January 2010
64 posts
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i just had an 80’s impulse.
bear with me.
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i remember when drawing birds would be an emulation of the mcdonald’s logo.
when our parent’s still liked us.
when laws never seemed relevant.
when road trips were adventures at the grocery store while sitting under the food 4 less basket.
i remember loving a lot more.
trusting schoolyard kids with my deepest...
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have you ever been angry at someone because you feel like they have everything you deserve to have?
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For Christ’s sake, let me have my moment of madness!
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so today i went to fresh n easy.
instead of buying organic pizza and some cucumbers, i randomly bought my first car along the way.
i’m kind of confused and stoked at the same time.
today was a random day.
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i kind of just bought this satchel bag for 24 cents at a thrift store.
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my days are so long sometimes.
so strenuous.
so empty.
so many choices i’ve made.
poor choice of words.
so many moments that haunt me.
no one can really live in the past.
the past has lead to our present which will innevitably effect our future.
you can’t blame me for “living in the past” when...
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i need to reach the point in my life where i can lay down on my bed and retrace every single moment in my life that ever left me upset.
every argument.
every breakup.
every insult.
every idiotic person who screwed me over.
every moment i screwed myself over.
every embarassment.
every set back.
every bad move.
ever...
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“Stop being nice to the wrong people. Not everyone deserves your empathy. We’re all big boys and girls. We can make our own way. Stop letting people use you. STOP IT.
STOP IT RIGHT FUCKING NOW.”
A reminder to myself.
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I wish I could make an impression deep enough to penetrate your mind and invade your private thoughts.
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Dear children, theres’s a storm a brewin.
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I miss being young and being able to use my mind as a means of escape.
Now that I’m older, i feel like my head has all these mental obstacles to get through just so I can make myself feel detached from my problems.
This is probably why people become addicts.
...
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I have a bad habit of not wanting to clump photos together on my tumblr, so i end up sitting down to type a blog to seperate the photos with words.
Sometimes I have a surge of inspiration.
Sometimes I don’t.
Right now I don’t.
But at least I have the word seperation I wanted.
...
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monsters under my bed.
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I wonder if I’ll live to be 68 to see the next halley’s comet…
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Old photo of Rayven that I love. Minimalistic. Yet affective.
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Dark room.
One bulb hanging from the center of the ceiling, dangling like a uvula in the back of the throat.
Streams in the Desert- Hope for a Hurting Heart.
Calming cover, white pages, hand written ink imprints:
Janurary 2007
To my friend Brenda Lee,
For whom I am eternally greatful for each day that we share in this...
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i’m trying so damn hard. true story.
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i want to stop, but it’s just like i can’t.
somehow i feel like if i could get away, i could detach myself from the need.
i’m ashamed of myself and embarassed i even keep trying.
nothing has worked for me.
i go through these phases where i think i’ll be ok and i think i have it together, but i...
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i have this thing…for laundro-mats.
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Most of the people who dislike me, dislike themselves even more.
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sometimes i feel like making a huge alteration in my life. something that makes an impact and gives me a new identity. i just want to shave my head or starve myself. pierce myself or ink myself. change my name or start going by my middle one.
then i stop and realize that these are all vanity alterations and the issues within...
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i stood up from your bed. my knees were shakey. i wanted to play it off cool. with the feeling of warmth rushing towards my tearducts like white water rivers, i felt myself losing it.
you told me i didn’t have to leave. you said the decision was final, but we could still talk.
i just didn’t want to. i wanted to...
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i’ve decided that no matter who you are or what sexual orientation you are, you just want to bone ash stymest.
and this is very, very ok.
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