crows_eatdoves

Mon, 21 Dec 2009 03:22:48 GMT

i had a dream you came home.
but i wouldn't talk to you.
and the paparazzi came because you dad died.
and i yelled at you for eating your sisters cereal.
because you were trying to steal her bedroom.
and you said "i'll see you at 7a.m."
and i was excited but i didn't let it show.
because i'll never stop getting excited.
i need to stop getting excited.

Sun, 20 Dec 2009 01:57:01 GMT

it's okay... right, mum?
right?

right?

Thu, 17 Dec 2009 03:35:03 GMT

my bad vocabulary is good for nothing. my lack of musical concept. i'm tone def. i can't write music. i'm sick to my stomache. i listen to shitty music. i can't do a push up. i'm ugly. i should wash my hair more. i cant breathe. i'm addicted to cigarettes among other things. i suffer from insomnia. i'm pissed off all the time. i snap. i have anger issues. i argue everything. i don't cry. i eat too much. i don't spend time with my friends. i'm fake. i don't even like my friends. i don't want to go to school. i don't want to wake up. i don't want to do my homework. i think about shit. shit, shit, shit. i contemplate suicide. i create more problems. i need an outlet. i need something to stop me. i need fresh air. i don't want fresh air. i'm going to fail my math regents. i don't care. i'm drowning. i don't read anymore. i dream alot. i dream about guns. i dream about cigarettes. i dream about old friends, and wake up nauseous. i'm alone. i'm cold. i can never get warm. i spend my money. i don't have a job. everyone thinks i'm a huge pothead. i'm crazy. i think i suffer from borderline personality disorder. in the pastweek i've been called ignorant, and asshole, and jon franey. i hate that. i hate that these people who call me that think i'm friends with them. i hate when people call me a bitch cause thats their slang. that's ignorant. i hate me. i hate you. i hate this world. goodnight.

Thu, 10 Dec 2009 02:01:12 GMT

sink
sink
sink
sink
sink
sink
sink
sinking
sinking
sinking
sinking
sinking
sinking
sinking
sunk
sunk
sunk
sunk
sunk
sunk
sunk

Sun, 22 Nov 2009 21:46:00 GMT

i need to start making lists. they seem like a good way to organize thoughts.

Sun, 15 Nov 2009 15:30:36 GMT

i regret not buying the new moon soundtrack yesterday.

Fri, 13 Nov 2009 03:14:14 GMT

every night i enjoy orions company.
he is the most interesting thing in my life.
man has cluttered the sky too much, if only i could get a better look.
turn off the cities, extract the satellites from the sky,
let me see for christs sake.

Thu, 12 Nov 2009 01:42:13 GMT

your fingers forgot
the routine
the 7 digit pattern
across the plastic
across the distance
across the river

stay on your side of the river
please

Wed, 11 Nov 2009 02:49:26 GMT

i'm about to go get drunk. satisfaction perhaps?

i hope........

Mon, 09 Nov 2009 21:58:10 GMT

taking it easy for awhile.

Sun, 08 Nov 2009 23:23:39 GMT

everything is just so fake and meaningless right now. that's all.

Sat, 07 Nov 2009 14:38:45 GMT

that instant karma always comes too late.

no control

Sat, 31 Oct 2009 02:42:49 GMT

no thought.
no out put.
no noise
from that vocal box,
that is shoved
way down
your throat.

just absorbtion.
just an intake
of beauty
or even the horrid.

just let
the wind blow
--don't let it stop.
don't stop it.

Thu, 08 Oct 2009 01:57:31 GMT

i don't know where i want to go to college.
i don't know what i want to major in.
i don't know, man.

Tue, 29 Sep 2009 23:23:12 GMT

do you want to know what i am?
i am a great big ball of matter. i'm just a bunch of shit floating around, colliding. each collision sparks a thought that i let run my life, a path i follow with a flashlight. i have found that i am the cowardly lion, the scare crow, and the tin man; lacking a dorothy to guide me down the yellow brick road. i'm as lonely as ever, turning to literature and the occasional vinyl to calm me down. to the naked eye i am neutral, but add a nice new pair of spectacles, with a golden frame and thick lenses, and i am the assasination of the archduke. to most i am the sum of rational thought and bright ideas, to myself i am a mess of spontanious action, misdirected by madness and paranoia; a sense of disturbia that has me hiding beneathe the covers while the monsters prey upon me from under the bed. i suffer from insomnia, and possibly borderline personality disorder. i am turned on by the very thought of the cosmos, and our peculiar small size compared to everything else; i am turned off when i claim myself as part of the most advanced species on the planet.

