FUCK THE CLASS OF 2011.
SERIOUSLY, YOU ALL ARE FUCKING BITERS AND ASSHOLES. WORST FRIENDS EVER.
I WOULD NEVER TREAT YOU SO COLDLY LIKE THAT. I HAVE TRIED TO INTEGRATE YOU INTO MY LIFE, INVITED YOU PLACES, GIVEN YOU THINGS AND LOVED YOU.
FUCK FUCK FUCK YOU. I'M NOT EVEN GOING TO SAY GOOD BYE, LET'S SEE IF YOU ACTUALLY NOTICE. I AM SICK OF TEXTING YOU ALL THE TIME AND YOU TELLING ME YOU'RE BUSY, TO ACTUALLY FIND OUT YOU'VE BEEN HANGING OUT WITH EVERYONE ELSE. PHOTOS, BITCH.
ALSO, SHE'S A FUCKING SOCIAL CLIMBER. SHE COLLECTS PEOPLE. YOU DON'T THINK SHE'S USING YOU?
AND "YOU", I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT THE FUCK YOUR PROBLEM IS, BUT I GUESS YOU DIDN'T LIKE THE FACT THAT I QUESTIONED YOUR FUCKING AUTHORITY ON JUDGING MY LIFE. HAH.
GTFO. THE SOONER THE BETTER.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Monday, May 2, 2011
meh
I am silent, cold and speak in black and white tones like
those movies you watch with your grandparents
to learn what it feels like to be feel old.
Dreams in moral virtues and hues of baby blues,
the way you read me, man, you read me just right
with text scrolling in yellow glints across my face.
I am perfectly made in the image of some god
with curled curls and pearly whites adorned with jeweled crowns
and long trimmed nails. The pictures never looked as glorious or
felt as smooth as that long practiced red lipped kiss on a white
stained wall.
But now we stand woven and teased out like the louse that has taken
shelter in that eyebrow follicle that twitches when you laugh.
Glamor, baby, you have it all, and I can only stare and drool
in the anticipation that time will have you moving towards me,
looking, staring, comparing...
You held my heart strained against the cracked porcelain
mane of the beast you sold your records to
Tip tapping the change in your pocket, so hard to beat
figuring I'd keep quiet the harder you'd squeeze.
You had me hello and now you've left me with no goodbye
like the sale of some used pantyhose drawn in at the seams,
too tight to breathe.
Dressed like the doll you had painted me to be, I
walk, I talk like some dead cadaver knowing the jokes
you had trained me to believe. I live for this.
I die for this.
Your voice hisses from the train as the whistles clang and bang
my hands against the grate leaving me behind
perfectly poised for the meeting of friends,
but you are no friend,
but a coming of news, and a poor soul with even slower aim,
And I take pity, pity, pity
Over every drawled out word thinking the chapter draws nigh
to an end, a place to begin, restart, befriend.
My heel is broken, cracked skin runs red, and the blues of my
thighs to the yellows on my ribs turn purple upon
my asking, like an invitation to play, or more so,
a demand to invent, to hide, to circumvent.
give me a deal, man, you read me so well.
It's easier when this stuff just crawls out of the woodwork, you know? I need to do this more often as it's like meditation and release. Feels good to put words to work.
Last day of classes tomorrow! I had sushi tonight, and it was wonderful, as it always is. I have a ton to do. I have to put the pedal to the metal, literally.
those movies you watch with your grandparents
to learn what it feels like to be feel old.
Dreams in moral virtues and hues of baby blues,
the way you read me, man, you read me just right
with text scrolling in yellow glints across my face.
I am perfectly made in the image of some god
with curled curls and pearly whites adorned with jeweled crowns
and long trimmed nails. The pictures never looked as glorious or
felt as smooth as that long practiced red lipped kiss on a white
stained wall.
But now we stand woven and teased out like the louse that has taken
shelter in that eyebrow follicle that twitches when you laugh.
Glamor, baby, you have it all, and I can only stare and drool
in the anticipation that time will have you moving towards me,
looking, staring, comparing...
You held my heart strained against the cracked porcelain
mane of the beast you sold your records to
Tip tapping the change in your pocket, so hard to beat
figuring I'd keep quiet the harder you'd squeeze.
You had me hello and now you've left me with no goodbye
like the sale of some used pantyhose drawn in at the seams,
too tight to breathe.
Dressed like the doll you had painted me to be, I
walk, I talk like some dead cadaver knowing the jokes
you had trained me to believe. I live for this.
I die for this.
Your voice hisses from the train as the whistles clang and bang
my hands against the grate leaving me behind
perfectly poised for the meeting of friends,
but you are no friend,
but a coming of news, and a poor soul with even slower aim,
And I take pity, pity, pity
Over every drawled out word thinking the chapter draws nigh
to an end, a place to begin, restart, befriend.
My heel is broken, cracked skin runs red, and the blues of my
thighs to the yellows on my ribs turn purple upon
my asking, like an invitation to play, or more so,
a demand to invent, to hide, to circumvent.
give me a deal, man, you read me so well.
It's easier when this stuff just crawls out of the woodwork, you know? I need to do this more often as it's like meditation and release. Feels good to put words to work.
Last day of classes tomorrow! I had sushi tonight, and it was wonderful, as it always is. I have a ton to do. I have to put the pedal to the metal, literally.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
History is linear
Osama is dead; the world is ending.
This act has more implications and complications than anyone can truly know.
History is a linear movement; it is the 'winners' progression. Whose story are we telling? Whose story are we forgetting.
