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guys are bastards
04.03.04 (3:31 am)   [edit]
what do you have if you have all the words in the entire world?

...you have a whole lot of words.
 
an ode to all of us.
02.24.04 (7:41 pm)   [edit]
you can never be too careful.

he cut lines so carefully on the tattooed mirror: inked with words and delusions of another time. simple sayings and words that made no sense but were believed at the time -- amature addicts in the making.

he wasn't so amature anymore.

swish, swish, chop, slide.

cards handled like magic, skilled possessions glinting white in the overhead lights. the little twisted bag slowly was emptied into perfect powder lines, which dissapeared like smoke up his nose.
his irises would dissapear, too: flooded by the black that nearly dripped down his face, he grew with liquid eyes.

and he came at me with new proud, newfound acceptance and smiled. we find faith in all the wrong places, sometimes. sometimes we rush growing up so fast we forget where we were headed. sometimes we don't even know where we were headed, sometimes we just wish.
wish, wish, wish. and as soon as you find something, you go with it.

and he went, with it.
and he went, with it: to the store and the bank, little dirty card in hand, evil phone in hand, green bills with more stories than all of us past, exchanged, rolled..

more lines, and lines, and lines.
lines so big they make your nose bleed, cured only by powder.
"everything at a price", you laugh at me. and an 8ball costs 200.
and an 8ball costs your nose cartilidge, and late nites, and mornings.. and the days after, feeling like shit and being tired.
and everything at a price, i once told you, referring to something completely different, of course.

fuck you.
i told you everything i knew, i told you every single thing. and maybe its my fault, for telling you too much, but maybe its my fault, for not telling you it all. i thought you would learn something, i thought all of us would learn, something. but we do, and we do. only sometimes
what we learn isnt learnt fast enough.. and only sometimes we realize (in retrospect, staring at the white ceiling, smelling fake-cleanness and surrounded in blue sheets).
fuck you for being everything i almost remembered, fuck you for taking everything i knew and playing it all back for me, all right in front of my nose but just out of my reach.

right in front of my nose.. little white lines tempting me. and one

touch of your powder against my tongue will numb everything -- leave

me with that (all too familiar) bitter taste and the emptiness i'll feel.
and maybe, if we take a little bit more, we'll talk more. and we'll get chills later, you'll feel cold and i'll feel hot, i'll feel sick, and i'll suddenly b reminded (oh so suddenly) that i haven't eaten in much too long. maybe 12 hours. maybe more.
and we'll lay down, because its morning now, because we're broke and empty and over now, and we'll "sleep"

but sleep wont come yet.
sleep wont come for a very, long, time.

or maybe too soon, maybe weve been dreaming this whole time --

thinking up stories and making up all those things we will tell people later, when today is just a memory and just a faded picture and just a permanent letter, inked forever on my back.
 
randoms.
02.24.04 (7:23 pm)   [edit]
day in & day out & nothing ever changes

& isn't everything perfect?

[i]didn't you think we were going to die last nite?[/i]
 
shower inspiration
02.24.04 (1:34 am)   [edit]
[u]i think best when i have water running down my naked body, what can i say.[/u]


she peered at me from the other side of the glass and told me not to worry.
altho worry, i did, and worry, i always would.

she told me silly things, told me i was "good enough", and told me all the things i wish i believed, and all the things i wished that he'd believe, and all those silly fairytales we read before bed.

she would read me fairytales, as i lay in bed with my eyesclosed, told me stories about how one day things would be perfect, perfect, [i]perfect.[/i]

she tells me i don't search as much as i used to, and that i really should settle down.

in stories, in words, i can feel her longing. others tell me all the places they want to go -- but for her, theres only one.
and she tells me how she wistfully dreams sometimes, at work, while dissapearing dirt off pans of flying somewhere else.. stepping off the plane in a far away land all by herself.
i can see the look in her eyes when she tells me these things, and i dont think she knows i can see it.
she loves him, that much i can tell, for shore.
and how long has it been? how long will it ever be...

