| (no subject) |
[Sep. 19th, 2009|09:33 pm] |
|
I decided to come back to journaling but this LJ is a disgrace so I made a new one. "lahepa" is the username. It's been so long I don't remember how to link to other journal names. Feel free to add :) |
|
|
| Goodbye, Theodora. |
[Mar. 13th, 2008|05:47 pm] |
Rest in peace, my three-inch friend. I'm sorry for killing you. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Mar. 5th, 2008|10:27 pm] |
| [ | Skullfuck |
| | HBMS- The Projects (also the venga boys) | ] |
ALL OV U. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Mar. 4th, 2008|11:50 pm] |
|
The Sandlot is the greatest movie ever created. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Feb. 26th, 2008|09:54 am] |
| [ | Skullfuck |
| | Brand New- The Archers Bows Have Broken | ] |
Hola. Yo quería tan sólo saludar. Qué hay de nuevo en vuestras vidas?
Sé que he estado DESAPARECIDO EN COMBATE recientemente. Lo siento por esto. He vuelto. Pero ahora estoy muy ocupada. Acabo de empezar mi trabajo como un tutor de inglés. Trabajo con los estudiantes extranjeros que no hablan inglés y quieren aprenderlo, específicamente con los que hablan español. No hablo español con fluidez todavía pero no es realmente necesario hablarlo con fluidez- solamente bastante para comunicar con ellos en una manera básica. Es, después de todo, inglés básico. Es muy interesante entender cómo se enseña su propio idioma. Muy interesante y muy vergonzosa. Inglés es tan deprimente. A propósito...de ahora en adelante hablaré y escribiré SOLAMENTE en español. Hay que hacer esto si quiero dominar el idioma tan rápidamente como sea posible! Entonces si quieres continuar de hablar conmigo, tienes que aprenderlo. Fine es broma pero si tu lo aprendes te daré una galleta. Una galleta, una mamada...cualquiera que prefieras. No pero srsly. No más inglés. Estoy más que harto de todo este RUIDO. Sólo el bonito español, alemán, o francés [estoy aprendiendo los tres]. Y luego voy a seguir con ruso, holandés, árabe, sueco, italiano, sánscrita, und islandés. A propósito, si tuviera un amigo con quien podría hablar francés, le estaría muy agradecida. Ya conozco a varias personas que hablan español y alemán...pero no francés! VENGAN, CANADIENSES. Nada, pero me FUCKING encanta trabajar con diferentes idiomas y culturas y personas marrones. Creo que quiero dedicarme a la profesión de la enseñanza, en todos idiomas y maneras que sean posible. Quiero viajar el mundo, y cambiarlo en los maneras pequeños sino significativos. Y, un día, posiblemente en las maneras grandes. Fíjate, yo dije 'cambiarlo'. Al diablo con salvarlo.
Y qué más? Nada más, realmente. Espero que uds. estén viviendo las vidas con amor y pasión, y que no se maten en este mundo de transgresiones. Puede que DIOS los odie...pero yo no! Y algunos de uds....los echo de menos. Mantengo el deseo de ver que uds. crezcan y prosperen en el futuro. Y espero que puedan sentirme cerca.
Amor a todos.
Oh btw, me hice más tatuajes. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jan. 27th, 2008|07:10 pm] |
| [ | Skullfuck |
| | Atmosphere- Blamegame | ] |
I got a new tattoo! |
|
|
| Better self-portrait. |
[Jan. 23rd, 2008|05:12 pm] |
| [ | Skullfuck |
| | Rose Clouds 88: i drew the roses with my blood | ] |
By Alexandra Koroleva |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Dec. 3rd, 2007|02:20 pm] |
Samurai Song.
When I had no roof I made
Audacity my roof. When I had
No supper my eyes dined.
When I had no eyes I listened.
When I had no ears I thought.
When I had no thought I waited.
When I had no father I made
Care my father. When I had
No mother I embraced order.
