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| October won't get an entire entry. | | |
| ...Danse avec moi. Initially, the plan was to start out violent, but this weather is Californian, and what else can I do now except dance in the street?
If you decide to come with me, I'll show what Earth is really made of.
I'm evening out, though should always be in Milan.
In a couple of months, I need to stop by home and pick up some pieces, and when I do that, I'll have to slap some hands and get reacquainted with the Kingpin. Even in this recession, my city is growing... Growing in everything, population, crime, unemployment... I left your jacket back in California. Sorry, I'll pick it up.
And then I'll come back and wait the winter out. Though the gangs still own San Bernardino.
If I'm feeling ambitious, he said, I can work on that pallet.
But if our histories were intertwined, you would see why they call me the Wild One. Everyone in everything you see has done something they regret, but I must admit that I'm self-proclaimed and universally acclaimed.
Pull it down for you in a second if you'll give me the gun, because tonight I'm meeting somebody in the city on the hill. Aquinas' wisdom never died. Every smirking little fucker will be taught. Tonight.
Don't dispose of this message, it's for everyone: I've got tons of time to be tired in a tragic triangle. But to be so consumed by anger for some reason("Because," he said, "he's going to do 'something'"). I don't need your accusation of theft. This one is for the mystic, because when I'm in your city I'm daydreaming. And those old office buildings, they know the words I speak, decades of indifference and forgetting, but there isn't enough bulldozers for the both of us.
So say goodbye to the field you grew up on. Another victim of the sprawl.
Gathered at the club, ex-boyfriends and ex-girlfriend, salutes to yours truly and fond remembrance. I would have risen to exclaim that every song you dedicate has been done so before, and that makes you a liar, a cheat, but don't man up, you might exceed our expectations.
Down on 14th, they gathered at the old White Building to set up flags and graffiti tags to remember their lovers' beds as body bags. But you'll get no sympathy from me. I don't concern myself with the trite.
Though drunkenly collapsing on the couch didn't teach anybody a lesson because most of the time when at work and in doubt I concern myself with the history intertwined, and I pull my teeth out.
You try but I hated him - this is not a concept I enjoy. Martini, anyone? Knowing how the stuff runs in the family.
Stop getting so god damn emotional - fairfield, fairfuck, black sheep - Did you ever know the way I really felt? This life? You try prying it from my fingers. I never want to have to admit who is right, to rats, I plead the fifth. Part the fucking doors, and into the Sty.
Don't be coy with me, I deal in wolves. Come Together as a theme song.
These pedophiles, pitifully painful whiney rich rag tag gringos. Fucking uncultured drones droning downward, redneck hicks inbred dating ex. "I won't tell her that, I won't do that to her," so says the crickets swan song as the summer dies down gives rise to raging hormones harmonious monogamy monotony.
Sitting a lit table next to pellets with teenagers, teenagers dating teenagers ambiguity's ambition to conceal megalomania's obsession to control. Which one of us will fall first? I'm listening to the girl that flirts shy talk about teenagers dating teenagers with the sharpness of melancholy's lament. I'm nineteen but fully aware. Though never able to relate, only able to listen.
In this town, teens are hot with teens.
This game is stupid. I refused to play it.
In essence, my mind is occupied with issues much bigger than personal enjoyment, or the possible chance of getting laid -
That's his car there. Our cat here. Tonight I'm feeling just daring enough. Your refusal to live and let die. I need to find a car, but the Riemann hypothesis is more important.
Masculinity speaking in tongues' soul comes alive at the sight of evening lights. Traffic grows. Friday night retaliates with sirens benevolent music. But sex is old and tiring and you don't care for music. Nothing's new with you out on a wire, on a limb, speak on my behalf in Centerville. What you say may enable me to take form. Slumbering is a juggernaut laboring to trek over this ziggurat.
For now, I'm suspicious of particular activities and words and the way they're spoken, for a king when he is angry with a man beneath him may shape up and take comfort in Franklin, by subway, money in my hand is the problem, man.
Limpid and through with contortions, you've been telling me your story through notebooks and scrap pieces of paper. Through found objects and accidental art, I breathe a sigh of relief
Our enemy in common? 21st century racial superiority. I've grown tired of the conflict, this charade. So exhibiting self-control and domination over my animal magnetism, I've proved to nobody for no one that I am.
If pre-marital sex is so sinful then why does it feel so heavenly. Bi-curiosity killed the man, man. I say, I say I stay awake. Out-stretched limbs, new human, without revisions to his vocabulary, archaic, a perfect muscular vessel.
I'm still working full time. In less than a month we're moving. Yes, I do miss California, but I'm managing just fine. In time I will live there again, probably. College is on the agenda. The time for art has been sparse, but I'm making the best of it. Lately, I've been doing a lot of thinking; a lot of reflecting. I've also been observing, gathering information about people.
There is not much else to write home about.
Oh yeah, it's fall.
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| Ha! Thee stepping stones. I'm sick and up to my knees in disease.
It doesn't take a weatherman to see which way the wind blows for Cecil Rhodes.
Made it home in one piece. I pushed my way through the door and face first around the corner into the floor. Jerusalem flinched awake, startled, asked me what time it was. I told him I was crashing here for the night, "I'm always crashing," I said.
Who's peddling amaranth here? Why am I stained all over the fucking place.
This year I beat the expectations set for my generation merely by existing and being where I am today. No, we beat the expectations. We did. We're not dwelling with fucking mom, you dig.
And them fucking teenage girls will always get my sympathy. I'm geared towards flames. As I enter my dying days, I pluck tha banjer. Their flirting is boring, though. I'm already beyond the petty.
