i'm stuck in the TARDIS, trapped in hyperspace

sheer and utter

tonight i saw i falling star
and i made a wish.
i wished that it's next life
would be much better than being
a piece of icerock floating around space.

but then i envied it.
i want my life to be like it.
and leaving the people wanting more more more.

'cos when i die
i'll burn brighter than the sun
and then i've only begun.


from poisoned cloud to poisoned wharf, what a nasty surprise

and i have an enemy in this town
a first to say the least
at least that i know of.

all others;
please form a line to the left
an operator will be with you shortly.

it's been quite some time that i've been in a fight.
i know for a fact i wouldn't do well in one.
but i get dirty though.
i'll kick a motherfucker in his nuttz if it comes down to it.

fuck fighting.
does it prove anything?
i suppose it proves your lack of brain capacity to talk something out.
threats will accomplish nothing.
kick my ass
i'll take it with a smile
and still talk shit.

it was way over a year ago.
like you never screwed someone over before.
what goes around comes around.
it's called karma
and i'll take a bloody nose for it.



And the watermelon smiles on her sunshine dress
With the sticky feet patter and a powerkiss
On a window
In the morning
It was cool breeze & Christmas
Like a shock trip stall
In the super hero ball
With the wishy wish eyes and the flowers on the wall
It’s a grand thing
A memory
The magic in her eyes when she’s killing me

And you said it all with your smile
You coaxed me on with your whiles

And you wakeup in the corner with a grinny grin grin
And a super love friend
My eyeliner teaser
And how do I do I do
I need you
They all know it’s true

You quote another wink while I’m tripping in the sink
With a quick give
A drink
As I’m dancing on the brink
Of a phone call
The after all
The waiting on the Queen in the last stall

I’m fine anway
Your love and my play
Can anybody tell me why I
Should sing a watermelon love song

You touch it on the lips with a quick slip kiss
And the tragic comes unzipped
As you shoot it from the hip
Of a happy song
A symphony
A seven story drop of gravity


i swore to god i would never turn into you, i'm getting closer, all the time

and down.

he used to be such a happy child
with a sparkle in his eyes
and a look on his face like he was ready to take on the world
one lesson at a time.

now he just looks in the mirror
so he can tell himself it's allright
and remember to breathe.

the only lasting thing from this night
is how bad my nose burns
and how much i hate the things i love.

drop down and get your eagle on, girl.


and then i'll get to you, and teach you how to get to purest hell

20 minutes.
a lot of seconds.
and some steroid fem on TBN.
praise jesus
your voice is deeper than the black guys.

my phsyique
comparable to that of a junkie
but blatanly anorexic.
good song.

i used to be fat
and i got a lot of shit for that.
then i got skinny
145 lbs.
and i get a lot of shit for that.
but muscles scare me.

does seeing yuor skeleton scare you so much?
when have you become
so afraid
of what's inside?
even now i still want to be smaller.
i'd even cut flesh away
'cos there's a lot to lose.

self destruction is
self improvement
as long as it's done in style.

can you suck it with a smile?

another bad creation
a child lost in defecation
a girl lost in masturbation
a gown man lost in frustration
a little boy finds imagination.

oohp, laundry's done.


a little boys smile, it'll all be well

"cross my heart
hope to die"
that was the greatest
the greatest and best lie

first there was acid
then cocaine
then crack and ecstacy.
i was born in the middle of the 80s.
the middle of heaven and hell.
the midwest could only have me for 2 days.
'cos only hell could have me forever.

when i die
i want white lillies
and purple roses
for my bed.
i want to smell like heaven
while i'm rotting in hell.

if i wore blue eyeshadow,
masscarred eyes,
and a blonde wig...
would i be a bombshell?
or a swell bomb?

my world begins at the exit sign
my world ends when yours begins.
my world is where your dreams are made.
my world is where the memories fade.

i love my silent room.
peering out over the world
like i'm some god.
well i am.
just spelt backwards.

woof motherfuckers.

so the future is supposed to be like this:
flying cars
1000 storey buildings
robot maids
2 kids
and a wife that spends your money
while you slave away
at a cog factory.

