well then.

i'm feeling lethargic; it could be the $18 breakfast or my plan to drive to school today. i pull back from myself when i regress to a way i hate-
spending money
lazy
lazy
driving
driving while intoxicated
driving
lazy
spending money

i hate this cycle.

it could be the resin hit.

i am shiningly infatuated with you

oh, yes. how is it that i can get exactly what i've wanted?

- A hold has been placed on your entire account balance. For assistance, please contact customer service. -



welcome to hell.

consumed by you

how can i face it if it is trapped in my mind? i can't presume a way out. i only envision it, i can not actually see it. i am blinded by several things. all of these things i can easily consider as a problem. a reason. proof that i am wrong. it is hard to overlook those stares, those eyes, those mysteries that i recognize in myself. i am just intrigued by it, i think, understandably so. but i am scared to think that it could never happen. because, it could end up that way. end. end. i don't want this to end. i look forward to any inclination from you. because it makes me think about what could be so much harder. sometimes i love this dream world i create for my self.

ask me how i'm doing

the other day adrienne read my cards, and right next to my card, in the near future, was the death card. the other night, i was tripping, and by the end of the night i was just having a steady body high, although bob was upset with me. i started crying after i felt all these scabs on midnight's neck. i thought i had some sort of distorted yet accurate realization. since then i've passed off that thought, although i've noticed midnight is still acting god awfully weird. i'm worried, and maybe i shouldn't be, but there are still a myriad of things that are on my mind that have been bothering me.

i'm just bothered. worried. mostly worried. my mother is about to leave my father, and my older sister recently told my father about everything. my aunt recently told my sister about everything, causing such, and since then i've had this really sour feeling every time i go home. i've gone home twice as much in the past couple months than i have this entire year. my car will be the death of me. (speaking of such, i got into my first car accident the other day after i left parkgrounds. woe is me. . )

i've acquired a fake id. here it comes.

up the punx

r.i.p.
everyone in atlanta knew you. even the guy from texaco, who asked bob and i where the funeral service was going to be - even he had to go pay his respects. after your wake everyone came to jack's and they trashed the place, but it was well fucking deserved. mari was chain smoking the day after your death. death has such a weird, curdling effect, almost. the tears equal no amount of life learned and lived of you.

1963 baptême du feu

shamanism

i feel so nervous because i can see how it can be, but i am stuck with how it is. midnight is exponentially happier in my new house. i am too. my room is so big and i just want everyone i have ever loved to stay there with me. i love my dad so much and it makes me so entirely upset that my mother has never given him any credit. i made a promise to myself last night that i will never give myself up for someone. i see where i am going and i will not be clouded.

blonde wigs and red heads

i am sitting and drinking an overwhelming amount of coffee; i feel so collected yet sporadic, as if my ten various elongate rope creatures can't connect to my bones anymore, so i just kind of let them writhe out of their spockets; i need to accomplish eight things today and it seems i need to take inspiration from very boring creations which enlist zero creativity just because i need to feel at ease about things. too much stimulation by inherently stimulating people can distract me from my work, and right now i just need to especially focus on things like ghana's resource curse and my looming stressful week because oh lord that's how it goes. so it goes.

i am moving to grant park

the second coming

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.

Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: a waste of desert sand;
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Wind shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

William Butler Yeats (1865-1939)

happy

niagra detroit

fucking in love with her.

/ / / the expanding earth

i think i trust myself.

if they say it is then it has to be but otherwise it might be nothing

whenever someone asks me how we are i say something along the lines of, "well, he's bob." and then i catch myself, think about it, and try to provide an answer. but "well, he's bob" doesn't actually mean anything when i say it. . . i don't mean it, i just usually have nothing else, really, to say because i haven't had the chance yet to really think about it. our relationship makes little sense to me. i am completely beyond my realm of comprehension. yet, i am physically putting myself through it. yet, i see no other way to live my life right now. yet, i want no other person to spend my time with.

and maybe i have reconsidered it in my mind, being with him. i have certainly fought with him, and i've certainly lost my wits about him. the other night we were arguing after wonderroot, we were both sort of drunk, but i convinced myself that i was not really (although i had completely forgotten the fact i pretty much finished the rest of the old russian handle to myself since it was so very within my reach) so my argument seemed more convincing. honestly, i can not even remember what the argument was about, and maybe it was even because i had felt so goddamn weird that night for multiple occasions (and so is life, really, i am not the person to steam about just because x or y was there, but i am conscious of it) so when we were back at my house, and i had already been mad at him at wonderroot, i started to cry and then i screamed and he tried to hold me, and calm me down, but i kept screaming, and i pushed him away. and then he got up, and said something about how i was crazy, how he doesn't do "this" (and by "this," well, really? i had to be a "this" like that? so what if i am crazy) and tried to leave. but i didn't want him to, and i realized that it made me cry harder, and to that i had to go up to him and hold him. somewhere i was almost sure he wouldn't leave, but nothing else existed because he might have left and that could have ruined me. and the way he looked at me kind of terrified me, his facial expressions were so pronounced because of his eyebrows, i think. maybe even the bull ring, too. he was fuming at me.



