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September 23rd, 2005

04:06 pm
Ah you guys seem a litte too intense. I don't write as often as I would like to so chances are I will quickly no longer be here, but...

Bite your tongue
Let the blood flow over your lips
Do not sing the song they have sung
Keep your silence as defience runs down your chin and drips
Like the blood run from those who seek to enslave you
Do not let them tell you that you are wrong
Sing the words that you know to be ture
Sing your own song

you'll never know how the images have haunted me
you'll never know how much they hurt me to see
you'll never know how far I've fallen
you'll never know how close my demons circle within
you'll never know what you've done
you'll never know how far I've come
you'll never know that I feel so dead
you'll never know what is going on in my head
you'll never know that I'm a fish out of water
you'll never know that I'm the lamb you've sent to the slaughter
you'll never know the things I've had to deny
you'll never know how hard I had to try
you'll never know what I've wanted to do
you'll never know what I've lost because of you
you'll never know why
you'll never know that I wanted to die
you'll never know what surfaces when I try to sleep at night
you'll never know the wrongs I can't set right
you'll never know

I would do the LJ cut thing but I don't know how, if someone would be willing to fill me in...it would be appericated.

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June 16th, 2004

01:24 am - terrible.
Sunlight shot through the living room and profiled the
venetian blinds in an amber hue.
Quite an unsettling contrast to the gore of one Mr.
Richard Victim - an unfortunate
old man with an unfortunately well suited last name.
He was a mess of utilitarian practicality and one size
too large for the pinstripes that
defined him.
I hated him.
l loved him.
I ended him.

The most common downfall for almost all "failed"
killers is the sense of attachment between the
assailent and his or her work. This attachment is the
result of yet another commonality within the criminal
community: narcissism. Because so many killers are
sticklers for both complacency and pomposity, the
purity of their trade is tarnished. The destroyer
becomes a slave to his or her own device. A sense of
preciousness sets in that disarms the creative freedom
naturally bestowed upon a true destroyer of life. The
killer disreguards the notion of allowing the work to
speak for itself and instead allows it to take the
place of conception. The most apprehensible and
dangerous weapon is the latitute of the human
imagination and when that latitude is taken over by
self-indulgence there is nothing left.

On my way home from work,
every day,
I make sure to stop by Arthur's bakery.
I order a nice white cake with some nice flowers on
top, they are pink.
I make the guy behind the counter write "Happy
Birthday to Donnie" on it.
Donnie is my name, but it's not my birthday.
I put it in the car, in the passenger seat where your
body used to sit.
I pour a little Jack Daniels on my steel baseball bat,
I make it nice and shiny,
I take it to the old baseball field, and I smash the
Every day.
I know I am not going too far.
I am the master now.

My Friend Frank is bi-polar. Sometimes he acts like
Dan Marino's high school protege and sometimes he acts
like Aristotle and Charlie Manson's lovechild.

o for revenge, sweet to the tongue,
retribution, temptation, lust, tribulation.
enter now vengeance, sweet to the eye,
where a good blade finds a good friend.
a crack in the floor is to my conscience,
as an apple is to an orange, sweet to the tongue.
but blood tastes of copper, vengeance is sweeter.
o for the demise of a villain.

The judicial consequences that go hand in hand with
the results of my actions
are of no concern to me.
These men. These - creatures.
They actually believe that the printed word of their
ancestors can stop me.
The law?
There is more blood in their ink than their hearts.

Hi is Donnie home?
-This is he.
Hi Donnie, it's Richard, how are you?
-I'm sick.
I see, well this is the second day in a row that
you've been absent from the office.
-I know.
Donnie, are you familiar with this company's insurance
and attendance policies?
-Are you?
What is this Donnie? Have you been to the doctor yet?
Listen, the board is on my ass to fire you.
Why do you think Donnie? Your productivity has been
at a minimum, you
haven't been to work in two days, you haven't called
me to explain
yourself, no doctor visits and no insurance claims -
let alone the fact that we haven't fucked in at least
a week.
-You're a married man Mr. Victim.
That's it you god damned psycho, don't come back. The
last thing this company
needs is a nutcase handling our confidentiality
-What about us?
Donnie I swear to god if you speak one word to anyone
about us I will come
to your house and kill you. I'm a married man, I have
children, and I'm not gay.