but this is how the future turned out to be:
it's cheaper to fly than to drive
100 storey buildings get hit by planes
an alien maid from tijuana
a slut daughter and a crackhead son
a bitch wife that runs you over
for having an affair
because she wasn't fucking.

at least i have pictures to remind me
that once i was actually happy with the world
ah, the dreams of a child
destroyed by the world
which he had no choice to be born in.
the humanity
oh the humanity.


every letter counts
lke yu evn kno wat im tryn 2 say.
i'll spell it out for you.
a l l i d o i c a n s t i l l f e e l y o u n u m b a l l t h r o u g h i c a n s t i l l f e e l y o u h e a r y o u r c a l l u n d e r n e a t h i t a l l k i l l m y b r a i n y e t y o u s t i l l r e m a i n c r u c i f i e d a f t e r a l l i ' v e d i e d a f t e r a l l i ' v e t r i e d y o u a r e s t i l l i n s i d e a l l i d o i c a n s t i l l f e e l y o u y o u r e m a i n i a m s t a i n e d.

i think i forgot a z.


and this just feels like spinning plates

ok, sign off...
ta ta toodles
a gap-toothed bookshelf
missing an idol
and evil.
if only it were as easy as pressing a button.
oh wait.
it is.
could i make things right
if i painted you a pretty picture
that spoke over a thousand words
and just one could end this fight?
oh you're not reading this?


please forget the words that i just blurted out, it wasn't me, it was a strange and creeping doubt

the fuck was i thinking when i was writing that last one? i mean, i know what i was writing but i don't know what i was trying to get through. i think maybe that i don't like that feeling like i'm losing a friend.
this is just a shitty way to go about things.

between how it is and how it should be

nic, r u pist?
i didn't mean to do it intentionally.
but in a way i meant to do it.
i wish you would think over your friendships more.
and remember that some people feel
stronger than others.
it meant a lot to me
when you said the word "soulmate".
even the word "free"
couldn't make me feel as great.
so if you're reading this or not
even though you said you wouldn't.
i'm just being sincere
which seems like something you couldn't.
tell me how you feel.
tear my head off.
take it all out on me.
then brush your hair.
neither of us still doesn't care.
i don't know what feel.
i don't know what is real.
all i know is
i still can't close the deal.


your body's spent, my body's rent

and again
too much to drink.
too drunk.
too spent.
and a cheese n bacon burrito
with beer.

did she read this?
did she even get what i meant.

sometimes i feel like a douche for wandering around
and not talking to my friend online.
if i had a cell fone i'd leave that number.
if i had a cell.

imprison me again motherfucker.

1 5 4 1 6 1 7 9 7 1 9
that's all you need to know.

popcorn stuck in my teeth.
like the last words she said.

i wish she was online.
so i could send her a poem of mine.
direct connect.
direct regret.

roses are red
violets are blue
i hate you
and i hope you do too.

money doesn't grow on trees.
love doesn't exist.
and you'll get your answer
as long as you persist.

do you like this side of me?
oh so poetic.
with such rhetoric
that it makes me sick.

sometimes i miss my childhood.
sometimes i forget to be good.
sometimes i think of when we were pure.
sometimes i remember that we weren't so sure.

my god is bigger than your god.
my dad can beat your up dad.
my dog is whiter than yours.
100 billion dollars later and there are still no cures.

i'll die of cancer
and there will still be no answer.

abba cadabba.


it must be hard with your head on backwards

she told me that she thinks i blame everyone else for my problems.
she was partially right.
and it partially pist me off.

i blame a select few.

first there's god
for even concieving life.

then lori
for being a teenage dirtbag.

mom & dad
for loving me

then there's those that were all talk and no do.
is your highest form
of flattery.

but maybe you're right.
maybe i don't blame myself enough
for how things are.
but just know this.
i blame myself
for letting me
come this far
with nothing to show
but scars.

like this is going to matter anyways.
i already tried making you happy.
maybe not hard enough.
but at least i tried.


