tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-77184103075714236222024-02-19T06:57:34.773-08:00infected vegetablesAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01438410470699233102noreply@blogger.comBlogger340125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7718410307571423622.post-65692045216774680032017-10-30T18:26:00.001-07:002017-10-30T18:26:11.695-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe width="320" height="266" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/8ktNROdhxRY/0.jpg" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/8ktNROdhxRY?feature=player_embedded" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01438410470699233102noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7718410307571423622.post-38425796439068425642017-10-17T00:23:00.006-07:002017-10-17T00:34:17.174-07:0010/17/17<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWxqnZCqgx6JPwUr4d8V0-DZoosnJmnTekY0Sb_cyNlv3GHU-50Jq-k8_7yI_S7toGhGWLNtpCGOLNdaz0VJku8xIBoY410Boe3UsdUOV3WXa2yx1ss0WHR4ZfhKqGwLmtLd5C-hbVpC8/s1600/1223301.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="477" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWxqnZCqgx6JPwUr4d8V0-DZoosnJmnTekY0Sb_cyNlv3GHU-50Jq-k8_7yI_S7toGhGWLNtpCGOLNdaz0VJku8xIBoY410Boe3UsdUOV3WXa2yx1ss0WHR4ZfhKqGwLmtLd5C-hbVpC8/s320/1223301.jpg" width="218" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
a head like a smashed in jack-o-lantern<br />
base filled with melted wax<br />
cranial walls blackened.<br />
the facade collapsing<br />
in on itself like the core<br />
of a dying star—<br />
rot and old age<br />
showing.<br />
mouth<br />
kicked in.<br />
eyes<br />
insect eaten.<br />
scalp missing.<br />
what was once<br />
an attractive<br />
orange face<br />
eminating<br />
a warm inviting<br />
glow<br />
now:<br />
shriveled,<br />
deformed,<br />
unwanted.<br />
just ugly.<br />
organic,<br />
not plastic,<br />
and always<br />
afraid<br />
of mornings.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01438410470699233102noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7718410307571423622.post-39365405515744095452017-10-09T21:09:00.002-07:002017-10-09T21:21:12.380-07:00a power outage in dallasit's okay.<br />
<br />
in the dark<br />
i still check my phone<br />
for a missed call<br />
or a new message.<br />
check my computer for<br />
a new email<br />
as you talk to new friends<br />
in person;<br />
i talk to my silhouette<br />
on my bedroom wall.<br />
<br />
your friends are<br />
a lot cooler than me.<br />
<br />
it's okay.<br />
<br />
some nights you<br />
make out<br />
with probably some cuties<br />
while i sensually french kiss<br />
the palm of my hand<br />
with my eyes closed<br />
and in the morning,<br />
each of us might<br />
regret this.<br />
<br />
it's okay.<br />
i'm okay.<br />
i think.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01438410470699233102noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7718410307571423622.post-15961634104326501722017-10-05T22:11:00.000-07:002017-10-05T22:11:37.202-07:00i got a 14 year old pregnanther mom watched a lot of daytime tv,<br />
which is why she decided to forgo 911<br />
and straight to the talk show studio.<br />
she cries in her chair, while her mother<br />
answers the authoritative host's very<br />
personal questions about our relationships<br />
origins, who i am, and what i do and dont with<br />
my spare time in a not so nice tone,<br />
passionate but uninformed.<br />
and the audience is like, "wow!"<br />
and im backstage getting my make-up<br />
touched up staring at the monitors,<br />
listening to this and seeing the title,<br />
<i>i got a 14 year old pregnant </i><br />
saying, "what the...huh?"<br />
while being prodded toward the<br />
main stage entrance<br />
by hands and heads wrapped<br />
in headsets<br />
being reassured that<br />
ill be okay as i wonder<br />
if i will be okay.<br />
if i have any downers left<br />
in the hotel room.<br />
coming out to a chorus<br />
of boos thinking,<br />
"you have to be kidding me guys,<br />
oh man."<br />
i dont really remember what happened<br />
before the reveal, the results,<br />
the climax and resulting falling action,<br />
just that no matter what i said<br />
no matter how true or untrue it was<br />
i was just met by razor sharp words and<br />
insults hidden in reactionary questions.<br />
i was all entertainment and we all had<br />
our part to play, we all had to do that<br />
dance like good little sluts<br />
except we just did it because of exposure<br />
or in my case circumstance.<br />
so i just sat there after a couple of minutes<br />
scratching the fake wood on the armrest<br />
of the chair with a worn down fingernail<br />
not really paying attention to what i was saying<br />
just saying things when im supposed to<br />
for the sake of saying something.<br />
because that was what they wanted.<br />
but i knew i really didnt<br />
have to do anything<br />
just sit and wait<br />
because<br />
god sent me here to rock<br />
them and you,<br />
and in a couple minutes ill make<br />
it hot, and in a few minutes even hotter.<br />
it's up to them to<br />
figure out whether or not im<br />
good or bad<br />
because ill never know.<br />
when the results are read,<br />
she is not pregnant,<br />
but i am.<br />
two years ago we met through an internet forum.<br />
he wanted to be a teenage girl,<br />
and i wanted to be an older teenage boy.<br />
so we switched places,<br />
which wasn't hard because<br />
with a little make-up<br />
and hair dye he passed<br />
as a 12 year old she.<br />
he passed as me or who i used to be.<br />
my mom never paid enough attention<br />
to notice.<br />
the producers with shocked<br />
faces asked for close ups<br />
of all faces involved<br />
and audience reactions,<br />
speaking into their microphones,<br />
"where else will the story go?"<br />
but in my mind the story had already reached its<br />
