| Dude we so did the
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[Sep. 24th, 2005|12:22 am] |
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Dude we so did the jump paralel to hamilton and i hit the ceiling baw ha ha |
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| Stripper lipstick two dollar lap
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[Sep. 24th, 2005|12:16 am] |
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Stripper lipstick two dollar lap dances being eaten out on stage polishing off a bottle of asti feeling ok |
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| yet another day of boredom
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[Sep. 8th, 2005|01:28 pm] |
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yet another day of boredom and stifling my rage |
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| Frank is Gawd!
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[Sep. 7th, 2005|12:32 pm] |
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Apparently post via email has been fixed, as evidenced by my last post. Let's see how quick this is . . . |
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| As Much as I Love New Things |
[Sep. 7th, 2005|12:00 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  cynical | ] |
I utterly hated Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Misery! |
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| In Case of Emergency, Break Glass |
[Aug. 31st, 2005|08:25 pm] |
Birdhouse in your Soul – BNL
If finally told my invisible friend some of the stuff that has been floating around my head since I read “Haunted.” I’ve been through ‘therapy.’ I went to college to study myself. Egotistical! All to learn I prefer being warped than to being plain.
Merman – Tori Amos
The biggest drop is over. Statistically, I’m in the clear. Perhaps I did don her hair to keep her beasts at bay. Perhaps to draw them out.
Short Skirt, Long Jacket – Cake
But this half-life of being her shadow is over. There will be no trinity. It has broken and perhaps that was the only break to concern myself over. Maybe there is nothing to escape from, the freedom of loving the cage.
Driven Like the Snow – SoM
I can’t waste another second. |
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[Jul. 16th, 2005|10:28 pm] |
Sometimes I just wish I’d go crazy all the way instead of this half-assed bullshit. I’m feeling hard-core agoraphobic and anti-social. I’ve been planning and scheming all week only to be presented with the very thing I want and refuse it.
He started calling again. |
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| Any 20th Century Doctors Care to Induce Hysterical Paroxysm? |
[Apr. 4th, 2005|08:27 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  morose | ] |
And yes, that is me on the right :/ |
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[Mar. 28th, 2005|07:02 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  gloomy | ] |
 | You scored as Mindfuck. Congratulations, you scored Mindfuck. You've probably seen a lot of movies, and have grown to hate mainstream shit. You're looking for the movie that will leave you breathless, and with 21 questions to think about. Check out: Donnie Darko, Being John Malkovich, Pulp Fiction, Memento.
Mindfuck | | 95% | Artistic | | 85% | Sci-Fi/Fantasy | | 65% | Sadistic Humour | | 65% | Drama/Suspense | | 60% | Romantic Comedy | | 35% | Mindless Action Flick | | 25% |
Movie Recommendation.
created with QuizFarm.com |
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| Thoughts Right Now . . . |
[Mar. 24th, 2005|12:39 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  giddy | ] |
It is it weird to wonder what Steven Hawking sounds like in the throes of passion? |
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| FURB |
[Mar. 18th, 2005|09:53 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  chipper | ] |
(You know there is two sides to every story)
See I don't know why you cryin' like a bitch
Talkin' shit like a snitch
Why you write a song 'bout me
If you really didn't care
You wouldn't wanna share
Tellin' everybody just how you feel
Fuck what I did was your fault somehow
Fuck the presents, I threw all that shit out
Fuck all the cryin' it didn't mean jack
Well guess what yo, fuck you right back
Fuck what I did was your fault somehow
Fuck the presents, I threw all that shit out
Fuck all the cryin' it didn't mean jack
Well guess what yo, fuck you right back
You thought you could really make me moan
I had better sex all alone (ha ha ha ha)
I had to turn to your friend
Now you want me to come back
You must be smokin' crack
Im goin' else where and thats a fact
Fuck all those nights I moaned real loud
Fuck it, I faked it, aren't you proud
Fuck all those nights you thought you broke my back
Well guess what yo, your sex was wack
Fuck all those nights I moaned real loud
Fuck it, I faked it, aren't you proud
Fuck all those nights you thought you broke my back
Well guess what yo, your sex was wack
You questioned did I care
Maybe I would have if you woulda gone down there
Now it's over
But I do admit i'm glad I didn't catch your crabs
I can't sweat that cause I got to go
Fuck what I did was your fault somehow
Fuck the presents, I threw all that shit out
Fuck all the cryin' it didn't mean jack
Well guess what yo, fuck you right back.
You made me do this |
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| Sometimes Madonna Does Rule . . . |
[Mar. 12th, 2005|10:18 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  amused | ] |
"I'm not your bitch, don't hang your shit on me." |
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[Mar. 8th, 2005|04:48 pm] |
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Look at me, I'm fucking Switerland. I'm so nuetral - so fucking nuetral. Have your pain - Choke on it you fucking bitch. But he' selfish - so selfish that I won't bother but to feed misinformation and spREAD lies, lies lies lies - FUCK IT ALL |
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[Mar. 8th, 2005|04:42 pm] |
September 29, 1984 Dear so and so
Gather me up because I'm lost
Or I'm back where I started from
I'm crawling on the floor rolling on the ground
I might cry I won't go home
I am turning up in circles
And I'm spinning on my knuckles
Don't forget that there are circles left undone
And very close to me
Forgive me comfort me
I'm crawling on the floor rolling on the ground
There's a blanket wrapped around my head
I'm moving in a line that's shaped like this
I'm holding in my breath
I have a room
Can you tell if I am lying
Don't forget I'm living inside the space where walls and floor meet
There's a box insied my chest
An animal stuffed with my frustrations
Can you hear me?
