Tuesday, March 11, 2003

I spit words at this screen in attempt to reconcile the things unsaid and the things said between us in the midnight hours long after I'd left but was still there why do these things happen to those that don't deserve them to happen to them what should happen to them is that they're set free of what it is they're told what it is they've thought fuck chains nobody needs chains we were elevated for a reason weren't we not to tie us down that's for fucking sure I sure don't understand why I can't get over something as simple as someone else it's a fucking person not a mountain but mohammed said something about a mountain so I suppose maybe people are mountains mountains of sin grief sadness happiness joy fuck that people are mountains of shit and why am I the only person I can actually talk to which I do pretty often often enough for it to maybe be a little bit scary to those outside my life but hey we like things the way they are and if you want to commit us so be it it'll just give us more time to be by ourselves and do what it is we really want to do which oddly enough is talk to ourselves I want to find a way a way out of here a way out of the system that has become my life but that's the problem with systems they come around and they punch you like the square peg into a round hole that doesn't fit you because fuck you asshole I'm square not fucking round I want a way out of here I want a way out of here I have to get out of here before here becomes part of me

Friday, February 21, 2003

Did this get deleted?!?!?

Saturday, February 01, 2003

You're A Vestigial Racist!
You're A Vestigial Racist!

What Kind of Racist are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

Friday, January 17, 2003

So anyway, I'm up tonight and thought I'd make a new post with something I wrote as an away message, but apparently people liked, so I thought I'd put it in here, just for a lark. People from Tartan Village and Lake D'evereaux know exactly what I am talking about.

Cold winter air courses through my veins, making me immune, making me strong, making me fast and powerful in purpose. I move swiftly, dodging the gusts of wind as I duck behind the teetering street lamps that line the side of the road like so many broken stars, some giving their light, some semblance of warmth or hope; others defeated before their time, waiting for a new bulb that will never come. I cross a wooden bridge, and old wooden bridge that has guarded the pass over the creek for as long as I've known it. What monsters creep underneath this rickity platform, my mind used to wonder, but now I know the only monsters are on the other side of the road, at the convienience store which is now my destination. Death comes to us all, I speed to mine with the alacrity of wings of cold and light of cigarettes.

Needless to say, I survived the trip.

Tuesday, October 15, 2002

Yeah, I DID get fired. That's why I haven't been on all that much lately. I'll make more of an effort to post in here more regularly.

Wednesday, September 25, 2002

Dirty Sam Roberts

You're the pirate everyone else wants to throw in the ocean -- not to get rid of you, you understand; just to get rid of the smell. Two things complete your pirate persona: style and swagger. Maybe a little too much swagger sometimes -- but who really cares? Arr!

Monday, September 23, 2002

I think I have finally done it. I think I will be fired. So why don't I feel good about it?