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The Devil Inside You ...

Nov. 4th, 2012 | 12:51 am
location: waiting
mood: apatheticapathetic
music: Billie Tweddle

You've checked yourself into hell but you get a head start 
on the devil behind you, before he comes for your heart
he's not looking for love songs, or even emotions
he just wants to see blood pump - see the life from you flowing

You've checked yourself into hell and the first person you'll meet
is the real you, not the one society keeps
and they're looking for something inside you to take now
like the truth and your youth - so don't stop let the fake out

This is better than heaven because you don't have to be perfect
you can sin, and then grin, get rewards, and deserve it
because the devils inside you and it only wants one thing
be yourself, and don't fear hell, because it's only a dream

Photo on 2012-05-17 at 13.40 #5

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His Speech Flows like Irrational Poetry

Nov. 3rd, 2012 | 04:09 pm
location: Working - Las Vegas BLVD
mood: busy
music: Tom Waits



You're irritatingly brilliant.  Our conversations become lectures.  I want you more often.
You're irritatingly distant.  Our time together feels thin.  I want to break you apart - and then break you again.

I met a boy who is a man and I never hear him complain.  He lives simple.  I feel selfish.  
We talk often.  I like his voice. His speech flows like irrational poetry.  
I can tell that he likes me - not quite sure how much.  But it's nice being liked.  Even better to be touched.  
His touch is even simpler.  I've never been worshiped before, but I imagine that's how it feels.  Again, I feel selfish for even saying this.
He'd hate this if he read it - But love the impurities in the style, the technique, the rules.
He breaks rules.  In the best way.  

I'm irritated by how much I want to message him.  
He doesn't like the interruptions - I don't think.  Because he studies too much - and that's why he's so irritatingly brilliant.
I want this to go somewhere - so terribly much.  I don't think I've wanted something so much in a long time.
It isn't fair to want another person.  But I want this other person -- and I want him to want me back. 

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Friends in low places, Me, Myself, and I.

Nov. 3rd, 2012 | 12:34 pm
location: Leaving
music: Grace Potter



If all the bones in my body would break just a bit
I could pick them out by the pieces that make me feel like shit
because it has to be bone deep
it hurts too much, its too heavy
I was too scared of the pain it would cause, but I'm ready


Loneliness is so relative.  It's all perspective really.  Makes me think it doesn't even exist - and then I think about the fact that if that is true it must mean that other emotions and feelings don't exist.  But they make me breathe.  And they create this commotion.  I always say that I hate it -- I don't think I really do.  
It's time for me to leave for work.  I got a promotion yesterday.  I should be more pleased with myself.  
I'm not. 
And the funny thing is I want everyone around me to be happy.  I want everyone that I don't know to have a good day, and look up when things are so down.  
Inside I'd like to end it.  Even if it is the cowards way out.  At least I'll actually finish something for once in my life.


Photo on 2012-10-09 at 23.37 #2

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The little parts that matter.

Nov. 1st, 2012 | 11:51 pm
location: Half way down half of a bottle
mood: Chipped
music: Lucy Rose

We were somewhere - that mattered. And I liked to touch you.  
Earlier hadn't been great and the only thing I wanted to do now was touch you.
You are brilliant, you know.  And I think you do. 
I can keep up with you speaking, but not the other things you do.
I think that's why we starting talking.  And now we were here - that somewhere.  And it mattered.

I like these little parts of you that aren't always complete.  
So sure in your answers; speech eloquence beat
It's poetry in motion as soon as we hit the bed
with that same beat you're repeatedly nipping into my neck

Hands add to the problem and so you guide me in whispers
with that same speech, that same beat, that same religious scripture
and even though we're not so religious - and we never pray
I swear that 'Jesus' is listening when you touch me each day...

Twisted bodies in good ways and we're basking in sweetness
slightly sore from the more than expected releases



Photo on 2012-11-01 at 23.29 #3
Photo on 2012-11-01 at 23.32
Photo on 2012-11-01 at 23.30 #4

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Feed Your Head!

Oct. 9th, 2012 | 09:42 pm
location: Corner of get-a-map&Fuckoff
mood: incoherent
music: Rocky Mountain Way

He says "I like it much better when you smile in your pictures" 
"I can see the real you in-between all those whispers . . ."

I'm in so many places.  Not all of them great.  I'm making some progress, but also some really fucked up mistakes.  And I hate that I like him, because I was looking for love, but I didn't quite find it in any of them.  I'm picking up on some rumors.  Some of them about me.  I tell myself I don't care, I like my own company.  And there's this constant current -- It's drowning out all the noise, all the bullshit, the drama, and thoughts about boys.  So I follow it -- and it feels like I know where I'm going.  But I don't - it's okay - because I also don't think it's slowing.  