Don't forget that I'm alone when you're away
You make me act like other people do forgive me
Comfort me You comfort me You make me die
I'm gonna cry I won't go home
Don't kill the god of sadness
Just don't let her get you down
See the man inside this book I read can't handle his own head
So what the hell am I supposed to do ?
I wonder how he died
My hands are shaking don't you love me anymore
I only need a person, keep my shoulders
Stand around lie down move your hand above the floor
Gather me up because I'm lost
Or I'm back where I started from
I'm crawling on the floor rolling on the ground
I'm gonna cry you look for me
Love Kristin
P.S. keep them coming |
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[Feb. 26th, 2005|01:47 am] |
groovy baby
a blast from the past
stuck in between worlds
evelyn says not to compare
Aspenstand
Mensa and Waverly
squirrels under taffea
exploding bladders
Thanatos
Wildwood face crack
comfort and hobbits
return to ice
But
Don't
Sell
Memories
? |
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[Feb. 26th, 2005|01:42 am] |
Lady Lazarus
I have done it again.
One year in every ten
I manage it-----
A sort of walking miracle, my skin
Bright as a Nazi lampshade,
My right foot
A paperweight,
My featureless, fine
Jew linen.
Peel off the napkin
O my enemy.
Do I terrify?-------
The nose, the eye pits, the full set of teeth?
The sour breath
Will vanish in a day.
Soon, soon the flesh
The grave cave ate will be
At home on me
And I a smiling woman.
I am only thirty.
And like the cat I have nine times to die.
This is Number Three.
What a trash
To annihilate each decade.
What a million filaments.
The Peanut-crunching crowd
Shoves in to see
Them unwrap me hand in foot ------
The big strip tease.
Gentleman , ladies
These are my hands
My knees.
I may be skin and bone,
Nevertheless, I am the same, identical woman.
The first time it happened I was ten.
It was an accident.
The second time I meant
To last it out and not come back at all.
I rocked shut
As a seashell.
They had to call and call
And pick the worms off me like sticky pearls.
Dying
Is an art, like everything else.
I do it exceptionally well.
I do it so it feels like hell.
I do it so it feels real.
I guess you could say I've a call.
It's easy enough to do it in a cell.
It's easy enough to do it and stay put.
It's the theatrical
Comeback in broad day
To the same place, the same face, the same brute
Amused shout:
'A miracle!'
That knocks me out.
There is a charge
For the eyeing my scars, there is a charge
For the hearing of my heart---
It really goes.
And there is a charge, a very large charge
For a word or a touch
Or a bit of blood
Or a piece of my hair on my clothes.
So, so, Herr Doktor.
So, Herr Enemy.
I am your opus,
I am your valuable,
The pure gold baby
That melts to a shriek.
I turn and burn.
Do not think I underestimate your great concern.
Ash, ash---
You poke and stir.
Flesh, bone, there is nothing there----
A cake of soap,
A wedding ring,
A gold filling.
Herr God, Herr Lucifer
Beware
Beware.
Out of the ash
I rise with my red hair
And I eat men like air. |
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[Feb. 17th, 2005|12:35 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | gloomy | ] |
April 18
the slime of all my yesterdays
rots in the hollow of my skull
and if my stomach would contract
because of some explicable phenomenon
such as pregnancy or constipation
I would not remember you
or that because of sleep
infrequent as a moon of greencheese
that because of food
nourishing as violet leaves
that because of these
and in a few fatal yards of grass
in a few spaces of sky and treetops
a future was lost yesterday
as easily and irretrievably
as a tennis ball at twilight |
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| mein Herz schlägt nicht mehr weiter |
[Feb. 11th, 2005|06:25 pm] |
He’ll leave you alone in a desert, or
Drop you on your fat, stupid head, yelling.
Smashing chairs, blundering, as he scorns your
Tears, always blind to what they are telling.
He’ll grind, oh delicious friction, sweet mints,
Smiling as he drugs you, dragging you down,
Watching empty eyes through a wiry fence.
“To adorn you, you slut, a milky crown.”
He’ll make you dance on a pin, gorgeously,
No thrill in the capture, only the hunt,
Maybe you are just a bitch, a Twinkie,
A goat, miserable black hearted cunt.
All I’ve ever had, all I’ve never been
Scrubbing reveals leather never comes clean.
glc-2.11.05 |
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[Jan. 27th, 2005|01:13 pm] |
What makes you think that you have won
When the battle has only just begun?
Let the punishment fit the crime
Bad things come to those in all good time
My mistake was to put you first
Deceitful bubble was so soon to burst
I asked you - believe in just us
Now my faith lie in mine own justice
How many times must I say I'm not sorry?
And how many ways can I show I don't care?
Rotting bodies of enemies
Cannot smell sweet enough to me
What is the price of a friend
Who would carry out revenge?
In this bleak world of absent laws
One in which the just are whores
An honor to die for the truth
Eye for an eye, tooth for tooth
How many times must I say I'm not sorry?
And how many ways can I show
I don't care? |
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melancholy