February 2012
51 posts
Pseudo- sex hair, whilst licking peanut butter right off the spoon. I’m so gross it’s whtvz~
i'm
riding with my top back, my bitch drunk, i’m smoking weed. i don’t know if they for real, but she got double d’s.
” This great evil— where’s it come from? How’d it steal into the world? What seed, what root did it grow from? Who’s doing this? Who’s killing us? Robbing us of life and light— Mocking us with the sight of what we mighta known? Does our ruin benefit the earth? Does it help the grass to grow or the sun to shine? Is this darkness in you, too? ...
too many thoughts
for all the links in my brain, much less one of them, much less to make words or sense out of them written down. Even poorly so.
i am dehydrated. i feel small.
Seriously questioning my worth sometimes; like when I think of how seemingly useless and chaotic and feeble out lives are anyways. Amazing and beautiful, yes. but is it in that cute, pathetic type of way? In the way that you laugh when...
something borrowed
(this is my interpretation/bits/excerpts I liked from a Leonard Cohen book of 3 stories. Beautiful Losers.)
Stepping from his lofty throne, stretching his equally tall arms to the sky, almost high enough to reach Saturn’s rings. Close enough to him. Inhaling nothing but protons. Seeing only residual ashes from the warm peculiar season come, one he had never felt, He let out an scowl that...
Sculptures made from books, so rad. →
Expanding
in great profusion, our paths will collect.
We have created a delightful asteroid, our own planet. Let it all in. The words you soon speak won’t singe your soft tongue.
The moments you’ll soon have won’t leave you motion-sick. All will be soothing caresses of life’s warmth, while wrapped in a cocoon of Renaissance.
I squint
painfully trying to make out your expression’s meaning.. Are you enjoying yourself? Are my proclamations are off-putting as your aloof smirk? Discontent wouldn’t describe what I am receiving.
An overwhelming sense of pride and monarchy only alludes to my assumptions of who you might represent to me, and I to you. Although you make my stomach churn, my bones ache, my breathing...
This empty inertia
We were interchangeable parts in the American machine. We didn’t belong anywhere in particular anymore.
“she never thought of her awful luck as being anything but accidents in a very busy place.”
— the mind I was given daydreamed the story you see here.
it is about desolated cities and spiritual cannibalism and incest and lonliness and lovelessness and death and so on....
sadsoulsociety:
Chris got blamed for it
mary just wanted to get more beer
I DON’T RECALL THIS, ALEX.
I am
a rock bottom riser, and I owe it all to you.