Travis woke up on the floor again, amidst a clutter of beer bottles, cigarette butts and a paper plate with the remnants of a late night burrito smeared all over it. He pulled himself to his feet and looked at his clock. He was 14 minutes late for work. Travis went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. His eyes looked weary, with heavy bags under them. He hadn't shaved in 8 days and his boss would have his ass, he thought to himself, if he came in looking like that. Travis took a large swig of mouthwash and began swishing it around in his mouth, the taste of it burning his esophagus and his tender, smokeless tobacco ravaged gums. He peeled off his underwear that he'd been wearing all weekend and drew a hot shower. He stood there in silence and scalding hot water and tried to decide if his life had any purpose, or if it ever did in the first place. Travis finishes showering, shaves, and dresses for work.
Travis arrives for work about 45 minutes late. His boss gives him his final written warning and a stern lecturing, but Travis couldn't be bothered with such trivial matters. Travis works his shift in silence and avoids eye contact with his co-workers. He doesn't participate in 10 o'clock break. Travis eats a cold salami and cheese sandwich in his dark green 1988 Chevy Tahoe during his lunch break. He keeps a polaroid picture of his late mother on his dashboard. Travis wonders if she would be proud of him. Travis can't even remember what her voice sounds like anymore. Travis fights back silent tears and goes back to work.
Travis sneaks out of work early, and drives to the liquor store. He buys the largest, cheapest bottle of whiskey they have and a two packs of menthol cigarettes. The cashier is a girl, about 25 to 28 years old. Travis thinks she's pretty. She has dark red lipstick and long dark hair, past her shoulders. Travis considers all of the despicably perverse things he would do to her. Travis hasn't had sex in 14 months. His last girlfriend broke up with him because she thought he drank too much. She sometimes would find Travis cutting himself on his arms and torso, and she didn't like that either. Travis has blocked her name out of his head. He doesn't even know her name. But he remembers her smell, and the taste of her swollen vulva. Travis blinks, and comes out of his trance as the cashier gives him his change and he leaves the liquor store.
Travis arrives at his home and uncaps his bottle of whiskey as he sits in his truck in the driveway. He takes two long, hard pulls as he sits there in silence. Travis has never hated anyone or anything in the entire world as much as he hates himself.
Travis decides not to eat dinner. He smokes cigarettes and drinks his cheap whiskey as he listens to David Bowie songs from a burned CD his ex girlfriend left at his house after she broke up with him. Travis doesn't even fucking like David Bowie. Travis has most of his whiskey gone by 11 PM and he goes into his bathroom to relieve his bladder. Travis glances in the mirror and he hates what he sees. Travis takes a razor blade from his medicine cabinet and carves a detailed constellation into his forearm, but in a place where he is sure his shirt will cover it. Travis finally stops cutting himself and cauterizes his wound with a curling iron that his ex girlfriend left there. Travis winces in pain, but makes no sound. Finally Travis urinates into his stained, uncleanly toilet.
Travis is pissing blood again.
Travis walks into his bedroom and removes his stolen unregistered handgun from his dresser drawer. Travis loads a round into the chamber, and presses it against the back of his throat. He has done this every night for the last 4 weeks. Travis chokes on the cold barrel until he gags and tears start forming in the corners of his eyes. Travis pulls the gun back out of his mouth and falls to the floor and starts to weep. He knows he is a coward and he knows his life is without purpose.
Travis reads Friedrich Nietzsche quotes on his computer as he finishes his bottle of whiskey. Travis returns to the bathroom to throw up stomach bile. He makes sure to call his ex girlfriend's phone again that night and he hangs up again as she answers.
Travis wakes up on the floor again. He looks at his clock. Travis is 36 minutes late for work.
Monday, November 17, 2014
Monday, November 10, 2014
Tumors
The bitterness, no longer a passing endeavor
Knoweth he who walketh beneath the shadow of doubt
Uncouth and unbeknownst to them all
Feral, and beholden to none
Tattered beneath a passing light
Unfurling beneath the colorless smoke
The hissing serpent echoing displeasure in one's skull
A harem of women pleading a forgotten gospel
Running afoul of the long dead deity
Pain arriving like a dull knife
Carving itself into the tender organ
Tender and bleeding dust
Slain hearts and hollowed wounds
Pacified by time, rife with pollution
A gaping void in the soul
Lamenting agony
Uncoiled were the worms
Into the walking corpse
She walks beneath falling satellites
The stars and the moon turn ashen and cowl away
She passes the dying trees
Upturned graves
Corpses groaning and turning to dust
To know her, is to know death
Falling stars, falling men
Collapsing suns and buckling knees
She touches hearts
And tumors grow inside
Knoweth he who walketh beneath the shadow of doubt
Uncouth and unbeknownst to them all
Feral, and beholden to none
Tattered beneath a passing light
Unfurling beneath the colorless smoke
The hissing serpent echoing displeasure in one's skull
A harem of women pleading a forgotten gospel
Running afoul of the long dead deity
Pain arriving like a dull knife
Carving itself into the tender organ
Tender and bleeding dust
Slain hearts and hollowed wounds
Pacified by time, rife with pollution
A gaping void in the soul
Lamenting agony
Uncoiled were the worms
Into the walking corpse
She walks beneath falling satellites
The stars and the moon turn ashen and cowl away
She passes the dying trees
Upturned graves
Corpses groaning and turning to dust
To know her, is to know death
Falling stars, falling men
Collapsing suns and buckling knees
She touches hearts
And tumors grow inside
Saturday, November 8, 2014
Forgiveness For the Reaper
The blossoming corpse flower springs life from death
The looming specter shielded from the light
Shrouded in the mirth
Vomited contents
Billious and uncouth
An oozing black miasma
Poison, corrupted bowel
Forgiveness for the reaper that never came
There is no pain to be felt
The scythe ever rasping at the door
Pallid, sickened skin
Hemorrhaging any long held ideals
A looming failure at every threshold
Existing forever. Long held in the exquisite torture of existence
Life without time. Time without age.
Howling for death's loveless embrace
She utters a prayer for no one
A hollowed cadaver with a pulse
Corruption seeping through callous skin
Angry shadows dancing on it's body
What it was before, it can no longer be
The looming specter shielded from the light
Shrouded in the mirth
Vomited contents
Billious and uncouth
An oozing black miasma
Poison, corrupted bowel
Forgiveness for the reaper that never came
There is no pain to be felt
The scythe ever rasping at the door
Pallid, sickened skin
Hemorrhaging any long held ideals
A looming failure at every threshold
Existing forever. Long held in the exquisite torture of existence
Life without time. Time without age.
Howling for death's loveless embrace
She utters a prayer for no one
A hollowed cadaver with a pulse
Corruption seeping through callous skin
Angry shadows dancing on it's body
What it was before, it can no longer be
Sunday, October 12, 2014
The Boner
A lot of folks out there don't like to talk about boners and sexual situations, but I have never been comfortable falling into society's PC trappings or felt compelled to quell my opinions or thoughts on these subjects. So with all that being said, I want to tell a tale of a time when I got a boner in an awkward situation. Buckle up, assholes.
When I was in high school I worked for a canoe rental service. I started when I was 15, and I worked there through the summer into my senior year, when I was 17. It was my favorite job ever. Not only did I get to work outside, but it was pretty physical stuff, lifting canoes over your head and loading them onto trailers. You got to hang out by the water, free canoe rentals when they weren't fully booked, you get the idea. It was a cool job for a high school kid. A big part of the job was waiting down at the canoe landing point, and loading the canoes onto the trailers to bring back up to the launch point. We ran a shuttle service, and when the actual shuttle bus was making runs and wasn't down there, we would ferry people back up to the top in the large econo-size vans that pulled the trailers. As you can probably imagine, being on a river all day in the sun and downing booze can dull a lot of people's inhibitions, and my co-workers and I saw many strange or amazing sights in our time working down there. It wasn't uncommon to see tits and asses or any combination of either of those things. We all got used to it, and it became a perk of the job. Not that we actually sought out to do that sort of thing, because hey we had work to do and when 150+ canoes are coming in at a good clip, you have to be on your toes. But there were times when it was just about waiting for the canoes to come in, and when it became later in the season, business came to a lull and there was downtime to actually "stop and smell the roses" so to speak.
It was late summer, 2002. I was 16. I was a virgin, and hadn't had much success with females at that point, as I was always pretty shy and reserved in those days. I didn't start really letting loose or partying until I was about 18. If I recall, it was a weekday evening, probably 6:30 or 7pm. There were maybe 70,80 canoes out that day and we had them all loaded up save for the last two or three out on the water. When they finally came in, it was a group of about 6. They were all drinking heavily, and they were having a good time that day. Two of them were females. The rest were frat boy type dudes. We loaded them up, and I had arranged to drive them the twenty minute trek back to the starting point where their cars were parked. After they all loaded up and got their coolers and belongings in the van, we were off. About 2 minutes into the ride, one of the females sauntered up to the cab of the van and asked if she could sit on my lap for the drive up to the top. At first I relented, because for one, it would be illegal, and for two, I am working and this seemed to me to be slightly unprofessional. She wasn't taking no for an answer, and she plopped down on my lap. I asked her how old she was, and her name. She said she was 26. Ten years older than me at the time. I don't recall her name. She was attractive. Brunette girl, with deep blue eyes and a nice bronze tan. Me being the hopeless dork that I was, asked if any of the guys in back were her boyfriend. She said they weren't, and they were egging her on heavily. She proceeded to nibble on my ear and kiss me on my face and cheek, and a few times during the ride back, she jammed her tongue into my ear canal. Really giving me a good worm tongue-ing. I was flabbergasted. I didn't know how to react or what to do, so I just tried to concentrate on driving without wrecking the van. She continued this behavior all the way back to the canoe rental. Once we turned into the parking lot, she hopped off my lap and there it was. I was wearing gym shorts that day, and I was sporting the most rigid erection of my life. She was somehow amazingly surprised by this, and she immediately started laughing and pointing at it and proclaiming "oh my god you guys, he has a huge boner". I didn't know what to do other than hope it would subside as quickly as it had blossomed. They all laughed and she clambered into the backseat with her friends and they all exchanged high fives. We hopped out and she gave me a big hug and another kiss, and they were gone.