conclusion: the topic was ass to begin with.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01438410470699233102noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7718410307571423622.post-62473999314358793572017-09-29T01:12:00.001-07:002017-09-29T04:44:06.705-07:00i'm sorry for asking but please come take me home<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://i.pinimg.com/564x/b3/80/d5/b380d5a75751fe238a1a7da7e0fd295a--wolves-fighting-red-wolves.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="408" data-original-width="564" height="231" src="https://i.pinimg.com/564x/b3/80/d5/b380d5a75751fe238a1a7da7e0fd295a--wolves-fighting-red-wolves.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
i channel my inner television monologue<br />
staring into the bathroom mirror in the dark<br />
at 2 am on a practice run for spending<br />
the rest of the night with my eyes open.<br />
eating a bowl of pinecones patiently<br />
waiting for the forests of christmas trees<br />
to grow and bloom inside<br />
until they are consumed<br />
by an electrical fire.<br />
just a bottom feeder<br />
on the lower end<br />
of the food chain<br />
scraping by.<br />
just creeped out<br />
because i can't<br />
feel my hair.<br />
i don't think<br />
i'll ever<br />
figure out<br />
what happened<br />
to this place.<br />
i don't think<br />
i'll ever<br />
get over<br />
it.<br />
waking up<br />
not being able<br />
to fall back asleep<br />
is just wasted potential:<br />
everybody needs friends,<br />
but i've never been able<br />
to stand up straight.<br />
i think i like you a lot<br />
only cause i'm so good<br />
at hurting myself.<br />
so lock all the locks,<br />
take all the keys,<br />
and keep yourself clean,<br />
cause i'm alone again<br />
and i don't like the things<br />
i see.<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01438410470699233102noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7718410307571423622.post-60726120363496851102017-09-28T01:42:00.000-07:002017-09-28T01:46:12.195-07:00severed skulls swapping vomit<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://media.moddb.com/images/groups/1/1/84/Garden_of_words_-_image_-_e.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://media.moddb.com/images/groups/1/1/84/Garden_of_words_-_image_-_e.jpg" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
when i woke up this morning i felt cheated that the kitten i was dreaming about didn't follow me.<br />
wasn't there lying next to me in bed.<br />
i couldn't fall back asleep.<br />
just stayed up watching videos online all day about people playing soccer video games, fast food reviews, wrestling, and pranks without any actual interest in the subjects.<br />
just passing time.<br />
wasting the day next to a phone that stopped ringing years ago.<br />
whatever.<br />
light even turns to dark with the blinds down:<br />
bluish grey to black,<br />
the colors and their duration are the only difference.<br />
i read emails from a correspondence a couple years ago with a girl from north carolina, and another with a girl from ohio.<br />
was embarrassed.<br />
not because of the content, or how those relationships played out.<br />
was embarrassed because i shouldn't have said anything.<br />
shouldn't have gotten involved.<br />
should've stayed silent.<br />
other people are scary,<br />
and the person i'm scared of the most<br />
is myself.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01438410470699233102noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7718410307571423622.post-32328816258482695702017-08-31T23:00:00.000-07:002017-09-08T17:10:23.908-07:00aborted my great grandmother with a gasoline douche and random office supplies just so i would never exist.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/8/8f/Hypnodorm.jpg/220px-Hypnodorm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="381" data-original-width="220" height="320" src="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/8/8f/Hypnodorm.jpg/220px-Hypnodorm.jpg" width="184" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: yellow; font-size: x-large;">😻</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: yellow; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: yellow; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">my goal in life</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">is to be put into a coma</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">for the rest of my life span</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">so i could start over</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">because i</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">can escape</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">everyday</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">without</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">having nervous</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">breakdowns.</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">and in my dreams</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">i go over to a illiterate obese</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">girl's house</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">who offers me</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">twinkies and cherry cola</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">and wants to</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">fuck.</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">richard simmons</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">is on the tv</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">talking about</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">the secret to </span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"perfect buns"</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">as she pulls</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">her panties</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">down</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">and picks up</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">a chainsaw.