Dear Baby Jesus

It hurts, the things done and the things not forgotten. Once, and it's over. Is there a new hope? God, I hope.

It would be comical to ask for a second chance, but God ... God I need it.

Here's my heart.

World Without End. Words fall short to hope again. How beautiful. How vast Your love is ... new forever.

World Without End.

Oh jebus.

i have a song thumping in the background of my mind and all i can help but do is sulk. silence is so nice. solitude is even better. it'd be great to hide away for a couple days. be lost in a city and just not think. i need some new music to come and sweep me off my feet. it'll give me an obsession to tie me over till another time.

1, 2, 3, 4

Art Star

and you owe me Life

sitting. silent. stuck. stranded. sorry.

you are sound. electricity. blood.

i am the solitude that goes against you.

the quiet. where i dream, sleep, wander.

grateful, satisfied. i should be.

all my friends. i've returned.

rescue me from danger. precious blood.

i did everything.

Rebel of Heaven

There's no joy in living.

Don't listen at all. Go on. Enjoy. It's personal, and that's the way it should be.

It can't be anything more than that, or anything less. I'm not alone. And I would idiotic to think that I am. I don't want anything in return ... or rather anything at all.

You're giving all and getting none.

It's a new beginning, and you thought you lost. Loss. It's a loss. But you won?

I've got to learn a little happy along the way.

Pleading ignorance.

Different

I think You and I are pretty different. Having different agendas, You coming from one with serious ambitions and mine with the complete inability to meet on the same plane.

I live in myself and have no ability to leave that existence.

Open up Your mind and see like me.

No need to complicate Our time.

Begging to be free. Living in the past, hoping for the future, forgetting the present.

Love. Open up and find Love.

All the glory that the Lord has made

Things will end before they start.

The Beast will arrive in time.

Such a shame I cannot get over this.

I will try, I will try, I will try.

And I close my eyes, and I close my mind.

I see the fire, I see the end. But I'm not afraid to die.

Well Shit.

Shit shit shit.

I have no idea how my life thus far has led me to this place. Gah.

Complaining blogs are probably the only solution to my problem.

Hope?

Nah.

"Hope has come. You are safe"

Some song.

"And it makes me cry"

Some tears of joy.

"Soon you'll be okay"

Some salvation.

Lo siento

I don't know what my posts are about ... I stay up later than I should and write four to five sentences without processing and then go to bed. 

There shouldn't be any need for worry.  It's just a shitty kind of outlet.  Listen to a bunch of music and write weird incoherent thoughts. 

Like tonight, I can't stop listening to Johnny Cash's cover of Hurt. 

I'll spare the mumbling anecdotes (not really anecdotes but whatever) tonight.  

He wasn't scared.  His empire of dust.

G'night. 

King of the land

Running through the halls he jumped ... not landing on his feet but falling through the deep surface that was the structure of his school.

He can't make it out alive anymore ... it's past the point of no return.  

This disturbing sense of comfort has settled over his body.  Knowingly and willingly walking forward into the pits of his dismantling.  

He presses on ... eagerly awaiting to see what is at his end.

That's when you need someone

Walking out the door, it came to him ... that all the reality that he formally believed in had been nothing but a lucid dream that was meant for seeing and not feeling.  With a smile upon his face, he closed the door and entered his true reality ... the life he had not know before.  It was bizarre.  It was strange, but it was great.  Bouncing from stepping stone to stepping stone, he could count the oxygen molecules he breathed in and out.  Bouncing from here to there and back again ... life seemed fresh.  Completely illogical, but if it was reality then it has to be logical.  Landing in front of the 73 floor building with absolutely no distinct characteristics ... he slammed open the doors and entered into a florescent multicolored seizure room of electronic dance music.  No one was dancing like he was used to in that lucid dream of his ... it was a group of people sprinting in circles gawking 'no vale la pena ... no vale la pena' 

It couldn't have been dancing.

Bouncing from that floor onwards he found great excitement.  It was 

Las culturas del terror

This music,

"No matter where you turn

You ain't got no place to stand"

I want to find solitude ... or the idea of solitude.  Just for a minute. 

the everybodyfields

i can't help but listen to this kind of music.  the heart breaking love songs about despair and pain.

i have memories tied with them too i guess.  but they are so good ... the kind of song that makes you hurt so good ... if that is even possible.  maybe thats just me and my bizarre interest in the depressing/sick side of life.  

but really it's good music.  

"I'm talking

You're looking through me

With a blank stare

And I can't help but ask,

If today would be my last

Would you care?

And I can be lonely here

And I can be lonely anywhere

Yes I can be lonely"

It doesn't get any better than that.  

Sulking in some sense of temporary happiness with an undertone of heart felt grief. 

I think that's okay.  Probably not, but I don't really care.

I've been looking for a positive creative outlet lately ... no idea what that could be ... blogs are fake and full of lies ... something painfully true and beautiful ... let me know. 

Tristesse / Joie

Suffering from it all and living.  I must say I feel betrayed and I'm not really surprised at all.  

Becoming a part of the malicious thing that you were once a victim to while being completely blind to your hypocrisy makes me want to stab you in the throat. 

I like to think I have a demented mind with the soul of a lover.  

Spastic sparks of ideas are flowing right now. 

I think I get my reality extremely confused with my fantasy, in a way that they can't be separated.  I hope that's not bad.  Sometimes it feels strange to think about it, but I really do think that my imagination has a hold on my logical mind.  I love it.  It is not to say my reality is boring ... well cause I live in a mixture of my imagination and reality.  Safe/sane to do so? Oh yes.  

You aren't judging me right? Not that I would care that you considered me beyond weird ... I would just imagine you away like the rest of them.  Put in the land of my monster brethren. 

I hope all new wave artists and thinkers have started out the way I have ... lost in their own head and loving it. 

French mm mmm.

Je suis en vie à mort

La mort jusqu'ici

Je suis en vie

A mort