Thu, 03 Sep 2009 03:24:37 GMT

i'm in the middle of reading a book called Under The Banner of Heaven. it's basically about mormon fundamentalists. i keep reading about rape, and abuse, and girls that can be their own step-grandmother based on their family tree. i can't help but wonder why the religion is based upon obedience. is it so they control their followers? all i know, is that i could never have enough faith in something, that hurt me so much. other than love, that is.

Fri, 28 Aug 2009 02:02:45 GMT

you know that thing that happens when you stand up to quickly, and you can't see or even feel your body, but you keep walking so nobody knows it's happening to you? so you keep walking, and you can see a little bit by now, but there a huge black splotches in your sight. and you walk but can't feel your legs, and you don't know where they're taking you.
you don't care.
in that moment your not real.
my brother was walking out the door, and as he said "see ya",
i said,
"i can't see you because i've stood up too quickly"
he replied, "stop smoking, and that'll stop happening"
"i kind of like it" i said.
that's what it is.
i like it when the world stops.
thats why i go out and shoot a basketball by myself sometimes. i have no love for the sport, despite years of playing, up until 8th grade. i like the fact that i can go outside, and the worst thought that enters my head is, "does that guy running past my house think i'm a bad basketball player?"
i don't have to think about the things that normally enter my head. it's like my mind has been exiled. i don't think about things that make me sad, or being lonely. i don't think "what if" about anything. i don't think about what i'm doing tomarrow, or if the person i have a crush on is thinking about me. all i think about is the hoop. i think about the amount of arch i'm putting in my shot.
the craziest part about this, is that basketball isn't my "thing".
art & music are.
but behind each song, each peice i create, is me.
i am no longer being exiled. i am there 110%.
i don't like that.
it makes me sad. i think about all of the pain, i obsess over it. i obsess over each person i'm trying to impress. i over analyse each word a friend has said to me, trying to find a meaning, until i have created a false perception of everything. because i am an art kid, and each and every part of every day has meaning. every line, in a book, each riff in a song, the static before it plays, the uneasy vocals, the extra paint on the canvas, it all means something. it wouldn't be what it is with out it. it's just millions, and millions, of varibles, and without just one, your whole world could be changed instantly. turned upside down.
i hate math.
all of these variables make me dizzy. the thought is mind boggling. i can't add them up. i cannot subtract them. it is beyond my realm of understanding. it's too much. i can't compute it all. it's like a million knives being thrown at my head. i breakdown. i can't understand anything because there is too much there. it's too complicated.
even if it isn't, even if it is the most simple thing in the world, such as a paperclip, i would wonder who designed it. why they did. how it changed they're life. and now everytime i think of paper clips, i think of the man who in vented them and maybe each time i unravel a paper clip, i unravel part of his life. i wish i could stop unravelling him.
it's like i'm a fly stuck in a million spider webs.
i cannot find my way out.
i'm tangled in a mess of a world.
i make everything into something it isn't.
i'm tangled in my head, my thoughts, my life.
if only it made some sense.

THERE'S SOMETHINGS YOU CAN'T FAKE

Sat, 22 Aug 2009 05:59:33 GMT

you can't believe that he's really gone,
and all thats left is a fucking song.

Thu, 20 Aug 2009 00:24:46 GMT

Wed, 19 Aug 2009 21:26:42 GMT

i need to leave this place.

kapishe?

Mon, 17 Aug 2009 22:15:21 GMT

i think i have an eatting disorder.
fuck the media.

tomarrow, tomarrow.

Tue, 11 Aug 2009 20:14:54 GMT

so i have a hit of acid sitting in my room.
and i wish it were tomarrow already, so then i could take it and go see marshall tucker at the inner harbor, and watch a meteor shower afterwards.

i mean come on, that sounds like a swell plan...
i'm really not that excited about it because the last two times i dropped hits, i didn't trip, well barely.

:)

Tue, 11 Aug 2009 01:01:50 GMT

i'd break all my bones if it ment she'd be operating on me.

mmmmmmm.

Mon, 10 Aug 2009 22:13:25 GMT

i have $113 dollars in my pocket and i'm going to go blow it on drugs.
three cheers for being young, stupid, and a burnout.

Sun, 09 Aug 2009 21:27:08 GMT

6 months later, and i'm still waiting for someone new,
someone anixous, to rid this heavy head of you.

i'll probably never put this in a song, but i like it.