When I had no friend I made
Quiet my friend. When I had no
Enemy I opposed my body.
When I had no temple I made
My voice my temple. I have
No priest, my tongue is my choir.
When I have no means fortune
Is my means. When I have
Nothing, death will be my fortune.
Need is my tactic, detachment
Is my strategy. When I had
No lover I courted my sleep.
Robert Pinsky. |
|
|
| draft 1 |
[Nov. 7th, 2007|07:34 pm] |
Rose Clouds 88: As I walked into the castle a foreboding sense of fear washed over me.
Rodney Bathe: Then I thrusted the needle deep into his urethra
Rose Clouds 88: Suddenly remembering that the past tense of "thrust" is "thrust"
Rodney Bathe: Remembering alongside that that I'd forgotten to turn the stove off this morning.
Rose Clouds 88: But what did it matter now
Rose Clouds 88: I was going to die. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Nov. 6th, 2007|10:04 am] |
| [ | Skullfuck |
| | Samsas Traum- 20 Schritte Freiheit | ] |
Rose Clouds 88: i'm sorry i didn't want to look at a picture of your shit
Rodney Bathe: I'm sorry I wanted you to look at a picture of my shit.
Rose Clouds 88: it's ok
Rose Clouds 88: <3
Rodney Bathe: :-*
Rose Clouds 88: BFF?
Rodney Bathe: BFFAE |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Nov. 3rd, 2007|02:21 pm] |
| [ | Skullfuck |
| | hocico- signo de muerte | ] |
Rose Clouds 88: do you know that feeling when you take a really good shit
Rose Clouds 88: and like you are going to wipe your ass but there's nothing to even wipe
Rose Clouds 88: your asshole is totally clean
Rose Clouds 88: and the paper just GLIDES across it
Rodney Bathe: YES
Rose Clouds 88: don't you love that
Rodney Bathe: it's so jovial
Rose Clouds 88: i know
Rodney Bathe: Unlike the sinister shits I usually take
Rose Clouds 88: I call it "God's greatest gift to mankind"
Rodney Bathe: I thought you don't shit
Rodney Bathe: 'at all'
Rose Clouds 88: I don't
Rose Clouds 88: I just observe it in other people |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Oct. 31st, 2007|12:46 pm] |
| [ | Skullfuck |
| | Logh- In Cold Blood | ] |
Fuck yeah seaking. |
|
|
| Unbind. |
[Oct. 29th, 2007|04:00 pm] |
Wake the fuck up and stay the fuck up. It's not bad timing, you're bad people.
This is going to sting but it's the right thing to do. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Oct. 8th, 2007|03:21 pm] |
| [ | Skullfuck |
| | Brand New- Welcome to Bangkok | ] |
This is the most beautiful, poignant picture I have ever known. |
|
|
| FUCK. |
[Oct. 1st, 2007|09:04 pm] |
Rodney Bathe: i am drunk and binging
Rodney Bathe: fuck
Rose Clouds 88: thats ok
Rose Clouds 88: i always do that
Rodney Bathe: i'm eating
Rodney Bathe: chicken with mashes potatoes
Rodney Bathe: and peanut butter with bananas
Rose Clouds 88: omg one time i was crying and listening to blutengel in the darkness while eating a PINT of cherry ice cream
Rodney Bathe: and yams
Rose Clouds 88: best day of my life
Rodney Bathe: HAHAHAH
Rodney Bathe: proflielz
Rose Clouds 88: yams ARE potatos.
