Friday, July 16, 2004
No remorse for the Romantics
And in other news, romance was found dead in her appartment earlier this afternoon. Police on the scene claim she died from no other signs, but a broken heart. It's almost ironic with romance's dissapearence from the main stream that no one will be surpirzed at her death...
as far as many people are concerned, she's been dead a long time.
And in other news, romance was found dead in her appartment earlier this afternoon. Police on the scene claim she died from no other signs, but a broken heart. It's almost ironic with romance's dissapearence from the main stream that no one will be surpirzed at her death...
as far as many people are concerned, she's been dead a long time.
Friday, June 25, 2004
Not a cry for help, nor a plea for sympathy...
The pulsing of my heart wrenches on...slowly. Its beats seem to thump in complete irregularity. My heart, like my spirit, is crushed: defeated. My air ways are open but my throat hates the oxygen, it begins to close in on itself as a way of self-destruction. It hurts to swallow down a mouth full of nothing, I ponder how much more the pain of taking town a life's pride. Feeling is fleeting from my limbs and eyes as things are becoming numb now Nothingness is painful and powerful and unwilling to let its friends go. Love, though a forgotten feeling, becomes useful again as I'd love to cry and let it go...but theres nothing and no reason to try...
People think you can just turn it on and always be what they know you can be. People think they know so much and tell you what you're doing wrong and that it will all be worth it someday, but they don't know the pressures of 'knowing' you'll suceed. Matt Moore, a name that has all the makings to demand attention, but only garnishes whispered 'could have beens' and 'dissapointments'. Being talented is the greatest blessing in the world. LOOK HOW SPECIAL YOU ARE... deep down inside look how special I am. A person who can do anything...resorting to nothing. A person they are jealous of...a person defeated and broken. Words cannot express my pain. Words cannot conjure up these emotions. But no one will ever understand this pain because I'm talented and everything goes my way that me feeling depressed is just stupid when I have all of these things going for me...what things I ask...what things...the constant thoughts that I'm a failure? Yeah, you want to be jealous of me...be jealous of that. You don't know what pain is. defeat.
He lit his cigarette and placed it to his lips, but his eyes stared off at the adjacent wall...questioning...questing. With a flaking scratch he put the cigarette out on the green felt placement atop the oak desk top, suddenly pausing this circular motion of his right hand as his eye's apperature refocused joining his mouths upward slant of facial expression. "It's a chemical reaction!" he exclaimed to the empty office, his eyes scrolling about the bookshelves like a professor lecturing to a panel. "The striking of the primer creates the spark that when united with blackpowder creates an explosion! this kenetic energy contained in the short cylinder creates a pressure that is too much for the small brass casing to withstand creating a projectile the cylinder's head while leaving the brass casing and signs of a chemical change there to waft around each other far behind the point of impact! Of course!" With that he opened his upper right desk drawer, and after rifling through several loose papers he produced a small black item which he gingerly caressed with the care generally reserved for a father to a son. Shifing the item to his right hand, his wrist alerted him to the weight of the item calling him to stiffen that wrist to properly support the weight as a gentleman would. He smiled as he cleared the remaining items off his desk, his eyes attempting to avoid such words as "talented, finest, request, granduer, and best" for he knew such words would take him from his current state and as dorthy had, would place him in a land he didn't care to be in. His smile continued as he decided to forget about what he should have become, as his eyes chose to remember those earlier days when everything was right...the thundering echo rang out through the oak trimmed walls bouncing off each corner as if franticly searching for someone's concern...they found none.
The pulsing of my heart wrenches on...slowly. Its beats seem to thump in complete irregularity. My heart, like my spirit, is crushed: defeated. My air ways are open but my throat hates the oxygen, it begins to close in on itself as a way of self-destruction. It hurts to swallow down a mouth full of nothing, I ponder how much more the pain of taking town a life's pride. Feeling is fleeting from my limbs and eyes as things are becoming numb now Nothingness is painful and powerful and unwilling to let its friends go. Love, though a forgotten feeling, becomes useful again as I'd love to cry and let it go...but theres nothing and no reason to try...