So yeah, I got a boner one time when I was at work. I just wonder what ever came of that classy woman and her persuasive worm tongue-ing techniques.
When I was in high school I worked for a canoe rental service. I started when I was 15, and I worked there through the summer into my senior year, when I was 17. It was my favorite job ever. Not only did I get to work outside, but it was pretty physical stuff, lifting canoes over your head and loading them onto trailers. You got to hang out by the water, free canoe rentals when they weren't fully booked, you get the idea. It was a cool job for a high school kid. A big part of the job was waiting down at the canoe landing point, and loading the canoes onto the trailers to bring back up to the launch point. We ran a shuttle service, and when the actual shuttle bus was making runs and wasn't down there, we would ferry people back up to the top in the large econo-size vans that pulled the trailers. As you can probably imagine, being on a river all day in the sun and downing booze can dull a lot of people's inhibitions, and my co-workers and I saw many strange or amazing sights in our time working down there. It wasn't uncommon to see tits and asses or any combination of either of those things. We all got used to it, and it became a perk of the job. Not that we actually sought out to do that sort of thing, because hey we had work to do and when 150+ canoes are coming in at a good clip, you have to be on your toes. But there were times when it was just about waiting for the canoes to come in, and when it became later in the season, business came to a lull and there was downtime to actually "stop and smell the roses" so to speak.
It was late summer, 2002. I was 16. I was a virgin, and hadn't had much success with females at that point, as I was always pretty shy and reserved in those days. I didn't start really letting loose or partying until I was about 18. If I recall, it was a weekday evening, probably 6:30 or 7pm. There were maybe 70,80 canoes out that day and we had them all loaded up save for the last two or three out on the water. When they finally came in, it was a group of about 6. They were all drinking heavily, and they were having a good time that day. Two of them were females. The rest were frat boy type dudes. We loaded them up, and I had arranged to drive them the twenty minute trek back to the starting point where their cars were parked. After they all loaded up and got their coolers and belongings in the van, we were off. About 2 minutes into the ride, one of the females sauntered up to the cab of the van and asked if she could sit on my lap for the drive up to the top. At first I relented, because for one, it would be illegal, and for two, I am working and this seemed to me to be slightly unprofessional. She wasn't taking no for an answer, and she plopped down on my lap. I asked her how old she was, and her name. She said she was 26. Ten years older than me at the time. I don't recall her name. She was attractive. Brunette girl, with deep blue eyes and a nice bronze tan. Me being the hopeless dork that I was, asked if any of the guys in back were her boyfriend. She said they weren't, and they were egging her on heavily. She proceeded to nibble on my ear and kiss me on my face and cheek, and a few times during the ride back, she jammed her tongue into my ear canal. Really giving me a good worm tongue-ing. I was flabbergasted. I didn't know how to react or what to do, so I just tried to concentrate on driving without wrecking the van. She continued this behavior all the way back to the canoe rental. Once we turned into the parking lot, she hopped off my lap and there it was. I was wearing gym shorts that day, and I was sporting the most rigid erection of my life. She was somehow amazingly surprised by this, and she immediately started laughing and pointing at it and proclaiming "oh my god you guys, he has a huge boner". I didn't know what to do other than hope it would subside as quickly as it had blossomed. They all laughed and she clambered into the backseat with her friends and they all exchanged high fives. We hopped out and she gave me a big hug and another kiss, and they were gone.
So yeah, I got a boner one time when I was at work. I just wonder what ever came of that classy woman and her persuasive worm tongue-ing techniques.
Tuesday, September 2, 2014
Sex, Violence, and Angel Dust
A new whore breezes in and she's dripping with venom from all the right places.
Bursting at the seams. Sex and violence and angel dust. Seeping through her skin.
Devouring needles in eager flesh. Wine and dirt and polygamous human pyramids
Fucking like insects. Breeding for nothing. For no one. Blood, semen, fluids intersperse.
She spoke of a god and she kept the rosary tight. Hail Mary. Hail Mary.
Purging faith and hemorrhaging hope. She carves her hatred into the walls.
These walls bleeding her vehemence. Petrified scorn and weary neighbors cowl their eyes.
Phallic diversion and poisoned ejaculate. Hopeless men all spilling their seed.
Naivete will do them in. Like Saturn devouring his son.
Like Grendel in ancient folklore
Lipstick and blood
Lipstick or blood?
She snaps them in half and she bites off the head. Like The Serpent devouring itself.
Nothing ever earned
Supplanted by hate and stoking the ego's fire
Endless days.
Bursting at the seams. Sex and violence and angel dust. Seeping through her skin.
Devouring needles in eager flesh. Wine and dirt and polygamous human pyramids
Fucking like insects. Breeding for nothing. For no one. Blood, semen, fluids intersperse.
She spoke of a god and she kept the rosary tight. Hail Mary. Hail Mary.
Purging faith and hemorrhaging hope. She carves her hatred into the walls.
These walls bleeding her vehemence. Petrified scorn and weary neighbors cowl their eyes.
Phallic diversion and poisoned ejaculate. Hopeless men all spilling their seed.
Naivete will do them in. Like Saturn devouring his son.
Like Grendel in ancient folklore
Lipstick and blood
Lipstick or blood?
She snaps them in half and she bites off the head. Like The Serpent devouring itself.
Nothing ever earned
Supplanted by hate and stoking the ego's fire
Endless days.
Sunday, August 17, 2014
A Fetid Corpse
Whiskey and heartache. Road trips and dive bars. Small towns filled with smaller people with minds smaller yet. A home like a prison with invisible bars. Clawing at the walls and smashing the mirrors. Curtains drawn tight and the mind aches with discontent. Blood in the vomit and kidneys throbbing. Just like your father and his father before. Beyond panic and strife and resigned to despair. Wallowing in faltering dreams. Defeat. Burden and squalor and a mental disease.
Skin like a ghost and sunken eyes failing. Deaf to the sounds of hope. A fetid corpse in waiting. Never came the day when the nightmare would end. She's never coming through the door. Like a corpse in his grave in the prime of his life. Second opinions from people who pretend to care. Rotted out from the inside and poisoned forever. Contents within him cannot stay inside. He's finding it hard to breathe. A bargained truth for a coward. A slithering snake in his dream. Rats and carrion. Ethereal decay. Sloping and spiraling downward. A harbinger of romanticized fate. A noose and a chair and cyanide capsules. Barrels in mouth's and trigger happy fingers. No longer trying to hide. A loosened grasp on all hope. A smile drawn upon a drowning man. A broken crown and a malignant daydream. Forgot what it meant to smile. Forgot what it was to laugh. Bleeding comes easy and still he doesn't mind, for all that he has is time. Time would help him heal. Time would soon help him laugh. With time all the wrongs became right. In time his smile would return. In time his eyes would be able to see. His watch hasn't worked in years.
Just like his father and his father before.
Skin like a ghost and sunken eyes failing. Deaf to the sounds of hope. A fetid corpse in waiting. Never came the day when the nightmare would end. She's never coming through the door. Like a corpse in his grave in the prime of his life. Second opinions from people who pretend to care. Rotted out from the inside and poisoned forever. Contents within him cannot stay inside. He's finding it hard to breathe. A bargained truth for a coward. A slithering snake in his dream. Rats and carrion. Ethereal decay. Sloping and spiraling downward. A harbinger of romanticized fate. A noose and a chair and cyanide capsules. Barrels in mouth's and trigger happy fingers. No longer trying to hide. A loosened grasp on all hope. A smile drawn upon a drowning man. A broken crown and a malignant daydream. Forgot what it meant to smile. Forgot what it was to laugh. Bleeding comes easy and still he doesn't mind, for all that he has is time. Time would help him heal. Time would soon help him laugh. With time all the wrongs became right. In time his smile would return. In time his eyes would be able to see. His watch hasn't worked in years.
Just like his father and his father before.
Wednesday, August 13, 2014
A Choir of Locusts
Overflowing ash trays and bottles broken
A septic dream for which there is no alarm clock
The days keep on dragging.
Work boots withered
Browbeaten under the weight
Of which 'it' remains unidentified
The dull throb of 'it's' pulse
Senses numbed and the shrill sounds of solitude
Bask in the throes of regret
Dwelling on every failure
Insignificance nigh
Under the flag
Under a white flag
Debts paid in blood and a sub prime mortgage
The bottom falling out
The truth of it all
Evasive and shrewd
Blinded by fear and a skull made of wax
Warping from the heat
Too close to the flame and the statues are burning
Too precious was the knowledge
The seething rage overwhelms
Lashing out at the walls
Punching holes in the sky
Framed in 'it's' hate
Fucking love's lifeless corpse
Necrophilia for a dead and hopeless mind
A locust choir and it's shrill cacophony
A symphony of bones and hollowed skin
Dancing with the cadavers
The sunrise came too soon
A septic dream for which there is no alarm clock
The days keep on dragging.