Rodney Bathe: yeah but they're difference
Rodney Bathe: different
Rose Clouds 88: "they're difference"
Rose Clouds 88: "they're difference"
Rose Clouds 88: "they're difference"
Rodney Bathe: and creamed corn
Rodney Bathe: and peanut butter eminems
Rodney Bathe: m&ms
Rose Clouds 88: sounds like someone is having a good thanksgiving
Rodney Bathe: oh no wait these are the crunchy kind
Rodney Bathe: crispy
Rose Clouds 88: one time i drank like
Rose Clouds 88: 350 ml of vodka
Rose Clouds 88: and i was eating like
Rose Clouds 88: fucking boiled chicken while watching chinese public access channel
Rodney Bathe: my mom's leftover coldstone german chocolate
Rodney Bathe: leftover meatloaf
Rose Clouds 88: excuse me
Rose Clouds 88: you are eating everything in the world
Rodney Bathe: vegetable crackers
Rodney Bathe: WAIT IM NOT DONE
Rodney Bathe: the leftover of my aunt's santa fe salada
Rodney Bathe: i don't know how it ended up here
Rodney Bathe: and the last of the riceroni
Rose Clouds 88: thats like
Rose Clouds 88: fine once in a while
Rose Clouds 88: plus you starved yourself for like a week when that whole shit happened
Rose Clouds 88: so its fine
Rodney Bathe: OH FUCK THERE'S DRUMSTICKS IN HERE
Rodney Bathe: LIKE THE ICE CRAEM KIND
Rodney Bathe: OH FUCK
Rodney Bathe: FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK
Rodney Bathe: OHFUCK OH FUCK
Rodney Bathe: I have to get in on THAT
Rodney Bathe: and they have FUGDE in the center
Rodney Bathe: FUCK
Rodney Bathe: and STEMS
Rodney Bathe: now i just need some peppers
Rose Clouds 88: hahaha
Rose Clouds 88: are you in the mood for some noodles
Rodney Bathe: YES!!!!!!!!!
Rose Clouds 88: CAUSE THEY COME WITH THE FUCKING PEPPERS
Rodney Bathe: I seriously needs to have my hole pried open and just drainedc
Rose Clouds 88: which hole?
Rodney Bathe: i haven't been laid since like the beginning of 07
Rodney Bathe: OMG
Rodney Bathe: OMG OMG OMG
Rodney Bathe: RICECAKES
Rodney Bathe: FUCK
Rose Clouds 88: WHOA
Rodney Bathe: THEY'RE THE CARMEL KIDN
Rose Clouds 88: HOLD YOUR HORSES
Rodney Bathe: THIS IS UNBELIEVABLE
Rodney Bathe: FUCK.
Rodney Bathe: FUCK
Rose Clouds 88: you're going to get mad indigestion
Rodney Bathe: I FORGOT TO TAKE MT STEROIDS
Rose Clouds 88: yeah i see that
Rodney Bathe: no like i forgot to take them hardcore
Rodney Bathe: + they gave me decaf
Rose Clouds 88: how many days did you go without taking your steroids
Rodney Bathe: fuck
Rodney Bathe: going to drink to much i induce my period
Rodney Bathe: lke 73
Rose Clouds 88: Whoa.
Rose Clouds 88: That's grave.
Rose Clouds 88: it's TERMINAL
Rodney Bathe: TERMINAL CHOICE FLOWEERZZ OMGG
Rodney Bathe: ROZZ WILLIAMS
Rodney Bathe: U ARE MY LIFE
Rodney Bathe: + ALEXANDER FROM SAMSAS TRAUM AND CHROS POHL IS NOTA REAL VAMPURE
Rodney Bathe: but i drink blad
Rodney Bathe: so FUCK you
Rodney Bathe: fuck fuck fuck
Rodney Bathe: my head
Rose Clouds 88: honey you should go to beddies
Rodney Bathe: i'd take aspirin but i incorporated it into the yams for a bitter taste cuase theyre too sweet
Rodney Bathe: no way jose sanchez
Rose Clouds 88: hahaha
Rodney Bathe: im pullin an allnighter
Rose Clouds 88: to make them more sinister
Rodney Bathe: cant ucking TYPE fuck
Rodney Bathe: yeah hahahah
Rodney Bathe: far more sinister
Rose Clouds 88: WTF IS WRONG WITH YOU
Rose Clouds 88: :-*:-*TESTING 1 3
Rose Clouds 88: TESTING 1 2 3
Rose Clouds 88: FUCK
Rodney Bathe: just talking like a total asshole.,
Rose Clouds 88: FUCK YEAH!