we could dance dance dance through the fire

yes, i thoroughly ENJOYED getting a reaction out of you.

it was just a bunch of words.
in a chatoic order.
that made me feel calm.

with eye boogers.

contacts burn if you leave them in overnight
or so he said.

shut up stupid.
you can't even copy your own style.
find someone else to rip-off
'cos you obviously
don't know
a thing.

maybe i should just write normal again.
maybe not.


oh 8 9 8 double oh 7

how am i supposed to feel the next day when i can't remember the day before?

how am i supposed to feel when no one even listens?

i don't give a FUCK if you think you listen to me or care about me, 'cos you don't, and you never did. you just said you did to make me feel better.

i like how you make me feel.

a pig in a cage on antibiotics.

20 years from now none of this will matter.

20 years from now i'll be dead for over 10 years.

how old do you feel now you whiney fuck?

like i'm 80.

like i have just one last breath.

and i'd use it to exhale one last bong hit.


what do you want from me?

the artist?
the musician?
the writer?
the high school drop-out?
the boy with the thorn in his side?
peter pan hitting puberty?

it's the coming of age, where we come with age.

so poetic.
such a fag.
such a poser.
such a fucking waste of talent.
or a talented waste?

you be the judge.
you be the decider.
please please please be my provider.

be the one i wake up next to.
be the first thing i see.
be something that i could strive to be.
be anything but you.

stop standing in doorways.
stop talking with your mouth full of foot.
stop being such a girl.
stop being such a boy.

if i were you i'd shoot myself.

if you were me you'd be god.

if i was god i'd be dead.

if i'm dead you're dead
and i still need to get head.

from the homeless tramp with food stamps.
and a confetti wig.
because the parade made her feel like a queen.
and nothing is ever what it seems.

you're such a fag chris.
you can't even act like you know what you're doing.

no i'm not, i'm the mirror.

you're the enemy.

you're the problem.

you're the answer.

she's the question.
she's the reason you're like this.

talking to yourself.
mumbling in the dark.
leave it to beaver when you have the fever.

emo is the new goth.
goth is the old emo.
both suck regardless.
of age.
of race.
of a race to age.

when you hate music more than yourself,
you know you've gone awry.
you've gone to shits.
you've gone to your room.

with no light.
with no kite.
with no wind to tell me what to do.

my mommy told me to not look into the sun.
she doesn't want me to know who my father is.
she doesn't like him.
she likes nuclear bombs.
and butterflies.
with pink wings.
and bullet-bomb bodies.

the worms will come for you big boots.

when all of your wishes are granted
many of your dreams
will be

you remember the things that don't matter.
you don't remember anything.

nothing matters and everyone cares.

like i was born on sunday.
in the alley.
outside of an abortion clinic.
my mom cried when i was born.
i cried when i was born.
19 years later i realize what we were crying about.


little old me.

as petrified reptile.
in the amber resin of your ageless words.

i'm going to hell only because my friends are there.
i'm going to hell because satan never nailed his son to a cross.
he nailed me to a bed.
and let her rape me.
she smelled nice.
like dead flowers.
on a newborn baby.


ghetto-booty bitches only get so much of a rise out of me.
watching you makes me hard.
watching you ignore me makes me cum.
watching you watch me scares me.
why are you looking at me?
who are you looking for?

tyler's not here, he's gone away.

vagina in a funny word.
penis is almost as funny.
put them together
and you have vanis.
you're only love.
and drunk on your own blood an semen.

200 proof grain bloodemen.
so pure that your nose is already hurting.
so good that you want it so bad that you already got it and still need it.

look in the mirror.
count to 10.
and that's 10 seconds gone from your life.
looking at yourself.
like you're something special.



i was a feind before i became a teen

sooooo, long time no post.

i had a job at a place called iSKY for a few weeks, then i quit 'cos it's boring.

i'm looking for a job as a prep cook around town. mcgraths fish house is the #1 potential.

i got approved for a credit card. :-D

in october i'm going to portland. i'm still somewhat indecisive about what to do for school.

nicole is being weird. wtf is up with that?