more than anything. I feel like with her, that im in race, or rather at the starting line, and i know the prize is something i want, and theres people in the crowd who i need to impress, but thats another problem, but the gun fires and i have no idea which direction to run, and everyones yelling at me to go, but that doesnt help at all, like a child again, confused on the playing feild, feeling the impending shame because it seems so obvious to you after its all over, with dad standing over you telling you how dumb it was and how dissapointed he is in you. So fucking obvious after the fact, so confused then. I hate that she calls me weak, and i hate that she calls me selfish, i hate all the hypocracy in our relationship and i believe it is what drives me to do the dumb shit i do more than anything else. I really dont feel i do all that much wrong, i fucked up majorly once, but for the most part ive worked really fucking hard, to do everything i know to do to make a successfull relationship, and she claims to have all this pain and whatnot, but really ive been the glue thats held us together from the start. Im just troubled i suppose, it seems like with mindy, and with what i can tell, meagans ex's to her, that there were so many mistakes, and so much forgiveness, and so much forgetting, but now it never goes away, and not just her. I feel like my real selfish act is keeping her with me, i wonder sometimes, maybe it would be better for her not to be with me, but i think thats wrong because i spend so much effort trying to make her happy and for the most part being a good boyfriend, signifigantly better than those i see around me, except for tommy, with the exception of his clingyness and fear he was perfect. I admire Tommy for so many reasons i cant even count them all, he has such a great outlook on life most of the time, and his uses anger only when its appropriate and he just always seems to be polite and doing the right thing, and i want to be like that, but i guess thats not me, i dont know if im this troubled fucked up kid or if thats just what i want to be, all ive read about this semester in what seems like every class except literature is that you are what you think you are, and if you just think differently you will be so. Logically then it seems like i just dont think that way. Spending time admiring is not wasted, but i shant spend it wishing, i have my advantages, i think i do sometimes. I know i can love, and i know i can write, and i know i can be a good friend sometimes, but i really wish meagan would realize how unattractive i am, she seems to worry so much about other people wanting me or whatever and its just not the way it is, lord knows why she thinks im attractive, lord knows how we've stayed together this long. THIS IS NOT LIKE ME at all, to do what ive done for her, to be the first to apologize, to do all the things i do for her daily, without thought, that i would and have never done before, which is why i almost have to keep myself from laughing, but moreso from crying when she says i cant change, she doesnt even have a clue what the change is i did for her, the decision i made nearly 8 months ago when i told myself i wasnt going to fuck this one up. I kinda screwed that up, and who knows if this will work out, I REALLY have faith that we can make it if we make it till summer,. till we make it to when we can acually be together, and forget all this. Well have her forget it, i hope to never forget it, and i dont think i will, if anything, Meagan is the proof of that i learned my lessons from Mindy, because those mistakes i made with her i never made with Meagan, i suppose except for the broken promise, but that just leads to drugs which is a whole nother question. I think i play it up to much, on one hand i want to be this tortured junkie, on the other i want to be strong, but most of us are divided anyway. This is more therapeudic than poetry could ever dream to be, just straight talk with myself, the inner dialouge coming out on paper, or screen rather. The meditation today was so calming, and its been so long since ive done it, and i really need to do it again, because when i was mediating, i was calm, and when im not im just irrational, and unhappy and really unaccountable. That was what the lotus was all about, and i keep forgetting it, i keep thinking i need ot change it, but i dont need to change it, i need to remeber it, i dont need to change for meagan, i need to remeber what i have forgotten, and with that, im reminded because it feels like im back in the car, i knew which way to run, but when the pressure was put on, when i had people counting on me, i blanked, i always fail when people are counting on me, and i hate it so much, that self loathing, was there before any of this, and still is, i feel like alot of people are being torn between two poles, but are they as torn as i am? its impossible to tell, its impossible to tell anything, fuck, i bet right now, meagan is struggling to smile and be nice to some cunty customer, thinking of how horrible it feels to be fake...which brings me back, why i have to take all my mistakes, because it feels horrible to be fake, i guess some people can hack it, like how some people can cheat, and some people can steal, but i just cant do that shit. Like all good druggies i can experiment, but i cant be an addict, i dont have the amoral consitution, and so i need to quit treating myself like i dont. Somehow its all related back to when i was dealing i feel like, i was so fucking repressed, always hiding my motives, intentions, emotions, being hard, being tough no fear, no matter what, and no its like im an emotional mess, like all that institutionalization has come undone because i suppose im lucky to have never been institutionalized in a hard way. Always having to take a taste. Fuck me, i feel so exasperated, the anaology is so perfect, because it feels like i need to do something right now, but i havent for the life of me got any idea what it is, every turn looks so uninviting, normally id just go into self destruction here, i can feel it, but that part of me has been long repressed in the last month as much as school has made me question shit, the combination of school and the mistake has taught me how to control that self destruction which i am more greatfull for than anything else. But that could just be today, who fucking knows, i was so close to killing myself when i was dissociated, and no one even knows, but then again thats the nature of dissociatives, because to be fair i could never have even known. The worst feeling ever is the feeling that im being selfish by keeping Meagan, like with Mindy, that i just kept staying there, and things got worse and worse, because i couldnt man it up enough to hurt them. But who knows where that girl is, she could be miserable right now. Its going to be very intrestering to see how my metaphorical car ride turns out.

"So Freud was right"

2007-04-26T10:18:00.000-07:00

I can't help but feel im stuck in a prophetic dream

In a hospital you sit across me, in denial
Platlets dry on my skin, brown, but thats no ones worry
You scream at me to alieviate your sickness
Inadvertantly spitting a bitter powder that collect
Into a clean pile, on the glass table that seperates us
You, well aware of my love of bitter powders
But yet forgetting that its been years since ive loved
The poetic beauty in laying awake all night
Curious as to if my heart arythems are fatal or not
I moved past that years ago, and only in my concious memories
Can i find patience to let the blood flow
You tell me the free cells, fighting and dieing is only my fault
Yet i vigoursly maintain that the only blood on my wrist
Has been from broken knuckles and cut fists
Inside my mind, i call you veiled, raging fire
Incinerates all chance of whatever escapes my mouth
How does a fire burn atop glass in a sterile setting
Oxygen rich enviroment, most likely answer

You forgot how the challenger became a tragedy

Prophecy

2007-04-24T19:33:00.000-07:00

Years after the axe comes down, my prophecy fufilled, your self realized, you will see me on the stage, in that display you claim to hate, of course you never appreciated what it was that i wanted to be appreciated for, never speaking in absolutes, nevertheless starved for sex appeal slowly eating myself from the inside out, highest mortality rate, killing myself in the delusion that if i were only slightly more appealing then all would be settled and you would love me eternally, because no matter how deep i dive i can never shake the feeling that this is all just so shallow, we are all just so shallow, venturing into the grown up pool, three feet deep, discussing how scary IT WOULD BE if your feet didnt touch the bottom, and im not going to lie, ill say i swim in the deep end, but i only swim beneath the bulkheads in mock suicides, scaring only the lifeguards, meth life, stay awake, not for the high, for the paranoia, i know you love it so, i know you love those mascara boys so, i know you love it all so, and you just deny deny deny deny, like we all do, cause we all lie, we all have those faces we never show, and those masks, closet kept, we love to know that they are there for us, for when we need to lie, love, hook up, cry, comfort, die, or just risk it one more time in some hallucinogen existential meltdown, battered wife, two black eyes, and your drunk again, telling me dont make me tell you again, cause i wont listen, because i cant hear you through the slurs, counting down the nights as i say i wont take one more.

