Cheers Darlin' [entries|friends|calendar] bullets4brkfst "You've got a fast CAR and I've got a plan to get us out of here " [ userinfo | livejournal userinfo ] [ calendar | livejournal calendar ]

(1 |take flight) Master Cleanse [12 Jun 2007|12:15pm] Day 1 I woke up craving mexican food. I want one of those qdoba burritos with lettuce and cheese and the corn salsa. I'm trying to think of that food as poison. So instead I'm sitting here drinking salt water and hoping I make it through the day. This better be worth $52 and no food. I fucking LOVE food.

(take flight) fuck yeah i can sleep at night [08 Jul 2006|12:31pm] i try hard at everything i do. and everything i try at i never fail. anticipation. repuatation. everything i've sacrificed with no expectations.

(4 |take flight) [03 Jul 2006|10:52pm] ( Read more... )

(2 |take flight) [23 Oct 2005|06:44pm] I made another new layout. thats how lazy of a day it was today. and i went all out with it too

(take flight) His stupid little irony [06 Sep 2005|12:34am] [ mood | complacent ] [ music | jack's mannequin ] I smiled and he walked away. Just like that he fled the scene. Through all my efforts, it still wasn't good enough- and suddenly I realized it's not good enough for me. I want a strong something with a plan of attack. I want a priority list and him at the top to be crossed out first. But he won't be. So I said "Hey" a little louder and he kept walking. Not running, only walking. Void of a reaction, I still feel empty. But clearly I felt compelled to do something. Because I wrote this down like some sort of heart attack aftermath. It's been a long ass heart attack. Sometimes I think it's my salvation and sometimes it's my plague. I feel dictated, subjected. I feel strong and above this but weak enough to fall for it. I am lost. So fucking lost.

(1 |take flight) [12 Aug 2005|02:27pm] Can I remind everyone how much I hate stuff?

(4 |take flight) Lenin [22 Jul 2005|01:33pm] I remind myself too much of my mother. Hold on, the cake is beeping.

(3 |take flight) Numbness of Sound [25 Apr 2005|06:00am] [ mood | sick ] I think it's important for me to understand why you would take the time into finding my password. The thoughts posted in my private entries are most definitely private for a reason. They're meant to be mine, and only mine. They're sometimes irrational, raw, and embarrasing. It just really sucks that you went against that. I don't know how you got my password and why, but for you to post it on a public entry is beyond the embarrasment. This opens the world up to reading my thoughts; thankfully, there's reasonable people who hopefully wouldn't. You can endlessly blame me for bothering to post this on the internet at all, but the features of livejournal, like controlling public or private entries are there for a reason. And a good one at that. After writing things I shouldn't public, I thought I'd try to heal the scars by making it private, and still it was broken. What vendetta are we involved in? What revenge are you looking for? I am sorry that you thought this would solve something. Livejournal pulls through yet again as a manipulative, destructive program. You are just another perpetrator. I don't know you are, but I'm sure I know you pretty well. This just sucks. That's all there is to it. I don't want to put you on a guilt trip or beg for attention. I just don't know how else to communicate with you. This is incredibly embarrasing. Just- use your intelligence for something more productive? We're all human beings and yet somehow we can't treat eachother that way. We can't respect eachother and we can't let things go. Is this a lesson? Is this revenge? Or are you just "bored" again?

(1 |take flight) [24 Apr 2005|11:09am] [ mood | crazy ] [ music | something corporate- watch the sky ] Erin's right...she was always the expert. 11 shows and I can only compete with 5. But still we're bound by the same sorry mistake. Or so it seems that way now. All the scars healed by Me and the Moon and the nights with North on repeat. Singing Down in the park, it was real. It was most definitely real. Erin speaks of the end. We were never ones to give up. Getting on that DVD, I can still show you where our faces are in the crowd. I remember that line and the people who slept there. But 2 hours before we were driving through Nevada. It almost feels surreal now, like some long-lost dream but I remember the marks on her wrist, and I remember the bracelets that covered them. And each bracelet had a new lyric. "It's a good year for a murder." I fear that all our money was spent on some kid's beginning. And now he's matured and ready for something far less meaningful. Andrew just needed a cheap band to get a start in the business and now he can move on... the only time I felt alive was when we were planning the next adventure. The next drive across the country to do what we do best. Love Something Corporate. I have nothing more to say... just to depict the end of an infusion. There's some stupid California commerical on USA. There's about 25 poems I wrote while listening to North. There's about 15 more shows I want to see. Er. Air-drum through the end with me. Yeah?

