| (no subject) |
[Jun. 11th, 2009|01:55 pm] |
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So, it appears no more Warren Iraq . sad sad day. |
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| For the lost |
[Jun. 5th, 2009|01:01 pm] |
Romero got married on the fifth of July In our Lady of Immaculate Dawn Could have got married in the revival man's tent But there ain't no reviving what's gone Slipped like a shadow from the family he made In a little white house by the woods Dropped the kids at the mission, with a rose for the virgin She knew he was gone for good
It's a long way to Heaven, it's closer to Harrisburg And that's still a long way from the place where we are And if evil exists its a pair of train tracks And the devil is a railroad car
Could have stayed somewhere but the train tracks kept going And it seems like they always left soon and the wolves that he ran with they moaned low and painful sang sad misereres to the moon
Rose at the altar withered and wilted Romero sank into a dream He didn't make Heaven, he didn't make Harrisburg He died in a hole in between Some say that man is the root of all evil Others say God's a drunkard for pain Me I believe that the Garden of Eden Was burned to make way for a train |
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| (no subject) |
[May. 4th, 2009|07:45 pm] |
Down shadowed paths walks the old man Clutching tightly at the bottle, glass shrouded by a bag torn soggy paper, holds lost dreams, hopes and thought years passed he was successful held everything, world in the palm of his hand as his bottle drained away, so did his world sips eke out, as spittle down the corner of lips
hold your junky head high, loll from side to side enjoy the disturbed looks you receive, bear your scars proudly black ooze drizzles from tracks of ones making don:t let it make you feel special, everyone gest this prize fro playing each time you throw something away, replace it with more pain
love is like a fine red wine the first sip is always the best, and the more you drink , the better it gets but wait till you wake up, and feel only an emptiness
I:m ready to die.... |
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| (no subject) |
[May. 2nd, 2009|11:04 pm] |
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grape leaves a rollin, blood in the mucus, sick as hell, fucked over by friends. Great to be in Ocean Springs |
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| (no subject) |
[Mar. 1st, 2009|03:24 pm] |
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back livin in the fair land of os, cooking and drinkin. I hope not to go to jail |
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| (no subject) |
[Nov. 26th, 2008|09:07 am] |
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got some dirnking to do when i get off work. Family dinners, not for me, just me and the whiskey, and the bottles are 10,000 strong. |
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| (no subject) |
[Nov. 17th, 2008|08:08 pm] |
I took a trip to deep dark cave , made of my creation It was a cave of hopes and dreams, a cave of imagination Three friends came along to this cave of wonder, my heart, my brain, and soul As well as these i brought two strangers, strangers young and old
I brought my brain my brain for rational thought, to keep me from slipping away If I lost sight of my hidden goal, I knew I'd never escape He thinks for me , both bad and good, holds my map in stead It is a brain of twists and turns, this brain hidden in my head
Next I tell of a stranger, young in life and years He is a stranger to the feeling of love, providing me water through tears Never ceasing to wonder, of the things that could have been Confusion runs rampant with this one, he is a mouse while others are men
The third in my party, and carrying the torch, is the one known as my soul Clear as the finest crystal, yet cracked, brittle and old bearing the torch and lighting the path, it transforms water to wine Tis the miracle of miracles, yet sadly only in my minds eye
An old stranger goes fourth, hobbles the path, crochety toothless and grey A stranger, to pleasure, a stranger to dreams, stranger to all save pain
Heart second to last, beating in tune, to the steps of the other five So full of breaks from failures, its a wonder its still alive Cut open from pain, punctured by sorrow, ripped in every concievable way Still it beats on, pumps blood through the veins, waiting and hoping in vain
I myself travel last, yet leading the pack, to the tune of a drunken sailor I call it sport, all fun and games, in a suit made by the blind tailor Deeper and deeper into the cave, we travel as our torch flickers out As the last light of hope fades from my eyes, I scurry to write my dreams down |
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| (no subject) |
[Nov. 17th, 2008|08:07 pm] |
Is the sky Orange? Out of the truck, you are fucked up alex, Spinning at 999 billion frames per milisecond, the world is mine to command, to control. We have reached the top and i am now a god. Who is the commander of the world, who is the man in the iron mask. Crab claws dont work for me, and i dont have any way out of my eyes. Crawling up and over, change camera angle, and dillute the rambling of my ears. Why cant i get out of this movie, quit rewinding me and tell them that the grass isnt on fire. None know my name or why i am not alive, how did i get in the van, and what happened next, where am i, and why did i die in the walls. Opps, im sorry, we are out of time
AHHHH
I wanna ride again |
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| Iron born Chaos |
[Nov. 17th, 2008|07:36 pm] |