Dopamine Hangover

2007-04-24T13:10:00.000-07:00

Left so fast like a morning storm, thats gone before you wake
But left the streets still flooded, drowning your waking joy
Chemistry answers the questions in my mind
Providing me with an explanation to satisfy the vortex
But i thought somehow i was above this, beyond this
I thought we all, were above and beyond these dopamine answers
Never having taken my emotions for more than annoyances
Perhaps these latent answers are just voicing themselves loud enough
Tired of being left in the back of class with their hand raised
Still to me, seems somewhere south of childish
Punch drunk destruction rages, lymbically driven, mothers divison
This is my dissoance, this is my question, raised too many times before
But never in the clear voice of the heavens has it been spoken before
And so i revert back, to the start of all this, lapis lazul menagerie
Seeking for those to have the control i can never have myself
Still, 20 years later, looking for that lost sense of control
Memories spring forth, never met a junkie without control issues
But i know that is only the word haunting me, as it haunted me before
I slew that ghost, anxiety implosion, and i know now this is normalcy
Or these are the lies i use as antihistamines, secondary functions to a primary purpose
I thought as the literary allusions send a cold chill down my spine
That i was being reborn, through symbolism, but there is no rebirth
Only forgiving yourself, and deluding yourself
My rebirth showed my what started this all, marks tried to cover
Ended in vanity, illusions and obsessions, turned destructive
But there was no recourse then as there is no recourse now
Moving foward, awaiting the axe, this is no way to live
But id much rather die to pretend i didnt learn from my mistakes

And its as if with the rebirth i felt the phoenix inside me rise
Surfacing hate bubbling over causing a new red tide
That weight suddenly seems so much more capable to bare
And where does that leave you, me, anything or anyone

Exacerbating Clinical Problems and their relation to Genetics

2007-04-19T07:51:00.000-07:00

I wish i could say when i hear that oh so common tone in the early hours
That my heart jumped with jubilation, and often i feign it so as i respond
But often as I answer i hear that slightly dropped tone, and your own sublte lie
It never takes long, i can tell by the false front of libido
You must hate yourself when you want me, because it always seems to preceede the start
Stonewalled from the start, cursed if i try to defend, what you lack in logic
You make up in tactics learned from your own house, sublte is not the key word
I never know whether to fight or run, either way it never ends until your done

and it never seems to be done

Too many times ive laid down against what i felt was RIGHT
Morals you claim i don't have because of a past mistake
Let's recollect your mistakes and compare them to mine
Let's juxtapose your heart with mine, competition is the voice of love
You are too gone to know that your taking my legs out from under me
chopping away slowly with a dull axe, and its curious to know
whether you lean on me, or no, i imagine you don't even know
I want to say wait for the blackout, but your constitution is strong

Mounting frustrations surrmounted by that morning after

When your clear cut voice apologizes, and speaks of true love
Truly i feel as if dealing with a Jekyl and Hyde, no suprise
The truth is the most hurtful thing i could say, and so far its withheld
And undoubtly will be forever, theres no reason to bother to tell
No, that is not me, that is my own Hyde speaking, my own swift cane
Supression was never my intention, and neither was pain
I wish i could speak of this as if it were a new revalation, but alas
Its not, nothing new, new subjects on old paragraphs, analysis?

You know the problem as well as I, treatment, abstiance, denied

Now im only drawing lines in the sand, 200 miles away from you
Debating as to which one should be the one i said i just drew
Sadly, and perhaps for the benifit, ill never pick just one
But draw pentagrams, while i slip off to troubled, frustraded dreams
(Slip as in the action that precedes the fall, not the gentle folkway)
Dream of you, and hope those things you said were not true
Maybe thats the part that hurts the most, that truth comes out with drink
Mutual cutting preceeding masturbation, a masochists dream

But i have since forsaken, that particular lie, my dreams still await me

So many meanings to the word lye

Last race

2007-04-14T13:17:00.000-07:00

Your too beautiful for me
I knew that the first time i saw you on the screen
youve deluded yourself into me

youve got a funny way of showing off your bathroom surgery
i dont know if i ill ever understand the look behind those eyes

maybe theres just something wrong with me
a reduction of the 5-htp
those easily overlooked effects that i said id never care about again

give me those invincible days for just a second and i wont spend these days seeking to numb my wayward thoughts, give me that old excitement, that you could never quell, regression was yesterdays word, for todays, ill have to yell

2007-04-11T05:17:00.001-07:00

so filled with confusion, hate and love
i have no idea what to do anymore
i dont know whats real

i never knew who i was

fuck sleep

2007-04-10T23:26:00.000-07:00

I want to delete everything
I want to delete all of this right now
Self loathing peak?

Fuck you

Poetry is supposed to make you look dark and cool

2007-04-06T10:32:00.000-07:00

Shes my cuddlebunny
And im not ashamed of it
comfort contact so perfect
never will i find a better fit

Shes sweeter than cupcakes
Getting blasted in your face
so delicious, pink frosting
but never with any mal-ace

Her eyes are brown, but never plain
like a brilliant mica stone
full of infinite colors
I look to them and know im home

Its easy to fall in love
with a girl such as this
ill stay with her forever
when im away, dreaming of her kiss

She

2007-04-05T17:06:00.000-07:00

Love everything, more than i could ever ask for

My only question left is if i can ever be what she deserves, ill have to try like hell, but ill always fall short and be happy to do so

Supercharged Emotions

2007-04-05T09:45:00.000-07:00

We say in addictions that drugs are to be thought of as the equivelant of superpowered emotions. Yet right now i feel worse than if i had been on a 4 day meth binge, i have never in my life felt this tired, worthless, and unwilling to go on. Even now, i feel like it would be so much better to just crawl into bed and die, i cant even walk around campus without fighting back a flood of tears, i cant sleep, i cant eat, i cant think,

maybe the action itself was the suicide and this is all just the fallout, slow acting poison

Object Permanence

2007-04-05T01:12:00.000-07:00

I drove and drove and drove
and never went anywhere
circular logic for cycles of emotion
its too easy too get too depressed at this stage

No poetry, no prose, its time for just a straightforward with yourself. You have all this self-loathing and you thing thats going to redeem you, like someone can see WOW he really hates himself, that means hes a decent person, no, a decent person doesnt do that in the first place

but wait it was a mistke? doesnt everyone make mistakes? or do decent people just not make mistakes

damn my honesty

damn all this fucking hate

damn now, being the time we need to acually see each other, and being 200 miles apart, the distance isnt hard, id drive it everyday, unfortantly somepoint id flunk out of school, and have spent all my money on gas

but ill tell you whats going to happen, without me, without the connection whose range has fallen due to a series of unforseen consquence, and believe me, they were unforseen, things are going to fall about, doubt it going to rise and for fucks sake i cant even lend my voice to drain some of it away, everyone fucking hates me in my homeland so i drove north, i found the new feilds unsuitable for tilling and now im fucking homeless

mostly i want an answer for myself, and i dont think ill be able to give myself one, and thus returns the self-loathing, goddamn, no less than 7 hours ago i felt redeemed, as if it anything were possible as if forgivness, the truest form of love had reigned, and yet here im am with it all seeming to amount to a little more than a handfull of salt. I know in my head that these cycles will lengthen out, making them easier to cope with, and eventually rid themselves and i can move it to the learning experience folder of my head, but this one isnt going as fast as all the others. from someone who doesnt "get" self mutilation i sure cut myself deep, im bleeding black, i think i knicked the liver, we'll know in 20 minutes

dissoance is the word of the day

sleep it seems will never come easy, not for now

i need to confess to someone, i need some unconditional love right now, i need to feel like i am still decent and worth loving, notions of god seem more realistic but ill be fucking damned if ill pray for myself, others sure, but i refuse to pray for myself

like a fucking relapsing alcoholic, it feels good to fail and be hated again, its comfortable, you dont have to expect much and you dont have to do anything, just know everyone around you sees you for what your labeled as, because lets be honest, you are what your labeled as. (Stop trying to fucking romance the situation, stop trying to rationalize, stop trying to understad, there is nothing to be sought in what you seek)

if she can never love me like she used to, is there a point? is this really forever? are mistakes forever and love temorary? if thats true theres no way in heaven you can keep me here in hell a second longer

pale blue

2007-03-30T22:15:00.000-07:00

As if the imaginary marks around your neck weren't enough...