...she still wears his ring, tiny and silent, wrapped forever around her finger -- where she wishes he would be. if she can't have him any other way, atleast she can have him forever. a silent motrementary to the one who got away -- the only one who ever got away, the only one she couldn't catch.

i see her, sometimes, walking slowly in the field of wildflowers, sunlight glinting off her golden hair and her long wispy dress floating about her. she doesnt know i see her, sometimes.
sometimes she looks so sad in the bright sunlight, i see her staring at the clouds, and wishing she was somewhere else.

she tells us she's happy other times, and i almost believe she is..

she has no reason not to be, no reason other than him, i mean.
she has the perfect life, she has the ideal dream, yet she doesnt realize this because shes still sleeping.

sometimes when i cant sleep i sneak downstairs and catch her out on the patio, staring up at the sky. i can see her eyes so clearly in the moonlight, the stars lighting her pale face like spotlights, shining only on her..
..her hair is light brown now, and it fans about her face like a halo.
she watches the stars and i wonder if she'll ever wake up.

later, she'll come inside, and ask me why i'm still up, she'll ask me what i'm wondering.
and i'll lie and tell her i had a bad dream -- and she'll stroke my hair and tell me stories.. stories of a better time, stories of him, stories of before.

she'll tell me how someday i'll find my prince, the man who will make every little thing all right and everything will be perfect, just like in the fairytales.
and i see the sadness in her eyes as she speaks, and i wonder if she sees mine.

i wonder if thats why she tells me these stories.

i stare in her deep eyes and feel so much emotion and yearning that it almost breaks me away, it almost takes me to another place, and i want to reach out and touch her, to feel how real...
..i want her to be real, realer than this; i want her to be in front of me fully, so i can reach out and touch her and perhaps fix all the tragedies that have happened to both of us, to all of us, to me.

and most of all, i want to take her hand and smile, and tell her those same fairytales. about a guy in the summer, about sunrises and techno, about a land too far away.

and most of all, i want to take her hand and show her a place thats much greener than here, and take her someplace far, far away from here.

but i cant.. and when something else breaks our stance, and i look away, and she looks away, and we both carry on our lives that run
exactly the exact same
yet completely different............
 
time
02.24.04 (1:30 am)   [edit]
they told me, with patience in their eyes,
that time would fix this.

they told me he had fixed things for them, too,
and they told me what city he lived in.

i emptied tank after tank of gas after that,
driving aimlessly in my little red car,
up and down nameless streets in a city i didnt know
looking for him.

they didnt tell me his adress, but they were certain i'd find it,
i was certain i wouldn't find it unless i wasted nights.
and so i did:
my car drank gas and i drove until all the streets looked the same
and drove some more
until i realized i had been driving in circles
for the past fifty days
and then i went home.

i paced and i wondered and i worried.
and where was time?
where was he?

and those who were wiser than me just smiled
and told me not to worry,
for some day i would find him
some day time would be here.

i sent letters, wrote notes, bought cards.
told him how much fun he would have,
if he only visited.

and he came to visit everyone else;
those much older than me,
those unworthy..
those who didn't want anything.

[i]so why not me?[/i]

i waited around year after year,
but time never called.

peered out the peephole and waited by the window,
hoping just for a second to see his car..
(even tho i didnt even know what he drove)
but he would never come.

while i was waiting by the door,
time snuck in the window
and left out the backdoor.

[i]
i went to visit time today
but he wasn't there. [/i]
 
these are the things i remember
02.14.04 (2:21 am)   [edit]
[i]change one thing, change everything.
i have not forgotten
we miss you, ty.[/i]

remember days of drinking and drugs, days of powders that would make my nose run and fuck up my head with delusions of granduier. remember loud music, and jumping on couches and passing out on that mottled ash grey carpet.
remember things like: throwing up in the bathroom with you, and lemon juice and pills and chemicals. remember paranoia and bright bathroom lights and eyes that would always b big. remember smiles and falsities and weekends and week nites.

remember delusion.

remember late nites [i](and days, and nites)[/i] sitting with you chained to a pole becuase i didnt like who you were becoming. [i]do you remember throwing up? [/i]how you screamed at me to fuck off, how you screamed that you hated me and i wias terrible for putting you thro this.
how you told me you hated me.
remember tears, and i crying in a ball as i watched you, you prolly hurt me more than i ever hurt you, more than anything ever hurt you, but who am i to say.

i remember your eyes so dark and how your wrists stuck skinny out your sleeves when i last saw you. pupils like pinheads and laced all with red. [i](red spiderwebs and pupils like pinheads)[/i]
i remember bright beads and you being one with the music in the middle of a crowded party, all alive with glowsticks and everyone would only watch you.
i remember you slumped in a corner, weak. needles riddling your arms and bruises.. [i](purple candy bruises which sneaked and sneared at me from their homes on your pale arms)[/i]
i remember the warmth: you telling me to get my tongue pierced and saving me the biggest rails: "here nyne, take one for the team!"
i remember your eyes, and your quasi-worry and your quasi-awakeness, i can still feel [i](your fist against my face)[/i]
i remember you pulling jeff and his knife away from me. i hear your voice still, i remember you throwing him into the bushes and me into safety
i remember you with your best friend, your dark angel, your dragon. you with the needle all ready, you with your belt around your arm, you with that look on your face.