Rodney Bathe: like not even boterhing to correct my typing
Rodney Bathe: Makes me look far more told u i was hardcore
Rose Clouds 88: that's the ticket
Rose Clouds 88: i love to just get drunk and be a fuckign dickhead and fucking RIDE PEOPLE AROUND LIKE HORSES
Rose Clouds 88: I do that to all my friends
Rodney Bathe: hahahaha
Rose Clouds 88: whether they like it or not
Rose Clouds 88: but most of them like it
Rodney Bathe: MAD GOING TO WAKE UP IN A BARN
Rose Clouds 88: hahaha
Rose Clouds 88: youre going to be a ponygirl tomorrow
Rodney Bathe: with blood all over the hay/my cunt
Rodney Bathe: OMG that reminds me
Rodney Bathe: what does a gay horse say
Rodney Bathe: HAAAAAAAAAAAAAY
Rodney Bathe: i mean
Rodney Bathe: what does
Rodney Bathe: fuck
Rodney Bathe: a faggot
Rodney Bathe: horse
Rodney Bathe: eat
Rodney Bathe: EAT
Rodney Bathe: he EATS hay
Rodney Bathe: but i suppose
Rodney Bathe: says it as well
Rodney Bathe: fuck
Rodney Bathe: i failed
Rose Clouds 88: imagine getting so drunk that you wake up in a stable as a fucking horse person
Rodney Bathe: :-(
Rose Clouds 88: with a bit in your mouth
Rodney Bathe: i am a ponygirl
Rose Clouds 88: a saddle
Rose Clouds 88: and blinders
Rose Clouds 88: fucking decorative hooves
Rodney Bathe: i'm wearing a ballgag right now
Rose Clouds 88: nipple piercings
Rodney Bathe: yeah
Rose Clouds 88: HOW ARE YOU EATING THEN
Rodney Bathe: i'm wearing a ballgag, nippel clamps, anal beadz, and a vibrating hat
Rodney Bathe: the hat really isn't for venereal purposes
Rodney Bathe: simply a hat that vibrates
Rose Clouds 88: oh nice
Rodney Bathe: it's quite jovial
Rose Clouds 88: i'm wearing red/black striped arm warmers
Rodney Bathe: hahahah
Rose Clouds 88: and bondage pants
Rodney Bathe: are you wearing a KORN patch
Rodney Bathe: on your forehead
Rose Clouds 88: yes
Rose Clouds 88: YES
Rodney Bathe: OMG
Rose Clouds 88: FUCK
Rose Clouds 88: YES
Rodney Bathe: i forgot about my corn
Rodney Bathe: FUCK
Rodney Bathe: FUCK
Rose Clouds 88: omg i found a picture of us together
Rose Clouds 88: http://viceland.com/int/dos_donts/208/main.jpg?44
vladverzeni: Lol, who is Rose Clouds 88?
( And here are some really sickening and obnoxious closeups of me since half of you don't know what I look like, and probably don't care. ) |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Sep. 23rd, 2007|06:46 pm] |
| [ | Gutfuck |
| | kettenrauchen | ] |
| [ | Skullfuck |
| | ain soph- honorii ponteficis evocatio | ] |
A portrait of me. Drawn by Alexandra Koroleva. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Sep. 6th, 2007|12:16 pm] |
| [ | Skullfuck |
| | Needle Sharing- Kick Start | ] |
This is my cat, Smithers.