Work boots withered
Browbeaten under the weight
Of which 'it' remains unidentified
The dull throb of 'it's' pulse
Senses numbed and the shrill sounds of solitude
Bask in the throes of regret
Dwelling on every failure
Insignificance nigh
Under the flag
Under a white flag
Debts paid in blood and a sub prime mortgage
The bottom falling out
The truth of it all
Evasive and shrewd
Blinded by fear and a skull made of wax
Warping from the heat
Too close to the flame and the statues are burning
Too precious was the knowledge
The seething rage overwhelms
Lashing out at the walls
Punching holes in the sky
Framed in 'it's' hate
Fucking love's lifeless corpse
Necrophilia for a dead and hopeless mind
A locust choir and it's shrill cacophony
A symphony of bones and hollowed skin
Dancing with the cadavers
The sunrise came too soon
Wednesday, July 23, 2014
A Pale Skull
A heart in a cage made stale
Like the wine of the harlot
Venom and blood
Venom in blood
Heels high to heaven
Stomping and kicking and dancing mad
Talons and the gnashing teeth
Love was lost in her eyes
Framed in her face and she's licking her lips
Mutations growing in her womb
Semen stains on her dress
The semen stains
A child in a dumpster cries
A dog in the hallway is barking
A flaccid old man naked and wandering
He's muttering lies
So long to wretched mediocrity
So long to lonely starless nights
So long to the abhorrence of being
Cancerous and wry
Rife with the tumors and soft to the touch
Tethered to the stake and left there to die
Picked clean by the insects
A pale skull lit the night.
Eye sockets empty and the jaw set to grin
Just a skull in the desert and a bottle of gin
Like the wine of the harlot
Venom and blood
Venom in blood
Heels high to heaven
Stomping and kicking and dancing mad
Talons and the gnashing teeth
Love was lost in her eyes
Framed in her face and she's licking her lips
Mutations growing in her womb
Semen stains on her dress
The semen stains
A child in a dumpster cries
A dog in the hallway is barking
A flaccid old man naked and wandering
He's muttering lies
So long to wretched mediocrity
So long to lonely starless nights
So long to the abhorrence of being
Cancerous and wry
Rife with the tumors and soft to the touch
Tethered to the stake and left there to die
Picked clean by the insects
A pale skull lit the night.
Eye sockets empty and the jaw set to grin
Just a skull in the desert and a bottle of gin
Tuesday, July 1, 2014
Nerve Damage
Damaged nerves and a broken harp. Frayed strings and a crippled bird
Suckling at the teat of mediocrity. A furrowed brow. Suspension in the sunlight
Kick down the doors. Smash every window. Molotov solutions. Plunder it all.
Fasten yourself to the seat of seclusion and buckle the belt. Safety in silence.
Persuasion. Proclivity. Porous idealism and a loose moral code.
Her eyes are smoking, and her heart it laughs.
Her ears were bleeding when the ground started shaking
She looks for violence and she found only me.
She wears a golden headdress for me.
A tear rounds her eye and she walks on the ceiling.
Suckling at the teat of mediocrity. A furrowed brow. Suspension in the sunlight
Kick down the doors. Smash every window. Molotov solutions. Plunder it all.
Fasten yourself to the seat of seclusion and buckle the belt. Safety in silence.
Persuasion. Proclivity. Porous idealism and a loose moral code.
Her eyes are smoking, and her heart it laughs.
Her ears were bleeding when the ground started shaking
She looks for violence and she found only me.
She wears a golden headdress for me.
A tear rounds her eye and she walks on the ceiling.
Monday, June 16, 2014
Thanks, Sorry, Goodbye
I went on a date last weekend, against my better judgement. My latest foray back into the world of dating comes at the behest of a newfound sense of confidence and frame of mind I have discovered within myself, so I thought this time things might turn out differently. Some people never get tired of being wrong all the time, myself included. So I fired up my old online dating profile and got back behind the wheel. I forgot to fasten my seatbelt or have my brake pads checked, because I was taken for a ride. Quite literally and figuratively.
For the sake of anonymity, let's call her Susan. Susan is 34, and works in the healthcare industry. She has two children. We spoke for a few days online and then exchanged numbers. She called me late one evening and we spoke for about an hour, and established somewhat of a good rapport. Had some good banter, laughter. You get the idea. We then made plans to get together the next night, which would be Friday. We agreed to meet up at Panera bread, because 'Susan' is on some sort of diet and cannot drink alcohol. After we wrap up our phone conversation, Susan sends me an unsolicited photo of herself. Nothing X rated, but perhaps a bit racy. I smiled and made a polite comment in return and went to bed.
The next evening, I am preparing for my date with Susan. I dress up nice, within reason. I don't want to appear to be too eager to please, yet I don't want to look like a slob. I arrive at Panera at about ten minutes to 6, as was our agreed time. I have a seat and wait patiently. Right at about 6 PM, through the door comes my date. Oh my god. She looked good in her photos, but I was not prepared for how actually attractive this woman was in person. She was a stone cold stunner. She was 5'7", with an athletic build. Shoulder length brown hair, and steely, piercing greenish blue eyes. She had high cheekbones and absolutely perfect teeth. A nice evenly tanned complexion. She had perky breasts(she would later reveal to me that they were implants. I then discovered this for myself when her top came off) and a nice, evenly rounded backside. For all practical purposes, Susan was clearly out of my league. That isn't to say that I don't think I am an attractive or worthy specimen myself, but I am average to decent looking at best, and Susan was a knockout. So right away I realize I am going to be in over my head here. Then I took a second to compose myself, realize I have nothing to fucking lose anyway, and I cranked up my game to ten. I approached her and went in for a hug, and we ordered our food and went outside to sit on the patio and eat.
It was a gorgeous mid June evening, and the sun hung low in the sky and there was no wind. Susan and I engaged in lighthearted banter, typical 'get to know each other' type of stuff. I start making a joke here and there, and she is laughing and smiling. I avoid talking too much about myself, as I want to keep an air of mystery. Women seem to like that sort of thing. I also avoid complimenting her on her physical appearance. A woman as gorgeous as Susan is likely used to hearing these things all the time. So we talk about worldly topics and keep things sort of general and for the most part, we keep it pretty basic. She seems affable and sweet, and she seems to be enjoying herself. After we finish our dinner, I gingerly ask her what she would like to do next, as the night is young and we seem to be enjoying one another's company. She suggested we take a walk in the local park. I agree. We decide to take my vehicle. So we head to the park that isn't more than a 3 minute drive away, and we take a walk through the woods. Past stoners and hippies playing frisbee golf, past bicyclists, and over a bridge that sat upon a clear and fast moving stream. We are having a pleasant time, and Susan and I begin to learn more about one another. It is during this walk that it becomes clear to me that Susan has more than just a passing fancy in me. She begins exhibiting all of the telltale signs that she has genuine interest. She begins making remarks about my height and stature, and throughout our evening trek she begins to playfully touch me and make subtle physical contact with me. Things are going well, and I know it. Maybe I will see this girl again, I think to myself. When we wind up back at my car, she looked at me and she cooed in her soft and sexy voice that she "isn't ready to say goodnight yet". I then ask her, "Well, what would you like to do?" I then start wracking my brain for activities for her and I to engage in that would not include drinking, because like I mentioned earlier, she does not drink. Then before I could suggest that we "go see a movie", because that seemed like the right thing to say, Susan asked me if I would like to come back to her condo with her. She flashed me a coy smile and I said "Of course."
I take Susan back to her car at Panera and follow her to her condo, that sits in a suburban section on the NE side of town. It's a nice place. We get inside and Susan asks me if I would like to watch a movie. She asks me to make the selection. I choose 'Bridesmaids', because I assume she likes it, and fuck it I like that movie too. I then go use the restroom to empty my bladder. When I get back out, Susan has made a nice little spot on the couch for us, with me right next to her and she has an ice cold glass of lemonade ready for both of us. Clearly understanding what is going on here, I sit down next to Susan and within a half hour of the movie rolling I make my move. Things start to get pretty heavy and for a brief moment I consider slowing things down, because after all, I like this girl. She seems sweet, very intelligent and super endearing. It also helps that she is a stone cold fox. Perhaps we shouldn't move so fast? Perhaps we slow down, and perhaps I should verbally communicate my feelings about this. Perhaps I am not a beta male bitch boy pussy and I know when a girl clearly has a want and a need to be satisfied. So we proceed with our activities. It is at this point that Susan asks me, practically panting, if I would like to move our activities to her bedroom. Not being a fucking moron, I agree and off we went.
The things that happened behind those bedroom doors would make Jenna Jameson turn red. This woman was 5'7" 120 lbs of sexual Tyrannosaurus Rex. No orifice went un-pulverized, and nothing was off limits. It was as if I was some sort of carnal nourishment to her, so ravenous was her sexual appetite. I was blown away, literally. This deviant behavior occurred all night, and well into the morning. I awoke about 7:30 AM, and we had the traditional post-coitus snuggle session, everything seemed natural. Now remember, since we weren't drinking the night before, everything was done sober, so there was no 'next morning awkwardness'. Susan went and made coffee, we talked for about half an hour, and I was on my way. Things to do that day, as well did she. We tentatively made plans to get together Sunday evening. I suggested maybe we could catch a movie. She said "Yeah, we could probably do that, give me a call or text me!". I brought Susan in for a kiss and was on my way. I sauntered down her sidewalk and I felt like I was 36 fucking feet tall. Susan made me feel like a man that night. I left feeling as fulfilled and as good as I have in some time. After all, as well as things went that night, I surely would see this amazing woman again right?
Fast forward to Sunday. I send Susan a text at about 1 PM. The text read exactly this:
"Hey Susan, hope you had a great weekend :) Would you like to see a movie with me tonight"?
