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bully

podunk town in wisconsin

SG Since 2006

Followers 30202 Following 7483

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Friday Aug 31, 2007

Aug 31, 2007
2
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bully =
so extremely effing glad to be back in ohio where nothing can hurt her and her boyfriend and doggie and hedgie can hug and kiss her incessantly.

maine =
the opposite of good, fun, and nice.

that's all i'm allowed to say really.

i wish i could say more.


better post to come.
in the meantime.
here are some things i've written in the past.
considering the state of mind i'm in, i figure these are most appropriate.
please don't worry about me in real life though.
i'm fine.
just down.
i wrote these all by my lonesome.
so don't be a douchebag and try to pass them off like you wrote them.
some douchebag people are like that..
not you guys though.
i trust you guys.
<3

cross my heart
cross my heart
barbed wire and revolvers
words aren't enough
to protect me
hoping turned to certainty
when it comes to dying
i can't take anymore of that
i can't fall again
watch my steps
and watch my back
warranted paranoia
rose colered lenses dyed black
thicker skin
dulling knives
filling voids and vacancies
with cement
or perhaps land mines
imaginary restraining orders
hiding places
and secret escape routes
never and always alone
cross my heart
yellow tape and white chalk lines
bloody and bruised
beaten up and down
stretched too thin
under-priced and over-spent
constructing walls
deconstructing trust
and faith
acquiring defense mechanisms
getting guarded
with more weapons
and the aim?
always getting better


habits of breathing
You dont have to scream anymore-
I can hear what you want by the way you breath-
when and how long and your face when you do it-
I wont stand still and wait to be shown where to go-
Ive got no shame laugh all the way to the door-
on the outside at you-
on the inside at me-
no doubt Ill be back tomorrow-
no doubt it will end the same way


Nausea, Life and Stuff
not too many things

different or good now

the feelings - not what's going on

i've become my opposite

i've become the unknown

no more outrageous dreams of independence

"be[ing] all that i can be" is out of reach

that's what's different

what's going on

matters of life have changed direction

and of need

as much as i hate to admit this

i've been selfish

and that part of me

cannot coexist with what is to come

and so it goes

dies

with the rest of my hopes/dreams/ambitions

my stars

it's a good thing some days

and a reason for suicide others

i'm pretty confident in that i think i know what to do now

love more

work harder

focus on "Lanford"

make something for someone else

give up trying to be pretty

don't be tired

be flexible or you'll lose everything

don't lose him

you need him

hope for the best

prepare for departures

disagreements

sleepless nights

seclusion

and wait

for the bad things to blow over

and pray that they do

keep safe and close the things that you'd never get back if lost

let go of the past for those that can't

including yourself

be what you've become

accepting "Lanford"



there you have it.
have an excellent holiday weekend kiddos.
i love you all to pieces.

sugar,
bully

VIEW 25 of 28 COMMENTS
booksartyoume:
'Breathe' timothy r g, 06/21/07 inspiration in this present moment....

breathe,
inhale, exhale,
the moment is,
all others are illusion of allusions
nothingness,
thisness,
here you choose to be,
not merely be.
romanticism's delight says,
'i need you,'
whereas truth say,
'i am;'
here you are free
not to be choked by my need;
here you are free to be
I AM.
Breathe.

'five stanzas of elation without hyperbole' timothy r gates, 01/19/2007
from the nape of her neck
to the small of her back
says,
'linger here until i'm high,
then you might be welcome
into see the night's fire
beyond this ride'

flowers in the field,
lyrics from an old song,
flowers in her hair,
also an old song's lyrics
something about the grass,
you in it and flowers
recalled a day behind,
present in my mind,
a bong in the middle of a hillside of daisies,
my guitar sitting by the way,
my young lover singing her song
as we smoked our bong,
and each other

the sun smiled,
then laughed;
the sand danced,
the ocean's waves called you in,
but was jealous for your play,
'why's the sand get to caress your frame,
to see your smile up close?'
the wave's foam raise higher,
but only get to watch.
both the sun and the water whisper,
'i'll eat sand if you just come closer'

youth's claim to make love all night,
eclipsed by hoary thoughts,
no need to speak,
'when love is made now,
we don't sing the old Irish adolescent's tune'
-roll me over, in the clover;
roll me over, in the clover,
and do it again -
'we're no longer in a hurry,
whether all night, tonight,
or even if it takes
evening's moon to pass
yes, to another night
before we repose in our delight.'

The Jesus Prayer,
Or the name of Jesus
Exhaled, forgetting to breath
While in synergy's arms;
We don't care if you believe in Jesus or not;
Only question,
Is there a divine, human(e) name,
Someone other than theirs,
That you call out
When there is no name high enough
To exclaim
The joy of the mountain top's dream come?
Again, we don't care,
Especially when we're
Just trying to remember to breath.

Sep 8, 2007
ferretbite:
Yes, my pretty, that you can, though there's not much that I can actually do kiss
Sep 11, 2007

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