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[18 Jul 2004|02:31pm] [ music | saves the day ] i've noticed a few things lately. well for one my inability to express myself on these things lately has got my mind sort of stagnated. it sucks. i'm alot less confused than i have been for the last five or six months(+).. also, i've noticed that the absence of pot in the later hours where i'm going to go to bed results in insomnia. it's either that or i just pass out without realizing it. and as this rant seems to have no structure anyways, a few more things like feelings. motherfucker. murderer!

[10 Jul 2004|03:29pm] [ music | qwel ] such is the belief disenchanted her eyes were closed mother nature holds grudges negative, but, still ringing in my ears angels building homes the crisis of over worked tenacity she would not cope carries a relationship with her mirror riding this day to it's untimely death not a drop to sustain the poisons are vigilant enough to withstand my hands follow me to where futility stands pause collect persist love is a demon that destroys you ridiculously, enough breath of stale air producing lullabys wrapped in calamity and smothered by consistancy do we rise with the sun? or the sun with us? murderer!

[09 Jul 2004|11:30am] [ music | common ] get away the pregnant day gives birth to a truth only she knew and only she could see lyricism produces liars collisions imminant in ware cut from the same cloth as the rain drenching us broken up bruised critically if i ask wasted deliverance contemporary devotion if i told you not to hold my hand would the disease we call love stop? pace yourself, dear. murderer!

tin can skeleton [02 Jul 2004|11:55am] [ music | aesopROCK ] wake me up with shotgun morality birthday wishes strewn across the floor like shattered glass your heart skips a beat over my own and it bring an almost deafening sound that was not her mother's wishes stood radiant astouding cold glances but still powerful enough to tip the world out of place claw at the paint capture the remains i would stand still on hilltops to breathe radiance in her eyes believe me... murderer!

[01 Jul 2004|02:07pm] [ music | aesopROCK ] i've never done shit with my life. no job. no diploma[yet. shit on me.] no, that's bullshit. i'm eighteen, that's still, young enough not to care. er, when are we old enough to have to care? i've drawn millions of pictures, only some of which in galleries. i've been in countless bands, tho none recorded or played. i've got a catalog of a billion words written, tho, none of it published. i've worked my ass off for those things. so, i guess i've done SOMETHING, just the going SOMEWHERE is what i sort of lack at the moment. it's like, lighting a really short fuse and running as fast away from the explosion as possible, but somehow once the match struck and it was held to that wick, it blew up in your face. i guess that's how my passions work. get the fuck off my back, like whoa! but with all the things i've "accomplished" i've made a few people smile. so, is that worth enough? or am i just bitching again? 1 murderer!

o, my lord. what have i gotten myself into? [01 Jul 2004|11:50am] [ music | aesopROCK ] 07: beached upon a corroding shore, stranded in a land diseased by reason. shelling out dollar bills, paying for your treason. in the psyche of a demoted officer, mother earth has lost all respect for rotten activists. shoveling doubtful inventions into the fire of a ship going mostly nowhere. it's always beside the point in matter of fact conversations, and sometiles i'd build me a shell to fall in love with. unfathomable discretion elevated. proving to be a worthy hunter, she shot down serenity and claimed her prize. needless to say, they made her chief. but she would carry you still across hell barefoot and a furcoat on her back to show you true divinity marked by the scornful proud. her eyes were still green like emerald rebirth, and satyrical still in the form of meaning. the sky has dissapeared beneath your feet, and fleeing behind the sun to shut out the darkness. day seven, he kicked up his feet to proclaim a project finished, and loved his consistant grasp of nocturnal torment. he laughed to himself, and went to bed. 01: today we bend spoons, for words that resemble train wrecks fill my dusty subconscious. your fictitious role is nothing short of amazing, in ever changing concerns. distraught by off-key father figures, twisted were the revolutionaries we had constructed, resisting nothing in particular, but drawn out by past rhetoric, in misinformed manners. she was unsure of her shallow reincarnation of a glamorous Christ, and the neon colored recreation of his words. a reinactment we had reread to our children, for their sake alone we resolve the plague of dizzying realism. nourishing the ways of starry-eyed disbelief, standing between shock and awe, to a form of boundless resemblance, a mental avalanche of sorts, recuperating from portable thought processes. and giving way to a more constructive creator, who builds shivering guiltless monuments to befriend criticisms wealthy consumer welfare, here and abroad. we smile between takes, but they kept the camera rolling for our wilted glance composed our expressions unwittingly. and we demanded cutthroat enthusiasm. but, our roles were set before us, the basis for our heartwarming display of confusion and love. far beyond heavenly rites, consuming the stars to shine eternally, but driven out by your presence. replaced with a ravenous deity of famished distinction, both horrid and absurd murderer!

[29 Jun 2004|03:52pm] hello, folks. murderer!

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