|Wednesday, January 4th, 2006|
|Wednesday, November 16th, 2005|
|Thursday, October 13th, 2005|
|hawthorne heights might possibly be the worst band i have ever fucking heard.
the decemberists and murder by death can sure tell a story. i can safely say that M.B.D is by far my best name drop in bands i can tell people i played with. theyre definatly doing something special on "who will survive and what will be left of them?". they harken of the dark nostalgic story telling of the old delta blues singers like robert jhonson and blind willy mctell. i think their new album is gonna be incredible and they might just get the recognition they deserve for doing something as different as this, especially with soo much crap out there.
|Monday, October 10th, 2005|
|regulators! mount up.
why would the gods do this to me? tons of reading to get done and AMC is playing Young Guns 1 and 2.
|Thursday, October 6th, 2005|
Sylvia Plath if I had been Ted Hughes
In those days the hospitals were chalk white
like sterile grecian columns
pillars of ill fated attempts
the best intentions in a gentle hum of orders and apologies
imagine the contrast
a bloody mess of two
i carried you through the treshold
the wife and the widdower
wrapped up in my jacket
a wrecking ball, pale and fragile
we caused quite a stir
you and i......or rather i alone
kept the hair out of your face
and your mary janes from dragging
lady lazurus crooning as if a fifties ballad
syncapated beats and all
like Jhonny Ray up and out trough the Country Belle
they called it at 4:00 p.m.
the last warm day of october
but i knew you had been dead for years
catatonic in the guest room
or wild and erotic, violently throwing your skinny body about
hush hush, howl howl
getting your living out of the way
|Tuesday, October 4th, 2005|
|a sea change in a ciggarette
William blake's poetic genius of man.
if you like ginsberg, kerouac,
bukowski, william carlos williams
or any of those beat poets that are all the rage right now
check out where it all started
an englishman in the age of sensibility of all places
|Monday, October 3rd, 2005|
the people in lubbock are about as deep as a kiddie swimming pool.
if they are a picture of americas definition of a healthy young adult
i am the definition of grim death
behold the pale horse and the student that rides upon him
for he is michael and with him comes death
|Tuesday, September 27th, 2005|
|fuck lubbock, i have the the blues
this much time to sit around and think about my life cant be good for me. school is too easy and i find myself increasingly uninterested. i spend an obscene amount of time in my room listening to music, writing, and playing guitar. im like a ghost in this apartment. the living come and go. i have places i could be, productive things of my choosing, but i dont fucking care so i opt not to do these things. everyones got a career,a goal,a picked fence and a two to four car garage looming in the future. theyve all got some one or at least someone to kiss and touch and feel human with. my girl is miles away. i dont fucking like the kids i was "supposed to love", im sure their ok but i dont want to make the effort. and like i said the others come and go. i am just like roy orbison. fuck lubbock, and fuck el paso. i need to hurry up and graduate soo i can grab megan and get the fuck out of the southwest.
|Tuesday, September 6th, 2005|
|gilligan is dead and i just dont know what to do.....XOXO megan
im a bit lonely these days...the bottles are piling up on my dresser. id miss home if there was a place for me there but id still be paddling in the same boat just a different ocean. and i think thats what really hurts. heh. you dont have to be poor to be homeless.
a pretty young widdow
stares up at the sky,
she tucked the letter
"rhapsody on a windy night"
into her left breast pocket
if she never reads it
hes still alive
perhaps in london, perhaps in prague
she's seen the clipper ships through the fog
burning mountains of coal to reunite
lovers along the hudson on cold new england nights
their lights dance on the water
as she waits with bated breath
her hands holding the daughter
will he ever see her again
but his name is never mentioned
among the living so much as the dead
its an ocean between lovers
that keeps you hester prynne
how long before that letter opener is used
and will it be paper or bone it cuts through
their lights dance on the water
as she dreams of where he is
is he dead or forgotten
the life that he has left
has he met an english rose?
the lights dance on the water
as he waits with bated breath
a ghost and a father
he dont need no clipper ship
|Wednesday, August 24th, 2005|
everyone loves a drink...but nobody loves a drunk.
|Tuesday, August 23rd, 2005|
whats up bitch?! im dead....
|Thursday, July 21st, 2005|
its different when your lonely and the bars close their doors..................... cuz gangsters do gangster shit............friends come and go.....and they are few and far between....goddamnit you must think im fucking stupid.........fuck you....this is THE END.....everyone is famous for fifteen seconds
|Sunday, July 17th, 2005|
|Saturday, April 23rd, 2005|
It was brought to my attention this morning that last night i passed out cold in the back of davids car only to wake up and hang out of the door of the speeding vehicle to throw-up, held in the car only by brian.
|Thursday, April 21st, 2005|
|sobering reminder of what a drunk i am these days....
sometimes i wish i could take back every hug, handshake, apology, and toast ive made in the last year to avoid an awkward situation, to make some sort of compromise. i should have thicker skin by now. i should learn to hold a grudge. afterall gangsters do gangster shit. why does this hit me at the oddest times only to dessert me when the sun goes down. im finally doing something i should have done two years ago. Im starting to leave this fucking town. ive got nothing left here but my brother and gabe. and i know theyll be fine.... Current Mood: through house of usher
|Friday, April 15th, 2005|
|whats your name handsome?
when im ready to die ill retreat to the 5th floor of the library and lay down between Emerson and Whitman. seems like a bit of a gamble with those two but i get this strange almost unsettling calm when i do this. my brother understands. something surreal that creeps up on you and manifests in a feeling in your stomach. in any case it passes i sleep like a baby.
|Monday, April 11th, 2005|
|Friday, April 8th, 2005|
|turning tricks for a lighter
god..im so sick of waking up feeling like shit every morning.i think i suffer from the most crippling hang overs known to modern man...but i guess sometimes its worth it to see val's 10 year old ass sticking out of a hot tub, and even better is the fact that he had to pull his jeans down to do it...well maybe its not worth it.
|Sunday, March 27th, 2005|
lets have a hand for Helium and Hydrogen. the real adam and eve of our universe.