[i]i remember everything.[/i]

and i wish things, sometimes. wish for better memories, wish for the ability to go back,

wish for [i]one thing[/i].

cose if i could change one thing,
[i]it would change everything.[/i]
 
eeevil, ornery scandalous and evil, most definitly..
02.13.04 (1:53 am)   [edit]
[b]3 entries found for [i]scandalous[/i].[/b]


[b]scan·dal·ous [/b] ( P ) [u]Pronunciation Key [/u](skndl-s)
[i]adj. [/i]
1. Causing scandal; shocking: [i]scandalous behavior[/i].
2. Containing material damaging to reputation; defamatory: [i]a scandalous exposé[/i].

------------------------- ------------------------- ------------------------- -----
[b]scandal·ous·ly[/b] [i]adv. [/i]
[b]scandal·ous·ness [/b][i]n.[/i]



[b]2 entries found for [i]fuck[/i].[/b]

[b]fuck [/b] ( P ) [u]Pronunciation K[/u]ey (fk) [i]Vulgar Slang [/i]
[i]v.[/i] [b]fucked, fuck·ing, fucks [/b][i]v.[/i] tr.
1. To have sexual intercourse with.
2. To take advantage of, betray, or cheat; victimize.
3. Used in the imperative as a signal of angry dismissal.

[i]v.[/i] intr.
1. To engage in sexual intercourse.
2. To act wastefully or foolishly.
3. To interfere; meddle. Often used with [i]with[/i].

[i]n. [/i]
1. An act of sexual intercourse.
2. A partner in sexual intercourse.
3. A despised person.
4. Used as an intensive: [i][b]What the fuck did you do that for? [/b][/i]

[b]interj. [/b]
1. Used to express extreme displeasure.
[b]
Phrasal Verbs:
fuck off[/b]
1. Used in the imperative as a signal of angry dismissal.
2. To spend time idly.
3. To masturbate.

[b]fuck over[/b]
1. To treat unfairly; take advantage of.

[b]fuck up[/b]
1. To make a mistake; bungle something.
2. To act carelessly, foolishly, or incorrectly.
3. To cause to be intoxicated.

fuck man, dictionary.com kicks my ass, takes my name, AND THEN throws sand in my eyes while im down.
way to go.
 
doctor, doctor, please cure me of this existance.
02.12.04 (12:21 am)   [edit]
and just because you can't see these scars doesnt mean they're not there.

how can i always tell when some of this just ISNT going to STICK?

(i didnt know that with you, tho. and.. im kinda glad i didnt.)

i just wish someone would come save me, and tell me everyhting i'm s'pozed to do.

A
 
stupid, stupid. stupid.
02.12.04 (12:19 am)   [edit]
and god, how many times i imagine.
god, how many times i imagine nothing more than me stepping on a plane and flying far from here...
just back into everyhting from the past, but everything new, back into a world of green trees and big rivers.

i remember that, you didnt think i would, didn't you?

but of course i remember that: that was all i remembered for a very long time.

and it seems like just yesterday, i can see those rapids so clearly in my mind (and at the same time, its feelings like this that remind me they're never going to leave)

i want nothing more than to step out of my car and drive down your street........

...but it could never happen.

because if we wanted to change just one thing, we would have to change everything.
 
you are never getting me back.
02.10.04 (12:15 am)   [edit]
[i]"you prolly shoulda realized you couldn't live without me before you let me go."[/i]



i can still [b][u]feel. [/u][/b]
[i](your [u]fist[/u] against my [u]face[/u].)[/i]

& i remember things like this:
~ your hands on my chest
~ your kiss on my lips...

~ your fist on my face.

[u] [/u]you never really used
[u] [/u]your wrench for anything
[u] [/u]else.
(other than this.)