</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">her pussy smells bad</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">which makes me vomit</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">on her collection of </span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">childhood dolls</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">and teddy bears.</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">so she saws off </span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">my left hand</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">and</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">claims my right eye</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">from its socket</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">as recompense,</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">making us even,</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">before i walk out the door.</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">i make it to the train tracks</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">and get drunk</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">under the highway</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">alone in the dark.</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">i haven't eaten in</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">three days but </span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">nothing </span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">really</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">matters</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">anymore.</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">i smash a couple empty</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">bottles against the concrete</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">wall</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">guilty for fucking</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">up the earth</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">a little worst</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">than it already was.</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">i lay across the tracks</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">with my legs</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">spread open</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">like some</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">unconscious</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">16 year old girl</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">about to get stripped naked</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">and</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">raped</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">in an unknown bedroom</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">at a party</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">by some dumb fuck jock</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">who's a senior</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">and is going to get away</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">with it</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">because he's the star running back</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">on the football team.</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">as the twelve approaches</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">with two large stones </span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">on my chest</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">and a lit cigarette</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">smoldering </span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">between my lips.</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">i wait,</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">waiting for</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">the warm sensation</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">of being cleaved in two</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">my body penetrated</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">by heavy steel.</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">but the wheels of the train</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">miss</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">and squeal past</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">in a incomprehensible</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">blur</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">on the other set of tracks next to me.</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">always the fuck up.</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">i get up</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">with the understanding</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">of my hatred towards people,</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">even the people in my head,</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">and my longing to be</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">with at least one </span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">of them.</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: yellow; font-size: x-large;">😻</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01438410470699233102noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7718410307571423622.post-74612194764096637682017-08-25T17:40:00.002-07:002017-09-08T17:06:48.368-07:00to richard vargassometimes<br />
i<br />
feel<br />
life is<br />
like<br />
an elevator<br />
you're<br />
stuck<br />
in<br />
while<br />
d r u n k<br />
and in<br />
the possession<br />
of<br />
a backpack<br />
full of weed.<br />
<br />
and instead<br />
of<br />
hitting the help button<br />
you have to<br />
kick the<br />
SHIT<br />
out of the door<br />
and have<br />
someone you know<br />
pry the doors open with<br />
a hockey stick<br />
so you can escape<br />
