(no subject)
I'm back into my old habits again.
(no subject)
I don't want to be rich,
I want to be famous.
I want to be famous.
(no subject)
There's been two people in my life that have made it stop. By it, I mean everything. They've made me see the beauty in the word, every time they've touched me - or spoke to me. And when they've kissed me; I haven't been able to kiss them back. My mouth has just gone numb, and my tongue has been completely frozen with something. Not anxiety, not fear, not even love. Just. Something. Every time I've seen them, I've automatically become myself. Before they showed up, I've planned things to do to let them realize how depressed I am. But the moment they've walked through the door, I've forgotten all those things and just been so happy. So. Fucking. Happy. I've wanted to spend my entire life with them, and I've thought about them constantly. Because, even though they weren't perfect - they have been the only two people that have made me feel alive.
Both of them have left.
And today; I remembered that.
I need some Advil. I have a headache.
Both of them have left.
And today; I remembered that.
I need some Advil. I have a headache.
(no subject)
My dreams are too big for this small town.
Maine isn't my place to be.
The entire world is screaming my name.
And I'm going to go to it.
<3.
I'm graduating this year.
And I'm moving to New York City.
Maine isn't my place to be.
The entire world is screaming my name.
And I'm going to go to it.
<3.
I'm graduating this year.
And I'm moving to New York City.
(no subject)
Sometimes I wonder why I'm still in school.
Human Anatomy 101.
A lifetime supply of knowledge informing me of the team work my body uses in order to exist my being. Make me alive.
Sitting in the back of the class, trying to copy the rotation of the foreign symbols on the board. The visions unfocused. Cross out and try again. Cross out and try again.
This is Human Anatomy 101, my knowledge, my being.
My existence. I'm a lost cause in space, I can't tell a road from my own living room. Or why your eyes stretch and bound around your body - rotating in sequence across the classroom, forming units, intervals. Chain reactions.
The rest of the class is pro when it comes to mass and matter. Your the mass. Giving, progressing in a straight forward direction - and they're the matter. Clinging to your progression, shoplifting your sources of life. Your light - that they crowd around. They know the negatives and positives, your own universal truth inside your creativity. Your compounds. They're elements.
Racing around, trying to figure out the landmarks in this geometry universe. My freshman science class. My own geographical globe, a map of my own pros and cons. So, I dress myself, and have myself a tea party before I wake up in the morning. Sucking down the gin, and fucking myself naked before I grab my weekly uniform. Consisting of what I think I should wear in order to seem pricey to anyone looking at me. Reverse Distributive Property.
My psychology.
What keeps me going. My own source of life.
Flipping around, my hair a black disaster -
Invaded with snakes and bugs that crawl
Thick and fat along side my dead cells,
Eating away at their prize. Their masterpiece.
Human Anatomy 101.
My kidneys and my liver join together, stuffing themselves inside of one another. Because even though they're enemies - neither one of them wants to be alone. I search for my large intestines, that lurk around suffocating my gallbladder - making my fucking esophagus fueled up and leak into my trachea. Like a German soldier puking at his stand, like a fucking mother fucking drunk bitch taking a piss.
Poor drunk bitches, who miss they're daddy's.
Confusing insanity and difference with art. Drunk saggy chins, pants that can't fit over blown up fucking crotches. Like a circus act, a mother fucking sculpture competition.
Ending with my fucking genius, my schoolbook.
My.
Human Anatomy 101.
Human Anatomy 101.
A lifetime supply of knowledge informing me of the team work my body uses in order to exist my being. Make me alive.
Sitting in the back of the class, trying to copy the rotation of the foreign symbols on the board. The visions unfocused. Cross out and try again. Cross out and try again.
This is Human Anatomy 101, my knowledge, my being.
My existence. I'm a lost cause in space, I can't tell a road from my own living room. Or why your eyes stretch and bound around your body - rotating in sequence across the classroom, forming units, intervals. Chain reactions.
The rest of the class is pro when it comes to mass and matter. Your the mass. Giving, progressing in a straight forward direction - and they're the matter. Clinging to your progression, shoplifting your sources of life. Your light - that they crowd around. They know the negatives and positives, your own universal truth inside your creativity. Your compounds. They're elements.
Racing around, trying to figure out the landmarks in this geometry universe. My freshman science class. My own geographical globe, a map of my own pros and cons. So, I dress myself, and have myself a tea party before I wake up in the morning. Sucking down the gin, and fucking myself naked before I grab my weekly uniform. Consisting of what I think I should wear in order to seem pricey to anyone looking at me. Reverse Distributive Property.
My psychology.
What keeps me going. My own source of life.
Flipping around, my hair a black disaster -
Invaded with snakes and bugs that crawl
Thick and fat along side my dead cells,
Eating away at their prize. Their masterpiece.
Human Anatomy 101.