-- 2.09.04
 
if you took a picture, this is what you'd see.
02.07.04 (3:12 am)   [edit]
we all have a past.
and if you wonder why i hold so close to mine, its because without it,

i wouldn't be me.

all of these words are just rememberings.
not because i cared, even, just because i want to remember.
i want to remember all of this.

i can't remember the name of my first kiss. i remember the date, i remember november 17th, i remember what i was wearing and what music we were listening to, but i don't remember his name.

i can't remember the day i met my best friend. i remember the pictures and everything that came after that, but the day? i can't.

i can't remember the last time i talked to.. him. or how i sayd goodbye. i remember i was shitted because it was a bad time, and i remember it was october, i rememebr it was 2001, but that's it, thats it.

and its things like this i want to remember, and its things like this that make me who i am.

things like late night car chases in my precidia with adam, rails and little things i put in my mouth without really knowing what they'll do. things like walking in the rain, with tears raining down my face at 3am looking for a street name. and lies. wearing no underwear and my dark red cords. late night walks, and late night walks, and sneaking out my basement door, back when i had a curfew. grade 11. rocky point and rocky point fights, beer bottles and skateboards.
drinking and being drunk, walking down dark paths with 4" inches, and a drunk. bushes and not being scared. rides home from wierd guys, and centenial people. burnaby mountain, and rides home from wierd guys.
(but nice guys). loud speakers and being offered popcorn, that field. and that guy.. (RIP.) and tyler. doing drugs and passing out on couches, k. needles and bubbles, empty bottles and broken eyes. and orange carnations. cornation. blue tracksuits with special words, your special hats. cars, drinking, those chicks kissing. and how you hated that. sarah. "youre turning me on more than my gf does.." breaking in to the swimming pool and being scared. and coke! and grams of coke in
one nite. drugs and drugs and dropping out of school. and being KICKED out of school. skipping.. too.. much. jen and northvan, handsworth people. sarah calling mark and pretending to be her step mom, and being crazy. snowboarding and throwing snowballs, and losing my virginity. in teh back of the bus. or something. free cars and blue eyes, and green eyes, and brown eyes.. and those eyes. and the eyes that ask me "have you learned nothing?" sunsets and sun rises, and missing, everything. missing all days cose i havent slept: you. laying on the floor holding hands, dreams of mountains and blue skies. and fucking in a barn somewhere. music and laying in a field.. and your car. your brothers gfs fixing car. green nailpolish and cave raves. raves in a cave! and you were s'pozed to take me. we were s'pozed to take over the world.. driving with loud music. meeting wierdoes..
running around naked on a field, and hottubs. skinny dipping, and getting my car smashed. getting smashed and kissing girls. ending up.. where? who knows. drugs and drinking, throwing bottles out the window. dennys at 4am, drunk. driving downtown hanging out the window and yelling. tickets. cop searches. "no officer, im not drunk. im high on coke, but im not drunk!" bus rides and bein hungover, blue cars and red cars and silver cars. stalking and meeting blue eyes.. and notes.
and notes.. for me? notes filling up boxes in my room, and doing nothing. and doing so good.. and doing so bad. and seventeen, and seventeen, and tripping and falling, seventeen times.. or just 7. stalking hatchbacks and getting another number. and 30 seconds. and laughing, and talking, and dying in my car with the music up. watching movies with you, and watching movies with you and you feeling so bad we'd have to leave. and me feeling so bad i'd end up leaving, in teh end. phone calls late, and phone calls late, and walking in the pouring rain.

and these are the random things i randomly remember.

and these are the things that make me me.

and you wonder why i hold on so tight to my past, why this single letter wraps itself around me and hangs from my neck..

and i'll tell you why i hold on so tight.
[i]its because its all ive really got.[/i]
 
tyler adam carlson
02.02.04 (3:27 am)   [edit]
..and in 13 days, you would have been 21.
(repost from dec. 14th cose its that time of year.. and i honestly think this is the best thing i've ever written.)