then<br />
a couple days later<br />
someone who lives on your floor<br />
rats on you<br />
and you and someone you know<br />
gets stuck with the<br />
bill.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01438410470699233102noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7718410307571423622.post-47763235331754430882017-07-07T18:21:00.003-07:002017-07-07T18:21:46.527-07:00love is a...<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">in the meaninglessness
of her life at 18 years old, she hoped that void would be fulfilled with
a boy or a girl and love on a computer screen.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">so she could have a
purpose: a core just like the center of the earth that kept it functioning and
supporting life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">when she was younger,
she was bullied at first for not having clothes bought from department stores
in malls that were advertised in magazines, television commercials, and music
videos. clothes are clothes, but these clothes had some particular type of
animal sewn into them like a deer, a horse, or a elephant, or had the name of
the brand strewn boldly across the shirt so everyone who passed and saw knew
where it was purchased and how much it costs, which meant something.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">she shopped at thrift
stores or got hand me downs from her older brothers, sisters or cousins, which
were noticeably faded and not brand new.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">her peers would take
photos of her without her noticing or permission, and create meme's or posts on
social media sites using those pictures of her on how one should never dress,
with titles like, "how to never attract a boy", or "2017 freak
show aka failed science experiment" or "worst dressed/ugliest
bitch/thing at soloman high march 2017." "faggot" the responses
by her fellow classmates from both female and male students did not defend her,
but supported the post or meme's message:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">"i mean can't even
try to look at that. scumbag. lol. it's not that hard try lookin in a fucking
mirror!"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">"it has nice ass
but it's all fake, and i ain't fuckin that unless there's a bag on whatever you
want to call it's head, strip it nude and drove its stanky ass through the
nearest car wash, triple wrap my dick, close my eyes, try not to puke, and get
paid a million dollars. na fuck that 200 million. haha"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">each day was hell. she
was taciturn and a recluse, and never told her parents about anything because
they had their own bullshit about: working, paying the normal bills and her
therapy, and trying to hold their marriage together in the meantime. They already
had put up with enough of her problems; they couldn't be bothered anymore. so
she started searching the internet not for fashion tips, like she used too, but
on ways on how to commit suicide. most people don't realize this section of the
internet exists, but it does, and is visited by more troubled teens and adults
than a normal person can imagine. for some it's just a cry for attention, but
for others it is a way to learn and how to teach.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">suspension hanging. drug
overdose. cutting the wrist deep into the arteries and vertically so they can't
be stitched back together. procuring a lethal dose of nembutal from the
internet. jumping off a bridge, or any tall building. a bullet to the binary.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">she studied the methods,
and the only three that were doable were hanging, cutting, or jumping since she
didn't know where to buy drugs, didn't have a credit card to order any off
line, and her parents' were against guns and hunting all together.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">each night she practiced
hanging ethernet cords from the beams in her closet, trying to cut off her
carotid artery, which stops blood flow to the brain, and will make a human
being go completely unconscious in 5-15 seconds, becoming braindead without
medical assistance in 10 minutes, and completely dead in around 20. but each
time she tried, she messed up, cutting off her jugular causing her head to
swell with blood, and a violent headache, which lasted for an hour or so after
each practice attempt—the failure pulsing along with her brain. she tried new
materials (scarfs, shoelaces, ropes, bungee cords, and even a twisted up
bedsheet) and variations on the technique, but to no avail.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">"wow, i'm such a
fuck up i can't even figure out how to kill myself properly," she muttered
to herself before she went to bed, staring up at the fading glowing stars that
hung from her ceiling thinking how she is not made for this world but is too
inept or maybe too scared to escape it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">but one day, she checked
her social media page, which she was in the midst of contemplating deleting,
and there was a message notification, and from a boy no less.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">"hey i know you
dont know me, but i came across your profile through a mutual friend pop up
notification thing on the people you may know and clicked on your profile. i
dont know if you have a boyfriend or anything, but if you dont i just wanted to
say i think you're really cute. and i was able to see some of the art you drew,
and think you are really talented. and like a lot of the bands you like. i hope
im not being a creep but msg me back if you want to talk or anything. i go to
scranton, which is a couple of school district away duh you probably know
that but okay ill be waiting. have a good night."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">she reread the message
over and over again, trying to think of some way to respond that wouldn't make
her sound stupid, desperate or like an idiot.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">his name was lucas. he
