Very much vodka and too much tequila: those are the ways I learned to deal ( Read more... )

I've been trying to post a blog for a long time now.. Each time I try I think "No I'm going to regret posting this."  So I save it and wait a day and I go back and read it and think... why did I say that.  I'm gonna post this one though.  I have no idea why or who I'm even talking to.  Myself I guess. But I think if I don't post it I don't hear it ( Read more... )

I found myself mistrusting the lines I sing so sweetly in your ear. Not that I thought twice about it but never thought once about it. Perhaps herein lies the problem. Maybe it's better not to think about it. I examine my entry wounds. Points of infection. I shrug and let my dog tend to cleaning them as he does best. And behold there ( Read more... )

I figure it’s more than about time for Jessica to have an update on her thoughts or inner workings, life, perhaps write some terrible emo-istic poetry. I find myself stagnating in a complex simplicity. It’d as though no person but let me indulge an idea, especially no artistic person, finds satisfaction in fulfillment. I’ve debated on whether to ( Read more... )

So it's frivolous and meaningless but one in ten of the dead do it or don't do it. Leaving excess flesh for morbid thought recoil or shall I say thoughtlessness. I've got a dream in a box just waiting to fall. Fall and release itself upon the unsuspecting world or to fall and shatter and be unsuspected in the midst of bottle caps and blackened gum ( Read more... )

These are two posts from a little earlier I forgot to put in here ( Read more... )

The incompatible competency of our altered visions and hopeful contracts, is on it’s own a perfect and shared ignorance. To acknowledge the blend with which well bred points respectively come together and inconspicuously contradict, but to realize the reasons for each move is unknown and differed from each side although the aforementioned move by ( Read more... )

Lights of gauzen gold in blackened blue ( Read more... )

Sometimes I lie in bed and I stare at the stains on the ceiling. Shadows, dust, water, and I think to myself I should make a painting for the ceiling of the lines the ceiling paints for me and I realize as I lie there at night that if it weren’t for the dirt… and the flaws… I’d have nothing to paint. Thats what I love about you. You’re flawed. A ( Read more... )

I regain vision to sounds that may have continued hours and I can feel the mold festering withing the iris eatting holes in an already vacant space. It degrades at the remaining image of black. A visible nothingness. I examine my decayed state. The ghost of my sight, my vision looks down at the girl with rotting eyeballs. A girl loosing sight of ( Read more... )