------

[i]i will never forget...[/i]

...beeg ears and eyebrow barbells with cat ("fox, damn it!") heads. huge black tribal across your back, your black dragon, your dark angel. techno ("its electronica or TRANCE, nyne!!") lover. scooter! and loud sounds and good bass. colored candy, glow-in-the-dark and purple and yellow and orange.. beads. on your wrist. [i]up and down your arms[/i].. ...beeg baggy hoodies and even beeger pants. pants so beeg we'd lose your shoes, and, hip hop? loud sounds and black hatchbacks and you driving too fast. and being so loud!! spiky brown (and black, and blue!) hair.. [i].. and black, and blue.. ..bruises up and down your arms... [/i]..cancer sticks and trees and empty broken bottles. vodka ("its WATER, nyne!!") and pills and you downing a 26 in twenty

minutes. and passing out on the couch. ...[i]you passing out on the couch. [/i]
brown eyes and black eyes.. [i]..black eyes[/i]. eyes wide as pennies and smiles all across your face. hands (and bags) full of pills: "here, nyne, this one is the best!" and flying on kites. on that blue couch.

and you, with your lip pierced, telling me i should get my tongue pierced. cose you had never kissed a chick with a tongue barbell, and you wanted an excuse to kiss me. e and being artifically happy, artifically in love with.. eeeverything. even the scene, expeccially the scene. and the music, oh, how you lived the music..

and the scene. [i]god damn[/i]. late nights and poison smoke and acid spills. zoning out and laughing, passing out and breaking. remembering, everything. random pill samples and being high. dancing for hours, overnites in the hospital cose i was a fighter. cose YOU were a fighter, cose i hadn't been down

in 6 days. ...loud music, fake ids and driving too fast. speeeeding.

k. "hay nyne.. wanna put the special back in k?" being nearly k.o'd.
being high. trips to shady neighbourhoods in surrey. cupboards full of bottles; you laughing at me while i cleaned up a storm, you promising me you'd "come back" ..and then forgetting. [i]music that isn't loud enough[/i]. sticky brown death, pure synthetic white powder that isnt simpathetic at all. white powder that would always end up making you throw up -- [i]it would make me throw up too.[/i] spoons and matches and half-closed eyes. bruises up and down your arms.

and i never saw you smile after that.

[b]february 14th, 1983 -- april 12, 2001.[/b]

[i]and remembering, everything.[/i]
 
GOD DAMN.
02.02.04 (3:11 am)   [edit]
had my old song stuck in my head randomly after work. ive been having heaps of random-ness in thoughts lately. hmm. wonder why.

[i]"and you-- you were all i'd ever wanted, too bad i had to have you. and tonite-- you're going to tell me you're going to change: "we can make this right".. i'll tell you when.."[/i]

and then, driving home wondering if i would be driving in the same way if i lived anywhere else. if i could take my little glowing red hearts and put them in another car. if i would still feel. and suddenly, more words:

[b]love is a hole. you told me you lived in a hole, once.
and i spent the rest of my life looking.[/b]

and i will forever b looking.

[i](can i take your picture? i want to remember you exactly like this for when you leave. can i keep a part of you with me for ever.)[/i]
 
fairytale.
01.31.04 (1:43 pm)   [edit]
[i]"you're like my knight in shining armor, 'cept you wear torn jeans & a hoodie, & you don't save me at all."[/i]

my wrists feel so naked without your ugly words splattered across them. waiting (not-so) patiently for the phone; comatose. struggling to take my own advice, struggling to "b strong." i feel.. walking drunk over millions of jagged stones. i feel.. falling, i feel the needle-rocks as they slash my skin and pour me out from the inside. or maybe that's you -- maybe you're just desperate to taste my blood again (as it drips from my lips from the place where you met them.)
dark crimson corrupts white: painful stains across my pretty skin, rolling in waves & tumbling down my pretty arms, my legs. my eyes leak & decorate the ground like wintertime, my red meshes & mingles & dances across the snow between my feet, the snow that ISN'T between my feet...

& just before i fall asleep i see everything as white; no red, & in my oxygen-deprived stupor, believe i've been saved.

[i]you're like my knight in shining armor, 'cept you wear torn jeans & a hoodie, & you don't save me. at all.[/i]
 
my rainstorm.
01.30.04 (3:47 am)   [edit]
i want to stand in the rain and let the strong droplets tear the pain and troubles away from my naked skin. i want to lay down and feel the water surround me, pummelling me and coursing wet circles and shapes across my body. i want you to take me with you, when the rain swells and relaxes, and carry me away from here, carry me away from me.
carry me downstream and down the road on your wet little fingertips, coursing and teasing me, telling me to follow you.
i want to follow you.
i want to be dragged from my troubles and away from the pain downstream with the rain.

and then, when the skies clear and the rain stops, and the final footprints from the skies above fade away and go grey,

i want to be no where to b found.