| [ | Current Location |
| | chair | ] |
| [ | mood |
| | tired | ] |
| [ | music |
| | something downstairs | ] | Questions and answers both leading to nothing False ideals , forced acts nonsense, madness, humanitarian acts pick and choose, reject and repeat each glass numbs the pain just a bit more How many nights and times like this? I stopped counting when I stopped caring Learn from your mistakes, or forget them entirely Down a bottle for each fuck up The slow action poison protects us Build your immunity, a drop at a time Drink to stay warm, rekindle the cold of the heart The strongest of all poisons to taint ones being Unadulterated truth Looking at oneself can open doors into hell The things we bury, our skeletons, lie dormant for a reason Rememberance, though cathartic can cause a shattering of the psyche that one will never be properly equipped to handle. Dreams deffered, Questions not asked, aspirations never realized. These are the stock and trade of the dead and the dying The hand held above by all of us , and to rise above all this clear the road ahead, keeping ones eyes on the prize and eventually finding peace Nothing more than a bedtime story told to children to help them sleep nights A joke, a farce, a game like poker, but without ever even getting a high card. Play the game, even if for nothing more than fun. Play the game , a quest for nothing more than to lose Grab the dice and toss them till you crap out
Points deep within, cleanser at the cost of self Drink deeply your sorrow, smile as you finish the glass Call for another round, another taste, piercing skin and spirit alike Euphoria traded for life |
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| The subterraneans |
[Nov. 17th, 2008|06:29 pm] |
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And now you threw away a little womans love because you wanted another drink with a rowdy friend from another side of your insanity. |
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| Oubliette |
[Nov. 17th, 2008|06:18 pm] |
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Storming the gates of heaven and dropping ecstasy with the angels, we use whatever means to get by. When you open the door and wander into the other world for the first time, life begins anew. All that you thought you knew or understood washes away and the truth falls into sight, a sight beyond sight. Imagine that all that makes up the solid ground you walk upon every day simply caves way and leaves a vast cesspool of black matter, the primordial ooze that forms itself before your very eyes, continually tearing itself asunder and rebuilding, adjusting to your whims , fears, wants, desires. Drugs are not the only way to find the land of truth, the room behind the magic mirror. When you can truly accept that the world is of your own making, and things can be built and burned to please, than you can freely wander. It is a dangerous trek and always exists the possibility of being trapped. Locking yourself in a world of your creation is the ultimate oubliette. Blot out the sun and be trapped in darkness forever. |
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| (no subject) |
[Nov. 15th, 2008|03:08 pm] |
Last night you had a few that led up to more, but oh well... As it touched your lips, she was washed away She didnt stay gone though, so you just drank more After a few more, you can't feel her, but she appears in the haze Gotta kill that thought too, so call for the wine She of all people brings it to the table, pop the cork, sip away. When that bottle is gone, just call for another, keep racing to beat the day The more you drink and try to hide, the more you find .. only the taste It only happens at night, like honey,but only slightly sweet Taste of the past, taste of your loss, taste of her and the wine One shot leads to three, than up to the room, clothes tossed away on the floor May as well enjoy, even though you wont remember in the dawn It doesnt matter anyway, the poison kills your lingering doubts She looks to you pleadingly, and you know your pain will be gone Legs wrapped tight, clenched, pulling you inside Bodies sing in a chorus of consensual catharsis The night rides on as she rides you, but it doesn't mean anything You thirst for a drink, and she obliges, giving you something sweet The taste is well known, same as the wine When you can fight no more, unconciousness takes you away The light kisses you softly, rising you back to the land of the living She looks at you now, kisses lips with a smile Who is this girl? Where do you lie? Do you even know her name? Bodies coated in sweat, sticky , clinging, the smell of sex coats your bodies It was certainly loveley, pure raw escape, a closed to hide in But will it feel the same when the haze lifts away? What about when all you have left is the taste? The taste of her and the wine. |
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| Writer's Block: When the Boss is Away… |
[Nov. 12th, 2008|05:21 pm] |
Find interesting shit to cook, combine new ideas and techniques. I am limited in the product i have to work with , so it makes it fun. If I make something decent, i usually offer it to the staff. |
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| (no subject) |
[Nov. 10th, 2008|06:26 pm] |
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Dogs fucked the pope, no fault of mine.. |
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| (no subject) |
[Oct. 14th, 2008|08:15 pm] |
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goin to the shrink on thursday at 8 am, then i have to work a double, i cant wait |
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