I waited all afternoon for a response, and heard nothing. I assumed perhaps she was busy, as it was Father's Day. Maybe she had plans with her family, maybe she had her kids that day, who knows. As the day turned to evening, a slow creeping sadness set in. I know that today's 21st century woman isn't away from her phone that long, and something has clearly gone awry. Finally at 7:30 PM she gets back to me. Her text reads:
"It isn't going to work out, thanks sorry goodbye"
I sat there and looked at my phone and blinked in disbelief for several seconds. What? I could not believe what I was reading. Then I paced around my house and started to laugh to myself out loud. Then I was angry, for about ten minutes. What had occurred in less than 48 hours, that I was no longer interesting to this woman? In a time span of two hours, I went from meeting her for the first time, and then I was inside her. Bam. Jut like that. Clearly, I should have maybe seen warning signs. She seemed sweet and affable, and like she had genuine interest in me. Maybe she was just extremely horny, and perhaps she hadn't had a dick in awhile and she deemed me worthy of a good old fashioned dust off. Maybe she does this kind of thing all the time. Maybe, sometime in that 48 hour span, she had found a new man online and found him to be more interesting or enticing than I was to her. To me, this is the most likely scenario. Therein lies the problem with dating in the 21st century. Every single attractive single woman out there, EVERY SINGLE ONE, constantly has an endless stream of men hounding her day and night. If she appears single and looking, it is even worse. Evey single woman has a dating profile. They're all on Tinder. Their Facebook profile is constantly getting blown up by thirsty beta dudes itching at a chance to get into their pants. Watch for it. Next time that single fox on your friends list uploads her ubiquitous 'selfie', watch for the likes and the comments to roll in. Thirsty dudes. With so much male attention rolling in, most of these women will crumble and give into at least one of their pathetic advances. And with women being as seemingly fickle and aloof as they are nowadays, coupled with this sort of constant stream of attention and hounding, and it is easy to see how a woman would flake, just like Susan did. The problem isn't me. The problem isn't Susan. The problem is dating nowadays and society at large.
So in closing, my single bachelor friends, it is important to realize that I harbor no ill feelings toward this woman. She apparently got all she wanted or needed from me, and moved on. Of course, I enjoyed it myself as well. I would be lying if I said I wasn't a little bit disappointed that I won't get to see her again. She seemed pretty alright. But you just have to go on to the next one. Take this info and heed it wisely. Realize that this is going to happen to you. There is no point in taking things personally. 21st century dating has evolved to a point of no return, and a lot of women no longer want to engage in traditional courtship rituals. Short, oftentimes crude text message banter is typically all it will take to get their attention in today's dating climate. This isn't meant to suggest all women are like this. But it seems so commonplace nowadays and the precedent has been set. Don't give in fellas. Don't compromise your values and when women like 'Susan' flake on you, next them and never look back. I didn't even respond to Susan's terse 'fuck-off' text, and I felt no reason to. At the very least, she responded. I give her props for that.
Realize that you have to stand out among all of the thirsty beta clinger-ons, and stop giving these women the attention that they have become so accustomed to.
In a society run amok with cowards and sheep, adapt the mindset of a lion. You might not make a lot of friends that way, but you will feel better about yourself.
For the sake of anonymity, let's call her Susan. Susan is 34, and works in the healthcare industry. She has two children. We spoke for a few days online and then exchanged numbers. She called me late one evening and we spoke for about an hour, and established somewhat of a good rapport. Had some good banter, laughter. You get the idea. We then made plans to get together the next night, which would be Friday. We agreed to meet up at Panera bread, because 'Susan' is on some sort of diet and cannot drink alcohol. After we wrap up our phone conversation, Susan sends me an unsolicited photo of herself. Nothing X rated, but perhaps a bit racy. I smiled and made a polite comment in return and went to bed.
The next evening, I am preparing for my date with Susan. I dress up nice, within reason. I don't want to appear to be too eager to please, yet I don't want to look like a slob. I arrive at Panera at about ten minutes to 6, as was our agreed time. I have a seat and wait patiently. Right at about 6 PM, through the door comes my date. Oh my god. She looked good in her photos, but I was not prepared for how actually attractive this woman was in person. She was a stone cold stunner. She was 5'7", with an athletic build. Shoulder length brown hair, and steely, piercing greenish blue eyes. She had high cheekbones and absolutely perfect teeth. A nice evenly tanned complexion. She had perky breasts(she would later reveal to me that they were implants. I then discovered this for myself when her top came off) and a nice, evenly rounded backside. For all practical purposes, Susan was clearly out of my league. That isn't to say that I don't think I am an attractive or worthy specimen myself, but I am average to decent looking at best, and Susan was a knockout. So right away I realize I am going to be in over my head here. Then I took a second to compose myself, realize I have nothing to fucking lose anyway, and I cranked up my game to ten. I approached her and went in for a hug, and we ordered our food and went outside to sit on the patio and eat.
It was a gorgeous mid June evening, and the sun hung low in the sky and there was no wind. Susan and I engaged in lighthearted banter, typical 'get to know each other' type of stuff. I start making a joke here and there, and she is laughing and smiling. I avoid talking too much about myself, as I want to keep an air of mystery. Women seem to like that sort of thing. I also avoid complimenting her on her physical appearance. A woman as gorgeous as Susan is likely used to hearing these things all the time. So we talk about worldly topics and keep things sort of general and for the most part, we keep it pretty basic. She seems affable and sweet, and she seems to be enjoying herself. After we finish our dinner, I gingerly ask her what she would like to do next, as the night is young and we seem to be enjoying one another's company. She suggested we take a walk in the local park. I agree. We decide to take my vehicle. So we head to the park that isn't more than a 3 minute drive away, and we take a walk through the woods. Past stoners and hippies playing frisbee golf, past bicyclists, and over a bridge that sat upon a clear and fast moving stream. We are having a pleasant time, and Susan and I begin to learn more about one another. It is during this walk that it becomes clear to me that Susan has more than just a passing fancy in me. She begins exhibiting all of the telltale signs that she has genuine interest. She begins making remarks about my height and stature, and throughout our evening trek she begins to playfully touch me and make subtle physical contact with me. Things are going well, and I know it. Maybe I will see this girl again, I think to myself. When we wind up back at my car, she looked at me and she cooed in her soft and sexy voice that she "isn't ready to say goodnight yet". I then ask her, "Well, what would you like to do?" I then start wracking my brain for activities for her and I to engage in that would not include drinking, because like I mentioned earlier, she does not drink. Then before I could suggest that we "go see a movie", because that seemed like the right thing to say, Susan asked me if I would like to come back to her condo with her. She flashed me a coy smile and I said "Of course."
I take Susan back to her car at Panera and follow her to her condo, that sits in a suburban section on the NE side of town. It's a nice place. We get inside and Susan asks me if I would like to watch a movie. She asks me to make the selection. I choose 'Bridesmaids', because I assume she likes it, and fuck it I like that movie too. I then go use the restroom to empty my bladder. When I get back out, Susan has made a nice little spot on the couch for us, with me right next to her and she has an ice cold glass of lemonade ready for both of us. Clearly understanding what is going on here, I sit down next to Susan and within a half hour of the movie rolling I make my move. Things start to get pretty heavy and for a brief moment I consider slowing things down, because after all, I like this girl. She seems sweet, very intelligent and super endearing. It also helps that she is a stone cold fox. Perhaps we shouldn't move so fast? Perhaps we slow down, and perhaps I should verbally communicate my feelings about this. Perhaps I am not a beta male bitch boy pussy and I know when a girl clearly has a want and a need to be satisfied. So we proceed with our activities. It is at this point that Susan asks me, practically panting, if I would like to move our activities to her bedroom. Not being a fucking moron, I agree and off we went.
The things that happened behind those bedroom doors would make Jenna Jameson turn red. This woman was 5'7" 120 lbs of sexual Tyrannosaurus Rex. No orifice went un-pulverized, and nothing was off limits. It was as if I was some sort of carnal nourishment to her, so ravenous was her sexual appetite. I was blown away, literally. This deviant behavior occurred all night, and well into the morning. I awoke about 7:30 AM, and we had the traditional post-coitus snuggle session, everything seemed natural. Now remember, since we weren't drinking the night before, everything was done sober, so there was no 'next morning awkwardness'. Susan went and made coffee, we talked for about half an hour, and I was on my way. Things to do that day, as well did she. We tentatively made plans to get together Sunday evening. I suggested maybe we could catch a movie. She said "Yeah, we could probably do that, give me a call or text me!". I brought Susan in for a kiss and was on my way. I sauntered down her sidewalk and I felt like I was 36 fucking feet tall. Susan made me feel like a man that night. I left feeling as fulfilled and as good as I have in some time. After all, as well as things went that night, I surely would see this amazing woman again right?
Fast forward to Sunday. I send Susan a text at about 1 PM. The text read exactly this:
"Hey Susan, hope you had a great weekend :) Would you like to see a movie with me tonight"?
I waited all afternoon for a response, and heard nothing. I assumed perhaps she was busy, as it was Father's Day. Maybe she had plans with her family, maybe she had her kids that day, who knows. As the day turned to evening, a slow creeping sadness set in. I know that today's 21st century woman isn't away from her phone that long, and something has clearly gone awry. Finally at 7:30 PM she gets back to me. Her text reads:
"It isn't going to work out, thanks sorry goodbye"
I sat there and looked at my phone and blinked in disbelief for several seconds. What? I could not believe what I was reading. Then I paced around my house and started to laugh to myself out loud. Then I was angry, for about ten minutes. What had occurred in less than 48 hours, that I was no longer interesting to this woman? In a time span of two hours, I went from meeting her for the first time, and then I was inside her. Bam. Jut like that. Clearly, I should have maybe seen warning signs. She seemed sweet and affable, and like she had genuine interest in me. Maybe she was just extremely horny, and perhaps she hadn't had a dick in awhile and she deemed me worthy of a good old fashioned dust off. Maybe she does this kind of thing all the time. Maybe, sometime in that 48 hour span, she had found a new man online and found him to be more interesting or enticing than I was to her. To me, this is the most likely scenario. Therein lies the problem with dating in the 21st century. Every single attractive single woman out there, EVERY SINGLE ONE, constantly has an endless stream of men hounding her day and night. If she appears single and looking, it is even worse. Evey single woman has a dating profile. They're all on Tinder. Their Facebook profile is constantly getting blown up by thirsty beta dudes itching at a chance to get into their pants. Watch for it. Next time that single fox on your friends list uploads her ubiquitous 'selfie', watch for the likes and the comments to roll in. Thirsty dudes. With so much male attention rolling in, most of these women will crumble and give into at least one of their pathetic advances. And with women being as seemingly fickle and aloof as they are nowadays, coupled with this sort of constant stream of attention and hounding, and it is easy to see how a woman would flake, just like Susan did. The problem isn't me. The problem isn't Susan. The problem is dating nowadays and society at large.