 |
|
|
| Brothelrot. |
[Aug. 31st, 2007|09:47 am] |
| [ | Gutfuck |
| | tropfdicht, braunäugig | ] |
| [ | Skullfuck |
| | Rozz Williams & Gitane Demone- Flowers | ] |
My realizations are insufferable because I realize along with them that I've realized them long ago. Nothing to offer or gain at this point, at any point, from point a to point c - but a lot of neurons hormones fixation and indigestion. 'on the way'. I'm not one to wake up and think or even hope my sweat is just an illusion, though. I drag myself into other people's messes because my own are too much to handle. This creates a rotten comfort in me, I can no longer feign a general interest in other lives - for it leads me on as much as it does them. With knots that are tied in resignation and bows to show a mitigating sign of advancement, or perhaps indeed regression, both seem to start running together- my hope withers as subtlely and thoroughly as my fear of losing it does/has. It's like anyone who dreams of permanence is just as hopeless as anyone who dreams of life. I can shed off too many illusions at once, but it's the convictions that I use as reins to storm through equal iconoclasts' castles and set ablaze every trophy, every dream in sight that do it all for destruction. Tricking rivals into thinking we are brethren, or perhaps vice versa, tricking patients into thinking we are equals. I can stand to feel at fault if I need to (though mea culpa doesn't always mean a harbinger of rectification- and never signifies reversal) but I refuse to taste anyone else's tears, shoulder anyone else's brunt for the sake of mitigation. I'll take whatever castigation I need. Continue to alienate and behave like it doesn't hurt me. It fucking stings. But I'm doing right in stepping out of my fear of losing affection and remembering what I am (not) here on this Earth for. I don't produce a multitude of attractions or distractions, just to delierately beguile those who seek to be led like dogs. Honestly. I don't do any of it deliberately. That would be one you would call a Romantic. I am not a Romantic, only a human, and that seems to cut you deeper than any razor ever could. Can't you understand that this life will only mean something to me if I do it alone? I'll break for hedonism once more, saying 'fuck you' to any attachment theory I leave unsettled. It's good to learn, but better to challenge than cower. Your ship sank long ago, I never had a ship to begin with. Maybe uprooting this, you, is the precursor to one. While that's sad to know, as your veneration for me did all to sink your own - just know that, be this of any consolation to you, which I know it will be - my storm is never-ending. And there's a god below who wants me. We could reunite. It'd be romantic. But that vein is dead. I think I'll say No this time. Keep my spine in front of my heart. This is what being human is. This is all it takes. Back and a half. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Aug. 29th, 2007|11:38 am] |
| [ | Skullfuck |
| | Fennesz- Caecilia | ] |
This is my new computer chair. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Aug. 13th, 2007|08:56 am] |
| [ | Skullfuck |
| | Irikarah- Against Moscow | ] |
Date: Mon, 13 Aug 2007 11:34:11 +0100 (GMT+01:00)
From: "Dr Ali Ahemd" <ali_ahemd4@virgilio.it>
Subject: TREAT AS URGENT/REPLY IMMEDIATELY
From the Desk of Dr. Ali Ahemd
Manager Bill and Exchange Dept
African Development Bank (ADB)
Ouagadougou Burkina Faso.
Dear
Friend,
I know that this mail will come to you as a surprise. I
am the bill and Exchange manager in African Development Bank .I Hope
that you will not expose or betray this trust and confident that
i
am about to Repose on you for the mutual benefit of our both
families.
I need your urgent assistance in transferring the sum of
$15.6 million Immediately to your account. The money has been
dormant for years in our Bank here without any body coming for it.
I want to release the money to you as the nearest person to our
deceased customer(the owner Of the account) who died a long with his
supposed next of kin in an air Crash since July 2000.
I don't
want the money to go into our Bank treasury as an abandoned fund.
So
this is the reason why i contacted you, so that the bank can release
the money to you as the nearest person to the deceased customer.
Please i will like you to keep this proposal as a top secret and
delete if you are not interested.
