Slamming shut the shades of these wandering orbs, I came to discover that the scent he left buried in my clothes, embedded in my flesh, took to parading up my nostrils. Into bloodstream and over blood-brain barrier, my very neurology was shifted until the boy materialized and spent the entirety of my would-be dreary day, walking by my side. He's ( Read more... )

For the first time in recorded history I am far too giddy to write anything of aesthetic worth.

That boy has a funny way of looking. Like everything I ever wanted and didn't get.

A while back the various parts and counterparts that structure this here domicile took to the inflation of 1000 balloons, filling that space in the living room with said balloons, donning appropriate glow stick garb, and amid the flash and blur of strobed and blackened lighting, the two fog machines pumping on high, a Black Light Bro-down commenced ( Read more... )

The Unwound, Ugly Casanova, MDK show at the Swamp House last night was incredible. I went to go madeout with Issac Brock but instead we killed him and buried him under a pile of earth next to the firepit. I especially adored the part of the night when two guys came over, sat on either side of me on the couch, took to guessing my age to be 16, and ( Read more... )

My time has been lost ( Read more... )

"I wanted to see boats, so you took me to the sea. I felt like I could fly with this new sky you showed to me. Airplanes passed above us so only I could hear when you whispered "I love you" so sweetly in my ear. These are the best days. Nighttime on an empty shore. Drifting off to sleep to all those silly things you said. Waking for a moment ( Read more... )

Droo.

I won't post anymore pictures of naked boys.

I promise.

You don't have to be scared anymore.

(I told you I'd start writing entries about you. This isn't going to stop. I know secrets about you. I'll tell 'em to EVERYONE. Don't you tempt me!)

David Brownell told me that he only speaks names in full. Opting for the formal "Brook Graham" over that of the typical, yet plain, "Brook". It's the grace, the professionalism of the entire procedure that he adores. He's right, you know ( Read more... )

In this place yesterday never existed ( Read more... )

Nestled in the oddly assorted business men and scene kided walls of Batdorf and Bronson, Walker and I took to composing a slew of notes between sips of our carmelized hot cocoas. We lead ourselves down the soggy city streets, taking great care in the selection of vehicles and placement of said notes, and ultimately attempting to convince half of ( Read more... )