casting its glow over me, entraping the self loathing and pity
love, lust, anger, angst, resent, hate
pondering poly-imagerys over a cold cup of black coffee
weak embered rave lights dance with no backbeat
with the rain gone and sky, cloud filled
becomes that nightlight shade of grey
and im already missing the rain, though my feet are cold
my writers buzz, dual-ine my desire for the lost comforts of sleep
lost 8 years ago, one faithfull night, scarred on my imagination
self-medications are lost among the seekers
astetics are lost among acetics, who dream wearily of acetone washed skin
compressed, dried, painted, the fictional whore

Rember that old white whore?
your old muse?
your old cure for the daily bore
do you remember all the sorrow she left in your heart
do you remember how everything almost fell apart

but by gods grace of emotional health it all held together
Your sign of health has triggered your old whores love reborn
phoenix rise, burned out symbol, symbolic of the scares in your grey matter

what does it matter, night lost only in conneotations
infinity gained in self-discovery

Disillusionment

2007-03-27T16:47:00.000-07:00

Open window

Why do the people below think im going to jump

Im gonna fly mother fucker

anxiolytic induced para-sympathies

2007-03-23T12:31:00.000-07:00

No sleep, Dream lies no longer seduce me
I stay awake, my reality, eternity
Shadow people become my friends
enlightening, sympathies
The creatures of the night never haunt my dreams
For i only dream the dreamless sleep

Slave to the backbeat, blurring anxieties-
decomposed to a second year synthesis
Love remarked on its eternity
As one, we say nay, and continue to slave

Full on hallucinations, personal reality
I love my dreamy sleep, your awake
Body moves, eyes see, and subjectivity becomes reality
Pans dark nemisis, two-handed, stalks me
Once my friend, turned back, prefrontal stress
Awake Awake Awake Awake

Inflatable Mistress

2007-03-22T14:40:00.000-07:00

I killed Pope's god and burned his forsaken knowledge
Took every fairy from my dreams
and showed them the haunting blue glow
It's hard not to smile as I watch them kill themselves
It's because my new god killed them
And my new god shows his love everyday to me
In my own quip smiles and sarcasm
In my distaste, displeasure and skeptisism
The Fruedian dream cycle is shattered by my hypnotic sedatives
I'll claim your lucid dream lies are only hallucinations
I'll claim your fantasies as my own sadist joys
While i rape the corpses of the fairies, orgasming with their final convulsions

Yet all pretentious joy is short lived

Time, the healer, and the monarch soon declares me guilty of my crimes
Luckily he is a wise monarch and knows that the crime punishes itself
Rationalization will never stand the test of time
For only lost in fantasy will we find the time to pass
Will we create the eutopian vision free from my daydream opiate hallucinations
Stimulated pathways show the same patterns regardless of its orgin
And once again I find my crime punishes itself
Without my flagellation im filled with only self-loathing
Science, my new god and mistress has failed me again in spirt
But i will always find better living through chemistry

Self - Esteem

2007-03-09T07:59:00.000-08:00

You bruise so beautifuly
All the colors of the rainbow
The orange highlights your eyes
The deep navy brings out your thighs

Ill leave my mark on you
Youll love me forever
Youll scream "hit me"
As long as i tell you your pret-ty

Cycle of abuse, power, control,
Love, Respect, Never let go
I love it when your yellow the next day
I hope your bruises never go away

Addiction Society

2007-03-03T14:30:00.000-08:00

There is a direct physiological reason for all this
Yet none of you listen
So why do you watch the world on TV

Maybe ill stop trying to save you
little chance of that
I pray to the new god, the medical god

He is my master and he andswers all my prayers
knowledge in place of faith
Yet ill still lose, because im always trying to fix you