So in closing, my single bachelor friends, it is important to realize that I harbor no ill feelings toward this woman. She apparently got all she wanted or needed from me, and moved on. Of course, I enjoyed it myself as well. I would be lying if I said I wasn't a little bit disappointed that I won't get to see her again. She seemed pretty alright. But you just have to go on to the next one. Take this info and heed it wisely. Realize that this is going to happen to you. There is no point in taking things personally. 21st century dating has evolved to a point of no return, and a lot of women no longer want to engage in traditional courtship rituals. Short, oftentimes crude text message banter is typically all it will take to get their attention in today's dating climate. This isn't meant to suggest all women are like this. But it seems so commonplace nowadays and the precedent has been set. Don't give in fellas. Don't compromise your values and when women like 'Susan' flake on you, next them and never look back. I didn't even respond to Susan's terse 'fuck-off' text, and I felt no reason to. At the very least, she responded. I give her props for that.
Realize that you have to stand out among all of the thirsty beta clinger-ons, and stop giving these women the attention that they have become so accustomed to.
In a society run amok with cowards and sheep, adapt the mindset of a lion. You might not make a lot of friends that way, but you will feel better about yourself.
Thursday, June 5, 2014
The Lier in Wait
“But the worst enemy you can meet will always be yourself; you lie in
wait for yourself in caverns and forests. Lonely one, you are going the
way to yourself! And your way goes past yourself, and past your seven
devils! You will be a heretic to yourself and witch and soothsayer and
fool and doubter and unholy one and villain. You must be ready to burn
yourself in your own flame: how could you become new, if you had not
first become ashes?” -Friedrich Nietzsche
As He Creates, So He Destroys
"When faced with the prospect of rebuilding himself after living so long
under false pretenses, after having all he believed he was building turn
up to be a lifetime of wasted effort, he’s faced with two real options.
Recreate himself or destroy himself."
Wednesday, May 28, 2014
The Grizzly
I went to visit my grandmother tonight and took her out for dinner. When I went to leave, she handed me an envelope full of illustrations that I drew as a very young child. Also in the envelope were newspaper clippings of various childhood achievements, some photos, and a poem. A poem written by my late father. I never knew my dad was into poetry, or writing. He was always a very 'rough and tumble' kind of guy, and while he was extremely intelligent, it comes as a great surprise to find that he actually used to write some stuff. The following is a poem, written by Jeff Tjaden, sometime in his teenage years. There was no date on it, and it was just a piece of notebook paper with the title and his name in the upper right hand corner. I can only assume it was a school assignment that my grandmother held on to. I was actually quite surprised with how neat and well written his cursive handwriting was. But yeah, here is the poem:
The Grizzly
Looking, but never seeing
It is late day, or early evening
Knowing, but yet still wondering
Hoping, but not really wanting
It's getting later, but still I'm waiting
At last it appears, when the moon is dawning
Beautiful, yet stark and terrifying
The Great Beast is lurking
Closer and closer it draws, and yet still perching
The entire forest is awakening
At last the chase is starting
It was a quiet fight, done with no meaning
The Grizzly
Looking, but never seeing
It is late day, or early evening
Knowing, but yet still wondering
Hoping, but not really wanting
It's getting later, but still I'm waiting
At last it appears, when the moon is dawning
Beautiful, yet stark and terrifying
The Great Beast is lurking
Closer and closer it draws, and yet still perching
The entire forest is awakening
At last the chase is starting
It was a quiet fight, done with no meaning
Tuesday, May 13, 2014
Disclaimer
I've been publishing quite a bit on here as of late, and I felt the need to make a general statement regarding the content of these primitive scrawlings. Not that I feel that I owe any of you an explanation, but I don't want anyone to think I belong in a straight jacket. Most of the things published here were written in the late fall of 2013, and extended into the winter. I was experiencing a very real mental breakdown of sorts. It was visceral, and felt as real as anything I have ever experienced in my life. Late nights of substance abuse and self loathing. I never hated myself more than I did in the months of September through December of last year. It was all I could do to retain some fleeting semblance of sanity, to document these thoughts on this glowing screen. It was dark, lonely and terrifying. If this sounds like some sort of bastardized 'artistic hyperbole', so be it. I never considered this to be art. I'll never be like any of you, nor do I want to. I am my own man and I have carved out my own path. For better or worse. These aren't here for anyone but me. If others can see it and make a connection, even better. This isn't some piece of time, or piece of fucking 'art' to be analyzed and digested. This was a very real part of my life that I documented, and I am glad to have done so. I had to crack open a dark, horrifying section of my skull to find this stuff, and I am happy that it is over and I never want to go back there again. I don't know that I will be doing much here as far as new 'material', and most of this stuff is unedited and left as it's original piece as it was. Created in the moment and puked forth. Purged from my soul and splattered upon the screen. This isn't for you to enjoy. This is for me to look back on and be glad that it is over. I am in a much better place mentally. Thanks for reading.
Tuesday, May 6, 2014
Friday, May 2, 2014
An Old Cancerous Man
Spitting in the face of reason, and lying here awake. To spite reality and reroute it's course.
Groping insane. The curtains close. She opens the vein. The blood is visible. It never ends. My eyes are drying out
Ground into the earth. Laying the framework for hate. Hammers, nails and a biting grit
Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate.
Keeping it whole, keeping it here. Burrowing further and smelling the sand. Salting the earth and mow off the grass
There is no one. Who will stay here with me. I am the end. Love is impossible. I till this earth. I make things implausible. I kept it near. I stayed there true to you
The tumor grows. I feel it spreading now. Won't kill me yet. This worm inside of me. I welcome death. My life is painful now. I won't regret. These things I'll never be.
I'll never be
I cannot see
I could not care
To be like other men
I live in strife
The ocean swallows me
I'll kill it fast
This gift given to me
I never want. To be like one of you. Ill fated breath. Deprive those close to you
I'll starve myself. I know what came before. I know you're smiting me.
So burn me down.
So phase me out
You fuck my wound
Opened the vein
Keep rubbing salt.
I feel no pain.
When you lie next to me
Lie next to me
Lie here with me
Please stay with me
Just stay with me
Just stay
Just stay
Just stay
Just stay with me
Groping insane. The curtains close. She opens the vein. The blood is visible. It never ends. My eyes are drying out
Ground into the earth. Laying the framework for hate. Hammers, nails and a biting grit
Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate.
Keeping it whole, keeping it here. Burrowing further and smelling the sand. Salting the earth and mow off the grass
There is no one. Who will stay here with me. I am the end. Love is impossible. I till this earth. I make things implausible. I kept it near. I stayed there true to you
The tumor grows. I feel it spreading now. Won't kill me yet. This worm inside of me. I welcome death. My life is painful now. I won't regret. These things I'll never be.
I'll never be
I cannot see
I could not care
To be like other men
I live in strife
The ocean swallows me
I'll kill it fast
This gift given to me
I never want. To be like one of you. Ill fated breath. Deprive those close to you
I'll starve myself. I know what came before. I know you're smiting me.
So burn me down.
So phase me out
You fuck my wound
Opened the vein
Keep rubbing salt.
I feel no pain.
When you lie next to me
Lie next to me
Lie here with me
Please stay with me
Just stay with me
Just stay
Just stay
Just stay
Just stay with me
Monday, April 28, 2014
My Father's Mistress
She stands in the doorway.
Smoking. Smiling. Her hair smells like piss and her eyes are sullen.
Wrinkled skin and a hideous gait.
She is my father's mistress
I know her too well.
She arrives at once.
Hidden by darkness and smelling like wine.
She doesn't talk, and she only emotes through the throes of a spastic orgasm.
Her breath smells like ash. Her breath smells like ash. Her breath smells like ash.
Yellowed teeth. Broken fang. Coarse disposition. She screams something insane.
I never wanted to know her. She never bothered to meet me
She's killing his mind. She's feeding his lust. A seed of hatred buried in her womb. A load dislodged in the back of her throat
She is my father's mistress
She drips like liquid from a slender bottle
She just wants to fuck him. She's keeping him sane
She comes here for comfort. She puts a knife in my brain
Now I know what it's like now.
Hatred in the absence of love
My body's expanding.
I'm alive
I'm alive
I just want to know why.
She kept it so long
An ice pick. A crooked throat strangled shapeless, and unidentified. Piano wires and broken teeth.
Addiction. Addiction. Addict. Infect her. Infect me. Stabbed through a glory hole and pissfucked forever.
Take a deep drag now
Keep the poison close. Starving egos. Feeding lust. Growing ever colder
Starve the ego
Starve the ego
Scowling and foul and deep in a hole
Something mad
Something loud
Something deaf
Something proud
Smoking. Smiling. Her hair smells like piss and her eyes are sullen.
Wrinkled skin and a hideous gait.
She is my father's mistress
I know her too well.
She arrives at once.
Hidden by darkness and smelling like wine.
She doesn't talk, and she only emotes through the throes of a spastic orgasm.
Her breath smells like ash. Her breath smells like ash. Her breath smells like ash.
Yellowed teeth. Broken fang. Coarse disposition. She screams something insane.
