Music is blasting my brain, making me forget how slow I'm moving in real life. But in my mind I move with the wind on a spring day. Whistling like Apollo, almost silent; beautiful. But different people can see it as a howling storm or the calm before and after (with out intermission...). The next thing I know I'm signing my Will, it goes that fast. But I'm really only moving as fast as everyone else is. But, some think 'to fast!' and some; 'to slow'. How can I stress this more? Life is random, time is all the same on the outside; it just depends on what your doing inside.

OK, I'm coming clean. I have a couple new ideas for this thing, so if there are changes, just roll with the tides. I want it to be an array of different things!

Dreaming- 8/29/09

I stood in the rain looking up at the face of a massive castle. The sun was shining, no clouds but thunderous rain. I'm shadowed so deeply the live Bulldog Gargoyles cannot see or smell me.

Yes, I've been running down the hot asphalt street of summer in my socks. oh, it's bad. once I'm done running, there will be something taken off of me,a thin layer of sock. you see, with out your shoes to talk to and laugh with and be friends with through out the whole summer, it's obviously different. Personally I always end up running with socks. I guess next year I'm gonna tie my shoes extra tight.

quickly it ran,
rusted like the past laps by the rain,
slip and fall,
a burnt scab gets freshly cut,
burn,
groan,
just the tar like grains,
they keep it down until it's pulled out,

but small blood still taints the tar,
until it's picked up again,

ahhh summer...

it's the toy that barely get taken out,

when it does;

it can haunt you,

and make you as lonely as the sun,

no stars,

just the sun...

ahh summer...

The last golden scratch on the wall of sacrament. You could also call it the last knot in a perfect shoelace. But lets just stick with the last day. Last days come in 2 forms; a. Holy crap that was fun, oh no now I'm crying; and b. Damn this place sucked! Scoring is the easiest part; A.

calling all ice cream lovers, stay away from most DQ's! Today my stomach was killed by the new Blizzard of the Month; the MALICE BLIZZARD! A solein and sulen server awaited our order as my finger nails got literally glued to the skin by layers of wax. Scratched off as I made the final golden scratch decision; thin mint- the flawless dictator- or Heat Bar- you know, the one I've never really tasted- finally, I gave in to the minty dictatorship... But it sucked at the end due to two kids working there listening to their crappy pop music. So, if you're expecting a good Blizzard, make it yourself, it's not that hard. Just take some ice cream, an egg beater, and some MnM's and your all good!

That's not the final grain picked up on the golden scratch though; I found this guy on Youtube. He is awesome! Amazing short films, and awesome stop-motion. Seriously, SUbscribe to this guy!
http://www.youtube.com/user/patrickboivin?blend=2&ob=4

that's a link to his channel on youtube, check it out, IT"S AWESOME!

i'll have a blue christmas with out youuuuu,
i'll have a blue christmas with out youuuuu,
decorations are great, on a green christmas tree,
but mean nothing, when you're not hear with me,
i'll have a blue christmas, that's certain,
and when that blue heatache starts hurtin,
you'll be due in our life, with your christmas so bright,
but i'll have a blue, blue christmas....


it's hard, because ever since i was born, christmas has been family sacrament. well, almost like that... and it's an oddity that i'm writting about christmas in the middle of august. but ever since i was four, a chasm has trapped me in between two sides of one broken heart. -you would know who you are-. my tears are the only things to keep me alive, and yet i can never die. I don't think i ever will die. so, come on, give me a ladder, give me a bridge, let me climb and let me cross this christmas. because i can't have a good christmas with our ms. claus or santa claus -you know who you are, mom, dad-

certain complications shadow my chances of putting up pictures. Lies and misenturpritations spring up in my head. where did i put that damn disk!? today i'm getting to the art museum in philly, can't wait to walk through the 4 titan like pillars and into it. i don't want, I need to see some art. some insparation please?! for the last 3 day's i haven't painted, drawn, or even sculpted anything... I feel like a lamp post with flickering lights.

the first artists didn't have any inspiration, just imagination. maybe I don't need insparation? just my hands and my slimy brain... but it's almost impossible to get out of, imagination is sparked from insparation. what can be made out of a bunch of soda bottles and guitar strings? what about an old piece of underwear and a sharpie? the world is always here, right in front of you, now don't waste your time idling.

what if

Why am I slowly dripping away, I, melting butter. Of all the things to do, this one lap in the writers' gym wears me out. Even before I start, I fade like dying memories. But maybe they'll resurface from the black tar? ( Not even water. Can't see ANYTHING)...

everyone's grown from a sapling, a minescule seed. Some grow to flourish, while others die in the sun. But that's not important; what my question is, is why can't we remember being toddlers? Yea, the guys down the hall figured that out in a lab. But really, from an emotional perspective...

I remember almost everyday of my life since 6th grade. Yet the fertalized sapling I used to be is another person. It's just depressing how the best time of your life gets washed away by the rage of life. Maybe if it would stop, we could actually catch it. What if the sun drank to much Red-Bull??? What if... what if............................

Random Thoughts...

1. YOU CAN'T LIVE LIFE LOOKING UP AND DOWN AT THE FUTURE AND PAST, YOU'VE GOTTA THINK OF THE PRESENT, OR YOU'LL GET KNOCKED ON YOUR ASS
2. IF YOU REALLY THINK ABOUT IT, SOME RICH PEOPLE DON'T HAVE BETTER LIVES. THEY CAN BE LIKE HOLINDAYS SAUCE, IT'S RICH BUT CAN MAKE PEOPLE SICK!
3. PEOPLE WHO DON'T RESPECT THEMSELFS' WON'T GET ANYWHERE
4. Everyone's a little messed up in the head, but only some people know how to use that part of their brain correctly: artists. ( Don't get me wrong, i'm an artist, and i REALLY am messedup in the head...)
5. Sometimes life is like a straight jacket, you go insane trying to get out.
   
6. There's always a group of people you can be with and be happy and be friends.
   
7. If you're not getting every ounce of milk from the cow, you can't make butter.
   

Blood

the blood,
pure blood of the orchestra:
indentical to mine

like the heart being buried inside,
there is...a tape player....
on...
and off,
PROJECTING,
to myself

I could be the driver,
seated in the first non-drive driver's seat
foggy insperation only comes when the blood runs clean
but for others??? may-bee...

DARK ORCHESTRA,
set me freeeeee
the heart finds it...well, comferting...
but the mind,
the ikel,
thickly bound mind...
it speaks for itself: odd...
massively odd

the tape player of the gods,
runs and runs in my head...

it's like the fart of an ogre,
silent, but can kill!

when I'm the one projecting,
nothing, not even nature is contemplated,
but when the music is fed to my soul,
I feel like life itself

...

The stories all around me, relinquished by imagination of the scribe. Questionable reason. Told from recent events? Or past, present, and future of the state of mind. Walls are plastered with the oracles. Propelled in black and white. All but one scribe, and all but all this work. Must be pleasureful, but, only sometimes.

Right now the clock's dusted, ounces of time dried and shriveled.