Il Faut pt. 1

2007-02-28T11:25:00.000-08:00

Sometimes it all seems so simple. Often these are the times when my hands are busy tilling some metaphorical soil or filling the blanks with word bank answers. Other times, often when the division of labor which has created such a convience for us all, has left me with nothing to do but attempt to fill my mind with that unending 21st century desire for something new i find myself increasinly unsatisfied with the world at hand. I find myself unsatisfied with the balance of chemicals in my head. The media machine might be telling me im amused, but i assure you i am not amused. Even since i was young i prefered the chemical satisfaction. That satisfaction you can only get when theres an influx of the right compentents in your brain, often following something our primal anchestors would have found to be quite an accomplishment for their day. When each day brings the threat of survival its very easy to be satisfied, and its very easy to not worry about how others will survive. It's a shame we left that world so long ago.
We all want our story on paper. The story of our life. That fanciful narritive that explains who we are and how we became to be. That story that really shows the inner beauty and the complexities of our character. So i guess in that respect i am not unlike anyone else, i am obsessed with my self image, with this imponderable creation called "me." Id like to say that everyone else is to, but i can not say that with any certainty. Already im disgusted with myself, trying to put to paper what ive thought a thousand times before, so obsessed with the idea that others will read this and either patronize me or just laugh to themselves. Im afraid others wont see this complicated narritive of "me" and see the depth and beauty and complexities. True humor stems from their being an incongruency in the real world and the percieved world. Perhaps this is why my fear exists, because i know that there is no beautiful narritive, not for me and not for anyone else. This is the dialoge of the isolation of the true self from the real world.
In a world of increased communication, where even now, i find that i can talk to anyone i choose to in many different mediums in a matter of seconds and yet i find this extreme sense of isolationism. Perhaps its the methods we use, these impersonal tools of communication that allow us to speak without having to take that mininmal risk of facing someone. One does not even have to face the enemy anymore, we can bait them from a safe distance, forever antagonizing ourselves as that we are all the enemy to someone else.
These are the circular dialoges that only come about when im lowering my sense of spatial reality in the undying quest to find god. The fractal images played infront of my cornea only add accent to the multimedia thoughts. That sense of purpose or reason that our neo-cortex could utilize to explain all the suffering we feel and somehow die with a sense that justice was served. I think back to anatomy, trying to remeber the location of the common carotid artery and explore the various theorized locations with a knifepoint in a recreation of a suicide attempt that i never attempted. The irony strikes me as i recall i never took anatomy. Maybe it was just a page of Grey's pasted in a dark stylish manner in a dorm room, or back bedroom somewhere. It's almost exasperating how this cycle takes place, not just the delusion, the search from god, but the repression as i find myself in these dramatic thoughts and yet i will never act, not now at least. I dont trust myself to act on any radical idea, yet somehow they seem like the most sane and rational thoughts. Revolutions, revolutions being waged inside my grey matter and yet i dont believe them at all, the bloodshed is a consequence of gods love and ill be damed if im open to change. I wipe my face with my sleeve, thinking somehow that this actors gesture of of clearing my mind will somehow have some placebo effect on me. I quiet the thoughts and breathe deep, sigh, and stand up. Knowing that tonight will not be the night the gunfire stops.
Inside, i find that fortune is on my side and drink down the cool confidence, the false sense of security and my failed sleep aid. Something which undoubtly causes me just as much trouble as the faith i put into it. But for know, im just enjoying the company, the peace you only find when your mind is filled with idle chatter and good company. Im either returning to baseline or becoming accustomed to my new reality and sink into another night of mindless peace.
The light hits my eyes, meaning it can only be 10 am. My thoughts are still scattered but at least at a functioning level now and i begin a routine which is centered around taking care of myself rather than simply whatever tangent entertains me the most. Theres a subtle desire that springs up as i pour boiling water in my morning ritual, perhaps triggered by the idea of the stimulation im about to enjoy perhaps triggered by nothing at all. Most days are just like any other day for most people i imagine. Routine seems to be comforting, it might explain why people prefer repitition. I conclude with something slightly different, although not all that different from anything else i did that day, but go out and take in the silence and birdsong. In this day, you dont find totally silence, the tranquility of nature, but you find peace in distance or even nearby cars passing, the wind moving over them is almost as soothing as water splashing on rocks in a shallow creek if you listen to it in the right way. Its all a matter of perspective, and these dusky walks often are a matter of remidning myself of what perspective it is i choose to have for the person i chose to be today. Its almost astounding how many choices we make without conciously bringing them to our thoughts each day. This morning i decided what i was going to be today. Althought i had many choices, i usually opt between what disgusts myself, yet somehow i sleep better at night, and that which i might feel is a more accurate description. Only in later years do i realize the latter choice was merely a product of many small deciosions i made each day and some very ill imformed advice, (either way it turned out to be an outright lie). Of course, it can only be an outright lie in the reflective sense, because at that time, that day, it was very real.
Reality hits me like only a rush of endorphines can. Superpowered emotions have become my driving force. How can you say the junkie doesnt have a high emotional intelligence? They spend their whole lives feeling emotions most people can never imagine. Either way, right now, ive convinecd myself that i may not be helpless, but it was that rushed mindlessness that so easy to do, routine makes it simpler. The finances are just too simple, i cant turn down a deal, maybe its something my mother taught me. I write my name in the powder, just because i can, i feel so rediculously apathetic i can almost confuse it for confidence. So apathetic i lick up a thumb sized pile just to prove to myself it means nothing to me. I almost laugh because i know it proves nothing. The apathy is absurd, and confidence is fleeting. Given a few hours ill be reduced to a paranoid mess. Twitichy and wish for only the comfort of sleep, but too scared to come down. Untill youve felt it, you have no way of even imaging how it feels. Most people have had comedowns, letdowns, crashes, whatever you want to call it, chemically or emotionally induced. But Byron himself couldnt describe the irrational justification for the behavior that will ultimatly calcify iinto a skeleton by morning. It hasnt even begun yet, but i know its coming, i knew right after that first line. I throw a bag against the wall, it stays closed and gives a mildly statisfying thud. The climax comes, and i pick up the bag, ill need it later.
The morning comes and im half a zombie, my mucles contract moving the lactic acid, or what i assume is lactic acid. But i start to settle into the routine, the first night is always the hardest, but routine comes and makes it easier. The body is amazingly adaptable, once we had to endure extreme cold, starvation, heat waves, and droughts, now thats the last thing we worried about, but our bodies still maintain much of that same inate ability to survive and adjust. The hardest adjustment is always to the guilt when you hand someone that bag and take the money they either worked hard for or stole. Im handing them nothing and get exactly what i want in return, thats capitalism. Whats even more amazing is that no one seems to notice you. Your always invisible, but youd think that the dramatic emotions would show in your face or someone would notice the twiching, sweating, nervous behavior, constant rummaging in your pockets or the not so slights of hand in oddly placed handshakes. But in reality no one knows, no matter what you do, your still invisible. The longer lasting effects of the industrial revolution can still be felt on the city streets. Seven generations have walked them so the subtle nuances have long since been looked over like the spitstains on the sidewalk. Its as if when you can feel the diffusion of responsibility, the diffusion of hospitality gets overlooked. Only in these concrete jungles can one find no room to breate from the congestion of exhausted carbon yet feel completely isolated.
Its day five and im cleaned out. I have a decent return on the principle investment and feel hollow. Theres no sense of satisfaction really, not at these margins.The tolerance to margin is synomous with the chemical tolerances, no slowly fading away in my head. At first any profit fills you with a sense of pride and accomplishment, soon though you grow accustomed to it and only when you find yourself mulitplying the principle do you really feel that satisfaction. I suppose tolerance is what makes us feel so unsatified, why we are all "suffering." Even though this is unimportant now, because the task at hand is what begrieves me most. A blank white screen. Glowing like an open invitation and im too intimidated to RSVP. My tolerance to my own words has grown too much to even bother putting them on the screen, in hopes one of the few critics i acually care about will read my work perhaps boost my self esteem or feed into my delusion hope of future romance. In concious thought the decision weighs in. Questioning my own motivations i close the screen. The night air cools my skin but not my mind, the last week has left my thoughts simmering and now on the verge of coming to a boil the frustions mount for a full frontal assualt. No flanks nessesary, we have the numbers and in numbers we show no fear. Im back inside staring at the mirror, questioning motivations, questioning identity, knowing full well that if that phantom were to ever cross the silver divide that i would show no remorse and no fear in taking his life. In all this, its not really what i want, its not what anyone wants. But our desires are products of our perceptions, and with the skewd double vision I walk a straight line, enforcing the premisis. Narcissim, repressed into guilt, into shame, shame to fear of showing weakness and right now the voice in my head is screaming at me. The hobgoblin, created by my own unsatisfaction, my motivator and worst enemy tells me im weak and usless, and soft. The phantom in the mirror agrees, showing me the pudge left around my hips from my forever changing metabolism, the fear in my eyes shows and i know everyone can see it. Prove yourself, it says to me, show them they are all wrong to laugh, show them you are what you have chosen to be.

Tense

2007-02-12T21:00:00.000-08:00

Its a cold hard day when even I fall to my knees and pray
I dont know what god i prayed to and i dont really care
I just want to hear my own words in the air

Watch over him, he a good man
Give him the same chances you or fate gave me

I love my friend, till the bitter end

Karsinogen

2007-02-11T16:49:00.000-08:00

Tighten the skins
Play the beats to summon the sons
The suns that comes every time we drum
the beat plays on the reach the sum

the beat plays on and summons the sons

Slaves, tracer lines draw out our skies
The sons of the holy son stolen away
Never submiting but reaching the apex
of the blue lines that draw the segways

crossfaded and spun, backbeat and won
vortex rainbow, reverse helix and its done

I stole the sun with the beat of my drum
and the sons dance in the new reality
the enlightened love of a god, undone

this is because GOD comes everytime we drum
and we summon under a new sun
drawn and redrawn each day forgotten

this is the new order, of the tracer sun

Bare Bones

2007-02-07T15:36:00.000-08:00

I dont know why i havent been doing this, its not for lack of things to say. But i suppose the desire to express my whims and realizations to the world has waned, maybe because of a lack of an audience, maybe simply because its absolutly pointless except to give me something to read over when im drunk and feeling nostaligic wishing to inflate my already artificial ego.

I feel like my mind and body are working double normal effeciency, of course i did pretext college with a nice month of absoutly no intellectual stimulation and minimal physical, so it could just be a contrast, but i wouldnt account all of it to so.

That doesnt help the CRUSHING lonliness and bordem, which you think would make good fodder for the artistic cannon, but thankfully coping mechanism, that arent substance related have pleasantly corked that weapon of war.

dial tone

2007-01-27T00:01:00.000-08:00

Im gonna try and go to sleep before i say something stupid...