had short black hair that was kind of messy and neat all at the same time. from
his pictures he looked semi popular, and got invited to parties. there were
pictures of him holding beers, and plastic handles of bottom shelf vodka. her
favorite one was of him with his eyes closed hugging a black cat's paws around
his shoulders completely at ease.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">for the first time in
weeks, nooses, hanging off bridges, and razorblades slicing skin weren't at the
forefront of her mind, it was lucas's tawny face, lip ring, and brown eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">she responded a day
later:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">"hey sorry for the
delay. just been busy with homework and stuff. but i dont find you creepy at
all. i actually think you're really cute and sweet. thank you for the
compliments on my drawings, i mean they suck, but i'm glad you like them. i
love your lip ring. when did you get it? oh yeah, definitely send me some
bands, im always looking for some new good music. and to answer your question,
no i do not have a boyfriend, but am currently looking for one if he's the
right guy (-; if you're not busy sometime maybe we can get together. msg me
back if i didn't scare you off and you’re interested."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">the school week went by
with the same bullshit, as she sat by herself at lunch with her hoodie over her
head, headphones in, reading ned vizzini's <i>it's kind of a funny story</i>,
and <i>the oregon trail is the oregon trail </i>by gregory sherl
eating an apple and a xannie bar for lunch. ignoring the outside world, and
just thinking of what lucas was up to right now.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">he messaged her a couple
times throughout the day, the last one being a skull emoticon = high school.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">it kept her distracted,
and her mind at ease.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">she asked him if he
wanted to hang out and go see a movie this weekend or something, but lucas messaged
back saying he had to go out of town with his parent's, "you know, just
another dumb family function. sry. but send me a pic of what you look like
tonight, and we can pretend we're hanging out lol. i'll do the same. (-;"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">she was somewhat
disappointed, but hey with technology today you can still see each other and
sort of hang out, just in a digitized manner. but fuck it something is better
than nothing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">so she did her eyeliner,
green/teal eye shadow, soft pink lipstick, and rest of her make-up, slipped on
a tight black dress trying to show off the best of her features without being
too forward or slutty, and did her hair up to the best of her ability.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">after ten tries, she
finally took a pic she liked, her head to to the side, with her chestnut eyes
looking away, but still big, bright, and enticing, hair and pose as perfect and
attractive as she could be, and sent it to lucas with the caption, "wish u
were here." even though she preferred to use real words in text messages
then abbreviations because they seemed childish, but in this situation to her,
it seemed cute.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">two minutes later, she
got a response, "youre so hawt. i wish i was too," with a pic of his
straight black bangs covering his one eye, his other blue eye visible, and pale
white face in a frown.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">she felt a warm glow
inside as if someone stoked a fire, and started cooking marshmallows over the
warm red coals.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">"it's okay. you're
so handsome. dont be sad. we will see each other soon!"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">over the next couple of
days the bullying still continued, but so did the conversations and pictures
with lucas. she still had visions of a noose hanging from a tree limb, od'ing
on drugs, or a bullet passing through brain matter, but they were less frequent
cause now she also had visions of infatuation, attraction, and what could be
the kindling of love.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">as she lain in bed after
taking two xanax, she touched herself through her teal lace thong and
masturbated scrolling through the pics of lucas before passing out, falling
into her unconscious dreams and fantasies.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01438410470699233102noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7718410307571423622.post-66644925752662986272017-07-02T22:28:00.000-07:002017-07-02T22:28:01.756-07:00hospicei miss the hosiptal.<br />
my bed.<br />
the tubes<br />
sewed into my side<br />
draining blood<br />
and<br />
the sympathy<br />
they brought<br />
because when<br />
i was close<br />
to death<br />
i wasn't<br />
alone.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01438410470699233102noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7718410307571423622.post-43301245926051446492017-06-17T21:13:00.002-07:002017-06-17T21:17:00.079-07:00Father<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://pm1.narvii.com/6057/416e64b2733047d83894bd0955ff5b30c074e471_hq.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://pm1.narvii.com/6057/416e64b2733047d83894bd0955ff5b30c074e471_hq.jpg" data-original-height="393" data-original-width="682" height="184" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
I wish I could dye my hair<br />
to feel better about myself<br />
because somebody thought<br />
I looked like you,<br />
but my darkness<br />
is more complicated<br />
than that.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01438410470699233102noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7718410307571423622.post-35180094908869660332017-06-13T22:34:00.000-07:002017-06-13T22:38:41.292-07:006/14/17i cant concentrate on my mood swings,<br />
