Trembling hand conducting pulses through.....the red paint.....But I remember it. I still catch a glimpse when the sun and the horizon meet.

- to curry favor by toadying

this is where screw and complain. then. secretly make-up and smile. then you call me slut and I call you a bitch (the bitch that you are).

but alas.... it seems as though you have other plans.

touché

i've drawn 12 self portaits this summer. they consistently look alike, but none resemble me.

its nice to come to a quiet and neglected place to come to when all you want is attention.

I hate to be the jerk, but reconciling just isn't in my genes. Ask my parents.

My friends are everything to me. They are my best companions and my worst enemies. They're my diary, my mirror, my pillow ( while fluffy cloud). They protect me from the looming cocoon consisting of intricately woven parts of my misery, fears, disappointments, and sadnesses. When I see them go, there isn't an instrument capable of measuring my ( Read more... )

THERE IS LIGHT. ITS COMING FROM A MILLION MILES AWAY, BUT ITS BURNING HER EYES AND SHE CANT SLEEP.

Im black,and proud and poetic like Giovanni or rather? Im ashamed of all the pomp and bling (I couldn't possibly understand where it all comes from)

"Hey baby, Gimme somma that sexy sweet stuff. Ill show you what a really man is."

strum. strum. my guitar is out of tune. mi guitarra es out of tune.