I feel like im being pressed from all sides and i dont know what to do

Im not making anyone happy

2007-01-17T17:07:00.000-08:00

Your either lying or have a poor memory

oldddddddd

2006-12-28T12:44:00.000-08:00

She was nineteen. At nineteen years old the joy is so oppressive that one sometimes cannot distinguish between the tears of happiness and tears of acknowledgement. Acknowledging that the final teenage years are over for her. She weeps quietly for the pre-mature death of her young twenties as well, those years that are supposed to be filled with the strange combination of responsibility with at the same time a new found freedom. It’s almost impossible to distinguish which if the tears are which as she holds her hope and oppression in her hands.
Some people never understand how so much hope and love and at the same time oppression and hatred can exist in one entity.
The ride home from the hospital is the scariest car ride she has ever taken. The carefree smug driving of her lover and fiancé, the same carefree and smug attitude that once attracted her to him now is a threat to her new precious Faith. The questions in her mind are almost intolerable.
Her Faith grows. She takes her fathers eyes and her mothers tongue. She takes her fathers shoelace and puts it in her mouth. She takes a winning smile, a smile that could melt your heart and a laugh of pure unadulterated joy and curiosity from nothing. The nothing is the distance that has grown between her eyes and her mouth as she ages. The questions of the car ride home have only grown into paradoxes. Distorted drunken logic magnifies the paradox until it becomes all-consuming. Finally, consumed with the logic that was bequeathed to him by his father, her lover leaves.
Now the hope has turned into faith, as fear gives way to hope. Faith assumes her namesake completely now.
It is never easy to hold a job when you are distracted. She was often distracted. Those who had never seen what it was like inside a life couldn’t understand would blame her and her alone. They never met her mother. They never saw her father. They never look beyond what their eyes tell them and assume that she is the stereotype played out to the masses on special reports at ten. It is the strength of faith that can never be conveyed on those horrid manipulative special reports at ten.
Her Faith continues to grow, truly with all the blessings a mother can provide.
The questions start to come to Faith as they come to all children, but with a mother who was never certain, only worked with what she was given, what answers could ever come to her child? The cycle continues. She sees the cycle continue in her daughter. She cries again this time you can see each clearly as it spells frustration on the carpet, spotted with ash stains of the past 14 years. A mother’s warning goes unheard, a thousand nights, and a thousand mothers. Only one speaks the truth, though all the mothers preach the same warning.
Her faith wavers as her Faith strides chemically confident, she knows all, she understands all, she has seen her mother, and her mother has seen all, though phallic logic, she has seen all and walks chemically confident without fear. A boy drives next to her, smiling a carefree smug smile, driving slowly not bothering to turn down the music to speak with her. Her Faith is so strong she can sit comfortably in his passenger seat and never see or hear what is really said when he declares what he wants. He wants her Faith, and though her faith is strong that she knows all she is afraid. He has no time for fear and shows a chemically confident little girl, still a baby in the eyes of those that know her, why her mother was the only one who spoke truth that night.
Her Faith returns to her, confused and scared, never wanting to know the answer to the question that was still fresh in her mind. Together they stand in unity for the first time since her last laugh of curiosity. The black of Faith’s mascara swirls onto her mothers pale skin.

Resentment

2006-12-16T07:16:00.000-08:00

I wrote with a bitter taste in my mouth
Only driving home again in the mist shrouded sky
Making night as clear as day
Did i realize what is meant when they say beauty is all around us

Only the wakefull

2006-12-15T05:59:00.000-08:00

Clear eyed, open mind, the masses will know but not understand
The day-breakers and noon-wakers will never know
Even should they wake on the morning day to embrace the bank
They find themselves stuck in a depressant haze
Bleary-eyed they navigate through their burden
Unable to embrace the beauty of the emerging trees through the thick fog
Todays morning will be enlaced with adventure and discovery
The simple pleasure of watching the tailights in front of you dissapear
As you race ahead to chase down what consumed your fellow traveler
Only the wakefull find pleasure in the morning hour
Only those who live without the bleary eyed mornings remnicent of the night before
can appreciate a good adventure, traveled alone

IEOP

2006-12-02T00:44:00.000-08:00

Sometimes it feels like im in a movie, like someone is going to yell CUT and all the walls will just fall away. Sometimes it feels like im supposed to write that movie. That this is the love i need to express to others

people need love, and more imporantly they need the hope of love, and the belief that its out there

maybe the ideas good, maybe its not, ill toy around with it

They stand

2006-12-01T12:33:00.000-08:00

They stand hands out, picture frame with a roatating back facing towards them, mirror finish on the back. Looking glass gone unused. Self image entranced into the clear glass in front of them which lacks the ever important silver backing

They stand with hands out, mouths open, screeching like some jungle bird, the sounds inhuman, no apathy for these howls, they are the break to the beauty of ambience

They move on tracks, wooden and hand carved but so long worn that its impossible to tell, the erractic movements like that of an anqutie clock with little knife cut figures that find a quiet dignity in their servitude to the golden prophet of time

The movements sycronized , working together like the gears on a clock, one turn here, two turns there, perfect symmetry, but should you ask them they will tell you they follow no time, that the path they follow is merely coincidentally laid with the ancient track

Some dont believe in coincidences

They are monitored, not for any particular real purpose, but the powers the laid be to the design of this infernal contraption decided its best nothing be left to its own devices, control is a means only to more control

Thus they go to the pound and select a few canines, polish their coats and let them roam among the people. Termite plaque stains their teeth. They discriminate non-discriminatly among those mearly following the path.

This was the master plan

Ms. Gyn Oney

2006-12-01T10:47:00.000-08:00

The borderline archaic listing of digits lists a term incompresshible except to only the most dedicated computer scientists, but its translates clearly into a 230x460 visual below, marginalized, to the upper right hand corner.

The visual is strikingly borish, a mesh of photoshopped color play, ametur experimentalist, but given the recent trends, its not so bad, almost has a lackluster charm about it

Of course given thats all a matter of perspective, objective studies in current youth culture.

Perhaps confused, perhaps thinking clearly our subject admires with a strange sense of self lost somewhere between the Aorta and diaphram, a connection she cannot place yet though a matter of helixing electrons the connection is made in some of the ninety percent grey useless matter.

objective yet again as to what lies within useless grey matter

but all the biochemisty, pop-psychology, and time spent in vain reading current dime store novellas will never really apply in the same manner a repressed, shamed memory would.

The study was always futile, the shame, repression, fear, hope will cycle, its pointless but is fuel for the next great postmodern romantist peice

Everythings Changing

2006-11-20T13:35:00.000-08:00

I hope i can keep up with the times
It seems like im only falling behind

Post Script

2006-11-06T11:19:00.000-08:00

The reason why you can never find absolution to the system is that when a crime is commited there is a victim (personally) the debt for the crime goes to the victim, not the system.

Crime and Punishment

2006-11-06T11:08:00.000-08:00

Every criminal is not a theif, Every thief is not a criminal.

There are those that would assume that those who would break one law would break any law with ease, that perhaps our own personal codes of conduct do not conflict or overlap with the generally accepted laws of society. We are all lawbreakers, so thus any of those blanket ideas are negated.

I stopped reading crime and punishment. Its a cute moral fairy tale, but the main character lies to himself, and the readers generally assume that in a first person narative that the narrator does not lie to you, in that we do not lie to ourselves. But we do. Even with the false rationalization, its still a rationalization that can be justified.