I never wanted to know her. She never bothered to meet me
She's killing his mind. She's feeding his lust. A seed of hatred buried in her womb. A load dislodged in the back of her throat
She is my father's mistress
She drips like liquid from a slender bottle
She just wants to fuck him. She's keeping him sane
She comes here for comfort. She puts a knife in my brain
Now I know what it's like now.
Hatred in the absence of love
My body's expanding.
I'm alive
I'm alive
I just want to know why.
She kept it so long
An ice pick. A crooked throat strangled shapeless, and unidentified. Piano wires and broken teeth.
Addiction. Addiction. Addict. Infect her. Infect me. Stabbed through a glory hole and pissfucked forever.
Take a deep drag now
Keep the poison close. Starving egos. Feeding lust. Growing ever colder
Starve the ego
Starve the ego
Scowling and foul and deep in a hole
Something mad
Something loud
Something deaf
Something proud
Tuesday, April 15, 2014
Love? Fuck. Hate. Destroy.
Life comes and goes in a series of spastic orgasms. Bodily fluids and shallow goodbyes
Androgynous and proud, and stuck in a cycle of deceit. Midnight orgies in the school for the blind
Superfluous, fickle, digital images all flash their neon display. Find me on Twitter. Friend request my Facebook. Tinder and Match, Eharmony. Swipe left. Swipe left. Swipe left. From the glowing screens and the deceptive smiles, the wry headline it bleeds
Without emotion, without consequence. Blase' and remorseless. Click and drag, click and reload. Endless profiles with their meaningless headlines. Bionic. Subversive. Retinas bleed and minds overload
Nothing here is left worth knowing. No romance. No love. Love? Emotions fading and the eyes are all wandering. Thoughts stray. The curious minds all wonder. Orifices pulverized by strangers. Phallic and swollen. Ripe for the touch. Swipe left. Swipe left. Swipe left.
Love? Fuck. Hate. Destroy.
Androgynous and proud, and stuck in a cycle of deceit. Midnight orgies in the school for the blind
Superfluous, fickle, digital images all flash their neon display. Find me on Twitter. Friend request my Facebook. Tinder and Match, Eharmony. Swipe left. Swipe left. Swipe left. From the glowing screens and the deceptive smiles, the wry headline it bleeds
Without emotion, without consequence. Blase' and remorseless. Click and drag, click and reload. Endless profiles with their meaningless headlines. Bionic. Subversive. Retinas bleed and minds overload
Nothing here is left worth knowing. No romance. No love. Love? Emotions fading and the eyes are all wandering. Thoughts stray. The curious minds all wonder. Orifices pulverized by strangers. Phallic and swollen. Ripe for the touch. Swipe left. Swipe left. Swipe left.
Love? Fuck. Hate. Destroy.
Monday, April 14, 2014
The Isolationist
Yesterday I watched him walk down to the dock with his dog. He stood there for what seemed like an eternity. He was silent, and observant. His dog did not stir. The sun began to set over the lake, and he sat in the grass and watched the stars begin their gradual ascent. He seemed to be serene, and he cast a peaceful portrait against a pastel sunset. He looked like every song that reminded you of every beautiful woman you've ever loved
I watched him and I wondered what he was thinking. I watched this man, so forlorn and so seemingly alone. His emotionless disposition made me feel at ease. His dog at his side quiet, and observant as he. I wondered if he had a wife. If his children were grown. If he had grandkids, and if they made him glow in a way that the evening sky illuminated him.
His beard was thin, and graying. He looked brittle, and as if he had seen the rigors of combat, or perhaps many years upon years of heavy substance abuse. His thin, whispy legs and gaunt physique suggested such. His eyes appeared weary and sullen. Perhaps he has seen things that would make a lesser man weep. Perhaps his weary eyes held secrets.
I watched him rise from his spot in the grass, and he stood and kept vigil toward the lake for a few moments. From his pocket he pulled a piece of tattered paper. A note. He laid this in the grass at his feet and began walking back up the dock, and ambled off toward the darkness, the setting sun at his back. After a few long purposeful strides he stopped, and he glanced back at me. He watched me for a moment, and he smiled. I smiled, and nodded my head in acknowledgement. He turned and walked into the dark, into the shadow, beyond the light of the setting sun. After a few moments he was out of sight. This man unknown. His dog as silent as he. And that was when I finally heard the shrill cries of the locusts, the insects of the night and the owls baying their nighttime elegies
In my own curious proclivity, I approached the shore line, toward his tattered letter. I picked it up for a close glance. There were a few lines of scrambled verses, and illegible scrawled nonsense.At the bottom of the letter, I read a line. It was then that I understood. And it was then that I knew I would never see this man, nor his dog ever again.
I sat upon that bank and wept
I watched him and I wondered what he was thinking. I watched this man, so forlorn and so seemingly alone. His emotionless disposition made me feel at ease. His dog at his side quiet, and observant as he. I wondered if he had a wife. If his children were grown. If he had grandkids, and if they made him glow in a way that the evening sky illuminated him.
His beard was thin, and graying. He looked brittle, and as if he had seen the rigors of combat, or perhaps many years upon years of heavy substance abuse. His thin, whispy legs and gaunt physique suggested such. His eyes appeared weary and sullen. Perhaps he has seen things that would make a lesser man weep. Perhaps his weary eyes held secrets.
I watched him rise from his spot in the grass, and he stood and kept vigil toward the lake for a few moments. From his pocket he pulled a piece of tattered paper. A note. He laid this in the grass at his feet and began walking back up the dock, and ambled off toward the darkness, the setting sun at his back. After a few long purposeful strides he stopped, and he glanced back at me. He watched me for a moment, and he smiled. I smiled, and nodded my head in acknowledgement. He turned and walked into the dark, into the shadow, beyond the light of the setting sun. After a few moments he was out of sight. This man unknown. His dog as silent as he. And that was when I finally heard the shrill cries of the locusts, the insects of the night and the owls baying their nighttime elegies
In my own curious proclivity, I approached the shore line, toward his tattered letter. I picked it up for a close glance. There were a few lines of scrambled verses, and illegible scrawled nonsense.At the bottom of the letter, I read a line. It was then that I understood. And it was then that I knew I would never see this man, nor his dog ever again.
I sat upon that bank and wept
Thursday, April 3, 2014
Speculation and Grace Beneath the Collapse of Civilization
Last night I put on my sunglasses and went outside, so I could watch the sun collide with the moon
There were colors, explosions, sparks, and embers.
I watched the fire fall to the earth, and listened to the sounds of scorched grass and dying animals
The night came alive in the faces of the screaming anguished. The pain in their faces and the panicking throngs of people rushing the streets
I watched this display unflinchingly, as I laid in the grass on my hill. I was calm, and eased out of my shoes and felt the wet grass pallid beneath my feet, and I was reminded of the first time I saw you
I remembered the way you walked into the room. I remembered your smell
I thought of the way you would rub my hand when I went to grasp it. The colors in your eyes and the wrinkles in the corners of them. Your skin and it's smell, the way you observed me when I talked, and the way you kept patient when I stuttered
The first time you took my breath away. The night was aglow under street lamps. You kept me tight and held me close, and for the first time in my life, I felt like I was part of something that was greater than my own pathetic,moribund existence. I felt 36 feet tall
You were always warm and smiling. I was the sightless worm beneath the boot
You wore your sun dress, and I remembered your elegance and grace as you slipped out of it
I remember the way you would tug at my hair when I tasted your womb
I remember when you told me all the things I never wanted to hear about myself
The night my dreams fell back to earth, and I returned to the pit. Desperation, isolation and despair. A return to reality. Gutted, emptied, bleeding and stricken down. The harsh cold repugnance of being and the strife I always knew, came roiling back and spat in my face. An inevitable collapse. Crucified by the illusion of love. A cold, callous reminder. My eyes rolling back and cowled in shame
I wonder where you are, and I wonder if you are watching the sky like me.
I wonder if you are scared, or if this fire and ash, and all of the dead things around us are amusing
I know I won't ever see you again. I almost don't think I need to
I hope you think of me, the way I thought of you
Surrounded by the brilliance of the fires, the embers and their dance
Somehow I think you'll find the beauty of it all, and maybe you smile. Maybe you laugh
The sweet, languishing irony. If we survive maybe you can sew up my wounds
Hear the children screaming, the sirens all blaring
Behold the water, shimmering under suspended fire
I hope it reminds you of me. I want you to see the sight of a fiery rain
I hope you cherish it as I do When the sky line collapses and the air is too thick, I wonder if I am among your dying thoughts. Everything is so bright here. I hope you wear sunglasses, too
When I watch it I will be smiling. I hope I'm the last one alive
There were colors, explosions, sparks, and embers.
I watched the fire fall to the earth, and listened to the sounds of scorched grass and dying animals
The night came alive in the faces of the screaming anguished. The pain in their faces and the panicking throngs of people rushing the streets
I watched this display unflinchingly, as I laid in the grass on my hill. I was calm, and eased out of my shoes and felt the wet grass pallid beneath my feet, and I was reminded of the first time I saw you
I remembered the way you walked into the room. I remembered your smell
I thought of the way you would rub my hand when I went to grasp it. The colors in your eyes and the wrinkles in the corners of them. Your skin and it's smell, the way you observed me when I talked, and the way you kept patient when I stuttered
The first time you took my breath away. The night was aglow under street lamps. You kept me tight and held me close, and for the first time in my life, I felt like I was part of something that was greater than my own pathetic,moribund existence. I felt 36 feet tall
You were always warm and smiling. I was the sightless worm beneath the boot
You wore your sun dress, and I remembered your elegance and grace as you slipped out of it
I remember the way you would tug at my hair when I tasted your womb
I remember when you told me all the things I never wanted to hear about myself
The night my dreams fell back to earth, and I returned to the pit. Desperation, isolation and despair. A return to reality. Gutted, emptied, bleeding and stricken down. The harsh cold repugnance of being and the strife I always knew, came roiling back and spat in my face. An inevitable collapse. Crucified by the illusion of love. A cold, callous reminder. My eyes rolling back and cowled in shame
I wonder where you are, and I wonder if you are watching the sky like me.
