Saturday, August 18, 2007

I'm thinking too much to be safe.

there are crickets in my kitchen.
the tortured artist will never grow up.
the abused will never live free.
but I am comforted if only slightly when you talk.

Tuesday, August 14, 2007

Monday, August 13, 2007

she wants to know why she's given half her life to people she hates now.

there are so many selves to be, I'm just trying to find the one for me.

you can't be missed if you never go away. trying to make every action treasured by you and me. it'll take some practice.

by four thirty am I see lines etched on the keyboard that weren't there in the morning. my eyes are burning.

I need some of that god take me away action.
I'm afraid to die.

Wednesday, August 8, 2007

no i'm not dead.

dyed my hair black again (back to black and all that).
cut my bangs and cleaning my room for the big switch-around.
iminently depressed after coming home from new york. could've expected that.
living in my clothes, going on 3 days now. everytime I shower, my hair changes color. the only reason I smell is to keep people away (it's intentional, I swear).

arrested development is my new favorite thing.

by the way. looking for someone to see the hush sound at the rex theatre with on the 20th (the pittsburgh area). contact me if you know of any takers. robotversusjesus@yahoo.com. I'll probably buy the ticket but plan otherwise.

my clothes fit much more loosely on me these days.

Thursday, August 2, 2007

write on / off

"I wonder what you look like under your tee-shirt. I wonder what you sound like when you're not wearing words. I wonder what we have when we're not pretending."


some stuff from later days. I was surprised I wrote this.

the grit between the words is what's been haunting my mind, looking in the crowd for a familiar face or hand, the shivers down my spine meaning nothing. it's the thrumming guitars and the sparks in your hair, and the harmonies and the heads.you give me this feeling I can't identify (with).

sometimes I write words and I don't even know where they came from or what they mean. these crazy blurred words and these landmarking songs, and i'm sick of this style. i wonder if when you grow up you change. like really change. i wouldn't mind it right now. do you know how hard it is to fall asleep next to the ticking of a clock? it is a neurosis-activating action, a bomb that will never go off (grow up). I stop watches. but not in the hiro kind of way. in the way that you just end the day with a stillness that is not accustomed.oh, i'm just bullshitting now.how scared you would to be seeing anything moving at this hour. how tiny you feel when you just look out your window. how the anticipation for tommorrow is really all that's keeping you going.

I feel like everyone I know is turning me on everyone I know.