We live in a society that defines being guilty as having evidence, if you are not caught the crime was never commited. This is how we rationalize our world. As i read crime and punishment, i thought how wrong of him, how wrong of him to feel guilty, to confess, and how wrong of her to feel that he needs to absolve himself and that prison is an appropriate way to do so. Not to say that the criminal never feels remorse or guilt, but just as one does not ever follow the rules of society laid before them, i have NEVER felt the punishment of society to be the way to absolution and my modern brethran and I will never find absolution through the system.

But perhaps that is because my personal code is restricted to crimes i can justify, and rationalize and that generally do not harm others unless they wish to be harmed, openly or not.

Either way i can't finish reading it, Russian Lit. is to oranatly dark for me i suppose.

Guilt is not stronger than fear, fear is the driving force behind any decent criminal, and we are all criminals.

Cliques and Cliches

2006-11-02T14:03:00.000-08:00

The animosity will never die, and maybe it is representative of the animosity towards myself, but what great soul didnt have a conflict with themselves. If change is the essence of conflict what is the change here that causes the conflict because i see no change only the return.

But this time its different. This time its not the dopesick heartbroke lullubys. This is pure
hatred, insanity, lust, futility, oppression

Oppressing the oppressed only to speak out against tryanny

Thats the futility of it all, all with a sick lust, edipus sydrome of the soul
Kill myself, fuck myself, use myself, only to get lovesick and return brokenhearted back home wishing id never left but feeling ten times wiser, ten times stronger, ten times older

remebering three years later it was a fallacy, a false prophecy written on the back of a cardboard box, but painted just so that from a distance youd think it was stone.

Whats the diffference between a spree killer and a serial killer

Apology for Prejudice

2006-11-02T14:01:00.000-08:00

This is an apology to myself and no one else, for deluding myself into thinking that this isnt me.

Too long have i not felt the embrace and i dont care to ever leave it again.
I know what brought it out in me and it makes me feel good
Warm all fucking over

But this is something that took along time to admit to myself though ive admitted it to others all along.

The tough guy visade turned spree killer

Go read shit from 2004

2006-10-24T12:35:00.000-07:00

Seriously where did my skills go?

Its time to start practicing again

Self Destruct Sequence

2006-10-24T12:32:00.000-07:00

it seems like whenever i start to get my shit together is when they greatest draw to destroy myself is.

American Dream

2006-10-22T17:13:00.000-07:00

With a gun in my hand ill have all the money i need
with a pocket full of pills ill never have to eat
with all the psychotic little girls ill never need a whore

i live the American Dream, if with a gun in my hand i get whatever i need

Dead end caste system
your in it now
you bought into the american dream
but now you have a gun and its time to break free

Dope Sick

2006-10-07T10:13:00.000-07:00

I always seem to only get dope sick at work on saturdays.

This shit is like my tweekersex

cant tell if its worse than a hangover

Brown Eyed Girl

2006-10-02T14:30:00.001-07:00

How the fuck did i fall in love so fast

I dont even know what happened. It was just an infatuation and all of a sudden i feel withdrawls on monday morning.

Did i used to have a front? something i put up to keep me tough, strong, in control

Ive lost it, This girl made me lose my fucking mind and i cant get enough of it

And its over

2006-09-26T07:08:00.000-07:00

And waking up every day feels exactly the same as it has the past 19 months. I feel almost silly for how ive acted. But its easier now that the pressures off i suppose

I dont know if i should be jumping for joy or what. I still feel like ive been exploited but its really not so bad. I also decided to work on any and all poetic works outside of this site till they are up to par with some of my older work. Its probably for the better because i can communitcate more clearly this way.

Ive gotten attached again. I get attached so easliy, maybe i just meet really spectacular women, who knows

Morphine in my bloodstream

2006-09-19T08:34:00.000-07:00

I feel you inside me, already under my skin
Flowing and spreading through my body

without thinking i anticipate whats to come, the dope sick withdrawl of me the junkie fiend
and instantly im overcome with the sickness, the depression

i must fix (you)

What is it that the morphine gives the junkie fiend, is it the sickness or the relief?

[The hardest part is deciding if im above such games, or if i am just another player]

c'est amour!

2006-09-18T06:29:00.000-07:00

So long have i lived in comfort

Yet a comfortable life always leaves someone, like myself, so possesed with wanderlust wanting more

And so with a swift breaking of my shell i have found myself completely and totally enamoured
Its possibly the daunting insecuritys that make my heart beat this fast but i love it, i love it like a bad addiction.

That whole night i was quoting little in my head, thinking of the monolouge of Bobby Prince

"Like two broken halves that come together and make something complete and wonderful."

Ill fucking rob the world twice for her

Timeless

2006-09-13T20:21:00.000-07:00

The pull of the loins is as fleeting as the pull of the heart
No one feels love for the aged rock-star, only pity

Tis a shame, they say, tis a shame he spent his whole life looking for the moment and never wanting to be commited.

The real shame is that both he the aged, used hollywood trash, who thought beauty is timeless, could be never be something

Because their both still stuck on an idea

Alone

2006-08-14T06:51:00.000-07:00

I feel more alone right now than i think i ever have before

I am both literally and figurativly a junkie without dope

I'm just tired, so goddamn tired.

A return..

2006-08-06T08:36:00.000-07:00

Its been a long fucking time since i posted in here, so i doubt anyone still checks it anymore

Probably for the better because im getting more and more insecure about my writing, which is why i have done so little of it in the past few months.

The past few months have had a strange conversion in me, id like to blame everyone else, but i know that its all me. And its all probably due to my return to drug usage, even though i know that im not using nearly as heavily as before it still bothers me, it still changes something inside of me.

I now wear a shell
I stay on my back, rocking
It disables me

Back to the old school cyrptic shit for me

last night i counted the bridges ive burned
never meaning to do so
but leaving a trail of gasoline behind you
will always produce such events

Burned bridges is the perfect symbol for the situation at hand, because with work, an patience you can rebuild bridges and get back, but its never the same as before. So in my mind, its better just to count my losses and move on

(Lame pop culture refereces approaching)

I hold back alot of what i feel, and want to say, because it is associated with a current trend, but i decided this morning (hence the opening up in a new blog) to fuck them. Im a writer, ive been a writer since as long as i can remeber. And just because at one point in my life communations of the word became illict doesnt mean i should hold back, or stop.

Sinned against my craft
Sinned against my old friends
What wonderful fuel

2006-05-09T06:21:00.000-07:00

It seems that after a relapse would be the most appropriate time to update, although relapse comes with the connotations of everything getting out of your control and being a victim of your addiction. I directly ignored all warning signs and continued to assume I was in control of a situation that I really was not. I wonder if that’s how everyone else does it. It’s amazing how horrible I feel now, and yet just a few days ago I was thinking I could feel so much better than this. We could just say I got bored, and that would probably be the most correct assumption. But If I can’t handle boredom, I’m not going to get very far.

Its been a while, lets hope people still check this

2006-04-10T18:41:00.000-07:00

I have an idea for a book, and i think its good, and i think its good because it doesnt involve me in anyway.

My english teacher says thats what writers do, they just see life and let their imaginations create the story.

Lighting

2006-03-22T11:12:00.000-08:00

After all the lights are turned off and all the make up is washed off
Did you notice the scar on her lip?
The invariable story it tells so classic leading to the climax of achieving superficial perfection?

The headlines you read before you witnessed her performance lied to you
They told you of desires she didnt have
They told you of a girl so fufilled by all you can offer

But of course after a she takes the three ambien to get to sleep
after she awakes the next day from a horrible dream
after thirty years of sitting perfectly still

Last Call

2006-03-17T22:21:00.000-08:00

There is no right or wrong

I dont understand why people cant understand, or if they do seem to remeber that there are no absolutes in anything

I have a million things i want to say, i want to emote. Luckily im skilled enough as a writer I can usually do a decent job or so I hope.

