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Writer's Block: “We built this city on rock and roll”

mitelimkopuyor
“We built this city on rock and roll”
What are your favorite song lyrics, and why?
Reply 298


"I am doll parts
Bad skin
Doll heart
It stands
For knife
For the rest
Of my life
Yeah, they really want you
They really want you
They really do
Yeah, they really want you
They really want you
But I do, too
I want to be the girl with the most cake
He only loves those things because he loves to see them break
I'm fake, it's so real
I am beyond fake
And someday you will ache like I ache"

"Tell me who's your boogie man
That's who I will be
You don't have to like me for who I am
I'll see what you're made of by what you make of me."

These lyrics always help me through when my depression becomes horrid. Like today.
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Why Does The Sun Shine If I Hate The Bright?

I hate how I feel so invisible to everyone, they talk bad about me even when I am there. The atmosphere thickens, and my organs shiver. My bones lose their marrow, and I fight to keep my tear ducts closed. I feel so restless. I want to do something, but I can't. It's garbage, this world. Why do humans have to be like this? The feared creatures of the stone forests. Past love doesn't seem to matter, you lock that away in storage units, and leave that helpless soul and heart in the cold.

Well, screw you all, all the apathetic bodies.
  • Current Location
    Imploded Within My Own Self
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A Faint List On Decomposing Paper

I guess when boredom strikes, 
The mind adventures within itself
Mine did
And this list was created.


I guess these are things that I want you to know about me.


ONE: I am a very soft-spoken person. But when I sing in my band, everyone can hear me, for when I perform 
all my emotions spill, and my voice is strong.
TWO: I listen to everything from Beethoven to Slayer. 
Except the new main-stream rubbish.
I never did like mainstream music. So I guess count that out.
THREE: I may disagree with opinions,
But I never say it's wrong.
FOUR: I hate food. It hurts my stomach, and lets just say that sometimes I get hardly any sleep.
FIVE: Going to concerts is my passion. I love watching bands perform.
SIX: I am really sensitive. Sometimes it bugs me that I am so sensitive.
SEVEN: Although I love performing, I absolutely hate being known around town.
"Fans" love the musician for their music and performance,
Not the real person. They don't know the real person.
EIGHT: The safest place for me is the closet of my bedroom.
NINE: What I like to do is write poems/lyrics, read good literature, watch intense movies.
TEN: I have to have intelligent conversations with people. I cannot stand having stupid "like, ohmygawd"
conversations. I die when I'm around those kinds of people.
ELEVEN: I love correcting posers. I love the fact that I am one of the only real punks in this town.
TWELVE: I love yelling "what are you staring at?!" at people.
THIRTEEN: I collect posters of kick ass bands, dolls, heart-shaped boxes and tins, flowers, tea cups, and things to do with the human body. Like The Invisible Man, Gummy Heart!, and pictures of fetuses.
FOURTEEN: I escape into the rhythm of my typewriter.
FIFTEEN: I love who I am, but I hate who I am.
SIXTEEN: Vaudeville clowns and freak shows are an obsession of mine. So are post-mortem pictures.
SEVENTEEN: I look at people from the inside, not the outside. If I don't like what I discover, that person is no longer in my life. That is why I have only a few real friends.
EIGHTEEN: I would like to meet Courtney Love, Ani DiFranco, Quentin Tarantino, and Krist Novoselic
NINETEEN: I have been obsessed with Nirvana/Kurt Cobain for a long time for personal reasons.
TWENTY: I really like cardigans. That's another thing I collect!
TWENTY ONE: Some days I dress totally vaudeville clown( multiple layers of patterned colorful clothes),
Some days I am total street punk
And some days I don't dress like anything particular (which ends up to be like Kurt Cobain by coincidence)
TWENTY TWO: My favorite songs are-
The Rake's Song by Decemberists
Kiss Of by Violent Femmes
Doll Parts by Hole
Violet by Hole
The whole In Utero album
Pretty Vacant by Sex Pistols
EMI by Sex Pistols




I rambled on, but that's because I have no one to talk to. I apologize.


  • Current Music
    Whatever swirls into your brain
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I Got A New Complaint...

I'm shedding tears over a material item that I desperately want. It is so expensive,and I doubt I will get it. I want it more than a car, a permit, a new bike, a soft case for my accordion, my guitar getting fixed. Anything! I will slave away just so I can get this item! But doubt is seeping through my skin, all the way to my marrow. I just wish I could have the courage to speak up and ask for it. Make a deal. I am such an infant as of this moment.
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Betrayal Of My Own Blood

I was at the beach in a beautiful house with my family. And they did nothing but lightly insult me, to the point where I had to lock myself in the bathroom and cry quietly. The stress from their vague hatred made my stomach pains even worse, and at night I was forcefully losing my insides hours at a time. This was supposed to be fun, but it was not. I regret ever agreeing to attend this absurd event. It hurt me inside out. The beauty of the white sand and salt water didn't phase me, I was too out of myself from my emotional pain. I know I sound like a complaining infant, but you're not me. You don't know my mindset. You don't know who I really am. Nobody does, not even the fans of my music. It pains me when people do this. This is why I don't speak unless I'm performing. This is why I avert my eyes. This is why I want to travel far. Away from this place. Away from the betrayal of my own blood. Away from the crass words.
  • Current Music
    Screams trapped in your own self
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In Rhythm Of Time

 The thoughts of the known souls
Tear me apart more
I sew my lips shut
To make sure I am not heard
I breath in rhythm of time
So I do not lose track of myself
I cannot ponder your thoughts anymore
Let me unleash the demons inside
Lit by dim lights that hide my flaws
I observe how the world responds
To the words that leak through my threads
I only wonder how people would react
If I followed through with my death
 
  • Current Music
    A wall of noise
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Each Breath You Take

 Run like hell
Away from it,
That monster that tortures you,
Through the naked, dying trees
Through the crisp winter air
That is chilling you all the way through
Past faded, forgotten memories
Gliding under light rain drops
Each breath you take
Murders you some
As you run away from it,
That thing that tortures you
 
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Carcass Full Of Empathy

All she is to herself
Is a pile of hallow bones
Flesh rotted off slowly
A once carcass filled with empathy
Eyes layered in facades
Scars placed by herself
Too tender from fear
Tear ducts like dams
A uterus full of blood and flowers
A mind filled with darkness
Twisted and contorted
Popping all bubbles of hope
 
  • Current Music
    The darkest of the mind.
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