Frank uttered assertively, "Shut the fuck up Donnie."
"I just need someone to read my poetry Frank"
"No one wants to read that shit man, it's fucking
Frank's eyes darted like he was trying to speed read
the mirror in front of him
"Anyways, check this out - I'm supposed to meet this
girl here tonight" he said.
"What does she do?"
"Get a load of this, she's an olympian"
"That sounds interesting."
"You better believe it man. Bronze medal for swimming
or some shit. By the end
of tonight I'm gonna get some mouth to mouth, on my
dick. BOOYA!"

On my way back home this evening I saw a cat get hit
by a car.
It was alive.
It's movements following the collision were so
sporadic and fluid.
It was dancing.
On my way back home this evening I was bitten by a
I killed it for stealing my blood.
I was dancing.

I am going to kill Richard Victim tonight.
First I am going to remove his eyelids.
Second I am going to remove his legs.
Third I am going to remove his genitalia.
Fourth I am going to remove his heart.
Fifth I am going to watch the sun set.
sixth... sixth...

Do you want to read my poetry?
Why not?
You're scary, leave me alone.
My teeth are too sharp.

It is imperative that I am given a chance to relay the
history of my process through the role models, ideas,
and chemicals that have preceeded and inspired me
(dare i say that have shaped me). In saying that, one
must understand that I truly feel that I am not
allowed to speak about my own work, because I feel
that I am a stranger to it. Looking quite literally
at my work, it can mean everything and it can mean
nothing. My murderous hand is a contraption set aside
for left brain thinkers, punks, sluts, upstanding
businessmen, politcians, bums, jocks, nerds,
cheerleaders, bookworms, couch potatoes, hipsters,
assholes, bitches, bastards, and (the collective) you.
I am a product of the human race and because of that
I am exposed to life, which naturally is beyond my
control. In being constantly and im-permissively
exposed to such an abrasive and confusing experience,
I as a human am instinctively inclined to ascertain
meaning through creative expression. So what does
this say about the relationship between my work and
me? It is the product of everything around me and I
am nothing but the means through which it is expressed
(hence the separation that I feel from it). My work
exists outside of me not because I exist outside of
myself, but because history, inspiration, creation,
destruction, and life in general exists without me. I
am the martyr. I am innocence defined. I am taking

"Be the change you want to see in the world." -
Mohandas Gandhi.

I did it.
I killed Richard Victim.
I thought that there was no feeling comparable to the
one you get after killing a man.
Then Donnie came in through a window.
I did it again.
There is no feeling comparable to that which proceeds
the killing of lovers.
I have a date tonight. I can't wait.

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March 27th, 2004

12:10 pm - "Amy" Short Story
Read more...Collapse )

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August 3rd, 2003

10:05 am - "the fish can eat a lion, the fish can eat a lion, the fish can eat a lion, the fish can eat a lion"
out of focus
help with your focus
When you think about it--

the virgin will spend some of the day in the water
even if there are crabs
and my evil twin

when i have regrets i'm at the bar
the oxygen bar

i'm concentrated with regrets
know thyself but i want to know two people
the scales of karma will turn tears into
a new designer drug

the archer wanted to bring him home
but kill with bare hands
i said
love with your bare hands
in the light
out of focus

ram a new designer drug to test market the virgin
fully know thyself what a load of bullshite

my evil twin
will love with your bear heart carrier

the water can drown you and overwhelm you
everything is larger than it appears
out of focus

got a sting of the scorpion
the morning blend
the coffee wasn't that strong
so i ate my evil twin

an appetite for the supernatural
an unsolvable mystery
the fish can eat a lion
robert stack once affirm
godet! godet! godet!
Current Mood: optimisticoptimistic
Current Music: art of noise "moments in love"

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August 1st, 2003

09:20 am - "a man woman"
we're not that far from reality
the sanctity of
your hellish vision
of humanity

who's a sinner that's tolerant
theocracy should take the final leap

highly likely and highly moral
DC bathed in kerosene

we'll codify the violence for children

orthodoxy bit by proxy
didn't feel love
but she said he had an oxy

vatican converted into a slaughterhouse
because it's a "moral duty"

highly likely and highly moral
DC bathed in kerosene

the laws are on the books and i'm running
out of toilet paper
Current Mood: cynicalcynical
Current Music: dead kennedy's "in god we trust"