But this time...

...Im just sick of giving out the andswers to questions I'll never really understand

I was gonna copy this over into paragraph form, but meh..

2006-03-09T10:43:00.000-08:00

Cardinal Flip: people need to chill the fuck out about political opinions
Cardinal Flip: this "war" has everyone so fucking edgy
Cardinal Flip: what happened to respecting others political views
Cardinal Flip: "So these kids are going to have notes on why George Bush is related to Hitler and why the state of Israel was founded on violence and terrorism," Allen said on KHOW Radio Wednesday. "These kids are going to have notes on this and accept that as fact."
Cardinal Flip: and thatt guy is a fucking idiot
oft Kenn: yeah i'm reading
oft Kenn: problem is.. politicians themselves, and people like Kayne "loves the dick" East...
oft Kenn: i agree with people about the whole ordeal, and if someone disagrees with me... so be it, that's why we live in america
Cardinal Flip: exactly
oft Kenn: if i wanted to be hated upon because of my beliefs... i'd go live in a communist state
Cardinal Flip: or facist
Cardinal Flip: its the hypocracy of america dude
oft Kenn: problem is we're already here dude
Cardinal Flip: the whole protectors of freedom against religious oppresive nations
Cardinal Flip: who the hell are we fighting?
Cardinal Flip: it sounds like ourselves
oft Kenn: yeah
Cardinal Flip: theres no enemy
Cardinal Flip: theres terror
oft Kenn: every man for himself
Cardinal Flip: bullshit
Cardinal Flip: its if your not with us, your against us
Cardinal Flip: if you dont support the war
Cardinal Flip: you hate america
Cardinal Flip: if you dont support bush, your a hippie communist
Cardinal Flip: its not just government facism
Cardinal Flip: its social facism
oft Kenn: i can see that
Cardinal Flip: christanity has been doing it for centurys
oft Kenn: two millenia
Cardinal Flip: blind faith, is the stupidest, most ignorant thing anyone can have
Cardinal Flip: acually faith, or believing in anything
oft Kenn: You can't believe in yourself?
Cardinal Flip: fuck no
Cardinal Flip: you have to question everything
Cardinal Flip: your own thinking first of all
oft Kenn: where did it come from?
Cardinal Flip: where did what
Cardinal Flip: i blame our disney culture that teachs us the power of faith and believeing and if you just try REALLY REALLY REALLY hard, the laws of all existance will bend
oft Kenn: Your thoughts man, if you're going to think about why you think... then question where your way of thinking comes from
Cardinal Flip: true
oft Kenn: and you've answered most of it there
oft Kenn: not just disney... but the media
oft Kenn: people have subjected themselves to this stupid shit
Cardinal Flip: america fucking loves the underdog story
Cardinal Flip: who doesnt?
Cardinal Flip: but they love it so much theyve come to expect
Cardinal Flip: believe in it
oft Kenn: agreed
Cardinal Flip: the problem beyond that is that people see everything in two colors
Cardinal Flip: good and bad
Cardinal Flip: and we cant talk about the bad, because we want to focus on the good
Cardinal Flip: we cant talk about existentialist and nilhilist idealism, because its negative
Cardinal Flip: and we need to think positive
oft Kenn: well... my question is.... is there anything other than good and band? I mean that's all we've been taught
oft Kenn: i don't know any better
Cardinal Flip: the middle way
oft Kenn: there is no mean between good/bad
Cardinal Flip: do you acually believe that or are you just saying it to play devils advocate
oft Kenn: man, my mind's not open to that shit... fuck that there's only good and bad
Cardinal Flip: heaven and hell
oft Kenn: (devil's advocate) i always play it, it's the only way i'll learn anything
oft Kenn: Yeah, limbo buddy
Cardinal Flip: religion is the root of it all
Cardinal Flip: acually
Cardinal Flip: fear of death is the root of it all
oft Kenn: i dont fear death... have you seen the way i drive?
Cardinal Flip: well there are exceptions
Cardinal Flip: but most people cannot handle or do not want to face the idea that they are alone, inpersonal, and will die just as they have swatted a thousand bugs
Cardinal Flip: thusly we build hundreds of thousands a layers of bullshit to mask this truth
Cardinal Flip: everything from heaven and hell, to what counterculture we belong to
Cardinal Flip: but its like deep inside everyone knows the truth
Cardinal Flip: so they just pile on more bullshit
oft Kenn: yeah, i'd have to agree with you there
Cardinal Flip: if you just close your eyes and yell loud enough it all goes away

Something wrote in english

2006-03-06T20:03:00.001-08:00

Clear headed again. But when are our heads truly cleared? Always subject to our objections do we exist in a reality of our own creation wholey different from the reality in which we exist. Suffering is the collisioning between these bipolar realms.

We like to think we are all so different but if you were in your wholey different corpse, sitting upon the shore, could you tell each wave apart? would you remeber any wave after it crashed on the shore? Does any wave ever really exist or become destroyed.

The problem isn't you cant see yourself cleary. The prblem is you are only lookng at yourself. When You is realy a thousand miles away and at the same time within an arms reach in its entirety. You are looking upon an acorn attempting to deciefer the anatomy of a tree.

Something wrote in english

2006-03-06T20:03:00.000-08:00

Four Walls

2006-03-01T17:35:00.000-08:00

Four ancient walls, blocking four of the ten directions
Your house is celingless
The flowers of all fruits in the sky
Flow free, as we argue over their color
Stained glass lets in eternal light
tinted and stained to distort the pervading light
Never question colors percieved
your eyes are all you have
Take pride in how long your walls have stood

Forget the ancient techniques used to contruct your walls
They have stood, you will have pride as long as they stand

Sans Lithium pt. 2

2006-02-28T11:40:00.000-08:00

The biggest reason i got off of lithium was that i was never sure what was the drugs and what was me. Which is wholey irritating at the very least, now having been off it a few days, over what minor withdrawls there were, i can say that most of the thoughts and feelings and reactions now are the same as when i was on lithium. Now i want to give it more time, but now im left with the question of ... so am i better off on it or off it?

On a seperate but slightly related note i switched to decaf green tea just as a kicker to say i dont use caffine entirely.

The more i think ive changed, the more i realize im exactly how ive always been

lack of lithium reduces quality of dream

2006-02-27T10:07:00.000-08:00

So i dont think im bipolar. Im pretty sure i just bought into the game like everyone else since it was short simple andswer to a much more complex problem

as a result i have stopped taking my medication and feel a whole lot better without it. Im open to the possiblility that i could be wrong, but when one suddenly stops lithium therapy they usually go into a manic state, being as that i suddenly stopped and only had a little trouble getting to sleep i believe my theory is correct.

You cannot survive without consuming other living beings, what gives one the right to decide which living beings are superior to others?

Its been busy at work

2006-02-23T06:54:00.000-08:00

I never used to like sleeping, but now i do because i love dreaming. And i swear to christ my dreams have started taking on themes. Its almost like a thesis my unconcious wants to convey to me every night. Maybe im just slipping off the deep end or looking WAY too into this.

Understanding the concept of no-self is very difficult and its what ive been working on recently. But to be fair most people do years and years of mediatation before they understand the concept. So its a bit frustrating, but you have to live in each moment and be blind to the goal. If you focus on the goal, you lose sight of the path.

Its all fun to say and sounds like i have it figured out, but it seems so infinitly more complicated than that. But thats part of buddhism, is taking away all those layers of bullshit and complications you've built up over the years.

