Ode to a Sunday:
Wake too early to the buzz of an alarm and spend five minutes trying to turn off my glasses before I realize that they aren't the ones making that horrible noise and I've shattered the frames and bits are stuck in my hand and I jump from my coccon and dance around trying to pick slivers out with my teeth until...
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Wake too early to the buzz of an alarm and spend five minutes trying to turn off my glasses before I realize that they aren't the ones making that horrible noise and I've shattered the frames and bits are stuck in my hand and I jump from my coccon and dance around trying to pick slivers out with my teeth until...
Read More
tronvillain:
Your alarm buzzes? I have the shrieking kind. Glasses eh? I don't even own wearable glasses any more. I should really get some.
I want to see The Strokes--
So tell me how people eat pigs, for I have no idea anymore. For instance, I was once in New Orleans, and I followed one around as he walked in and out of bar after bar talking to transvestites who wore too much eye makeup and sang "Don't worry be Happy" but I was happy and Mr. Oinkers (his...
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So tell me how people eat pigs, for I have no idea anymore. For instance, I was once in New Orleans, and I followed one around as he walked in and out of bar after bar talking to transvestites who wore too much eye makeup and sang "Don't worry be Happy" but I was happy and Mr. Oinkers (his...
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rebeldaisy:
tell me a really funny joke that'll make me snort
violencejack:
You are surreal.
The effort to update more often will increase.
Should I give a background?
Born thru a Kentucky army hospital while my Mommy cursed the General and held me close forever and I moved to D.C. and Maryland and Arizona and Carson City to Houston. Told grand lies to conquer a small village near Sugar Land that no longer exists as my abilities as ruler just...
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Should I give a background?
Born thru a Kentucky army hospital while my Mommy cursed the General and held me close forever and I moved to D.C. and Maryland and Arizona and Carson City to Houston. Told grand lies to conquer a small village near Sugar Land that no longer exists as my abilities as ruler just...
Read More
VIEW 5 of 5 COMMENTS
roxxee:
Come baaaaaaaack! *dies*
tronvillain:
Perhaps the effort to update more often has increased, but that has not actually resulted in updates more often. So how ya doing man?
I'm tasting Helium.
all these magnificent powers, like curls in the great swan stampede.
the air is thick, rainbowed & masculine fire wah-ter streaming down my face--there are six clouds that watch my taxi-cab ride thru these crowded fuck-you streets. the madness is contagious & I see window pains
that make no promises but
dreary reflections.
Have I spoken way too much?
Had hurt been...
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all these magnificent powers, like curls in the great swan stampede.
the air is thick, rainbowed & masculine fire wah-ter streaming down my face--there are six clouds that watch my taxi-cab ride thru these crowded fuck-you streets. the madness is contagious & I see window pains
that make no promises but
dreary reflections.
Have I spoken way too much?
Had hurt been...
Read More
VIEW 7 of 7 COMMENTS
tronvillain:
Yeah! *chuckle* Did you catch Joe Schmo this week? They had all three episodes in a row, though I only watched the new one. Oh, have my new tat up.
tronvillain:
As I told Bathory, I have thought about colour. Maybe something red. Write in your journal once and a while man! Doesn't have to be a poem you know. 
Something makes me think it couldn't be real.
She's beside me, her sad eyes--mirrors that I watch myself alive inside, she smiles and exhales the candle wax and ecstasy giggles we wrap our arms around each other and every inch of her soft cold skin is perfectly placed.
We talk for hours--substituting words for kissses that last for centuries. Two old souls found in the...
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She's beside me, her sad eyes--mirrors that I watch myself alive inside, she smiles and exhales the candle wax and ecstasy giggles we wrap our arms around each other and every inch of her soft cold skin is perfectly placed.
We talk for hours--substituting words for kissses that last for centuries. Two old souls found in the...
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VIEW 5 of 5 COMMENTS
tronvillain:
Hey, I know how nice it is to have someone actually acknowledge what you are writing.
Cursed spelling mistake that you don't see until much much too late.
[Edited on Sep 16, 2003]
Cursed spelling mistake that you don't see until much much too late.
[Edited on Sep 16, 2003]
violencejack:
Welcome
Watching her, as she dances, spinning round and round, not touching the floor and going faster...melting my heart with the way her hair brushes across my face and she starts to hum a familiar song--
The lights go faster...and I feel drunker...she won't stop and I don't know how much longer I can take this. My heart speeds up and I want to grab her...
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The lights go faster...and I feel drunker...she won't stop and I don't know how much longer I can take this. My heart speeds up and I want to grab her...
