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this makes me happy [12 Mar 2005|09:48pm]

In an odd sort of way, today is my favorite day in a long time.. [25 Jan 2005|07:24pm] i think it's because i remember the experiences of today in feelings and thought patterns over what physically took place. late for school again but i've pretty much accepted that i will never be on time for anything. my bastard mind .... always fucking talking, even when i'm talking, inverted itself into a mutation of handy anti-social skills and climbing out of my head onto other planets*. today i listened attentively to my mind's arrogant thought-thought-thought process, and got off to being able to think. and then fuck thinking about thinking, creating situations, scenerios in my head, pulling out figures from my subconcious and disrespectfully disregarding who i'm with because i like to live in my head. i like to live in my head. evasion through writing and sleep, comfort in reading. livejournal is a silly fucking excuse. which is why this is my last post!! GOODBYE

liquid fingers [22 Jan 2005|01:25am] [ mood | thought process ] I green, green wings of the berry bird born with seven bones deformed ceases rotation of it's swollen neck (in order to) burst its brains in compulsive defect picking at the stimulated seed so deep far in the winter ripened soil tears spit sweat . sex drug breath . contact surrender control.. god doesn't understand me, he delves vulnerability out of me in spurratic eqations the abusive father of scientists. the side case to the ultimate experiment novels and poetry about astrological star signs and compatibility point their dicks in narrowed analysis fatalistically deformed into angelicritique self drawn awareness arms suck smoke from my throat and wrap my teeth around the fingernail's dirt ditch containing the remainder of hospitalized skin cells and heels above my head females like me get off to his rawNasty smells as if i should feel guilty for knowing how to arouse my body or even feel guilty for enjoying someone who's learning how to please me properly. so slow: the slowness of slow slowed in hard thrusting joint strained knuckles and tight palms unarm me. disassemble me and my puerile pieces of ankles chins and wrists. all is over, all is over at the 20 minute to midnight kiss. And by the way: what does insect sex smell like? pathetically swimming in the beige flood of evening butterflies performing the hunt- and-seize ritual, beautiful nocturnal air bugs smoking exfoliated lines of light drawn to the warmth of my cunt moaning ejaculation in visual gas molecules of fly sperm wiggling on my tongue tastes like maggots and cum. like butter and gum. 3 doses of sugar coated sperm! .....yuck or yum? II does he get it? it depends on what color my rollerblades are. as we skate down the sand my hands will twist your midnight blue shirt around my thumbs would you let me cut off my tongue? what about caterpillars and the soft sensation of the process before maturation do green legs and fuzzy heads intimidate you? you're inside me, what now?

POSTING THIS FEEDS MY EGO =) [21 Jan 2005|03:47pm] caracollective: how long will it take this single monkey brain to write some poetry if I cannot spare a thousand years and have but one typewriter iamado r r r k: dude go away caracollective: I'm sorry, it would be much appreciated if you were nice sometimes. caracollective: obviously not, you're only out for yourself and any hedonistic adventure that will feed your ego caracollective: some do art for others, some art art themselves, thou art what? caracollective: life is merely inspiration... the average person grabs an aspiring for a headache, the writer grabs a pen, the artist his brush and the musician his notes caracollective: and i am juggling all three caracollective: happily iamado r r r k: haha caracollective: whereas simple minds delight only in the juggling, i delight in that which i embrace beyond that iamado r r r k: i dont fucking care, why are u telling me iamado r r r k: justify yourself by yourself iamado r r r k: u dont know your audience caracollective: because im writing right (write) now. and i am merely using this window as a window to embellish what i see through that same window. the glass also helps reflect iamado r r r k: why the fuck are u talking to me like that, stop trying to prove yourself right now iamado r r r k: GO AWAY caracollective: nothing to prove iamado r r r k: GO THE FUCK AWAY iamado r r r k: go away caracollective: i dont seek to get anywehre in life, but where i am ... i may be moving but my destination is always the same spot. the same point is where i want to be. it doesnt much matter being anywhere else or where you are going. iamado r r r k: yeah. u stagnant bitch. 10 comments|post comment

we all have the right to think, but still, [19 Jan 2005|05:55pm] i want the beautiful taste of the river of words he drinks from.. (translates into: i want to be a good writer)

scenic monday [17 Jan 2005|10:50pm] every.. individual hair on his body was made with purpose (holy shit that thought/line spurs endless branches of thoughts to choose from. what will i write about to connect the images? the shades of his eyes? our silences? our creepy chemistry? ) damn, that's the end of my internet introversion analysis writing for the night.

A poem for Trevin [16 Jan 2005|10:43pm] BREAKFAST MENU: black meaty discolored dog dick slabbed and fried in a yellow pan of greese morning plaque and discharge spread around a cow's plump tender nipple the cow produces milk in chunks of curd with the farmer's lubricated fingers half excited, half aroused. tender flesh flapping in the wind like a flag, but more like a dangling soft dick. of a 5 year old. pregnant mother bonsai's face down on her infant, causing suffocation and hearing loss. 13 year old girl discovers a change in her breasts, excited she shows her best friend, who immediately grows jealous at the sight of their swelling who immediately grabs a pair of scissors and gouges at her cunt. 17 year old girl being raped by her chinese father... they orgasm together, incredible-sublime-surreal, they fall asleep in each other's arms, smiling mother comes home to her dog urinating on her dildo she masturbates with it in a room with a mattress and a ceiling fan videotapes it, and mails it to her boss on valentine's day. she gets the raise.

sealing the brain container [16 Jan 2005|10:12pm] reasons: solar facial silence substitute alligator orgasm saliva fingers making love on a balanced globe also: redneck sex niggers and chinks Sunland's identity teenage crisis infection cunts, blunts.. and Pubic Hair.