People think you can just turn it on and always be what they know you can be. People think they know so much and tell you what you're doing wrong and that it will all be worth it someday, but they don't know the pressures of 'knowing' you'll suceed. Matt Moore, a name that has all the makings to demand attention, but only garnishes whispered 'could have beens' and 'dissapointments'. Being talented is the greatest blessing in the world. LOOK HOW SPECIAL YOU ARE... deep down inside look how special I am. A person who can do anything...resorting to nothing. A person they are jealous of...a person defeated and broken. Words cannot express my pain. Words cannot conjure up these emotions. But no one will ever understand this pain because I'm talented and everything goes my way that me feeling depressed is just stupid when I have all of these things going for me...what things I ask...what things...the constant thoughts that I'm a failure? Yeah, you want to be jealous of me...be jealous of that. You don't know what pain is. defeat.
He lit his cigarette and placed it to his lips, but his eyes stared off at the adjacent wall...questioning...questing. With a flaking scratch he put the cigarette out on the green felt placement atop the oak desk top, suddenly pausing this circular motion of his right hand as his eye's apperature refocused joining his mouths upward slant of facial expression. "It's a chemical reaction!" he exclaimed to the empty office, his eyes scrolling about the bookshelves like a professor lecturing to a panel. "The striking of the primer creates the spark that when united with blackpowder creates an explosion! this kenetic energy contained in the short cylinder creates a pressure that is too much for the small brass casing to withstand creating a projectile the cylinder's head while leaving the brass casing and signs of a chemical change there to waft around each other far behind the point of impact! Of course!" With that he opened his upper right desk drawer, and after rifling through several loose papers he produced a small black item which he gingerly caressed with the care generally reserved for a father to a son. Shifing the item to his right hand, his wrist alerted him to the weight of the item calling him to stiffen that wrist to properly support the weight as a gentleman would. He smiled as he cleared the remaining items off his desk, his eyes attempting to avoid such words as "talented, finest, request, granduer, and best" for he knew such words would take him from his current state and as dorthy had, would place him in a land he didn't care to be in. His smile continued as he decided to forget about what he should have become, as his eyes chose to remember those earlier days when everything was right...the thundering echo rang out through the oak trimmed walls bouncing off each corner as if franticly searching for someone's concern...they found none.
Friday, March 19, 2004
Spring Break.
Filled with mystery? Enchanted engagements? Excitement? Not really. I've been doing homework and contemplating my life. It's been alright I guess. I had a really good time at home. I came up with a new screen play idea so that was cool. The folx really got a kick out of seeing me there too I think. man, trying to memorize lines over break...lame. It's so nice outside...I just want to enjoy it. Throw a disc, throw a rock, punch a kid...you know enjoy being alive.
I did write a new MURDER KILL PARTY song.
"I'll send you to the hospital...to visit your dying parents" -MKP
Filled with mystery? Enchanted engagements? Excitement? Not really. I've been doing homework and contemplating my life. It's been alright I guess. I had a really good time at home. I came up with a new screen play idea so that was cool. The folx really got a kick out of seeing me there too I think. man, trying to memorize lines over break...lame. It's so nice outside...I just want to enjoy it. Throw a disc, throw a rock, punch a kid...you know enjoy being alive.
I did write a new MURDER KILL PARTY song.
"I'll send you to the hospital...to visit your dying parents" -MKP
Friday, March 12, 2004
It seems I have lost to ability to turn it on...
But I've replaced this skill with the ability to turn in OFF.
It sucks when you know you can do something and you work at it, and work at it, and work at it 'till it's perfect, you go to do it and completely blow it. that has been this week for me. 5 days of blown oppurtunities. I think I just need to chill myself out this week, and for 5 days not be surronded by stupid people. That sounds sweet. I suppose I should toss in some funny commentary of some kind to make this worth reading: (thinking...thinking...thinking...) hmmm, i guess I covered all the bases here. Wow, thus showing my amazing ability to completely shut down in the clutch. ouch.
But I've replaced this skill with the ability to turn in OFF.