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roxxee:
In Houston
He dreams of Ginsberg
His tremors, tiny earthquakes
We listen to the voice of the dead man
No one else cares to hear
Our hearts weep in unison
I smell bubble gum
When I think of his words
Penned to paper
Words of maddness and love
In Houston
He dreams of Ginsberg
I watch him smoke cigarettes
I imagine he is dreaming of faraway places
Long ago
Of Angels and Bums from 1956
We say we are insane and laugh at ourselves
I watch him watch me
In Houston
He dreams of Ginsberg
We eat pancakes late at night
We don't eat panckes late at night
I want to take his hand
Wander the streets
Write what we see
But I just smoke my menthol and tell old stories
We smile.
In Houston
He dreams of Ginsberg
and I think his visions drive him mad
I think I would like to fall asleep for 50 years
with bubblegum breath and smoke
with jazz
with Ginsberg
with him...
He dreams of Ginsberg
His tremors, tiny earthquakes
We listen to the voice of the dead man
No one else cares to hear
Our hearts weep in unison
I smell bubble gum
When I think of his words
Penned to paper
Words of maddness and love
In Houston
He dreams of Ginsberg
I watch him smoke cigarettes
I imagine he is dreaming of faraway places
Long ago
Of Angels and Bums from 1956
We say we are insane and laugh at ourselves
I watch him watch me
In Houston
He dreams of Ginsberg
We eat pancakes late at night
We don't eat panckes late at night
I want to take his hand
Wander the streets
Write what we see
But I just smoke my menthol and tell old stories
We smile.
In Houston
He dreams of Ginsberg
and I think his visions drive him mad
I think I would like to fall asleep for 50 years
with bubblegum breath and smoke
with jazz
with Ginsberg
with him...
Maybe I jerk-off too much and read Spin magazine like a periodical junkie who should be hung over a German balcony with Aquafina water bottles strapped to my tiny ears and screaming out lyrics to the Anorexia song by my Mummy camera fictional character who dances to all my jukebox hits.
Prayers dont work when you stumble thru parking lots looking for the right lights...
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Prayers dont work when you stumble thru parking lots looking for the right lights...
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roxxee:
Mmm, alcohol vomit fumes. You rock my socks Donkey.
You rock my socks Donkey.
roxxee:
Think snow Donkey! 
Maybe she would be there. Be there to hug me, stroke my hair, and whisper that everything would eventually be okay.
There are voices that predict these tragedies, but so vague. I see maelstromssky bound the clouded shy, sky-pregnant with tears.
my friend. ohher.
She has about her a wisdom that is both chaotic and simple & she loves the butterfly trees that she sits...
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There are voices that predict these tragedies, but so vague. I see maelstromssky bound the clouded shy, sky-pregnant with tears.
my friend. ohher.
She has about her a wisdom that is both chaotic and simple & she loves the butterfly trees that she sits...
Read More
roxxee:
Wow. That is so incredibly gorgious. You rock.
roxxee:
Hee Haw!
Sure, let the thunder crash at the very sound of
this.
Codeine Lips are the plump, not always perfect, lips of the sensitive boy. They hold back or push forth the words that make us who we are. Sad, non-confident, sensitiveor whatever we must be. Well be the ones who sit back and watch those pretty boys who strut around w/their perfect, model gals on...
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this.
Codeine Lips are the plump, not always perfect, lips of the sensitive boy. They hold back or push forth the words that make us who we are. Sad, non-confident, sensitiveor whatever we must be. Well be the ones who sit back and watch those pretty boys who strut around w/their perfect, model gals on...
Read More
roxxee:
You betcha. I just got your message on AIM but you were gone. 
Anyway, contact me again k?
You betcha. I just got your message on AIM but you were gone. Anyway, contact me again k? You find it kind of funny that I say that Im crazy yet I continue to pamper myself with gifts. I must be sane to share love like that. Insane, depressed people hide in solitude, cower in the corner and swipe at invisible demons with purple flyswatters while screaming and cursing and pulling at their hair until the roots are half-hanging out and chunks of...
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roxxee:
Yes! I knew it! That movie rocks! Rock on. My roomate has it on video and we make everyone new watch it. I love the Mac in his bunny ears and emaciated body. I saw boys like that my summers out at my grandparent's property in Hitchcock. *shivers* I also LOVE the chair wrestling. Kick that chair's ass! Love your entry by the way. 
roxxee:
To be honest I didn't put my picture up either. Well I put it up but someone else sized it for me. You should post in the boards and some one will help you. And while peeing off a bridge may not get your pic up any faster it would be SO fun! Wish I could. Hmph. So unfair. Wow you like New Wave. Do you ever go to #'s on Fridays?
And while peeing off a bridge may not get your pic up any faster it would be SO fun! Wish I could. Hmph. So unfair. Wow you like New Wave. Do you ever go to #'s on Fridays?