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deadxstop - LiveJournal.com
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I'm just about all used up.
the lucky ones get car crashes.
going to bed without dinner because i dont deserve it.
its never been about how many i can f**k.
its always been about how many i can fall in love with.
the small price to pay.
i think the thing i miss most nowadays is waking up to 20 noods in my inbox.
a small sample bar of soap came in the mail today. it smelled exactly like your old condo. the smell didnt sting like i expected. actually, it was kind of nice. it reminded me of cat videos and dancing to raphael saadiq in the kitchen. your feet on top of mine. your hair smelling dirty. the kids arguing over the xbox. the memories didnt feel desperate. they didnt feel like a loss. there was no resentment or animosity. just a simple calm and smile happy for the moments i had.
it took a year but im happy for you.
wherever you are.
because at the end of the day when you break someones heart it doesnt matter how delicate you were.
DXS011. december 2010.
this week i began work on my next book-ish type thing. ive been adding a few things that i pulled out of 4am friends and adding stories that should have been included. its bringing me back to that time. but its a good thing. remembering every vivid detail. feeling it makes me excited to get back into the mode of getting my hands dirty.
only this time i would like some answers.
home.
even 30 years ago they were better than your band.
thanks sarah
"Certainly, anytime anyone gets up in the morning earlier than one would like, drags oneself across town to do things one wouldn't ordinarily do in one's leisure time for people one doesn't particularly like - that would be selling out, whether the activity involves working in a coal mine, heating up macaroni and cheese at Popeye's, or giving tug jobs to strangers in the back of a strip club. To my mind, they are all morally equivalent. You do what you've got to do to get by."
- Medium Raw, Anthony Bourdain.
she said this reminded her of me.
its funny...
when you get upset when you get what you asked for.
im an angry man, scorned. but i dont say it. show it. because that would make it real.
and its not real. it cant be real. because if its real, well then, im f**ked because... it was real.
When we're incomplete, we're always searching for somebody to complete
us. When, after a few years or a few months of a relationship, we find that
we're still unfulfilled, we blame our partners and take up with somebody
more promising. This can go on and on--series polygamy--until we admit
that while a partner can add sweet dimensions to our lives, we, each of us,
are responsible for our own fulfillment. Nobody else can provide it for us,
and to believe otherwise is to delude ourselves dangerously and to program
for eventual failure every relationship we enter.
-Tom Robbins
endeavor - kill traitors.
Kill Traitors: an ideology. A standard by which to breathe within the machine without a mind. Patriotism defined as a passive reaction to the inexcusable. Silence "subversives" with open minds who dare to stand up for the truth. Who stands up for the truth? Who remains seated while the rest of America chooses to stand to pledge allegiance to something they know nothing about. Just a pretty picture to go along with such a pretty song. Oh, what a pretty song. Democracy defined: "Love it or leave it"... but do not question, do not think, no deviation, do not proceed from the right wing. What serves as the more effective mode of thought control? When you've got more sense than to buy up the lies of the times being sold by those who run the economy, or to kick back and relax and bask in the rhetoric of free thought that the same powers cast into your subconsciousness so you never know the truth of what's being told. The greatest trick the devil ever played was convincing the world he didn't exist. The greatest trick ever played was us outsmarting ourselves.
ive never believed myself more than i do now.
you know, ive written some decent words over the years.
im finally taking my own advice.
im getting back to the good.
makes me want to have children.
9 of the best seconds on the internet.
Fight club is not about fighting...
... you simple f**k.
NSFW
fine.
everything about this:
and this:
"how come the people ive forgotten still exist?"
back arching.
eyes closing.
mouth opening.
walls falling.
wolf breathing.
streetlights illuminating.
redline roaring.
chest sweating.
hips lifting.
fists clenching.
anxiety pounding.
insecurities fading.
"4am friends."
book on hold. maybe for a few days, maybe a few months, maybe forever. but who knows, im sure when my bank account reads $0.00 ill force myself to just send the files off to become PDFs and send them off to become a book with money i dont have. all i know is that the new shit ive been working on has kind of f**ked with me. hard. and yeah, i know this shit is rough now but in the end will be good for my head and the healing. well at least thats what my chips are on.
i feel like my life takes place in three places. tossing around in bed, on the right side of my stupid couch or listening to music and writing on my purple laptop in a purple chair while sipping on green tea at starbucks. if i didnt have to put on my coat, i would think ive become a recluse. and i know i cant forget to go out and live but even just thinking about this book and its fallout and its open holes into every last f**ked up story leave me exhausted all day. there is no peeking into anything, its a kicking down the door and moving into garbage dumps. i sit in this chair and think of the most shameful war stories and dare myself to get into it. and i do. and right now is the consequence of that process.
i had a dream that i printed the entire thing out and burned it. i dont know if thats a good or bad thing. i almost feel like this is the end of something but i dont know what. the end of the abuse, the end of the nightmares, the end of the confusion, intimacy, sex, compulsions? i just want it to all end.
and i dont know if thats a good thing or a bad thing.
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