My kidneys and my liver join together, stuffing themselves inside of one another. Because even though they're enemies - neither one of them wants to be alone. I search for my large intestines, that lurk around suffocating my gallbladder - making my fucking esophagus fueled up and leak into my trachea. Like a German soldier puking at his stand, like a fucking mother fucking drunk bitch taking a piss.
Poor drunk bitches, who miss they're daddy's.
Confusing insanity and difference with art. Drunk saggy chins, pants that can't fit over blown up fucking crotches. Like a circus act, a mother fucking sculpture competition.
Ending with my fucking genius, my schoolbook.
My.
Human Anatomy 101.
My life.
This is how I feel right now.
Well the future's got me worried
Such awful thoughts
My head's a carousel of pictures
The spinning never stops
I just want someone to walk in front
And I'll follow the leader
Like when I fell under the weight
Of a schoolboy crush
Started carrying her books
And doing lots of drugs
I almost forgot who I was
But I came to my senses
Now I'm trying to be assertive
I'm making plans
Going to rise to the occasion, yeah
Meet all their demands
But all I do is just lay in bed
And hide under the covers
Yeah, I know I should be brave
But I'm just too afraid of all this change
And it's too hard to focus
Through all this doubt
I keep making these to-do lists
But nothing gets crossed out
Working on the record seems pointless now
When the world ends, who's gonna hear it?
But I'm trying to take some comfort
In written words
Yeah, Tim, I heard your album
And it's better than good
When we get off tour I think we should
Hang and black out together
Because I been feeling sentimental
For days gone by
All the summers singing, drinking, my friend
Wasting our time
Remember all the songs and the way we smiled
In those basements made of music
But now I've got to crawl to get anywhere at all
I'm not as strong as I thought
So when I'm lost in a crowd
I hope that you'll pick me out
How I long to be found
The grass grew high, I laid down
Now I'm waiting for a hand
To lift me up, help me stand
I've been laying so low
Don't want to lay here no more
Don't want to lay here no more
Don't want to lay here no more
Don't want to lay here no more
Everything that happens
Is supposed to be
And it's all predetermined
Can't change your destiny
Guess I'll just keep moving
Someday maybe I'll get to where I'm going
Well the future's got me worried
Such awful thoughts
My head's a carousel of pictures
The spinning never stops
I just want someone to walk in front
And I'll follow the leader
Like when I fell under the weight
Of a schoolboy crush
Started carrying her books
And doing lots of drugs
I almost forgot who I was
But I came to my senses
Now I'm trying to be assertive
I'm making plans
Going to rise to the occasion, yeah
Meet all their demands
But all I do is just lay in bed
And hide under the covers
Yeah, I know I should be brave
But I'm just too afraid of all this change
And it's too hard to focus
Through all this doubt
I keep making these to-do lists
But nothing gets crossed out
Working on the record seems pointless now
When the world ends, who's gonna hear it?
But I'm trying to take some comfort
In written words
Yeah, Tim, I heard your album
And it's better than good
When we get off tour I think we should
Hang and black out together
Because I been feeling sentimental
For days gone by
All the summers singing, drinking, my friend
Wasting our time
Remember all the songs and the way we smiled
In those basements made of music
But now I've got to crawl to get anywhere at all
I'm not as strong as I thought
So when I'm lost in a crowd
I hope that you'll pick me out
How I long to be found
The grass grew high, I laid down
Now I'm waiting for a hand
To lift me up, help me stand
I've been laying so low
Don't want to lay here no more
Don't want to lay here no more
Don't want to lay here no more
Don't want to lay here no more
Everything that happens
Is supposed to be
And it's all predetermined
Can't change your destiny
Guess I'll just keep moving
Someday maybe I'll get to where I'm going
(no subject)
I feel so fucking alive.
(no subject)
Mom, why are your eyes always so wild?
While the dog barks in my haunted room.
With the cold icy mantelpiece in the middle of August.
My mouth clamped shut, my teeth grinding together -
While I walk around in sync with the heavy beat
Of my Grim Reaper.
My best friend.
The only person who's been there with me since I was a child.
Making me searching the house in a panic,
Screaming. Afraid. Alone.
Losing my memory, focusing on nothing.
But my own mind.
Because it's the only thing that's real anymore.
And wheres my puppet playhouse?
My carnival castle, and Barbie car.
Where the fuck are my dandelion necklaces,
That I can soak in around my neck -
Leaving a permanent tattoo that I won't have to get when I'm 24
And I'm a drug addict
In a rat infested apartment complex
In the middle of a city too fucking small
With five fucking kids that hate me
And a husband who likes to fuck the redhead downstairs.
Whatever happened to primary school?
Whatever happened to beauty? And life?
While the dog barks in my haunted room.
With the cold icy mantelpiece in the middle of August.
My mouth clamped shut, my teeth grinding together -
While I walk around in sync with the heavy beat
Of my Grim Reaper.
My best friend.
The only person who's been there with me since I was a child.
Making me searching the house in a panic,
Screaming. Afraid. Alone.