they're just something i have<br />
no control of.<br />
sitting around,<br />
in a bedroom<br />
after watching a eighteen<br />
year old sucking<br />
a hard cock,<br />
face covered in come, just<br />
feeling alone<br />
and guilty.<br />
what can i do?<br />
except put it all behind me,<br />
and absorb<br />
the chemical deficiencies<br />
until they become something beautiful<br />
that i can tolerate.<br />
an explorer splunking<br />
the depths of his own<br />
neurochemistry<br />
until he dies from<br />
the pressure.<br />
not feeling<br />
a goddamn thing.<br />
consumed by angels<br />
flying to heaven<br />
with my guts<br />
dripping fluids,<br />
locked in their jagged<br />
teeth.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01438410470699233102noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7718410307571423622.post-52230897743397994742017-06-06T22:59:00.000-07:002017-06-06T22:59:08.926-07:00the examined life is not worth living<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe width="320" height="266" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/qJ60al8xXoA/0.jpg" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/qJ60al8xXoA?feature=player_embedded" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01438410470699233102noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7718410307571423622.post-52934783938837573672017-06-04T22:11:00.000-07:002017-06-04T22:52:35.575-07:00splashing cum stains on a washcloth as i waste away in the nightwhen i studied<br />
the geography of her body,<br />
i became hopeless.<br />
i am not<br />
a cartographer;<br />
i am shit.<br />
sitting in the dark,<br />
stuck in the routine,<br />
i will tongue kiss her ring<br />
to demonstrate my<br />
dedication<br />
as a busy body<br />
coming down.<br />
trying to control<br />
her breathing.<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01438410470699233102noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7718410307571423622.post-60891707889505329702017-06-02T00:50:00.001-07:002017-06-02T01:06:27.087-07:00fuck that<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/QuenqmlnJG4/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/QuenqmlnJG4?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
<br />
"That there was no such thing as a 'drug problem' or even 'drugs'- unless anything anyone ever did or thought or felt was considered a drug and a problem" -tao linAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01438410470699233102noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7718410307571423622.post-4860480432988950462017-06-01T23:19:00.001-07:002017-06-01T23:19:14.707-07:00total abstinence <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe width="320" height="266" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/oYdMA75DAYA/0.jpg" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/oYdMA75DAYA?feature=player_embedded" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01438410470699233102noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7718410307571423622.post-56471611819991825972017-05-03T03:40:00.000-07:002017-05-03T03:40:13.547-07:00i wish i was eaten on t-rexplanet.comi whisper,<br />
"words are just words,<br />
and promises are just promises.<br />
just a sleight of the tongue<br />
and language. and the people who<br />
say they care about<br />
and love you<br />
are the ones who can least be trusted.<br />
friends.<br />
ex-lovers."<br />
as i close my eyes<br />
feeling the time pass<br />
while i can't fall asleep.<br />
always believing they<br />
are as empathetic<br />
to me as i am to them.<br />
playing the generous<br />
sympathetic shoulder<br />
to cry on, acquiescent<br />
to all her/his demands<br />
after one guilt trip,<br />
and pluck on my heart strings.<br />
i put them above yourself.<br />
deluded.<br />
i am shit.<br />
a stupid cliche.<br />
repeating the same mistakes<br />
without any reward.<br />
without feeling better.<br />
like being at a party<br />
where everyone is super fucked up,<br />
you don't know anyone,<br />
and even though you want to leave<br />
you stay cause there is<br />
nothing better to do,<br />
but if i were you i'd still be throwing up.<br />
tomorrow, if i get up, i won't be motivated<br />
to masturbate, and will probably sit in silence.<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01438410470699233102noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7718410307571423622.post-34020247182626005412017-04-16T03:25:00.001-07:002017-04-16T03:25:33.295-07:004/16/17<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://blog.londolozi.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/12/Kill.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://blog.londolozi.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/12/Kill.gif" height="253" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
in the beginning<br />
it was just<br />
a couple of mosquito bites,<br />
scraped elbows and knees,<br />
a fever, and chicken pox.<br />
<br />
now life is<br />
running<br />
from a pack<br />
of sharp teeth<br />
consisting of<br />
people,<br />
places,<br />
obligations,<br />
ideas,<br />
words,<br />
and<br />
problems.<br />
<br />
running<br />
as hard<br />
and<br />
as fast<br />
as i can<br />
until<br />
the lactic acid<br />
builds<br />
and<br />
my lungs<br />
and<br />
muscles<br />
give out<br />
to exhaustion<br />
then a set<br />
of canines<br />
sinks into<br />
my throat,<br />
followed by<br />
another<br />
and<br />
another<br />
and<br />
another<br />
and<br />
another<br />
until i<br />
lose count.<br />
<br />
tearing in.<br />
ripping<br />
chunks of flesh<br />
off my body<br />
and<br />
out of my psyche.<br />
<br />
but i continue to fight<br />
out of sheer natural instinct<br />
to survive.<br />
to continue to exist.<br />
but like every prey animal<br />
you've watched get attacked,<br />
caught, and torn apart,<br />
at some point there will<br />
be no will left<br />