(1 |take flight) Don't Scream [20 Apr 2005|08:39pm] [ mood | yes, it is public! ] [ music | so call me a hypocrite! ] I found life today. I breathed it in and I licked it off the window. I went to Taco Bell and had the most amazing burrito. It has got to be the best thing I've tasted in months, and all that organic food and all that weed and all the contenders of this pathetic year faded into the sound of his piano. I found happiness again, in the form of cheap food and greasy hair. Just like all those nights were. And how fucking beautiful. Rain was in my shoe and it smelled like cheap California man. I feel like the germs don't matter and the kiss is still gold. The fact that I gave all this up for a blank trip through spoiled egg drop soup and all the assholes but I feel like it's back again. I swear that the burrito was perfect. The right amount of everything and it was 89 cents and all these notebooks went to hell with my umbrella. i'm not making sense, but i'm not writing this for you, so all is well. I found it in the form of a 50's rock song. A tune with 3 chords and a couple quarters buying us lunch. And I realized this when I tasted it. And I got sick of all the complaining. Of all the never good enough. But I know you're wrong. So can I keep going? In this alone I think I made it.

(take flight) [30 Mar 2005|09:57pm] By request of the user, this blog has been officialy terminated and will no longer be used for public posts and/or general livejournal purposes.

(take flight) not a pretty girl [29 Mar 2005|07:14pm] i just have to wonder how it happened. it's like i closed my eyes to rest and woke up in a completely new paradigm.

(1 |take flight) ...and its not cause i'm a pushover [29 Mar 2005|06:35pm] [ mood | confused ] [ music | Kings of Leon- Milk ] Dear Katy, Welcome to another new page. Welcome to the leaf turning over. It is time to give this up. Why don't you shock all your friends and give each of them a punch in the face? After all, that is what they deserve, right? Well you should consider being wrong. You have all the answers, but you're consistently wrong. Where do they get you? On top of that parking garage under a full moon? In the alley on 11th and Pearl? The answers get you nowhere, not unless you know how to show them off. Everything points to you being your own problem. You are tied up in knots and holding yourself back. You're cold and complacent. So now you sit downtown and wonder where they all went. Now you stand back and every 5 minutes you'll remind yourself you have to let this go. You have to let them go. You're a mess, you're pathetic. Can't you find yourself anywhere? Maybe all you've ever done wrong is tried too hard. You put yourself on the line, and expect to stay strong. You say you don't know them, but who knows you? All those nights on the top of the world, I thought you would've figured this out. Well welcome to another beginning. Welcome to a new set of friends and a new wave of repetition. Please just let yourself say goodbye. No one wants you hurt, they just want you away from them. Take a step back, and let this go. I can hold you up but only for so long. You are too much to handle. You are so much joy and so much drama and so much generosity and guilt. You are so raw. You just care too much, you just let them do this to you. I feel sick watching you fade away. The people who know you best tell you that everyone else is wrong. Are they just protecting you? Maybe it's just too hard to accept your own responsibility. Especially when it leaves you like this. How could you let yourself fall in love with a fantasy? You've hurt more than yourself here. You left the people that cared about you for people who never will. You left them behind, like they meant nothing. But they still mean everything, and now you're stuck in a very thin alley. You really fucked up this time. You made yourself believe this was worth it, and now you've got nothing. How could you expect them to put up with your bullshit and accept you back with open arms? Like you're that amazing? You have to let them go.

(3 |take flight) [25 Mar 2005|10:00am] This lump in my throat's been there so long, it might be cancerous.

(1 |take flight) Obstacle 2 [24 Mar 2005|11:09pm] [ mood | diamonds ] [ music | something corporate- down ] A new addiction and a favorite flavor. This is me giving up.