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July 30th, 2003

09:32 pm - "pfizer, the prizer, the comedy & the man with no name"
excuse me while i fold the freeway in half
take a bath in smog and asphalt
inhale a broth of age
and hair that's falling out
excuse me while i do it the old fashioned way

repulse me as you clean the bidet with your toothbrush
and your teeth
shave off bits of my skin
with your foreboding words of rot, reek
fold the freeway in half the rage, half the time

abuse me as i were the last option
the last starfighter
the last underdog boxer
you got a fork in the road
and we know who's tossing the salad

pardon me as i run you over
from a memory
pardon me as i wipe this slate clean
it will take long
but i've got a big heart and a bigger bucket of soap
drop it and i'll fucking laugh
instead of gloat
drop it and i'll fucking cry
instead of gloat
love it
but i have to lie
instead of gloat

i had a reason and an answer once
i had a decision and a fault at once
but now we're on a different line
now we're doing different times, different lines
blinding the able with flashing lights
Current Mood: depresseddepressed
Current Music: the smiths "louder than bombs"

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July 25th, 2003

11:21 pm - mirrors that don't break
"mirrors that don't break"

mirrors that don't break
give pulmonary help
with glucose
goat's head
dna trade day was a mime's parade

mirrors that don't break
won't ache

i put the patent out for the seals
then shave the formula in the trees
i got the electrolytes on standby
a priest's pager and a case of breath mints

mirrors that don't brake
looks like the turtle will even place

for the artery we are having a party
sending it home with bags of strychnine

walking distance might make us all pissed
but i'll sell your smile
and bottle your kiss
on mirrors that don't brake

mirrors that don't break

mirrors that don't break

on mirrors that don't break

mirrors that don't break
mirrors that don't break
mirrors that don't break
Current Mood: there is no mood
Current Music: elton john "i'm still standing"

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10:13 am - your day is ending fast and your life is ending faster
"mr. witless"

mr. witless
we came to give you crowd protection
under the good will
of those unseated

mr. witless
we got to get you away from
the society ones, Now!
mr. witless
the pentagram you were is a gram above a share

mt. witless
got you by a short curly hair trigger
and i figure
that the eights will feel like weights

missus witless
god's got the door
and he's hiding behind your tongue
when you're ready
to leash the pigs from the sky

mother witless
wasn't breast fed now all her kids
are tit-less
we were raised to drink radiation
from a can of carbonation

father witless
mr. your son
got honorable mention
and how we witness
for our own seclusion

mr. witless got the black hand
mr. witless got the sealed plan
you can't see it
but you wouldn't need to

mr. witless
all of our lives are in (parentheses)
and now the fan hits
works like it did before the caveman

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July 16th, 2003

03:43 pm - happy reading and god bless america...or else!
Current Music: dj cheb i sabbah

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July 12th, 2003

12:55 am - the last day i got stoned
social Darwinism
can i put some sort
of take-out order

on you

elephants & jack-asses
all look the same
on the last day i got stoned
i told wold blitzer
almost everything
(but you'll have to pay a pretty penny for the hardback)

if Mohammed were a wrestler
he'd be Mohammed the Mangler

that's M for masturbation
O for get an original idea

H as in hysterical heretic

A is for the asshole
[i can't understand you]

that's M for Masochistic, M to murder
my children

everyday it's Ok with me

because D is for the dawn

&we've been doing it long before you

i tried to make amends
with the first person
who i thought i was in love with

i wrote a letter in first person
it was a mess
but my lungs got the best of the
rough drafts

& all that kills me is the pain
of modern medicine

the only thing that kills me
is what the FDA lets in

to the house
to stay on the couch
& eat all the food

Mozarella is stella
for mechanics on holiday
this goes out to all our uncles
because in the terrible end (the end)
we're all

be all
end all
the all fucking cousins

I told Mr. Blitzer
while I was on the shitter
(on the last day I got stoned)

what you need live feed
for the battle of small talk
chitter chatter
(on the last day i got stoned)

if you want to be proud & stand tall
be called an American
be called a fool
(on the last day i got stoned)

tell Gandhi
he's a fag pussy cunt
he must punt
for the visiting team
(on the last day i got stoned)

give peace a chance-well,
we tried & we did
we lied & we bid
we fried & we hid
we warned all of our friends
we warned all of our friends

& said fuck all to our neighbors
we never knew you anyway
(on the last day i got stoned)

California dreaming
I'm thinking
& I'm also forgetting
(on the last day i got stoned)

saw a flash
or thought
that maybe I can't think
too hard

I'll see a flash

(on the last day i got stoned)

fuck the drought
fuck the drought
& bring on the imports!

(on the last day i got stoned)
Current Mood: lonelylonely
Current Music: haujobb "polarity"

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