i could see the veins in his neck. but he stood at the doorway too long, his steps were faltered. he took too much time to leave. and then, he didn't leave. and we slept in the same bed together.

and i can already think of countless amount of times where he became upset with me. where we fought. but i seem to overlook it, each day. i am consumed. i see no way out.

cheers to your ability to overwhelm me. i am beginning to change you. you have changed me.

snobby joes

my life in songs, at the moment.

kimya dawson - so nice so smart

cub - my chinchilla

swans - beautiful child

i like giants, especially girl giants

listen, i do what i do and i'm not trying to impose on anyone. i've been doing what i do for a while now, so i don't really know why it bothers you so much.

whatever though. it's an annoying little bug.

where nobody loves you and nobody gives a damn

hardcore

i'm sinking into my bed right now. i feel like i am sinking. i feel upset. i feel unsure. unsteady. i would like to genuinely apologize to you. sometimes i deny realities. situations. i live in my own world. i told you this, that i've trained myself to be detached. you have to realize that i have given myself to someone before, only to realize i had only received half of the other in return. i can only, now, go out of my way to evade the situation in the first place. because i can't explain to you how empty i have felt, and how empty i do feel because of it.

i struggle with this. and you have your own collective faults. but i just can't seem to understand the effect you have on me. when you sound upset with me, my stomach sinks. to even consider you upset with me is something that is nearly baffling to me. to see how much of an effect i have on you is something i won't take lightly. you have managed yourself into a portion of my thoughts. maybe i am just a little scared, and that is why i come off as if i don't care in the first place.

i will work on my frivolity.


if you really want me, the way you say you do, i am yours. official, exclusive, whatever the hell. i take this as seriously as you do. i would feel emptier than before without you, at this point.

as i walked into the bathroom, i saw you crouching in the shower

oh, what these days have inflicted upon me. i am just a little worn-thin. today i ate in excess because i convince myself that it helps me.

i want to post these photos i took on my phone. they are mostly drunken slurs of life that i happen upon. and a dog shitting in the morning. and also my madison, or my madizit.

hold on, i am rather deviated from myself. i have already envisioned my way out. oh how i feel like a master of my destiny. how much power. how much p o w e r. i think about these things, i write about these things- i'm naturally inclined towards what happens in my life. or so it goes. and it goes, quite like i would imagine. i am so fucking timid because of that. so closed up. but you have seared into my skin. you've almost branded me. (somewhere one night i felt like i wanted to be branded by you. but i dream mostly) maybe i will rise above


it isn't on my list
i have willed my will to will and let myself and let live.

this is when i say

nevermind

*************no more drunken posts

we are contrast, let's be honest. you are somewhere i can not even imagine. i am over here, and i will always be separate from you. we are two different entities. somehow we've united in some alternative sense. i do not really understand, either. we are functioning together, alone. i can not begin to explain it to someone. it is as if it does not even exist. as if i was making this up as i went along. restart. reposition. repair. reclaim. reclaim. relocate. re-apply. it's something i can't begin to explain. but i like you just as much for your enthusiasm, your attitude, your general well being. i get you. i want you. that's all i have to say.

the better sex

it's as if i've settled in a dream state. this dream state was clearly induced by you. i feel a bit overwhelmed by you, at times. you're in this constant state of disillusionment; you pass yourself to influence. you were hardened by mad dog 20/20. your eyes mean more though. your capacity is short fused. i want to help you expand, unfold.

maybe. maybe i just don't trust your intentions. i feel like your way out, and to me, you are a rough gem.

every once in a while you meet someone who does more than just perpetuate motion.

who loves the sun

hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

hm.

when i see you i could probably think of a million things- to do with you, to say to you; but it's as if i'll never have the chance to. and i haven't, yet, quite, although i've tried through intentionally cryptic text messages fueled by my in se cur i ty. maybe i just want to plow through it all and not even bother with it more than i actually care to bother with it. does that make any sense?



please, god, let me make sense again. i'm nearing closer and closer to it. montreal for spring break with brandon. i love, love, love him.

things that i truly love:



-words in a neatly aligned sentence. i'm not speaking of grammar.
-my cat brushing against my leg while i'm peeing in the morning
-riding in the sun
-flicking people off who deserve it and should probably wake up from their blackberry ridden lives
-i still have my cucumber perfume. and it was a very dear gift
-pantha du prince- stick to my side (ft panda bear)
-my ridiculously easy semester
-i found a disposable camera in the graffiti house next door, as well as a candle

a personal

recipe of disdain

jealousy

dejection

amen dunes

When can we get together again?
Nevermind, I've lost you

splintering

most of these photos are by ryan mcginley. his photos are my counterpart. the last sketch is by a good friend robby day; it reminds me of a dream creature. there are a few photos in here i don't remember where they are from, they are just saved files. one is by the late dash snow i saved a while back. one is a shot from grizzly bear's 'ready, able' music video. one is of me and was taken by my good friend mike wentz. the adam (coming soon: eve) photo in front of the teepee was taken by me thanks to alex burner.