I need you to be the strength of widows and sole...
So my left knee is fucked up.
Bending it is a matter of sharp pain and I can forget about doing squats and other leg-related exercises this week. I was hoping to increase my 810lb. leg press, too. At least my upper body still functions. The girl next to me has “SEX” tattooed on her wrist and this other guy looks like the Situation. Also, Axe to Fall is a mean workout album.
She's my Rushmore,
mon Arc de Triomphe.
That was about as phenomenal as I expected it to...
I've seen my share of clowns opening up before,
but I don’t even know what’s going on right now. It’s like the Aristocats soundtrack meets Whitechapel fronted by a coked-up Tara Anderson. “I’m going to piss on your face!” Okay.
I fucking hate you so much right now
yet I’m chuckling at everything you do. Your jokes aren’t funny. Why am I laughing at them? Sit arrogantly at the head of the dinner table while you still can, act like the man of the house while you believe you still have balls, and show your cheeky smile with pride before it’s goes toothless. I’ve found your Achilles tendon, father. That’s why I’m smiling too,...
… and I’m back to my regular midnight grin. I might have written in this too much this week.
This is the part where I break out into panic and suddenly I’m not so invincible anymore. Suffocated by academic expectations, this semester truly is a repeat of last year, almost Sons of Liberty style… only this time around I can still see a ray of hope, whereas 12 months ago I was completely resigned. Pull yourself together, bromar. You can’t fuck it up just now, even though...
I swear to God, you miserable fuck
Just because I normally block your voice out with my earbuds doesn’t mean I’m not listening in this time. The female voice on the phone says it all, along with the sleazy tone in your speech. Do I pull my headphones out to ask who that was on the phone and see your heart stop or do I just sit and wait to hear the glass shatter in a couple of weeks? I don’t feel anger. I should...
As the sea of departing faces draws closer, the members of that crowd who are unamused and jaded realize that their only aspirations are to love and be loved. The fortunate ones see everything else as worthless. They proudly bear the mark of locking themselves up in automobiles, vivid walls, and fields far away from the usual filth that pollutes their lives. Their stories of how they practice love...
Under the Weeping Moon.
Every night I force my eyes shut, I grin uncontrollably, and random lyrics from songs whose names I can’t remember at the moment (that kills me) go through my head. I don’t know when my body shuts off, or how I manage to sleep at all. Before I know it, the fuckass Trance ringtone I set as the alarm goes off and I’m dragging myself to the shower, but I wouldn’t trade this...
Losing patience comes easily and grinding my teeth becomes a daily task. My breath hastens and I feel a certain pressure on my chest that tells me to ravage everything in sight (you especially), but alas - that’s not a gentleman’s sport.
Welcome. This is a tool of self-destruction and regret; a device for deception, a refuge from rejection and indifference. The initial thought is impulsive and I run to pursue. Looking down disgusts me and after the deployment of what could have been a legacy, I become conscious of who the eyes and voices in my mind belonged to. They have no place in this maelstrom. Just because I’m fucked...
Every cross that you bear grows another grave.
My hand still hurts from Friday and I want to go to New York. I’m picking up the new Dark Tranquillity album sometime after school today and am hyped for Dillinger later this month.
No entiendo el arte contemporanea. El otro dia, fui a un museo y una de las...
I stopped at Five Guys after the film. I’ve...