February 3rd, 2011
What do I do with these empty sensations when my soul is recognized by an absent observer
What do those eyes see that they don't want
Current Music: True Widow
December 26th, 2010
My older brother John tells me I should get my head checked out.
John walks around with a glass of scotch in his hand all day.
December 5th, 2010
|02:41 am - Infant Gratification|
Dancing in rivers of mercury passion. Poisoned by the drought in my own sanity. Contained by reservations like the last walking breed of red skinned mammoths, corroding their veins with drain-o and destructive cocktails of busy minds & idle hands. Hands of time keep moving, but what rotation do my hands form? The circular motion of poetic justice? A pilgrimage from mediocrity to idiocracy? Staking my place in the aristocracy of idiots...
November 28th, 2010
Woven in needlepoint above your front door
The message reads clearly "Please love as before."
November 4th, 2010
|09:25 am - Crayola Daybreak|
Fall: the final destination of summer's pursuits, now capsized and drowning in their own futility
When cherubs learn to walk they dance into the unveiled tomb of bright regrets, dripping with the wax of yesterday's wings and humming the tune the pariah sings.
October 19th, 2010
|11:50 pm - Today was born clinging to the heavy drapes that once named it tomorrow |
Residue of our conversation lingers on my wall
which hangs our phantom on its surface like a taxidermic masterpiece.
Once we shared a blanket and once we shared a bed
but now the spool from which we're spun shares not a single thread.
September 8th, 2010
Who can survive the holocaust of childhood when truth becomes misunderstood by barren language, when life's emotions are lassoed by endless restrictions, when bones break and bend to accommodate our growing organs that we'll only abuse later to punish ourselves for the great, gaping void of our kidnapped innocence.
August 25th, 2010
|08:13 am - Morning Glory|
An LA morning is as spectacular as an LA night. The vast depth of darkness and electricity revives itself each morning as a multi-layered tapestry of hills, tress, and fading stars, echoing the chatter of its subjects. Birds, traffic, a train blowing its horn in the distance, and my dog circling around me. I'd rather be asleep tuned out of dawn's chorus, but I'm perversely awake and my breath shakes with the possibility of today, tinged by the murky fumes of a half lit cigarette.
August 23rd, 2010
Moments where you feel like I AM SAM, nibbling on words, sanity, and overflowing bladders. Peeing on the street against the car in the dark, feeling urine splash on your ankles and cool you down in the summers heat. Out-speaking the men around but wanting to hear what they have to say nonetheless. Being frustrated when they don't quite listen close enough. Not caring that when you sit your short dress rides high up on your leg above the fish-nets your nails picked holes in while hoisting them over your legs after peeing in the street. Not caring that you smell like stale cigarettes, dried urine. and feet. Whose nose works well enough to sense that? And even if noses could smell the way that fingers can feel, I wouldn't care anyway.
August 18th, 2010
Just deleted Facebook. I feel emancipated, like I just got out of a ten year abusive relationship, just kicked a bad habit, quit smoking, stopped shooting heroin, and gave up meat and dairy all at once without withdraws. No more vanity-driven masturbation- self-obsessed celebration- stalker-nation, news feed-live feed-hit-the-refresh-button-twenty times a day bawwwwwlshit. Hell yes.