Upon receipt of your reply, I
will send you full details on how the Business will be executed and
also note that you will have 40% of the Above mentioned sum if you
agree to transact the business with me.
Dr. Ali Ahemd
African
Development Bank,
Burkina Faso West Africa.
Tel 78 78 24 13
Mad going to 'cooperate' on this. Any fucked ideas?
( Edit: ) |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jul. 30th, 2007|11:54 am] |
Is that life, then. Accumulation then loss. Repetition for the brave. |
|
|
| Most incisive song ever. |
[Jul. 27th, 2007|09:19 am] |
Oh, y'all motherfuckers thought it was over, huh?
Well, it's not. You didn't count on the fallen angel
getting back into the graces of God and coming after
you. Y'all niggaz ain't shit. Your producers ain't
shit, your fucking A&R ain't shit, I fucking wipe my
ass with your demo deal
Yo, Diabolic, TAKE THIS MOTHERFUCKERS HEAD OFF!
Go ahead and grip glocks, I'll snap ya trigger finger in 6 spots
You'll have to liplock with hypodermic needles to lick shots
I watch you topple flat, put away ya rings and holla back
Can't freestyle? You screwed off the top like bottle caps
Beneath the surface, I'm overheating your receiving circuits
By unleashing deeper verses than preists speak in churches
But your preach is worthless, your worship defeats the purpose
Like President Bush taking bullets for the Secret Service
Beyond what y'all fathom, shit on cats and jaw tap 'em
Show no "cum-passion" like havin a strait-faced orgasm
Tour jack him, have his half-a-ten bitch suck my friends dick
In the mean time, you can French kiss this clenched fist
Diabolic, a one-man brigade spreading Cancer Plague
Fist-fucking a pussy's face holding a hand grenade
So if I catch you bluffing, faggot, you less than nothing
I just had to get this stress off my chest like breast reductions
You motherfuckers are nothing, you cannot harm me
I'll ressurect every aborted baby and start an army
Storm the planet, hunting you down, 'cause I'm on a mission
To split your body into a billion one-celled organisms
Immortal Technique will destroy your religion, you stupid bitch
You faker than blue eyed crackers nailed to a crucifix
I'm 'bout to blow up like NASA Challenger computer chips
Arsenic language transmitted revolutionarily
I'm like time itself, I'ma kill you inevitably
Chemically bomb you, fuck using a chrome piece
I'm Illmatic, you won't make it home like Gerome's niece
I'll sever your head diagonally for thinking of dissing me
And then use your dead body to write my name in calligraphy
This puppet democracy, just brainwashed psychology
So you're nothing like diversity without equality
And your crew is full of more faggots than Greek mythology
Using numerology to count the people I sent to Heaven
Produces more digits than 22 divided by 7
You like Kevin Spacey, your style is usually suspect
You never killed a cop, you not a motherfucking thug yet
Your mind is empty and spacious
Like the part of the brain that appreciates culture in racists
Face it, you're too basic, you not going to make it
Like children walking through Antartica, butt naked |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jul. 25th, 2007|10:12 pm] |
| [ | Skullfuck |
| | Architect- St.Vodka (Hecq Reconstruction) | ] |
Pardon me for coming between your sportive prattling, but do any of you guys have any fucking idea what atrocities our soldiers are facing in this war? Maybe it's time you fucking educated yourselves.
Recommend the absention of clicking this link if you are weak of stomach, faint of heart. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jul. 18th, 2007|09:48 pm] |
Wonderful. Since NO ONE FUCKING TOLD ME that teriyaki sauce needs to be refrigerated, I am going to be shitting up a storm tonight. Starting now.