due to fatal wounds,<br />
blood loss, and/or<br />
just accepting fate:<br />
giving up.<br />
<br />
the only difference<br />
between<br />
me<br />
and<br />
them<br />
is that in the end<br />
i will be disemboweling<br />
myself with my own set<br />
of teeth and maybe<br />
i have the entire time<br />
along with the others.<br />
<br />
maybe there never was any others<br />
and at some point<br />
i was the one disemboweling myself<br />
all long?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://drunkinagraveyard.files.wordpress.com/2016/03/lars_von_trier_antichrist8.png?w=470" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="170" src="https://drunkinagraveyard.files.wordpress.com/2016/03/lars_von_trier_antichrist8.png?w=470" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01438410470699233102noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7718410307571423622.post-23598574618007117212017-04-12T01:03:00.001-07:002017-04-12T01:06:53.726-07:00suicidal tendencies<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.documentingreality.com/forum/attachments/f227/475595d1376794409-real-suicide-notes-ktrk_120707_note2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://www.documentingreality.com/forum/attachments/f227/475595d1376794409-real-suicide-notes-ktrk_120707_note2.jpg" width="372" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
i carve the same words<br />
about love, loss, isolation,<br />
lack of purpose, repetition,<br />
regret, stagnation, sadness,<br />
fear, anxiety, and hurt<br />
with a sharp tongue<br />
into my thoughts<br />
and the brains of others<br />
causing uncontrollable<br />
bleeding, loss of<br />
consciousness,<br />
boredom, and finally death.<br />
<br />
i'm sorry to everyone i hurt<br />
that i care about and truly cared<br />
about me.<br />
<br />
i'm a fuck up.<br />
a burden.<br />
<br />
every chronic disease<br />
can only be prolonged<br />
by the hands of fate for<br />
so long before they tire<br />
and cramp because they've<br />
done all that they've can<br />
and what was meant to<br />
happen, happens,<br />
and no amount of luck,<br />
prayer, money, treatment,<br />
or technology can prevent<br />
my destiny, or yours.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/44/db/2d/44db2d13290ccf9a39153b650311738d.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="520" src="https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/44/db/2d/44db2d13290ccf9a39153b650311738d.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01438410470699233102noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7718410307571423622.post-26227176338341286142017-04-11T21:31:00.002-07:002017-04-11T21:31:49.838-07:00two shorts i enjoy:Black Hole:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe width="320" height="266" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/pr7KIboNiRc/0.jpg" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/pr7KIboNiRc?feature=player_embedded" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
based on the graphic novel written by charles burns that for not being a huge fan of graphic novels a high;y enjoyed reading.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/I/51qqTq5NMbL._SX349_BO1,204,203,200_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/I/51qqTq5NMbL._SX349_BO1,204,203,200_.jpg" width="225" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
and even though it's passed christmas, a junky's christmas is a funny, relative tale of what a junky day to day to struggle, hardships, and weird bullshit that happens in that desperation of being sick, and trying to get well and high, hell even on christmas or any holiday. narrated by the only beat writer i ever really enjoyed: William S. Burroughs.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /><iframe width="320" height="266" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/u6kHN92Yv48/0.jpg" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/u6kHN92Yv48?feature=player_embedded" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01438410470699233102noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7718410307571423622.post-47875398745406702102017-04-09T15:00:00.001-07:002017-04-11T15:20:12.637-07:004/9/17when you have no plans.<br />
when you have nothing to offer.<br />
when your atm always says "insufficient funds."<br />
when you are told you can't sleep here again in an empty parking lot.<br />
when you don't have a vagina or breasts to tease old perverted men with to send you money.<br />
when your plans made yesterday always fall through and all you here is silence.<br />
when you're all alone, unable to think, unable, to see the stars, unable to fall asleep trying to piece together where it went wrong. wishing you had a time machine, but knowing that would probably be useless to because you'd repeat the same mistakes.<br />
when you go to work and fantasize about hanging yourself in the bathroom, while your coworkers serenade you with popular hip hop songs written and sung by artists you don't know because you're behind the times.<br />
waiting on a response to an email where you poured your heart and soul to the only person you ever cared about so deeply outside your parents, and seeing no new messages.<br />
taking medicine to cope.<br />
<br />
tonight i hope someone tries to rob me at gunpoint, instead of coming across a nude women at a hotel grabbing my dick because i would rather be shot in the head then have an orgasm.<br />
<br />
(ps. to the people who ask me to give them free pizza when im on a delivery, please stop. this happens at least 10 times a shift. 70 times a week. 280 times a month. if i could i would, but i cant which i'm sure you already know. i laugh along with you after you say it, but in reality i wish you wou either just give me some money or leave me alone.)<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01438410470699233102noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7718410307571423622.post-58069972249367228932017-04-04T00:37:00.000-07:002017-04-04T00:37:47.739-07:004/4/17i pull my black denim jacket over my head at 6;30 in the morning in the hotel parking lot next to the professional baseball stadium in some major city, locking the doors, and hoping no one bugs me or calls the cops for the next 6-7 hours as i try to get some sleep.<br />
