| (no subject) |
[Dec. 8th, 2008|01:46 am] |
My Abby girl had a stroke
we had to put her down, and I feel like shit. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Nov. 21st, 2008|05:27 am] |
Really despondent recently:
No reason to pursue art
No reason to pursue school
No reason to pursue work
No reason to pursue love
Would fit very well into a cocoon
A deep hole too
Wouldn't mind a good trip or two
Mushrooms or road, either or or both.
Sewing a mask out of paper and metal wire.
Gonna be a ghost. Maybe just a fool. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jan. 22nd, 2007|02:24 pm] |
My ex-girlfriend died last night in a car wreck.
The year is starting out strangely. |
|
|
| Remember |
[Dec. 19th, 2006|08:13 pm] |
No Physical needs
As a Means to an end. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Nov. 7th, 2006|02:45 pm] |
|
It is a season of slow change, and aren't they all; a new oppinon opens lies lately. Look, and looking so, repent, for the ash on your forehead crosses out nations in each wrinkle it disturbs. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jul. 4th, 2006|05:43 am] |
I'm going to love you untill the stars come out, baby,
and then we'll cut off each imperfection and keep them in a labled jar. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jun. 11th, 2006|03:38 am] |
Lately it's been a stream of golden webbing kissing the side of my cheek as erupting from the tower I know you knew. I too, and seeing sheets of white placed accorindingly to the drift of "as we already knew to be" ; how I've wandered and having gone, been blessed with a true answer from the question I ask of your heart beating next to mine. Do I catch that rhythem, and is it true to the anguished chorus ripping me in twain? Says the man atop the tower, face molding into the shape of your father's father's wife, "truly we are inside the fifth quarter" so impossible when the stars breathe down in fits of seven and five. I alive and living next to the image of myself projected carelessly into reflecting mirrors, a subtle trace of decay with each subsequent duplicate. To name apon waking, and to adore before the guise of sleep punishes slowly the fragmented wondering of my complextion, I name your name at each, and still the call goes unanswered.
Ah, to forget and to remember, moreover the selfishness of my own plea for understanding and connection than ever a true being in motion. Perhaps I've steeped too far atop the cliff's jagged monument, peering over at shadows crossing underfoot. |
|
|
| Proppaganda is not my "anti-drug" |
[Mar. 21st, 2006|02:32 pm] |
|
I wish instead of blatantly spreading fear that the government would be more intune to let people decide for themselves what is best. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Mar. 18th, 2006|03:51 am] |
Fox and Hound (401 Guadalupe St) (18+)
fatcat records, pawtracks, bubblecore and motormouthmedia.com
Mum DJ Set 7:45 p.m. Reykjavik ICELAND DJ
First Nation 8:35 p.m. New York NY Pop
Storsveit Nix Noltes 9:25 p.m. Reykjavik ICELAND World
Ariel Pink 10:15 p.m. Los Angeles CA Pop
The Mutts 11:00 p.m. Brighton UK Rock
Tom Brosseau 11:50 p.m. Los Angeles CA Singer-Songwriter
Animal Collective 12:40 a.m. Baltimore NY Avant/Experimental
I shook Ariel Pink's hand, and also the man from Mum
I can hear things more clearly, even with the ringing in my ears. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Feb. 22nd, 2006|03:11 pm] |
|
Exscuse me while I lick this dog, and no, not in celebration. Enjoy this irony; your angelic hopes composed of melodies give way to only further your new depression. What is this beast that comes round back again only to chew the center of my ribcage, that fleshy pink middle beating? I've escaped, and you are but ashes I left after we all knew what burnt to the ground. But then why do I come again to this solemn regret? This unabashed need for self reflection and ultimately dispair? I, finding new health through medicinal aide come again to instability. I'm scared now that finding the answer is impossible, that this desperation and misballance will always be the broken sill on which I lean apon to watch your hair gently blowing just beyond my window. I am making stupid mistakes constantly, and to tell you honestly, I am sick of making these mistakes. I can not find happiness, not with you, not with anyone else, not with myself. I hate this fucking disease, and I hate that you passed it to me. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jan. 20th, 2006|12:36 am] |
Winters finally starting.
I want to rip these veins from my arms.
I really shouldn't of rekindled this old flame.
I was so close to absolutely not caring about how she fucked up her life.
Explain to me why this makes me want to destroy myself.
I don't understand. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jan. 14th, 2006|07:40 am] |
I might just go ahead and have a heart attack.
Ariel Pink, Animal Collective, Destroyer, Asobi Seksu, Best Fwends, Black Dice, The Brian Jonestown Massacre , Echo & The Bunnymen , Golden Arm Trio , Helmet, Ted Leo/Pharmacists , The New Pornographers , Roger Sisters, The Starlight Mints and so many others. This will be a fine year indeed.
I will knock heads to get in to see these, watch out door men, fuck your age policies! |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Dec. 27th, 2005|08:38 pm] |
Ahhhhh ok, top ten albums I purchased during 2005 that I think came out this year.
no particular order.
Animal Collective- Feels
Ariel Pink- Worn Copy
Bobby Conn- Live volume one
Destroyer- Notorious Lightning
Attic Ted- Hemogoblin
Black Dice- The New album
The Invincible Czars- Nutcracker (actually christmas last year)
Akron / Family- Self titled
Sufjan Stevens- Illinois
Edan- Beauty and the Beat |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Dec. 19th, 2005|03:52 am] |
|
Passing out small peices of glass, that mirror I used to hang up above your headboard broken, reflecting every soft smile you trusted me with. Caught now in my toe, the bottle blue sliver of the last glass shard you threw into the ocean the first time you saw it, worn on the waves and sand, years past it's first gentle kiss, still sharp though long forgotten. I am bleeding small crystals of promises I made to myself in a glorious deep dark red and polishing the hardwood floors of an abandoned house with each and every lie I should of never believed in. I am no martyr, but I say more for my youth every day that I live it than any death could say for a revoloution. The games we play, you and I, serve more purpose than abstract truths, than any educated guess. I am trying hard to wake up, I am trying hard to wake up, I am trying hard to wake up. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Dec. 11th, 2005|07:58 pm] |
|
It all came back to how much you really mean. And even as the electric purple skulls raced in spirals of green and dark dark violent blue, Conner Oberest reminded me to remember you. Cartoon figures, of two children on a beach, waiting for a sunrise. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Dec. 6th, 2005|02:25 am] |
|
I need to make something of it before it passes and I begin to lie to myself and say It never happened. I need to reassess my situation and derive available choices. I need to stop believeing. I overreact and wrongly devote. I am a fool for playing my games, and a fool for counting heads. Something is wrong with me, a flaw, a malfunction. And then I feel like I've been lied to. It's rediculous, and I'm entirely sorry. I'm sick. I want to regurgitate and be through with it. Nathan Stine you over react. Stop signing your letters. |
|
|
| navigation |
| [ |
viewing |
| |
most recent entries |
] |
| [ |
go |
| |
earlier |
] |
| |
|
|
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
too_mouse's journal