See you all in the blue blazes. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jul. 12th, 2007|01:35 pm] |
| [ | Skullfuck |
| | Wu Tang- Gravel Pit | ] |
One of our dogs got into a Tostitos bag and suffocated to death last night. What a fucking moron. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jul. 4th, 2007|02:49 pm] |
|
For the past couple of days, my body has been having frequent spurts of tingling, I've ignored them, and today it's been tingling all day long. Right now it's rather intense, in my face in particular, is extremely uncomfortable, and not going away. I haven't been smoking as much lately and I know that tingling sometimes happens when you quit - blood vessels opening up and taking in more oxygen, and a general improvement of blood circulation. But I had a couple cigarettes just to see, and the tingling has gotten worse. This is very, very uncomfortable and it seems to be taking an effect on my mood. Right now I'm feeling like I'm coming down off something. It's not really 'painful', but it's so discomforting to the point where I could cry. I did some research on paresthesia and I can't seem to identify with any of the listed causes. I don't think it's dehydration either; I've been drinking plenty of water. If anyone knows what may be causing this or has any ideas on how to get rid of it, please let me know. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jul. 1st, 2007|10:32 am] |
| [ | Skullfuck |
| | Nobdrun- Forward Antenna | ] |
Ich glaube das ist das was man einen König nennt.
( sea creatures. ) |
|
|
| θύμα |
[Jun. 28th, 2007|02:46 pm] |
Tell me what it is to be crippled man with his own world of affairs, vast and heterogeneous- who leaves the stench of his sickly sermon behind for the next self-righteous iconoclast to inhale and wilt from.
Now I know what it feels like to play bifold and engage in the theft of your own dignified repose. Not destruction, because that’s easy and obsolete. But turning a shoulder every time you’re standing at the lustful, magnetic fingertips of a lover, carving ‘I’ into your skin so you can prove you’re not swearing this by anyone else. Making sure your words are misunderstood, your movements fugitive – this is seduction. This is rape. This is manual theft of the soul, greed of the mind. Refusing to rest your head on the fresh wounds because of the electricity dripping down your skull. More sacred than your own de[scent]. One-stop transport to failure, glut of keepsakes on the way. A heart of interest, a rooter of mammonism. The ordinary grows lucent. The crowd of givers wanes. A wake inside of me. A filigree of charming vines of confusion branching out thorn-adorned coils, overlapping each other, permeating my body and filling numbed cavities with fancy pantheons- this leaves me laden with some false sense of responsibility, screaming under and fighting back my own abductions. Something fixed – nonhallucinated.
Being birthed didn’t do this to me, for I fell no shorter of screaming to go back in the womb than envying the infant in the adjacent room who didn’t last. No. I embrace the solid fact that I will only breathe and last alone, regardless of whatever shameless larks I come to bask in sporadically. Paying cheap interest to humanity in ways that undermine my own objective, triggering the worship of my submersion into obscurity. The acrid percussion of disillusionment. Make it last. Promises that grow old, wear off on people. This is what happens when you elect a leader born breathless. I can feel the reverberations in advance; it’s when I step out of the cage into the bloody brothel of my own small version of mankind that I start pining for the roots of my being, feigning intrigue so that I not dismay, gripping thoughtlessly onto sweat that drops in torrents and yet leaves no trace. Absolutely no trace. Ever. The unavenged agent of thought-loss, and the outrage that loomed over the set of its misrepresentation- I took proud claim of this betrayal to my own soul, but not to the underfed bellies of the others. Give way to polished excuses and collapse- this should be all I accept of myself in frame of them, right? It’s not what I spend my time rolling and shifting. But the carelessness is. The dying meaning I clawed my way into, found no exit and curled up, re-wombed, biting and shaking. This comforts me.