So much has been lost, this can never be considered a win.
This act has more implications and complications than anyone can truly know.
History is a linear movement; it is the 'winners' progression. Whose story are we telling? Whose story are we forgetting.
So much has been lost, this can never be considered a win.
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Pieces of glass
My heart is like blown glass at this point, nothing but a thin layer of burnt sand holding myself together, keeping my anxieties and happiness apart. I am waiting for news about my aunt. She had her hysterectomy last night. I'm taking Ami, her daughter and my cousin/niece, to a movie at three.
I am waiting for the racist Republican agenda to be finally understood and revealed for what it is. Nevermind, take the Respublican out, add in American. Donald Trump is the perfect example of the 'American'. Vote for him and lose your soul, I swear to God. Even this was a publicity ploy, it's nothing short of disgusting.
I am waiting for Alabama, Mississippi and the other States to come together and breathe and bandage themselves up. There is blood in that soil now, so many have perished.
I am waiting for Indiana to wake up, as Wisconsin did. Cutting access to basic and necessary health care is like cutting off your nose to spite your face. Thousands, if not hundreds of thousands, will be suffering, if not dying.
I am waiting for the call to bear arms, and for the safety of knowing I can barricade myself in away from you. I am trying to be strong and to think I can do this. But, I feel like I can't do this. Not now. Please don't tell me/ tell me her name. Don't tell me/ tell me you did, you felt, you saw, you touched, you held. I am nothing to you, but Goddamn it, I am something to me. I don't regret what I did; I did it for me. I know you were doing the same. But I did me for my own sanity, yours was out of selfishness. So be it, this is war.
I slept like shit last night. My dreams, when I had them, were of swollen riverbanks and twisters erupting out of gray clouds, with colorless faces running past. So much is going on: my family, my work, school, my thesis, my fragility, my weak heart...
I'll find strength in stupid Twitter posts praising God and all his glory. Yes, Rev. Run, keep me whole.
I need to find my own confidence. All in all though, I'd like things to go back to how they were. Sometimes I dream of never meeting you. You woke something up in me I had hoped was dead.
No, no, no. You're right; I shouldn't care.
I am waiting for the racist Republican agenda to be finally understood and revealed for what it is. Nevermind, take the Respublican out, add in American. Donald Trump is the perfect example of the 'American'. Vote for him and lose your soul, I swear to God. Even this was a publicity ploy, it's nothing short of disgusting.
I am waiting for Alabama, Mississippi and the other States to come together and breathe and bandage themselves up. There is blood in that soil now, so many have perished.
I am waiting for Indiana to wake up, as Wisconsin did. Cutting access to basic and necessary health care is like cutting off your nose to spite your face. Thousands, if not hundreds of thousands, will be suffering, if not dying.
I am waiting for the call to bear arms, and for the safety of knowing I can barricade myself in away from you. I am trying to be strong and to think I can do this. But, I feel like I can't do this. Not now. Please don't tell me/ tell me her name. Don't tell me/ tell me you did, you felt, you saw, you touched, you held. I am nothing to you, but Goddamn it, I am something to me. I don't regret what I did; I did it for me. I know you were doing the same. But I did me for my own sanity, yours was out of selfishness. So be it, this is war.
I slept like shit last night. My dreams, when I had them, were of swollen riverbanks and twisters erupting out of gray clouds, with colorless faces running past. So much is going on: my family, my work, school, my thesis, my fragility, my weak heart...
I'll find strength in stupid Twitter posts praising God and all his glory. Yes, Rev. Run, keep me whole.
I need to find my own confidence. All in all though, I'd like things to go back to how they were. Sometimes I dream of never meeting you. You woke something up in me I had hoped was dead.
No, no, no. You're right; I shouldn't care.
Friday, April 29, 2011
Guess what I found out?
I mean, I guess I'm glad you found someone new. I guess. I'm glad we're not Facebook friends because I'd probably be a major creeper 23/7 (1 hour of sleep). Oh, and one more thing, how old is she? Last time I checked she was friends with 15 year olds...uhh...
(I'm fucking cuter though. Don't you ever forget that.)
:)
It's going to be a good day.
Oh and Janelle Monae was awesome. I got a shirt :)
(I'm fucking cuter though. Don't you ever forget that.)
:)
It's going to be a good day.
Oh and Janelle Monae was awesome. I got a shirt :)
Thursday, April 28, 2011
I finished my sociology shit this morning! WHEW. Did not take as long as I thought it would I'm done with two classes! Only two papers and I'm freee<3
Ps, there's a thunder storm wrecking havoc in the sky right now. I have always wanted to have sex during a thunder storm. Actually, I think I did when I went camping with Dave and Amber and co. and Dave split his finger open the next morning. Seriously, all night while the tent was poured on and almost floated away we fucked and fucked and fucked.
But seriously. I want to have sex during a thunder storm in a house by big windows. Not too much to ask for.
I guess I'll take a nap....
JANELLE MONAE TONIGHT<3 I almost touched her tour bus on my way to class. I'm such a creep.
Ps, there's a thunder storm wrecking havoc in the sky right now. I have always wanted to have sex during a thunder storm. Actually, I think I did when I went camping with Dave and Amber and co. and Dave split his finger open the next morning. Seriously, all night while the tent was poured on and almost floated away we fucked and fucked and fucked.
But seriously. I want to have sex during a thunder storm in a house by big windows. Not too much to ask for.
I guess I'll take a nap....
JANELLE MONAE TONIGHT<3 I almost touched her tour bus on my way to class. I'm such a creep.
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