and i want to fade away and go grey and dissapear, from here.

take me with you. take me far away down stream in the storm.
(for i am already, halfway gone.
 
i'm a dreamer.
01.29.04 (12:30 am)   [edit]
sometimes i wish i could change everything.
sometimes i wish i didn't have all these stories, that i didnt experience all the bs ive had to experience.
sometimes i wish i had a "normal" life, and that i was motivated, and that i didnt do fucked up shit.
sometimes i wish my good friends long-term bfs wouldn't randomly kiss me.
sometimes i wish my friends wouldn't just call me when they NEEDED SOMETHING.
sometimes i wish i didnt do so much shit, for so many people.
sometimes i wish i was colder.
sometimes i wish for the wrong things.
sometimes i wish i had more 'real friends'.
sometimes i wish i only had a couple.
sometimes i wish i had a normal relationship, normal in the sense that i wouldnt have to worry about things, or try about stupid shit i shouldnt even have to try about.
sometimes i wish i could tell someone everything.
sometimes i wish someone knew me as well as i know myself (or DONT know myself), and that they would listen.. to all of this.
sometimes i wish i never met them, or any of them.. or any of them.. or any.. .. ..
sometimes i wish i.. never heard of placebo ..or .. freestyler..
sometimes i wish i was far away, in another place kinda like home, only greener and on the other side of the world.
sometimes i wish everything was differnt, sometimes i wish it was all the same as it used to be.
sometimes i wish we stayed in summer 2000.
sometimes i wish i wasn't so fucking idealistic..
..or not idealistic enough.
sometimes i wish none of this had ever happened, and that you never found me, and that i never found a god damn thing.......

sometimes i wish i wasn't me.
and sometimes i wish i could change everything.
 
thank god for letting go.
01.12.04 (5:50 am)   [edit]
of everything, i have learned that.

good things happen to shitty people
and shitty people happen to good things.

and sometimes i think that i am only
one of those shitty things.

...and on other days, like today, i think that maybe
its the other
way
around.
 
haha i kick ass!
01.08.04 (2:55 am)   [edit]
cleanin out old emails today and i found one i missed from the ex.

reading it, and it totally cracks me up. fuck, i love my bitchy streaks. they're so amusing.

(written the day before we broke up, coincidently, hahah.. and the nite after he bailed on me for his fudgepacking friends for the 39678th time)

[i]hi. thanks for calling tonite, it really proved to me that i was wrong about thinking you didnt care, and showed how much you really wanted to fix things. i'm glad you didn't bail (yet again), cose that woulda been really mean considering it's all you ever do anymore.

i know you don't care, but could you atleast have the decency to tell me not to bother, cose i hate stupidly waiting for you to break your word again and again. i know you'd rather see other girls and go out with your friends than hang out with me, i know i'm not a priority at all to you, and i know you hate being around me cose i'm "boring" and "mad all the time", but could you atleast stop lying and pretending you want to fix things when you obviously don't. i know i say this all the time, and i know you hate fighting but it's never gonna stop unless you figure shit out or just give up on all of this. i know your friends dont' know we're dating. stop lying. i m sick of being upset all the time because of you, because you're not worth it. and you have no idea how hard it is for me to be good when you're being such a prick. i know you think i'm always going to be here. but you need to figure out what the fuck it is you want.. because obviously it's not me, and if you keep on being an asshole then you're never going to see me again. so yeah. figure it out, because i'm getting really tired of being pissed off around you. goodbye.[/i]


..and he was still a prick, and a day later, i kept my word. heres a big FUCK YEAH for gettin rid of pricks. haha. FUCK YEAH.
 
that cd.
01.07.04 (12:10 am)   [edit]
the cd had been in my car for months. months and months. prolly atleast a year. atleast!

and i had never listened to it.

it just sat, and waited for.. what? who knows.

you told me i could have it.

i never wanted it, really, i just thought it would b some stupid cd: after all, i didnt recognize the writing on it as yours so it was one of your friends.. and your friends are all posers with shitty music.

so, the cd, sat.

cleanin out my car today, who knows why.
its too cold to b doing anything, let alone sitting in my car with the door open vaccuming.
but oh well.
i was inspired, or something. may as well b somewhat productive sometime.

so there i was.

and of courose, taking all the shit out of my car, so much shit. so much shit!

and i found your cd.
"my" cd, i guess.
that cd.

whatever.