Imprisonment isn’t romantic, and neither trying to paint a picture of freedom to sell. But to be free of this? Of them? It’s almost too much to ask for. Finding trails of withered hope in heavy eyes makes me grimace, though I know the sight is not mine to grimace at – or even take into cognition. It is their own, now. I have done my part. Maybe I haven’t done anything at all. I acquiesce. Resignation? Go ahead, take it. Take the chance you wait like a vulture for and tell me that I’m a coward. Show me up. I witness the letting go each and every time- do nothing to stop it- yet still refuse to wear a warning sign on my sleeve. It’s gone and I’m moving on. Also comforting to know that this is never a harbinger to any sort of awakening or improvement of any sort. If so, it would fall upon deaf ears and eyes. A skull with a log through its temples. There’s maybe one person in the entire world who understands me on this. Others to keep in mind, time and loneliness shore up the smoke of names to dream of when I’m not buried in a toilet – or underneath the ground.
My darling in Hollywood , the only name of them I could possibly fucking care to remember, alongside remembering things that I shouldn’t. Still feeling remorse, who knows. Wishing I could hear her laugh again, let her embrace me just once more. I hear her call to me even when I know she is away. Hear this song and that song and think of her smile. Couldn't ask her to do the same for me, though. Seemed to only meet with her in intervals between consciousness. So it goes. Still, hers was the only genuine fucking smile I’ve ever encountered in my life. Too much to forget, yet hardly enough to remember. My dear in the Sahel, wondering how his arms are carrying him, inked in what he’s doing – I sigh in assurance he is safe, because I’ve felt nothing yet, and can only bear to miss him so much longer. Smile when I hear from others that he's doing well. Time goes by just a little bit faster when I think of him writing, or sleeping, kicking the sand. But never when he’s thinking of me. Although at times I feel I need to know it- we both do- I hate to be a distraction amidst anyone’s time of enrichment. He deserves this more than ever. My mistress above, our contact is slowly throwing, but my thoughts of her are not. Wonder what’s keeping her busy, wonder if she wonders of me. Missing her dignified bearing of love admixed with keenness that I’ve not seen in anyone else.
Another, [god kill me. fuck it.] whom I worked rather attentively for, could raise a tentative smile on my face knowing that he is perhaps not even alive anymore. I never took him in rightfully. Only saw him, with full conscience of this, as everything he tried to convince me he was not. He let go, though- ran to another kingdom of drugs and fear, left me a message I didn’t bother to listen to. Left me a man whose gutless world I had to maneuver into via mutual suffering [mild vexation] and specious trust. Oh, Goodbye, little boy, whose only motto should be nothing more challenging than ‘Hurts so good’. I can only hope that when his open wounds are exposed to cold air, he doesn’t take it as a gift from me or any other example-maker. Kind of like venom, hissing between cracked lips. My mind of him contracts in the light – would it not give so many pleasure to see crumble at the seams, or at least so many within our broken bed of dirty thoughts and shallow influences. Dull aches and vengeful passions. Sworn off in temperament. Our memories manifested through shadows – part of a wilderness that rains down artillery each time it feels foot. Was bound to fail. Feeding leads to habituation. This park is full of poachers.
Don’t even fucking care to predict what’ll become of it. Or diagnose what already has. Not to make a memory of it. Just to make a disappearance. Departing in a black veil doesn’t employ reason, departing in an explosive-rigged vest does. Easy to yield yourself to temptation when the consequence is already in the past. Adjudging my disinclination to setting my clocks or even changing my fucking diapers as the manifestation of the blistering disease of reality that lies within me. Rotten and hollow, grave and dull. I can only hope those who follow me would surrender themselves sooner than they would allow me to discourage them to. Break away and break down. Run back to insecurity, reach for the nearest text to smear your insides with. It’s thoughtful to live this way. Thoughtful and abject. For those who have to fucking pant every time they key up some crying conclusion, the rupture of the heart makes peace with the gravity of their shoulders. And always having to go back and look up the definition of ‘irony’. Make a black market of fool’s poetry. This coming from a girl who when little wrote a book called ‘The Achromatous Rainbow’.
No need to stipulate a price to all this. |
|
|
| navigation |
| [ |
viewing |
| |
most recent entries |
] |
| [ |
go |
| |
earlier |
] |
| |
|
|
