Heat stroke.

Concrete, set we dwell

On material things

Engulf our thoughts with unnecessary wonders.

Splitting our mind, dividing our body

Causing a rip in the unison.

Perplexed, we turn to our brain.

The brain wants peace but we turn the other cheek.

We sulk, contemplate, commiserate.

Dead silence, we tried.

And so we wait some more

Yet now we dwell in calm.

Why did I do this to myself again?

What a whirlwind. We sit catercorner to each other, each with our respective laptops and our bonechilling silence cutting the air like a razor sharp knife. We both have our opinions on the world and we both just want some fucking recognition. Dominating the airwaves, sweeping our histories into new story lines in hopes of grabbing the audience's attention. Coming away with a sort of nonchalant victorious undertone. Drinking Pabst, the hipster jungle juice. Maybe we'll take a break and dwindle into our present. Maybe we'll jab some sarcasm into the equation. When you are on a hiatus from your peers you start to question your integrity, even for a millisecond.

Watching porn on mute while listening to good music. This would be a good porno if if had Ellie Goulding music in it.

True story.

I haven't needed to masturbate in a good while. This may sound pathetic at best but it's actually been refreshing. I was able to get off a substantial amount by get this... a guy for once. I've given my hand a much needed timeout. Best hookup of 2009 goes to the guy I was with the other night. Guys that are willing and wanting to please you and not think of themselves for once = A+++

Moderation vs. Temptation.

This little blog of mine, I'm gonna let it shine. Let it shine, let is shine, let it... simmer down now. Coated crimson leaves gathering in Texas trees. Forging ahead with this path I chose for myself. I decided to move here. I decide what clothes I will wear. I decide how broke I want to be. It's a unique position to be in but i'll run with it. I've got the reigns this time around. All signs point to burdening myself with past mistakes.

Speaking of which I was wondering if it was possible for me to move the fuck on. Recycle your name, bury it deep underground with your personal belongings that i'm still hoarding. It's the one thing i'm not proud of, mentioning you in casual conversation. It's just a timed reminder of how far I have NOT come. Almost 3 years ago, give me a back memory bank. I need to stop comparing, stop romanticizing our brief stint as a "we". It was premature and young and unrealistic. I was a shy sophomore and you were a naive little boy. I suppose you are now a keepsake. A mystical being that once managed to make me laugh. And boy did you make made laugh. You said all the right things exactly on cue. If I would have known that I'd still care to this day I would've cut the cord from the getgo. See it's not that i'm afraid to say that only one boy has made me feel, okay well maybe it is. But i've got something you don't have and that's....... motivation. This is my farewell to my first skin.

When we first bared our bones.

Veilied in lonliness, naked,
my vulnerability relays itself for the crowd’s sick viewing pleasure.
My seeping wounds of virgin guilt are so naively displayed.
“What a measly attempt at forging ahead.” That’s what I said.
Salvage my soul, if you would.
I’m yearning for bittersweet serenity, that pinnacle of divine intervention.
All the while waiting for a buildup of sustainable stamina.
Stamina that will prop up my soul once more.
Decode this cryptic insanity mother time has bestowed upon us.
I’ll be waiting in the wings, fires a blazing.

Inspiration writing pt.II.

"What you don't understand you can make mean anything."

My mind. Punctured, tainted scarce.
Fleeting and whimsical.
Perpetual bliss spirals down my vertabrae, only to be outdone by wild winds of plague.
To be made up only to be torn down.
My mind is hidden and wired.
It takes offense and then succombs to the norm.
Much like a torpedo through the airwaves it will not be silenced.


Reading Chuck P’s ‘Diary’ really inspired me.