and, i was right, it was full of all those poser overrated songs i thought it would b full of.
and it wasn't really YOURS, it was your friends.. but oh well. it was mine now, but i didnt really feel that much luckier with it.

but it made me remember things.

all sorts of things.

things like adam, and walking in the rain cose i was kicked out. the way i would always b at your house, always going to your house, always with you and your friends.. the way your friends drove my car when i was drunk, and i would drive you, when you were.. pissed. how i was always pissed. lines offa cars, loud music and "poser" beats. driving too fast with a full car and a glowing orange tank. knowing eyes and smiles, naughty thoughts you'd never know.. or would you? drinking and being drunk, getting kicked out of my house and that kitten. anthony and eyebrow rings with missing beads.. devon and that little red hatchback. smokes and smoking and smoking up.. and smoking 8 cigarettes a day then never again. blue sweaters and being cold. and wet. and.. happy? trying so hard. sitting on your cool leather couch and hearing matt downstairs. and hiding, downstairs, and in you and under covers and being under cover. and how we were always together. we were. always. together.

things i used to look back on as "bad memories" because they were memories with you, and you were such an asshole, and i hated you so much.
and its not that i was being out of hand, you really were terrible.
but im stronger now, and i can look back and realize what a FUCKING idiot i was, and smile.

i can smile now!
you never thought i would b able to do that, did you.

and i take the balloon you drew on, the one you drew on over a year ago, after that movie...

...and open my car door
just enough to sneak the hand holding the balloon out

..and let go.
 
..and fickle, i am, not.
01.05.04 (2:42 pm)   [edit]
"love is a fickle word, and fickle she is not"

love.
i love you. i love chocolate. i love fucking in the rain and getting all messy. i love.. everything.

my "friend" has been going out with her bf for 3 days now. they met 2 weeks prior to the whole "dating" thing. so... 17ish days?
17ish days.
"I LOVE HIM!" she tells me, and says that he's sayd it too. and they have cutesy little "I LOVE *****!!" things in their fucking msn names. fuck off!
oh yeah. its real love , thats for shore. i believe you can't love someone until you actually KNOW them.
but hay, i could be wrong, actually, i BET i am, considering everyone else seems to say 'i love you!" after a week or two nowadays. FUCK OFF. you people piss me off.
it pisses me off because it degrates everything. and i hate feeling degrated like nothing else.. (altho i should b used to that, HA HA HA!) its like saying to someone who has broken all the bones in their body "ow i stubbed my toe, my life sucks, i want to dieee".
fuck off! you dont know what love is after 2 weeks, TRUST ME. well, i guess it IS possible, but very very VERY rare. and i bet you're one of those fucking idiots where it just ISNT possible.
or maybe i'm just bitter.
hmmm.
but i digress.

you don't have to express your love for eachother by lying. or being delusional. JUST FUCK, FOR FUCKS SAKE. everyone fucks nowadays. its nothing sacred anymore, thats for shore.
i remember a time where you would only fuck someone after 6 months. 6 MONTHS! i remember waiting 8 months with an ex one time. hahaha, i was so funny back then. now, fucking is.. just... fucking.
i know people who have had more partners than serious relationships.. and.. uhh..
whatever.
its fucking.

and its fucking. and fucking, and fucking. theres "hay, you're fucking hawt! lets fuck." theres "hay! i'm drunk, lets fuck!" theres "hay, it's tuesday! lets fuck."
theres excuses.
and everything else.
and shore, thats fine, whatever. sex isnt always slow and romantic and candlelight and roses. nuh uh. its against-the-door-because- i-cant-fucking-wait sometimes too. and thats perfectly acceptable, because whatever. its just an action.

but for fucks sake, leave love alone.
is NOTHING sacred?
god knows they rape marriage on the fucking tv, all those god damn """"reality"""" shows where chicks meet their husbands for the first time at their WEDDING. and the "reality" part is to see how the 'newly-weds' get along!
what the fuck is this.
i dont have enough fingers on ONE HAND to count the number of friends i have/had that were ONCE engaged. what the hell?
where i come from, you get engaged ONCE. you get married ONCE, but maybe i'm old fashioned

"oh well, h e'll make a good first husband"
what the fuck? you have GOT to be kidding me.
please. i beg you. PLEASE.
but they never, ever are.