Losing my memory, focusing on nothing.
But my own mind.
Because it's the only thing that's real anymore.
And wheres my puppet playhouse?
My carnival castle, and Barbie car.
Where the fuck are my dandelion necklaces,
That I can soak in around my neck -
Leaving a permanent tattoo that I won't have to get when I'm 24
And I'm a drug addict
In a rat infested apartment complex
In the middle of a city too fucking small
With five fucking kids that hate me
And a husband who likes to fuck the redhead downstairs.
Whatever happened to primary school?
Whatever happened to beauty? And life?
(no subject)
I've tried to list all the things I fear most, and tried to figure out why.
1) Ovens.
2) Merry-go-rounds.
3) Carnivals.
4) The bottoms of lakes.
Dameon. He started the merry-go-rounds. We got married in first grade, and went to some fucked up carnival in town. While I was on the ride, lights flickering, and Dameons lips on my cheek - I started to feel dizzy. Pretty soon the entire carnival was spiriling around in circles. Lights were flashing everywhere, these bright neon carnivals lights, and I was screaming at the top of my lungs. I wasn't scared, but I started to see people that weren't there. Screaming my name, holding out their arms towards me. I told my daddy not to hurt me, and not to touch me. Now everytime I see a merry-go-round, all I can see is lights spirling, and myself burning up. My whole body feels like it's been lit on fire.
And in every way possible.
I turned out to be a merry-go-round.
A dizzy, dark, fucked up merry-go-round.
1) Ovens.
2) Merry-go-rounds.
3) Carnivals.
4) The bottoms of lakes.
Dameon. He started the merry-go-rounds. We got married in first grade, and went to some fucked up carnival in town. While I was on the ride, lights flickering, and Dameons lips on my cheek - I started to feel dizzy. Pretty soon the entire carnival was spiriling around in circles. Lights were flashing everywhere, these bright neon carnivals lights, and I was screaming at the top of my lungs. I wasn't scared, but I started to see people that weren't there. Screaming my name, holding out their arms towards me. I told my daddy not to hurt me, and not to touch me. Now everytime I see a merry-go-round, all I can see is lights spirling, and myself burning up. My whole body feels like it's been lit on fire.
And in every way possible.
I turned out to be a merry-go-round.
A dizzy, dark, fucked up merry-go-round.
(no subject)
You were an artist.
Paints and drawings. Sculptures. Beauty.
Rush, rush, rush into the wilderness.
Capture. Analyze. Become.
Reality.
This is where it started. Before your tongue was shoved down my throat, and your hand was up my shirt. Before I was starved to death in the front seat of your car, making faces at you. Laughing hysterically at things that weren't funny. Making silly eyes at each other. Racing around for hours, with no possible destination.
Before you started drinking. Thrashing around at your hardcore concerts with your friends. Finding other girlfriends. Fucking everyone under the sun. You forgot how to talk to me, and you were always crying. Crying, your eyes shut, your face angry. You acted like such a disappointment to yourself, and to everyone around you. I wonder how many other people you ever cried in front of. Screaming, swearing, shaking hysterically.
Before I was in love with you. You painting pictures on me, so fucking real I could have reached out and touched myself. While you grabbed me and picked me up, kissing me. Fighting with me about stupid things. Running around together through playgrounds, picking daises and making dandelion necklaces. Baking cookies, and playing outside in the snow. We were every season.
Before we hated each other. And we couldn't leave, because we didn't know how. And we wanted to be together constantly, but all we could do was fight. And you hit me, and I tried so fucking hard not to cry. Because that was the worst thing I could ever do, was cry in front of you.
But I did it anyways.
I fucking cried in front of you.
Paints and drawings. Sculptures. Beauty.
Rush, rush, rush into the wilderness.
Capture. Analyze. Become.
Reality.
This is where it started. Before your tongue was shoved down my throat, and your hand was up my shirt. Before I was starved to death in the front seat of your car, making faces at you. Laughing hysterically at things that weren't funny. Making silly eyes at each other. Racing around for hours, with no possible destination.
Before you started drinking. Thrashing around at your hardcore concerts with your friends. Finding other girlfriends. Fucking everyone under the sun. You forgot how to talk to me, and you were always crying. Crying, your eyes shut, your face angry. You acted like such a disappointment to yourself, and to everyone around you. I wonder how many other people you ever cried in front of. Screaming, swearing, shaking hysterically.
Before I was in love with you. You painting pictures on me, so fucking real I could have reached out and touched myself. While you grabbed me and picked me up, kissing me. Fighting with me about stupid things. Running around together through playgrounds, picking daises and making dandelion necklaces. Baking cookies, and playing outside in the snow. We were every season.
Before we hated each other. And we couldn't leave, because we didn't know how. And we wanted to be together constantly, but all we could do was fight. And you hit me, and I tried so fucking hard not to cry. Because that was the worst thing I could ever do, was cry in front of you.
But I did it anyways.
I fucking cried in front of you.