“girls are a lot like cats
they make no fucking sense”
thanks. time will tell.
i just can’t sleep. so much going on right now. gotta go to a funeral in the morning but i just can’t keep still or find peace. so much of life truly sucks. we can only do so much, but ultimately it all ends one day no matter what. it breeds a really helpless feeling. i’m not sure why anyone has kids and brings more people into this world.
hopefully i can find a way to care about someone or something in a healthy manner and for more than a couple hours
thank you. i think the hair is gonna stay long, possibly get longer. but really, what does it matter when you can’t see any of it when the lights are off?
sick man! can’t wait to see ya there. i was already ecstatic about the show, and then when i heard the new story so far album it multiplied about 52351411223x. and what band are you in?
It’s currently being mixed and all that jazz. It should be out at some point in July and I can’t wait for people to hear it. We should have it in time for the July 29th show (which is gonna be nuts), hopefully before that. Thanks for listening, I’m really proud that you like that song as it’s definitely the most serious song I’ve ever written and it means alot to see people digging that and not just our song ripping on the neon-pop shit going on.
yes. for the duration of that time period, it was the greatest, happiest, most selfless feeling i have ever experienced. in retrospect, there were lots of things that weren’t right with it, mostly stemming from the fact that the person i was with was not a good person and surely not a good person for/to me. however, i hope to feel it again, just obviously with a better/more compatible person.
Belmont festivities for lunch. LI fest at night. Social butterfly status. Leveling up to a Butterfree.
I may have lost my mind.
It seems every
that I start writing something positive
of, about, or for someone
they turn into
(and by turn into
i finally see them as)
and before i know it
it’s time to add
another portrait to
the gallery of extraplatonic footnotes
another carcass to
the den of things i wish i never meant
another shitty poem
for another shitty person
and to add injury to insult
on some nights i remember
the steps i could’ve taken
way back when
that would make me less
alone in bed
(and less awful when not so)
“you’re too good for me”
“i’m not who you think i am”
“i’m not who you need”
“that’s a guy i’ll never be”
the truth, and nothing but the
convenient and irrefutable truths
of self-fulfilling prophecies.
and there was a good one
without tendencies toward infidelities
without substance abuse
without malleable morality
and thanks to my best efforts
i often wonder how far it would’ve gone
could it really have been different, really?
and i usually try to kill that thought
because it brings to mind a big blooming field
one to roll around in
one to run around
never watching the clock
never watching the door
never watching the phone
and i’ve written this all
to at least have some agency over
the fairly blatant
and soon enough obvious
that i’ve spent so much time
just trying to cover my tracks
of this corner i’ve painted myself into
none; he would realize that regardless of how ever much des-mond productivity he could attain, one day it would all dissolve to dust, and he would one day die, with his bowels releasing shortly thereafter, leaving him to end his life on this earth with great filth. or 3.
lol, can’t promise that. i wouldn’t be surprised if we play it again at some point. i’m kind of surprised that the reaction to it has been as crazy as it has.
I can only speculate
on what it is that ate away
at your already thin frame.
The sun hasn’t melted all of the snow, it seems.
I used to say
“I didn’t know what I saw in you”
There’s barely anything left of you to see.