I wonder if you are scared, or if this fire and ash, and all of the dead things around us are amusing
I know I won't ever see you again. I almost don't think I need to
I hope you think of me, the way I thought of you
Surrounded by the brilliance of the fires, the embers and their dance
Somehow I think you'll find the beauty of it all, and maybe you smile. Maybe you laugh
The sweet, languishing irony. If we survive maybe you can sew up my wounds
Hear the children screaming, the sirens all blaring
Behold the water, shimmering under suspended fire
I hope it reminds you of me. I want you to see the sight of a fiery rain
I hope you cherish it as I do When the sky line collapses and the air is too thick, I wonder if I am among your dying thoughts. Everything is so bright here. I hope you wear sunglasses, too
When I watch it I will be smiling. I hope I'm the last one alive
Wednesday, April 2, 2014
Chemical Woman
Last night I saw her again. That neon blue chemical woman. Her eyes are teal, her hair made of fire.
Her lips are painted black, she coats them with scentless, tasteless venom.
Everything she touches, explodes. She speaks in spastic bursts of hissing smoke
A liquid disposition, and she rarely emotes
Stalking the ground like a predatory cat on the hunt.
If the lighting is right, you will see her fangs.
My throat was ripe. My mind was eager.
Ivory, pointed, and penetrating all. It's a shame that my flesh was so tender
Her bloodless body moves so serene. Captivating me when it sways
She moves like an eel in the ocean. There are no words for such grace
I woke up in the grass and the sun shone upon me. I think she left me here to bleed
I should have known, to never touch her . I can smell the burning of my skin
I can't quite tell, if I ever knew her. Sometimes the memory seems so hazy
That chemical woman, she'll burn you alive. Serpentine kiss that wraps 'round your tongue
She'll pull out your spine, and she'll swallow your insides
She won't even blink, as you recoil in unfathomable pain
You will lie there dying, your flesh rendered to liquid
The irony is such that it burns you insane
Next time I will watch her from a distance. She would breathe life into lesser men
To watch them rise, and to watch them fall again
I'll watch them bleed, I'll hear them scream. Maybe I'll laugh and turn away
Such elegant murder, such clever deception
Wrapped in the thorns of love, and cloaked by a smile so cunning, so wry
To only know such tempting persuasion
The apples of Eden would rot away
Her lips are painted black, she coats them with scentless, tasteless venom.
Everything she touches, explodes. She speaks in spastic bursts of hissing smoke
A liquid disposition, and she rarely emotes
Stalking the ground like a predatory cat on the hunt.
If the lighting is right, you will see her fangs.
My throat was ripe. My mind was eager.
Ivory, pointed, and penetrating all. It's a shame that my flesh was so tender
Her bloodless body moves so serene. Captivating me when it sways
She moves like an eel in the ocean. There are no words for such grace
I woke up in the grass and the sun shone upon me. I think she left me here to bleed
I should have known, to never touch her . I can smell the burning of my skin
I can't quite tell, if I ever knew her. Sometimes the memory seems so hazy
That chemical woman, she'll burn you alive. Serpentine kiss that wraps 'round your tongue
She'll pull out your spine, and she'll swallow your insides
She won't even blink, as you recoil in unfathomable pain
You will lie there dying, your flesh rendered to liquid
The irony is such that it burns you insane
Next time I will watch her from a distance. She would breathe life into lesser men
To watch them rise, and to watch them fall again
I'll watch them bleed, I'll hear them scream. Maybe I'll laugh and turn away
Such elegant murder, such clever deception
Wrapped in the thorns of love, and cloaked by a smile so cunning, so wry
To only know such tempting persuasion
The apples of Eden would rot away
Tuesday, April 1, 2014
A Good Dog
A noose and a chair, and a room full of hate
Drawn curtains to a world long forgotten, neglected
The patchwork elegance, the conjured and manufactured happiness
Long gone. Tucked away and buried
The deepest part of the mind
The darkest recess of the skull
Memories of laughter and smiles
Coated with dust and broken
This soil long tainted
The atmosphere since poisoned
Salt the earth and cut to the root
Perceptions of grandiosity, cut down
A sky gone gray and a playground decayed
At the hanging tree all the flowers are dead
At the hanging tree, the leaves have turned black
The fruit is rotten, and it tastes like nothing at all
If there were a god on that day he would surely have frowned
If there were a god on that day he surely would have looked away
The dogs are smiling
The dogs are howling
That dog is dying
That dog is scowling
If that dog only knew
If that dog could only see
If god
If god
If god
No god
NO god
Is god?
What god?
What god?
Good dog
Drawn curtains to a world long forgotten, neglected
The patchwork elegance, the conjured and manufactured happiness
Long gone. Tucked away and buried
The deepest part of the mind
The darkest recess of the skull
Memories of laughter and smiles
Coated with dust and broken
This soil long tainted
The atmosphere since poisoned
Salt the earth and cut to the root
Perceptions of grandiosity, cut down
A sky gone gray and a playground decayed
At the hanging tree all the flowers are dead
At the hanging tree, the leaves have turned black
The fruit is rotten, and it tastes like nothing at all
If there were a god on that day he would surely have frowned
If there were a god on that day he surely would have looked away
The dogs are smiling
The dogs are howling
That dog is dying
That dog is scowling
If that dog only knew
If that dog could only see
If god
If god
If god
No god
NO god
Is god?
What god?
What god?
Good dog
Sunday, March 30, 2014
Profane Existence
With restless legs he fought away the night. An endless procession under a waning moon
The perpetual void looms and he falls, unending. Eternally. Ungracefully. The venom and the wrath and a serpent in his dream.
Retribution for the sins that never were. A locust plague in his mind, displaying it's harsh dominance. Cold, calculated cruelty. Devouring all. Leaving nothing. Keep them open. The eyes fail to perceive
Prostrated, blind, and weeping alone. There were blood smears on the stones. A forest stream and all of the fish are dead. Bloated carcasses. Lifeless eyes. He comes here for wisdom, for strength. How his mind would fail to acquiesce. Now there is nothing here but death. Cold repugnance and nothing left to restore. It burns into his mind.
Entrails dragging from a slit in his belly. Gouged out eyes and a hole in his skull. His tongue is gone and his mouth, how it bleeds. He's vomiting blood and cursing the sky. It won't even rain. He wants to know why.
Destroying himself to prove a point
Pursuant to his own celestial design
Even the blood pools on its own accord
An appropriate end to a foul existence
He left on his own terms
The perpetual void looms and he falls, unending. Eternally. Ungracefully. The venom and the wrath and a serpent in his dream.
Retribution for the sins that never were. A locust plague in his mind, displaying it's harsh dominance. Cold, calculated cruelty. Devouring all. Leaving nothing. Keep them open. The eyes fail to perceive
Prostrated, blind, and weeping alone. There were blood smears on the stones. A forest stream and all of the fish are dead. Bloated carcasses. Lifeless eyes. He comes here for wisdom, for strength. How his mind would fail to acquiesce. Now there is nothing here but death. Cold repugnance and nothing left to restore. It burns into his mind.
Entrails dragging from a slit in his belly. Gouged out eyes and a hole in his skull. His tongue is gone and his mouth, how it bleeds. He's vomiting blood and cursing the sky. It won't even rain. He wants to know why.
Destroying himself to prove a point
Pursuant to his own celestial design
Even the blood pools on its own accord
An appropriate end to a foul existence
He left on his own terms
Thursday, February 27, 2014
The Antagonist
Pull out the thorn, and bury your god. Swallow hope and spew forth your reasons
Holding you down. Forced open mouth. Fingers in throat purging the faith
Like a rain dance in the desert. Like a fallen rainbow in the arctic
Broken, and bleeding it's colors. Soon it's faded and disappears
Now everything is a brackish hue
This place smells of roses. It's like a nightmare never-ending.
All the people here are smiling. Counting teeth. Avoiding the eyes
You looked uneasy. I felt nothing at all
Life is performance art. Everyone playing a role. Most go, some stay
Keep those walls up. Build that fortress tall
You can't let them in. They want to know it all
Stay alive. Suck it all in. Oxygen. Nutrients. Absorb the life force
Making memories. Carve out a hollow epitaph
Some folks never get there. Sometimes the beanstalk only grows so tall
Living life in a shell. Keep it holy. Keep it well. Heaven waiting for the ones without questions
Reject it. Deny everything and everyone. Refuse, and resist
Hold your breath. Starve yourself, and withhold
Opposition and strife are all you know
Peel it all back. Puke it all up. Pull off the face and reveal the lies
No truth. No reason. Everything here is a fucking fairy tale.
Remember when you were the one. Remember when you felt the cold burn. The fire and the flame. The singed embers on your flesh. The truth and it's unforgiving face
No one can ever know. That bitter taste left everything sour
Remember it well. Life is performance art. We are here to dance and sing
They want us to fail. We were born to fail. It was meant to die. Nothing ever meant anything more
Hold your grudge. Find a reason. A furrowed brow and nothing more
Self righteous and proud. It makes me sick. Vomit. Shit. Blood in the stool
Holding you down. Forced open mouth. Fingers in throat purging the faith
Like a rain dance in the desert. Like a fallen rainbow in the arctic
Broken, and bleeding it's colors. Soon it's faded and disappears
Now everything is a brackish hue
This place smells of roses. It's like a nightmare never-ending.