It's a crying shame what my generation knows about work.
Shucking corn, whistling Mozart. Good luck exciting me, because I'm fire crashing your party.
Next year, I'm only making one friend.
So beg my pardon, asshole.
Yeah, it's no bad ass factory job, but after a month of unemployment, it feels good to finally be back in the fray. Unionized too. Locked and loaded with a Fender amp, back in business no doubt. Could be doing worse.[julio]
New girlfriend, old career, new town. Got a big blue on the way too.
"Maybe all heart break is rational. Maybe it's all just a matter of jealousy and you-killed-me-firsts. I don't know. I don't even remember what it feels like. I don't remember what it's like to be that stupid. Over it. Shit's trivial to yours truly. It'd take an army to get some rise out of me. Or maybe the Navy."
Cultural superiority? This is not America, these enclaves. Everyone's just fucking around under the sun. Can you all just quit fucking for a moment? Let's examine, please, why we are under the sun.
It's easier to believe nothing than something. Freud and his cigars can't probe mars. Given past behavior, one has to wonder what's changed, and why. Well I want to know what it means to live. I left home for experience, and now I might just do some things I want to do, and some thing I might not want to do. The golden rule is no regrets. I'd side with girls after this one. Can't really touch me when in bedlam. But to make a long story short, it's Friday sirens, and when in Rome, you know.
I'm just hoping at this point that people will play on my behalf in French Polynesia.
Choose the words wisely, what you say may enable me to throw the television[his head, from the table, cuervo on the floor]
If given a choice: May of the West or Amy of the East, I'd plead the fifth. The difference? Well now that escapes me... Well I draw comparisons, you know, and I can't turn up any differences sometimes. So say hello to UCLA for me, and I'd wave at those Armos if I were in your shoes. There was some prison riot over in Chino the other day. I recall driving, getting a little lost, ending up at some prison in Chino, about a week before I left California. To my surprise,
I'm bored of indifference. But getting up is tiring.
I can't get over it, the patterns of people repeat the principle. Sex is for kids. But regardless, we've got dreams on skateboards.
What I had to go through to get these eyes. Forgive me, I'm self-righteous.
Wednesday's sunset. Maybe I don't always know what I'm doing....... Malibu?
I never really knew the blonde boys. Jerusalem died before my time.
I'll sift through skeletons in the closet, find the best one, and we'll set fire to your mother's house.
"The Great Form is all things in and including the known universe and all things beyond compressed into a singularity which can only be measured in the planck length held in the hands of an Abrahamic child."
If only my father had a wider vocabulary or was more conscious, or if only I had listened more and paid attention. Our traits? We're right about other peoples' lives.
Your friends' friends. If only you could hold that picture between your lips long enough. When we take the ride, I watch you as you turn your head.
All I can say is that I'm not stupid. I have time to think and I know what you think. Everyday, when Wednesday comes, and over the bridge and rainbow
Sorry.
I'm in your own backyard, and your city's crying. Other than love, I relate to only the strangers
Cultural superiority... Generation Superiority. Like Kaku said, we're kind of like teenagers driving cars. We Californians don't respect elders, or anyone. I've got friends in low places. Thankfully, I always knew a thing or two about morality. We should pay more attention to Asmiov's Last Question. The increase of entropy, after all... ain't what it used to be.
And easily enamored almost as if by some anachronistic anomaly saving face for filibusters falling in between Erie and Englewood displaced and displeased with racial makeup moving mellifluously over mountains talking over your head sounding a hymn.
About face
As eerie as it may seem, I suppose I'm coming to understand it, but Ohio is plagued with pessimism. In comparison to the Inland SoCal, this area is doing far better, though the general population is dressed up in frowns and high tempers. Still, decades of a declining economy have, I suppose, taken their toll on this tired people. And so the exodus has begun, but are the natives of this state prepared for the world beyond it's borders? To put it simply, no, not in my opinion.
About face
Making mistakes manageable as machines for a meager profit profound in moving malicious madness as more misunderstood misguided misconceptions about our conception, that if one is born either/or, then there is no tabula rasa
About face
Darwinism rendered slightly irrelevant in the face of homosexuality, or, homosexuality being no more than perversity and/or domination of(in an attempt to feel superior than) the same sex. Metaphysics aside, of course. Either way, tabula rasa explains none of it, therefore, I claim it to be a false idea, as most people will agree, that sexual orientation is not nurture, but rather, nature... Or is it. As someone who proclaims love and attraction to both males and females alike, these thoughts are very interesting to me. Though let the records show: I've never met a faggot even remotely close to as poor as I have been.
But I've been underwater for too long.
Hold my hands because my story's a little crazy, and not too many people believe it, but I'll reassure them because I know more about my enemies in high places than they know about me. God is a name that will be said to a ticket from the other plain. To and the there. Overwhelmingly violent. It's a girl thing. Actually, I just want to hurt. A creeping isolation does not depress, rather it serves to makes us, and brother Jerusalem overwhelmingly violent. I haven't got the heart of a liberal. Rise from the hole and now you burn, for once the eye overwhelmingly God's a name that can be said to these thoughts covet covet coping cope, like flies on shit, away from everyone fucked, away to a boat you know it mean to me well okay a me a fuck it with a ticket to the other plain
Two hours 'til Friday's sirens. Back home, I'd hear sirens every fifteen minutes. It's good to know the city is alive, and the people live without dead time.
I am entirely without guilt. And that alone means the world cannot match my accomplishments.
But still, I'm face first on the floor, and I says, I'm crashing here tonight, I'm always crashing.
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