Monthly Archives: January 2015

Untitled From 3.6.00

3.6.00 Denver

I wanna run away from myself

I want to leave myself somewhere

leave it in the dust

run til my legs can’t move

run til my ankles break

I wanna run away from my soul

leave it for dead

shriveled up

turned to dust

then breathe it all in

so I can remember

who I was

I wanna kill myself

see my brains out of my skull

see my blood splatter against her face

I wanna run away from myself

because I’m the bullet

that wants to blow myself away.

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Untitled From Early 2000

234 am got the wierds

I feel like my head is splitting open

Like my brain is going to peal away

To form a new being

Something to pop out for sure

Have no clue when

Don’t know why

Don’t even care anymore

Just lost in a stupor

Sliding away from my own fears

The same ones that

Haunt me

All the day long

And this fucking Camel

Gotta smoke

Gonna die

Can’t ever stop

So so powerless

Over this chemical

Like so many other things in my life

I just can’t ever seem to stop

Doing what I do not want to do

Why?

I ask this all the time

Yet there is no real response

Like I am frozen in time or some shit like it

Stuck in the muck

Of a swamp back in Jersey

Just can’t move

In the tundra of life

The sky of death

Coming to consume me

In one fatal blow to my fragile ego

I’ll shatter into a million pieces

Like my soul, just pieces

No one knows

Who I really am

No one wants to know who I really am

The man who knows to much

The man who knows the truth

The man who is now a living abortion

What a shame…

2 Weeks Weak

2.18.00 01:00

Have you ever lie awake all night—not just for a night, but for weeks at a time? Never knowing what was real and what was a dream? Caught in the undertow of life, just tied down and beaten to pulp by life?

Laying there with words swimming in your head—but every time you try to write them it resembles a gun shooting blanks—sound, recoil but no kill. Yeah I feel like this a lot—like I’m shooting blanks. Every time I reach for my gun and pull the trigger on my temple it just goes pssss—a dud, nothing there—an empty gun for an empty man—a lost soul swimming in the sea of life. Just drifting from storefront to storefront looking at life wash by in the reflection—I am a nothing man, less then zero, less then nothing—lower then worm shit.

Cascades of blood pour from my soul daily—yet I never die—just bleed a lot—shriveled mass confusion—the looking glass of life—lost in rage—loneliness is my best friend, he knows me well—comforts me, tells me that I need to be strong—women make me weak—weakness kills, well not me.

I would eat anyone alive—consuming their flesh, suck it all down—shit it out and eat it again. The nightmares that haunt you are me good nights—the dreams that consume me whole would make you weak fucks go insane—the death—blood—pain—slices me into small pieces which I need to pick up and staple together for another day of total carnage. The silly people in my life can’t see how truly fucked up I am—no one can see how fucked up I am—look good on the outside—at all cost—the inside like a shattered vase—once beautiful—now just a bunch of pieces—on the ground—to be tossed in the trash—an unwanted person—unwanted man—unwanted soul—human garbage—I am useless to everyone—everything—nothing makes and sense—lost in the blur of life—lost in the blur of rage, lost without it. Jo to comfort me, validate me, tell me she is ok, and I am ok.

BUT ARE WE?????

2.19.00 01:45

Pink Floyd swimming around in my head.

Just looking for something that just isn’t there anymore—it never was I think—just looking for the non-existent oracle, plane—existence—no where to run—or hide. The darkness consumes me like a shark on it’s prey—slowly and painfully, I actually like being digested by life—makes me feel pain and pain makes me stronger, and stronger still—I have no time for weakness in my life, none at all—Noah was weak—I told her how I dealt with weakness, she didn’t like it much. Well fuck her! Alone is still the best number, always has been—one—alone—one strong—6.26.71—pure rage, a fist of fucking fury, I will crush, plunder and kill the weak—I am strength—I am a cancer in the world, in your breast, in your brain, in your heart and your rotting soul. I will kill you in time—oh, yes I will, that is my job you see; to kill the weak—to kill them all.

But why?

But how?

I just don’t get it anymore

I mean what the fuck?

Why is this shit so hard to get?

I mean it’s just life isn’t it?

Yeah just life—

And life is

A real slow

Moving beast with

No hair

On it’s

Smelly ass.

Do be bop—do be bop

Yeah

Yeah

Yeah

And no one to love again

Fuck it—

Valentines day—

I got myself some candy

And some flowers

Went to a movie, then dinner

Later that night I had my way with my self

And I still couldn’t cum at the same time.