All the people here are smiling. Counting teeth. Avoiding the eyes
You looked uneasy. I felt nothing at all
Life is performance art. Everyone playing a role. Most go, some stay
Keep those walls up. Build that fortress tall
You can't let them in. They want to know it all
Stay alive. Suck it all in. Oxygen. Nutrients. Absorb the life force
Making memories. Carve out a hollow epitaph
Some folks never get there. Sometimes the beanstalk only grows so tall
Living life in a shell. Keep it holy. Keep it well. Heaven waiting for the ones without questions
Reject it. Deny everything and everyone. Refuse, and resist
Hold your breath. Starve yourself, and withhold
Opposition and strife are all you know
Peel it all back. Puke it all up. Pull off the face and reveal the lies
No truth. No reason. Everything here is a fucking fairy tale.
Remember when you were the one. Remember when you felt the cold burn. The fire and the flame. The singed embers on your flesh. The truth and it's unforgiving face
No one can ever know. That bitter taste left everything sour
Remember it well. Life is performance art. We are here to dance and sing
They want us to fail. We were born to fail. It was meant to die. Nothing ever meant anything more
Hold your grudge. Find a reason. A furrowed brow and nothing more
Self righteous and proud. It makes me sick. Vomit. Shit. Blood in the stool
Tuesday, February 25, 2014
Tethered
Tethered to the root. Engrained in the sod and immersed in the dark
It grows deeper. It only gets colder. Sullen and gray. The crow-path grown over
Chains keep you here. Rusted and weathered. Bound in the moss and the weeds overgrown
Kept in the dark and left there to rot. Veins are corrupt and hair falling out
Only the gums are still bleeding. Too old to scream, too tired to care
Too many years and too many bottles. Acidic and vile. Yellowed skin. Narrowed taste
Too sick to vomit. The children grown, and jaded they stray
A deaf man will speak. A blind man still sees.
Dead men know no such things. A clinking glass. The empty jug
Stay the course. Never gone dry. Kept to the hilt, pour just one more
Welcome the darkness. Relishing seclusion.
Mirrors long shattered. Windows since boarded
His eyes have grown weary
His clothes are all tattered
What once was, will no longer be. And when he speaks, the tongues are unknown
I said goodbye. I tried it one time. Too many years
I said my goodbye. I meant it then too
Inherit the scorn. Keep it with you then.
An engine for hate. And It burns clean
A dog on his chain. A dog in his cage.
Embittered by fleas and foul with his mange
His dirty eyes don't bother
He wants nothing more
He expects nothing less
So I'll leave you alone
I expect you to rot
You expect nothing better
Now the bloodline is shot
It grows deeper. It only gets colder. Sullen and gray. The crow-path grown over
Chains keep you here. Rusted and weathered. Bound in the moss and the weeds overgrown
Kept in the dark and left there to rot. Veins are corrupt and hair falling out
Only the gums are still bleeding. Too old to scream, too tired to care
Too many years and too many bottles. Acidic and vile. Yellowed skin. Narrowed taste
Too sick to vomit. The children grown, and jaded they stray
A deaf man will speak. A blind man still sees.
Dead men know no such things. A clinking glass. The empty jug
Stay the course. Never gone dry. Kept to the hilt, pour just one more
Welcome the darkness. Relishing seclusion.
Mirrors long shattered. Windows since boarded
His eyes have grown weary
His clothes are all tattered
What once was, will no longer be. And when he speaks, the tongues are unknown
I said goodbye. I tried it one time. Too many years
I said my goodbye. I meant it then too
Inherit the scorn. Keep it with you then.
An engine for hate. And It burns clean
A dog on his chain. A dog in his cage.
Embittered by fleas and foul with his mange
His dirty eyes don't bother
He wants nothing more
He expects nothing less
So I'll leave you alone
I expect you to rot
You expect nothing better
Now the bloodline is shot
Colder
A lonely march toward the ocean. Something beckons, far away and unknown. Drawn like a moth to the light
Feet are calloused, chest is burning. Gathering sweat on the brow. The sky ahead, unexpectedly bright
A slow dive into an ethereal cloud. Is this death? This is so pure
There is no sound. The light is failing. I've never been so sure
A dormant ache. It's stirring now. Ignored for years and now rekindled
I've been told that life will be this way
Something colder tugs at my sleeve, and I know it will not go away
I've kept the wolves and all their masters, I've been waiting for this day
If nothing else, you deserve your answers. For that I will give you, your reprieve.
Just know that now I have found meaning. And when you see that, you'll be at ease
Feet are calloused, chest is burning. Gathering sweat on the brow. The sky ahead, unexpectedly bright
A slow dive into an ethereal cloud. Is this death? This is so pure
There is no sound. The light is failing. I've never been so sure
A dormant ache. It's stirring now. Ignored for years and now rekindled
I've been told that life will be this way
Something colder tugs at my sleeve, and I know it will not go away
I've kept the wolves and all their masters, I've been waiting for this day
If nothing else, you deserve your answers. For that I will give you, your reprieve.
Just know that now I have found meaning. And when you see that, you'll be at ease
Sunday, February 9, 2014
Between the Lights
5 years as a ghost. Coming and going and walking between the lights
Sometimes the sun seems so far away. I can taste the brush fire in my throat
Never closer to death. Somehow feels more alive. Inside my head the clock lags
Those tiresome, loathsome hours spent. Basking in dim light like a reptile
Languish under the weight. Knees don't buckle but the mind is weakening
Porous. Cavities rife with the tumors. Planted long ago
An acquired taste. Soon the dirt tastes like wine
There are the loathsome days. The bitter hours
Fire, urine, sepulchral smoke entwined
Dust coats it all. Choked with poison and holding a ransom
A mind that is clear. Twin eyes. Beholden
Crawl. Dragging your knees. On your belly. Blisters. Ooze
Everything went cold. Chittering insects beckon
Follow it down. Pull out your eyes and drown out the sound
Sometimes the sun seems so far away. I can taste the brush fire in my throat
Never closer to death. Somehow feels more alive. Inside my head the clock lags
Those tiresome, loathsome hours spent. Basking in dim light like a reptile
Languish under the weight. Knees don't buckle but the mind is weakening
Porous. Cavities rife with the tumors. Planted long ago
An acquired taste. Soon the dirt tastes like wine
There are the loathsome days. The bitter hours
Fire, urine, sepulchral smoke entwined
Dust coats it all. Choked with poison and holding a ransom
A mind that is clear. Twin eyes. Beholden
Crawl. Dragging your knees. On your belly. Blisters. Ooze
Everything went cold. Chittering insects beckon
Follow it down. Pull out your eyes and drown out the sound
Bitter Moon
I keep a cannon in my bedroom
For shooting secrets to the moon
Although I know they'll never reach her
I still pretend she'll read them soon
I wear a darkened mask at night time
I paint it this way so no one sees
Because the air around me is too thick now
Sometimes I find it hard to breathe
I sit alone in my own prison. I wonder where the answers lie
The bitter moon above me scowling. I think of all the men she's seen die
Sometimes I hear their cannons blasting
And then I know I'm not alone.
Since her heart is made of cold rocks
That's when I know I'm not the only one she's stoned
For shooting secrets to the moon
Although I know they'll never reach her
I still pretend she'll read them soon
I wear a darkened mask at night time
I paint it this way so no one sees
Because the air around me is too thick now
Sometimes I find it hard to breathe
I sit alone in my own prison. I wonder where the answers lie
The bitter moon above me scowling. I think of all the men she's seen die
Sometimes I hear their cannons blasting
And then I know I'm not alone.
Since her heart is made of cold rocks
That's when I know I'm not the only one she's stoned
Closed Casket
Last night I saw you at the laundromat. You pretended not to notice
Your skin looks like porcelain or glass. I want to smell your hair
Nauseated, sick, brain and thoughts turn foul. I can't even look and I tried, not to care
Bristled and burning, locked jaw and fevered blood. Stiffened gait and swallowed tongue. I can't even remember what brought me here. Arched back. Swollen throat. Heart ablaze. I forgot my coat
Smashing clocks. Burning curtains. Bedsheets soaked in gasoline. A closed casket heart. Inert. Sterilized. Comatose. Days once bathed in sunlight all went cold.. All of the warmth is gone. The trees are all dying, the leaves all withered. That river bed is dry. Everything now is gray and pale. The crows have long since gathered. I haven't eaten in days
Your skin looks like porcelain or glass. I want to smell your hair
Nauseated, sick, brain and thoughts turn foul. I can't even look and I tried, not to care
Bristled and burning, locked jaw and fevered blood. Stiffened gait and swallowed tongue. I can't even remember what brought me here. Arched back. Swollen throat. Heart ablaze. I forgot my coat
Smashing clocks. Burning curtains. Bedsheets soaked in gasoline. A closed casket heart. Inert. Sterilized. Comatose. Days once bathed in sunlight all went cold.. All of the warmth is gone. The trees are all dying, the leaves all withered. That river bed is dry. Everything now is gray and pale. The crows have long since gathered. I haven't eaten in days
Clean Water
Plastic people. Adorable costumes, playing their parts. They come here and they play their bit. They know their role and they fall in line. Commonplace. Comfortable ideals and nothing more. No feathers to ruffle, no turf upturned.
The truth machine runs dry. Unclean, virginity soiled and fouled by poisoned cosmos. Terrestrial ambiguity and a tambourine plays for nothing, for no one but me. Crippled by the truth. Foul taste. Foul ideals. Forgot the day when it meant more.
Remember the sunshine. Clean water. Pull up, pull out, dry the bones. Take this towel and bury it. Take me home. Take me home and tuck me in. I want it to end. I want it all. I wish I never met you
The truth machine runs dry. Unclean, virginity soiled and fouled by poisoned cosmos. Terrestrial ambiguity and a tambourine plays for nothing, for no one but me. Crippled by the truth. Foul taste. Foul ideals. Forgot the day when it meant more.
Remember the sunshine. Clean water. Pull up, pull out, dry the bones. Take this towel and bury it. Take me home. Take me home and tuck me in. I want it to end. I want it all. I wish I never met you
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