KARA2

I've stored up some moments in one of those small blue glass jars
with a cork as a cap and just enough room for my heart
because I won't be needing it, at least not for now
I've got a gridiron chest that simply won't allow
any negative liaisons - no matter how private
you can throw down as much game as you want, I won't buy it



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Great Gig In The Sky Clear

Jul. 17th, 2012 | 06:36 pm
location: High
mood: anxiousanxious
music: The Doors



Up there with all of the things that I think
a culmination of reasons in one almost missed blink
and she's tinker-toy special
and misfit toy there
Up, where your only companion is air
A bird riddled moment 
without the A. Hitchcock fear
and she's making a moment, Great Gig in the sky clear

I haven't imagined myself so twisted.  There are things I've done that I'd never do, really, it's just simply not me.  
But you can't erase memory and those pictures keep flashing.  
Myself, and the hell that sits in my face laughing. . . 

Dreams make me anxious for future endeavors.  Mine are so surreal.  So insanely vivid.  So actual.  So there.
I'm pushing things around.  

Photo on 2012-05-17 at 13.46

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Bedlam affliction and the small person mining their way through my intellect.

Jul. 10th, 2012 | 08:09 pm
location: Tomorrow
mood: Absence of a mood
music: Makes the people come together


You make me feel different and its keeping me sane
Just a couple of misfits, umbrella-less walks in the rain
I can't describe this feeling, there are just no words to explain
I just like the difference that your "different" maintains



I feel unmistakably present when all I want to do is sink away. . .
I've had a migraine since around dinner time yesterday.  I'm always amazed at how twenty four hours of this can effect your body.  I feel as if my thoughts aren't even real.  I've a small person mining their way through my intellect -- Its a bedlam affliction.   I wrote this all once, about ten minutes ago, it was better then, but my computer crashed and I lost it.  I almost just left it off -- but . . .

Trying to re-write something that you've already written and nearly already forgotten is one of the most frustrating things a writer can go through.  It's worse than writers block, because you've already said it, it's already come out, but you lost it, much like everything else, and recalling it is a challenge you aren't quite sure you want to face. 

I can't even remember the last line to the stanza above that I'd originally wrote.  I hate how it turned out.  I was satisfied with how it was, and a small case of vanity destroyed it.    It's not what I wanted. . . But I tried ... And so . . .




Photo on 2012-05-17 at 13.44

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Fiona Apple - Why try to change me now

Jun. 4th, 2012 | 09:00 am

I'm sentimental

So I walk in the rain

I've got some habits

Even I can't explain

Go to the corner

I end up in Spain

Why try to change me now

I sit and daydream

I've got daydreams galore

Cigarette ashes

There they go on the floor

Go away weekends

Leave my keys in the door

Why try to change me now

Why can't I be more conventional

People talk

People stare

So I try

But can'y be

Cuz I can't see

My strange little world

Just go passing me by

So let people wonder

Let 'em laugh

Let 'em frown

You know I'll love you

Till the moon's upside down

Don't you remember

I was always your clown

Why try to change me now

Don't you remember

I was always your clown

Why try to change me

Why try to change me now

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Sewn Straight Through This Fabric

May. 31st, 2012 | 08:20 pm

You said let's thread together and create a new moment
it will be totally ours and I want you to own it
make my body your temple and I'll treat you the same
whisper our dreams into your ear just to hear your lips hiss my name 
You said let's let our skin become more closely acquainted 
and I acquiesced as your fingertips painted
heart breaking poetry only without all the hatred
calling me achingly pretty and adorably jaded
You said let's thread together, become more closely acquainted
I said yes, now this mess is all that we've painted

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Awkward perfection

May. 30th, 2012 | 11:51 pm

Reality is sinking in and I'm not sure I like it.  My dreams aren't here and I'm ready to venture.  
I don't think I want to be tied to something anymore, even if it's better.  But there is a beauty in it and I feel it deserves some sort of recognition.  I think this will be a beginning.  

I have to be awake by 3 to take my sister to the airport.  I took a couple of zannies today.  I'm not supposed to.  It felt good.  Now I hope I'll be able to drive them.  I feel okay now, and before I will have a coffee.  Before I will splash my face.  It's a short drive to the airport. 

Things have been broken a lot.  All the time really.  


Sandpaper moments that we churn slowly with friction
and turn our bodies inside out with this strange kind of commitment
you're getting under my skin, its the strangest connection
that i've ever felt, our movements awkward perfection



I don't feel like this was a happy entry.  I don't think I really feel anything at all right now.  

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