[08 Jan 2005|02:07pm] This is the main condition of absurdity – the dragooning of an unconvinced transcendent consciousness into the service of an immanent, limited enterprise like a human life.

aaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!! [06 Jan 2005|08:43pm] [ mood | when i dont. talk. ] verb. adjective noun ambiguous verb noun word word word word word word word word word word word wo r d words + missing words x metaphors for shit i can't express properly properly. the repeated word for emphasis unstructured structure sounds in harmony in placed order to test comprehension well fuck that, fuck you, fuck writing yEEah!

bullshit situation, at least i can laugh! [05 Jan 2005|07:45pm] [ music | ya know.. i dont give a fuuuuuuuck ] ohh i love her- that seran wrapping feminist celebrating backs, that stupid identity uniform you wear makes me laugh she gives out collectible stamps entitled "BFF" and never mails any letters. she writes people letters and never delivers. she tells people she writes them letters that she'll never deliver one would wonder if she even had anything inside those pages at all. i fucked the drunk you and of course you started crying, of course. i'm beginning to genuinely dislike you, you introduced me to writing about cyclical concepts, never thought you'd mentally operate like a fucking child. it seems that you were a pebble i carried along to glance at in vain. throw rocks out onto shore and cover your pain with save the earth t-shirts self indulgence wept in my ear to that redundant indie rock once more that her library book porno and breathe patterns are expected and you predictably play this role. i'm just the asian playing at piano recitals, why exactly did you befriend me? ethnicity? jealousy? dependency? reciproci---wait that never happened. glance inside the bathroom of removing the skin from your fingernails from scraping your feet in the shower, tearing away your: accepted cool-yet-awkward hipsters who can't quite function, she belongs of course you sympathize, your identity is more definable you belong. baby baby baby, its your youniverse. The End.

time box reads "Do not open until January 2, 2005" [02 Jan 2005|06:48pm] Listen, the rainmaker is crying to the music

nocturnal ramble [31 Dec 2004|03:25am] [ music | subtle ] 45 mountain tops, imaginary by chance, were painted in symmetrical solar position. earth seems to be aproximately 1 mile away from my heels with ankle-wings and who knows how many dreams, (big ones) that's my luggage, all i've decided to have. i sit there a lot, and just laugh i suppose laughing is the new therapy, but you sound like a lunatic when you realize that laughing at laughing isn't funny. the nervous tendencies, as the music raises intensity please raise the volume of the voice you have chosen to read this aloud with licking pale flesh. something's dead in the forest. the smiling bones on desert planks, of the sullen eyes, and a refusal of depression .i can't sleep. we begin the climb in this scene. large mouth descends from the backdrop darkness. stained teeth and red lips, laughing at the struggling poet. i'm taken aback.. the audience has been trying to perform for me all along. in one frustrated pull- ceasing the beating of my skeleton, punishing me with chemicals that feel happy. murdering myself for the irony of beauty. something so destructively passive and depressively romantic. you'd notice my awe stricken gaze when you penetrated my jaw. and fucked it- my heart beats in triplets, sensitive to any form of sensitivity he was an 8th note yesterday and a grace note today and i'm still a triplet...

alison deleted her livejournal [29 Dec 2004|10:11pm] [ music | physics of a unicycle ] .these words were designed to cry. fellow shadows gather 'round, hindsight animals constipate me i'm trying to just be, but fabrications are weeping in the creases of my ears "this is who you used to be!" they can go ahead and think 'oh her, she was the prostitute camillion ready to be tickled and have her cunt licked while smiling for internet users' the lyricist pondered at musical volume and snatched her! drugs. and stimulation. tender vessels beating against a new body. virginity. it's a rush. and a lot more fun. -- Look at her, she's wrong! is it staying true or crying safely so far into your hole you can't even realize your reality is a pit? "you don't know me" Alright, I don't. "stop trying to justify my feelings" Alright, I won't. we can end this friendship with a click doors. shut. doors. shut. (WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!- but see i give a fuck.) they shall be whatever label they're stapled as this is us *best* ship racing unit sailing circular motions through calm waters but there must be a storm, if not let's create one for storms are beautiful, and that can make us beautiful too what are you trying to accomplish, let's be real i'm raising my voice for you so u don't have to scream. angelica says: she was always the one who glimmered in soft voices she spoke to me, she reached me, she loved me and i think whatever love is, i think i can say Fuck love what draws us together is what erases us as we must flow. or rather learn to, but baby cheer up i made you guitar songs for your tears, you've reached my heart too it's been reaccquanted with you life isn't about that, tell me what it is tell me why we're girls and why gender justifies us tell me why we have to have issues you are,... Female. i am no kind soul, but you understood feminine sorrow your heart just understands, i've been there... i've been IN there. i'm... overanalyzing . you do the same thing too, in each other we find refuge in each other we found refuge. don't define me best friend don't define me shitty friend you are you, and you are you. i don't care what kind of friends we are i don't fucking care anymore, for i don't need permission to love you. (let's look at ourselves now. let's fucking LOOK one last time and not be afraid to see coffee, tea or sushi?) alison, it's a FUCK IT or FACE IT mentality. you walk, i walk too.

big tits and kinky cuts [29 Dec 2004|05:21pm] this is somehow supposed to be considered beautiful? i don't understand...

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