(1 |take flight) Stealing. Stealthy. Salt. Sly. Surreal. Placemat. [19 Mar 2005|10:02pm] [ mood | bored ] [ music | pavement- ......? ] Surrealistic realization, but it's hardly real. Pavement is loud enough so that I can hear it quite clearly. John leaves for France tomorrow and I doubt I'll see him before then. So long, frenchy. I guess. Wiley's in Arizona, Erin's in Chicago, and I'm working. Working pretty hard. We were so pathetic last night. Andrew leaves for Mexico, but for some reason I'm stuck on Michigan. All those m's just make my brain hurt. And there's this rubix cube, and damn, i'm obsessed with its completion. Good luck though. That thing's tough. I'll give it that much. I'll go out for a drink. Max is trotting up the stairs as we speak. Shit. It's really not a big deal. Taro readings and too much coffee. Too much sugar in that coffee at least. No parking garage sunsets. I've got a job. I've got a place to be. I was on the bus where I lost my wallet 15 times and there was this guy talking about the snow sculpture he made, and he was showing off the sunglasses he jacked from Safeway to sell on Pearl Street for a line of coke, but all they were talking about was what they were gonna eat for dinner at the homeless shelter. He hoped for steak, but said it'd probably be nothing like it. And I couldn't stop thinking that these are the kind of people she was talking about. Reality, or something like it. Microphones and Easy Mac because I don't have enough time to cook it. I don't even feel like they're here. Like when she signed on to look for just one screen name, and was dissapointed. Condoms left in soda cans...sand between her toes. I think I found her. A green morning, mostly. A light. Distance. Delerium. Death. Destruction. Destroy. Damn. Something about that illiteration gets me going. Hahahahhahaha hahahha ah in its briefest irony. ok this is getting boring. ok this is becoming far too subtle. start screaming, please. start showing them what you're woRth.

(9 |take flight) v2.3 and a heart attack [14 Mar 2005|11:48pm] Before we met them, we called them the "Group of Attractive Men." And I doubt I could squeeze a genuine statement out of the freshest lemon of any of them. But I want some fucking lemonade.

(take flight) D [10 Mar 2005|08:48pm] Grilled asparagus is downstairs collecting dust. It was delicious. Barts was lame again. All the new music is completely heartless. Swiss cheese wouldn't come off the fork, sort of like the way I can't break this.

(take flight) Take off your shirt, I won't call you a slut. [09 Mar 2005|09:07pm] [ mood | careful ] [ music | pinback- ...? ] I threw my cell phone off the parking garage. It still works. I watched it break and reluctantly put it back together. But all it does these days is dissapoint me. And everytime I'll let it go, and everytime I hope it dies there. Searched Barts for 3 days straight, listening to everything I could find and I finally gave them a break and bought the "I can make a mess like its nobody's business" disc or something. And watching it give up on the ride home. I haven't looked in the mirror for at least an hour. Just sat at the bookstore reading Junky. And an over-buttered bagel with a conversation I think I might've forgot about. Conan O'brien re-runs until 4:30AM, and where am I? I must be missing something. Confused about this carpo-tunnel and what it means. But I don't know. Greasy hair and the shadow of a crane was enough to make today worth it. The sunset I mean. But it's days like this that remind me of all the times I'm not what I wish I could be. I must have lost myself somewhere... in all those sushi rolls and infomercials. In all those times I meant it, but never understood. You're like a magazine and I've read it 15 times. And every chance you'll smile back but I'm so fixed to routine. You're like an Amtrack train searching for it's next stop, and just hoping someone's there to add light to the lobby. She said you're wasting away. Well let me at least go with you. I mean, we all know it's worth it and everything. I don't know. I told her that I didn't worry about it but I might've lied. So I guess I'll have to look to something better if I want what I've been trying to find. Like all those times I could listen to Clinic and Adam Green. Like all those times I never liked it anyway.

(take flight) I just bought something off an infomercial [09 Mar 2005|11:09am] [ mood | mellow ] [ music | the moldy peaches- jorge regula ] I'm walking behind a man who's more scared of me than I am of him. I raced him once he crossed the street, and won. And for some reason the worst song I've ever heard is fitting the night in the best way. She said I'm losing my roots. I wish she knew why I've been doing what I do. And it might be pathetic, but it's a pathetic truth. I saw a great Conan re-run last night. Turns out they play him all night on channel 9.

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