Time to watch through broken sleep,
this carousel of thoughtful stories.
The guilty guise of dreams gives
hope to narratives not mandatory.

Girls to conquer, girls to will,
girls to talk to, girls to thrill.
Lust is such a faithful liar.
Guess I'll be fire by right.
I know just one thing of desire -
death elevates the thing to heights.

A dirty game, a dirty answer.
Dirty girls in detailed rooms.
The ribbons, they all taste like summer,
that silver sweat sinks pink balloons.
The snow's so cold it broke the meter,
dripping on my skin like tweezers,
Try to peel the stitches out,
too dependent, skin's too devout.

Her prose promised like prayer recitals
above their heads is empty air.
The boy in back, a grim reminder,
how many other lost came there.
Give up your Adderall, I'm too clean,
though I think my eyes are red.
Give me Xanax, give me Codeine.
I deem what saves me keeps me dead.

Suddenly it's paint by color.
What's your name then
what's your number?
The nomad narcissist still selling deals;
I'll pay the price now, any offer.

Sink and swim, you purge and swallow,
drink to dream, dream to remember.
Forget the yellow curls of yesteryear.
Endless embers won't allow that yet,
Though I am but one to forgive
I'm not the one that you forget.
Now that everything is sacred,
there's just nothing left to follow.
Let's slice the brakes on my new old Volvo.
What else can I shed to bet?

It's too much trouble now to toil
against this town, against her soil.
She left with an Irish goodbye,
with vitriol so long and loyal.
And now a thousand burning sundays
drown me with a toasting clink.
Mixed up like so much blood and oil.
We should have buried her in ink.

A thousand ghosts to turn your gaze,
a thousand minds within one eye.
I close your thought for seconds
but you beckon so why should I try?
All this carnal arsenal of rethought sin
and lovers lent
to call the cardinal home to rest
and die before it's time for rent.

Happy tears, the day is aching,
you're waiting there inside the bed,
the child to become a lover to
become something else instead.
The empty shed of tattered tin,
they kept your pictures buried in,
The sun has nothing on your eyes,
this voodoo doll is lacking pins.

What's yours?

I have utterly no idea what I'm doing. Haha. All of my training has been basically centered around resistance training. But here's how I started to focus myself...

A gym is just a playground.

There are a bunch of big toys to play on but if you don't know what the hell you're doing, you'll probably get injured. You know, like on a playground.

Since I only have a pair of steel-toed boots right now (yeah, haven't been hitting the treadmill [the noise really pisses people off and I found out boots aren't actually allowed]) I've mostly just been... figuring out what all these machines do. It's mad! They do damn near everything! I'm not even joking right now - I had no idea that this much fitness equipment existed.

So, maybe this is a general gym forum, I guess. Do you hit the gym, and if so, how frequently? Any particular workout routines?

Always love to hear about the lives of others.

Also, I'm totally working on getting some shoes I should be running in.

I was actually reading and watching some stuff on the principles of a multiverse theory and how it corresponds with the idea of predetermination in time travel and also the "grandfather paradox".

Don't tell anyone, but I'm sticking with the multiverse.

Also, I apparently talk in my sleep and say some crazy shi~ sometimes.

'There are two ways of saying that - the kind way and the way you just said it.' - Mad Men

If you care - represent yourself accurately and be honest.

If you don't really care - pick up on subtle social cues the other person is sending and then adjust your behavior based on these.

Knives.
Redheads.
Redheads with knives.

*snicker*

Purgatory

'Damn it... That was a really nice gun.'

Everything's more fun out of context, right?

Yup. I like candid, close conversations at parties. More than four people that I don't know and it's still cool, but after that... it feels more like I'm orating than celebrating.

Actually, you can just walk up to a woman and politely ask if she wants to have sex with you.

Everyone likes a bit of nuance and mystery though, so I don't suggest this approach.

First Christmas without you, little brother. Hope there's something better past the gate. Cheers, kid.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nabO_UXb6MM



"This is not my life.

It's just a fond farewell to a friend."

“We need to make books cool again. If you go home with somebody and they don't have books, don't **** them.” - John Waters

Some have wanted to do so; it really depends where in my body you want to stab me.

Getting stabbed is... actually somewhat unpleasant. Haha.

I think I'm going to be done here soon.