"what hte fuck are you on, nyne?"
i'll tell you.
so theres this girl i know, who used to date this guy a long, long time ago. for about a year, if that. they had been friends since kindergarten, and then he moved a month after she turned 15.
and it sucked, or something, because she "loved" h im, and he "loved" her, and she was only 14ish and in love.
and they talked a bit, but long distance calls arent cheap and pretty soon it was all over.
oh well.
things happen.

life goes on, right?
wrong!!
this guy had to move because his parents got divorced, and his mom wanted to run off with a new guy and the new guy didnt like kids. soooo... teh ex gets shipped halfway across the world to his dads. and his dad, is rich. owns a whole string of resorts across australia and nz. and so this exbf works there for 4ish years, slowly (or, not so slowly) getting rich.
flies back to his old hometown on a whim and buys a small apartment. and a car, a black lexus. and a cellphone. and a rock. a very fucking big rock.

and, i guess, decides to propose to his ex, the ex he hasnt seen/heard from/talked to in FOUR YEARS.

omg! thats so romantic, right!!
ha ha ha.
meet the exgf. oh yes, right here. ME. me me me.
now, i'm so much a cynic it hurts sometimes (okay, i lied: it hurts ALL the time). do i believe in this bs? hell no.
flying halfway across the world to give ME a ring that you could trade in and buy a CAR with isnt romantic.. its fucking SCARY.
and i'm really fucking SCARED right now.
 
i wish i was a masochist, atleast then this would b fun.
12.26.03 (4:52 am)   [edit]
She shattered

against his fist.
Her delicate glass body
smashed
into a rainfall of glittering
fragments on the
cold
marble floor.

Her face strung
crimson
where he hit her --
a crack slid down her cheek
and forever left its scar.
Sparkling shards of her
glittered
on the ground where she had fallen;
shocked.
The mess he had made
angered him
and he dissapeared
in a fury of rage from the room.

Later,
she knew,
she would be gently
picked off
the familiar marble
and[i] lovingly [/i]
glued back together.
Deep separations would become
spidery scars,
empty gaps would be filled,
cemented yet again.

The anger coloring her face,
her arms
and her legs
would dissapear.

But what she doesn't know
is that when its dark,
the fingers that slide
[i]carefully [/i]
over her glassy skin
will still get caught
on the edges he left

and bleed.
 
pale emptiness..
12.22.03 (11:38 pm)   [edit]
poision in your smile
chemicals in your teeth
consuming you
the happiness is gone, the last dollar spent
crumbs consumed,
smoke dissapated.
and now, nothing left
but me and you
[i]forever me and you.[/i]

you paint pictures with my blood
with my life
and with my mistakes.

you look at me through empty eyes and i wonder what you see
dirty smiles, pallid skin;
[i]just a monument of me[/i]

my eyes trace you as you turn:
arms full of bones
skin pulled tight across your skull.
dark spills beneath your eyes,
bruised at the wrist
running spots up your arm

you reak of late nights and poison smoke;
parties and corrupted thoughts

i look at you as you stare at me
[i]and i wonder what you see.[/i]

tears sneak and scurry from my bloodshot eyes
my familiar friends
unnoticed,
running dirty lines down my already dirty face

i look down, away from you --
away from the painful reality of you,
down at the sink.
and the mirror blurrs, my reflection's all the same in my tears
i know what you see.
the pale emptiness of me.
 
dope
12.22.03 (5:08 am)   [edit]
"just because you don't understand something
doesnt make it any less real"
 
fuck yeah.
12.21.03 (1:42 am)   [edit]
i;d just like to say, this past while, i;ve been the happiest i;ve ever been in my WHOLE ENTIRE LIFE. actually, its more than happiness, its just being so fucking completely.. complete. and secure. and content. [i]content.[/i]

and i fucking love it.

[i]"the only way you can hurt me now, is with your fists. and superficial bruises heal, so fuck off"[/i]
 
take your "innocent opinions" and FUCK OFF. kthanx :)
12.19.03 (8:11 pm)   [edit]
[i]and when you close your mind i close my mouth[/i]




artifical courage is fucking funny. as is artifical.. everything. but its still not enough to make up for lacking, everything.

so i got a piece of metal thro my nose today. a tiny blue rhinestone on my face. fuck yeah. fuck yeah. and i don't care what anyone has to say about that, or about the fact that i was as high as a fucking kite when i got it, because it's my life. mine mine mine. and no one could ever dream to touch this.

cose i wont let them.

and thats it.
thats [i]it.[/i]