<br />
before going to bed, the dj on the radio talks to a caller about how the friendships you make in your childhood, these bonds, last forever. that these people will be there with you from your childhood until the day you die. and that his kids will experience these same bonds with the friends that they are growing up with now. the caller wholeheartedly agreed, and talked about how he was just the best man in his childhood best friend's wedding. they talk about it as it was fact. something everyone will experience, cherish, and never lose.<br />
<br />
reclining my driver seat back, my head full of dope, xanax, and false promises of hanging out with a "friend" today/yesterday/the day before that, their words echo off the walls of my skull keeping me awake for longer than my body expected. theses echos made me wonder what went wrong in my life, or am i just an anomaly? my childhood friends are locked forever away in memories like boxes of old teddy bears and comic books that used to mean something to me that are now stored away in boxes in my parents attic that will either be thrown away, donated to the salvation army, or sold at a garage sale in the future.<br />
<br />
if i for some reason come across a picture of them on some social media site, i realized the people who i used to be willing to lie for in front of our principal or parents so we didn't get in trouble, or even imagined taking a bullet for are now complete strangers, who still live. still exist just like i do, but i know as much about them now as the homeless person outside dunkin donuts asking me for an extra cigarette or spare change.<br />
<br />
as i start to lose consciousness, i realized all the unanswered phone calls, text messages, and emails, are just a preview of what's to come, and even though i've gone through similar experiences before, i am still never prepared or able to cope with losing someone i care about, and who i thought cared about me. maybe it's part of growing up, but if it is, that part of growing up is bullshit. and as many times as i tell myself it doesn't matter, it does. and no matter where i move, i am still unable to relate.<br />
<br />
i shut the radio off, close my eyes, and sit alone in the silence trying not to think about it.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01438410470699233102noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7718410307571423622.post-73172099993026186762017-03-31T02:16:00.001-07:002017-03-31T02:32:37.173-07:00tax return dreamin while my new coworker talks about how he used to deliver tampons, condoms, soda, and plan bi don't want love.<br />
i don't want a brain.<br />
i don't want a job.<br />
i don't want bodily fluids.<br />
<br />
i talk too much about blood and death.<br />
and when the world is spinning<br />
nothing makes sense.<br />
<br />
jumping fences with<br />
the ghosts of my friends.<br />
vomiting in storm drains<br />
with a desire to rent<br />
mortal kombat the movie,<br />
and beetle bug racing<br />
for the n64 from the video store<br />
and order a pizza on a friday night.<br />
<br />
now: life is too complicated.<br />
now: i just feel bored.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01438410470699233102noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7718410307571423622.post-25645901529814679682017-03-29T03:29:00.003-07:002017-03-29T03:30:24.695-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKUpc_Q_YeHjUS54uyqsHOTO2Z_BYG-5QDjamW8m1KnFvLqW5Mvlg_j8dedHhOHOzuu-3DG0zYinjq83403ywRXv7mdq2V-R-i5BVJb3LCMQPEiVbA_zh585mRZ7iMySJcYc_rCN1J4l8/s1600/1486503827_raw_juliaducournau_garancemarillier.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="165" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKUpc_Q_YeHjUS54uyqsHOTO2Z_BYG-5QDjamW8m1KnFvLqW5Mvlg_j8dedHhOHOzuu-3DG0zYinjq83403ywRXv7mdq2V-R-i5BVJb3LCMQPEiVbA_zh585mRZ7iMySJcYc_rCN1J4l8/s400/1486503827_raw_juliaducournau_garancemarillier.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01438410470699233102noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7718410307571423622.post-34160182539879413192017-03-24T02:42:00.003-07:002017-03-24T02:42:37.164-07:003/24/17life is war, and when you're born you join the army of humanity. of exisiting.<br />
and most of my comrades i grew up with and trained together didn't die by bullets from machine guns, bombs, dropped by planes, or artillery shells.<br />
<br />
no.<br />
<br />
most of my comrades died because they became focused on the busy tedium of existing and focusing on their lives, and in the process forgot about me, and i them.<br />
<br />
we are no longer comrades, but strangers who stopped caring for each other, and couldn't even recognize one another if we happened to pass by each other randomly on the street.<br />
<br />
<br />
but at certain moments, i remember them. i remember the times we shared, and memories we created that had an impression on me like two hands squeezing a lump of clay. i remember the foxholes we shared together in meaningless battles against rival factions, and authoritarian dictators who had us under their control. i remember, and in these moments i mourn. but there are no graves or memorials to lay flowers, or a trinket that held a special meaning between us on the concrete or marble facade. to shed a tear and reminisce getting lost in our shared nostalgia.<br />
<br />
no. there are no physical reminders of the times we shared except for maybe a photograph or home movie of us together that maybe one of our parents saved.<br />
<br />
no there is nothing for me but these moments, and they will come back spontaneously into my life at certain times, in certain places, in certain thoughts, but for now this moment will soon come to an end, and i'll move on.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01438410470699233102noreply@blogger.com0