Its been a rough week. One of those weeks where i wanted to quit, or relax and just take it easy, but something in me just wont let myself do it.

Im really starting to dislike the drugs, i can feel them. They say that if they are working right you wont even be able to tell your on them. Well i can tell, i can tell you exactly when i hit a therapudic level, i can tell you exactly when its high and when its lower. I get nervous when its low, afraid ill go into a manic episode. They screw with my head that way. Im not able to fully trust my own thoughts, actions, emotions. I feel like a zombie sometimes.

Breakthrough

2006-02-14T20:29:00.000-08:00

A while ago i was having a conversation with a friend about people changing, granted people do change but she was arguing that people needed time to change, while i was insisting that people had the capacity to change in an instant. Case in point

There is a man, lets say of the age of 32 and he has drank his whole life, never really been an alcoholic, but never been one to turn down a party either. And one night he gets beligerant and beats his wife. Now this is a man who has always thought it wrong to hit women, much less the one he cares for dearly, so he decides that he is never drinking again. And till the day he dies never touches a drop of alcohol.

Now, at what point in his life did he change? Granted he might have had concious desires to drink that subsided over time, and hell he may even have come right to putting the beer to his lips a couple times, but never acually drank. The point is, we cant judge someone on their thoughts, we simply, no matter how much psychology we took in high school or how well you think you know someone, you simply cant put their thoughts into context, you can never paint your world the same way they have painted theirs, for this reason we judge each other (mostly) on actions.

Now say this guy had a friend, who knew him since they were in diapers, had been drinking with this guy since they had their first beer behind his house on a saturday afternoon. And this whole time hes thinking, There is no WAY hes gonna never drink again, this guy LOVES to party, i give it a month tops, but on the day of his friends funeral (suprisingly lets assume he outlived him) He will probably say to himself, damn, he really never drank again, he really changed that moment he decided that he never wanted to drink again. Now granted the friend might have given up on his hopes that his friend return to the partying lifestyle after a few months or years, but the wife beater changed much later in his friends eyes than in his own. This is the nature of differing perceptions. And of course the realization didnt come till death.

Such is the way of buddha nature, within each of us we have the ability to follow the perfect way and we, like the second friend, presume we need time to breakdown those perceptions and ideas we have built up around our concept of the "self". But when the self truely dies, it seems so simple, the idea was there the whole time.

It is difficult to know when to have faith and when to not. Doubt is by far the most usefull and nessesary of all ideas. By all means use doubt to your advantage, question everything around you. Question what you think is wrong, and question what you think is right. Really sit down and think and question what this corpse is you carry with you. Find your own path. And no doubt, doubt, will slow you on the path of losing this attachment to your corpse but it is nessesary.

Thus is the balance we call hypocracy.

2006-02-11T23:56:00.000-08:00

somehow, i leveled out

ive been fucking bouncing around last couple days

who knows the cause

sigh

2006-02-10T22:38:00.000-08:00

Its just one of those nights when your constitution is worn down

Whole time im thinking and remeber those old days and cant help think. What if im wrong, or rather what if im right, and im not bipolar, and what if my new found values are wrong.

ahh, its only these nights, most of the time im infinitly happier... i think

Its impossible to know if im better or worse. Or at least for myself to judge. I can see it in other peoples eyes, they want the old me back, they want the good-on-his-luck always got a story to tell fucked up out of his mind person back. Of course its always covered with a quick your better this way. I guess its better to be this way, but it makes it so much harder when everyone else says its better this way while they do the complete opposite, hypocracy is human nature, but that just leads me back to Why am i not capable of doing what they do? or Am i? Fucking christ its so damn complicated yet it seems so simple. Simply enough I'm not pretentious enough to say "Oh i dont do drugs, or drink, or smoke, or drink coffee, or have frivilous sex" and be proud of it. The whole damn time im thinking dear god i want to be back in that.

Its just tonight, its nights like these that make it hard, make me question what i know to be true. Its nights like these that only prove to myself, 1, how much more i have to prove and 2, how strong ive really become.

The old me, always ended nights like these with an entry, with signifigantly more spelling errors, and a hell of alot more selfishness, usually whining about something he doesn't have

But i have everything, sometimes i just forget that, and think only of the things i want
Its human
But it doesnt have to be that way

I got a long way to go

Therapy

2006-02-02T07:03:00.000-08:00

Havent had a whole lot of time to update this thing, added a new class so im at school till 9 every night now and work has been fucking crazy, this is the first morning i havent been swamped with work for like two weeks.

Started therapy, which i was highly skeptical about at first, but i think i really do need it. Its not so much therapy as it is drug and alcohol conseling. The goal of course, not being to stop, which is already done, but stay off, and not do my sterotypical go 6-8 months clean only to have a little "vacation" that ends in on again off again use.

Im being so damn productive now its almost sickening to myself, or what would be the part of myself that still wants to be destructive and counter-productive, at some moments i feel almost downright two-faced, like i can almost hear the seperate voices and ideals arguing in my head. Because at the same time, i love being this productive, and clean, and steadily growing more pretentious.

2006-01-26T10:14:00.000-08:00

Hypocracy is human natures

Your thrice the human i am

2006-01-25T12:36:00.000-08:00

I could tell by the torn track jacket she was into supreme beings of leisure
Probably a problem with men always trying to leave her
I was caught by suprise
When i saw those love sick eyes
And despite what i had seen
And all the signs of demise in her sighs
Our glances did unite
and ignite
And i knew id never be able to leave her

Look Up

2006-01-14T08:43:00.000-08:00

How long are you going to sit there and feel sorry for yourself. What good will being sad do for you? It certainly makes life easier doesn't it?

I mean we are given this amazing and beautiful world to explore, and were inately born with perfection.

But we set these limits for ourselves, and then we believe in these limits so strongly that we simply do nothing.

Perhaps someone has to realize the value of your life first, but i urge you to explore the value yourself. People think to themselves in such a melodramatic way

"Oh i dont care if i get into a car wreck, this life is boring and depressing anyway"

Try it sometime, so spend a few days fighting for your life, and youll really understand the value of yourself much better.

There isnt an afterlife, there isnt another shot, so why do so many people sit around and just be depressed about this one life they are given?

If its because you dont have what you want or what you deserve, you are a selfish bastard

Left standing in the garden

2006-01-13T12:22:00.000-08:00

And sometimes i wonder, Why do i bother? Why do i do such favors when it is not returned?

Why do i love when the love is not returned? why do i bother, when such bother is met with only insults. Insults for which i have rebutted many a time.

If i were to be left standing in the garden i could be beaten thrown and torn, but i would know, as long as i held out, i would then be admitted to the temple

But here, i could watch as the snow builds up around my shins, and still never know if waiting will achieve anything

I am but a novice, waiting to become a master

I am a novice without a teacher

Skull and Cross-Swords

2006-01-12T10:52:00.000-08:00

sometimes, when i look down at that tattoo, i think, what a lie. What a lie its is i tell myself that there are certain sins i have committed for which i will never be forgiven for.

Oh how easy it is to believe in a god that can take all those sins away
Of course that helps very little in the mortal realm

But today, these past few days when i look down i only see what it is, the friends ive lost, the love i will lose and the people who will never forgive me for the sins i have done

It is unfair to ask it of them, and i know that wishing such will only lead to more suffering

Still i want to pack up and just drive away

Alone

2006-01-11T19:04:00.000-08:00

I knew this path would be alone, and sometimes, im glad, other times all i wish for was for someone who shared my path.

but i know damn well that i cant have that

Its all good