It sucks when you know you can do something and you work at it, and work at it, and work at it 'till it's perfect, you go to do it and completely blow it. that has been this week for me. 5 days of blown oppurtunities. I think I just need to chill myself out this week, and for 5 days not be surronded by stupid people. That sounds sweet. I suppose I should toss in some funny commentary of some kind to make this worth reading: (thinking...thinking...thinking...) hmmm, i guess I covered all the bases here. Wow, thus showing my amazing ability to completely shut down in the clutch. ouch.
Thursday, March 11, 2004
I wanna kill
Everyone
I wanna kill
Satan's my pal,
Satan's my pal.
It feels as if i'm just falling apart. I'm not tired, but I need rest. I need to escape, like a dillinger escape plan(insert metal solo here-mee-da-la-mee-da-la-meeeeerrr!) That just made me chuckle. Life isn't completely bad. Why do some people forget that bodies burn? As if when I just sit there and let you be a jackass, inside i'm really saying, "wow that was an interesting point your stupid ass is making. You are the best at what you do. You have the right to think you're funny because your a kiss ass. I certainly AM out of my league aren't I?" As if my silence means I secretly approave of your ability to make another person more ignorant with your thoughtless comments. wow.
Everyone
I wanna kill
Satan's my pal,
Satan's my pal.
It feels as if i'm just falling apart. I'm not tired, but I need rest. I need to escape, like a dillinger escape plan(insert metal solo here-mee-da-la-mee-da-la-meeeeerrr!) That just made me chuckle. Life isn't completely bad. Why do some people forget that bodies burn? As if when I just sit there and let you be a jackass, inside i'm really saying, "wow that was an interesting point your stupid ass is making. You are the best at what you do. You have the right to think you're funny because your a kiss ass. I certainly AM out of my league aren't I?" As if my silence means I secretly approave of your ability to make another person more ignorant with your thoughtless comments. wow.
Tuesday, March 09, 2004
fury.
Why is it that rebellion is seen as a savior, yet it can never be achieved? Why is it that standing up means taking a backseat to the all the lackies? Why am I angry? WHy is my future jepordized because I choose to not take what I am given? This is a fool's world if he is too scared to stand up for him self until justice is served. I may have ended all hopes for myself, but I will survive.
"the cure for pain is in the pain, so its there that you'll find me"
-mewithoutyou
Why is it that rebellion is seen as a savior, yet it can never be achieved? Why is it that standing up means taking a backseat to the all the lackies? Why am I angry? WHy is my future jepordized because I choose to not take what I am given? This is a fool's world if he is too scared to stand up for him self until justice is served. I may have ended all hopes for myself, but I will survive.
"the cure for pain is in the pain, so its there that you'll find me"
-mewithoutyou
Friday, January 09, 2004
Today is the day[_________________________]
You can use your noodle to fill in end of that sentance. For some of us who went through Bible school perhaps, "that the Lord has made." comes quickly to mind. For those of us going through hard times perhaps, "I get back on my feet and give it my best shot!" would be an appropriate way to finish that sentance. For me on the other hand, I have to end that sentace with, "that the bills get paid!" A painful day in my life where I go to the bank, fully realizing that I don't have any money, and I take out money from my surplus of no money, to pay bills from previous days when I also...you guessed it, didn't have money. That mixed with the fact that I'm the worst banker in the world brings me to a painful period of time where I try to sweet talk the bank teller into not thinking I'm a complete idiot(i usually fail).
Something else comes to mind here: banks are like airports. Apparently there is an unspoken rule that says you can't make jokes or have fun of any kind while inside. All joking small talk is seen as a threat and if you make too many jokes about the amount of snow we have outside the teller will (1) take an extra long time confirming your identity, and (2) will pull the manager asside just to converse about you just out of ear-shot. I guess its true. You can't buy happiness. Those people have all the money in the world and they still talk to you like their cat just died.
You can use your noodle to fill in end of that sentance. For some of us who went through Bible school perhaps, "that the Lord has made." comes quickly to mind. For those of us going through hard times perhaps, "I get back on my feet and give it my best shot!" would be an appropriate way to finish that sentance. For me on the other hand, I have to end that sentace with, "that the bills get paid!" A painful day in my life where I go to the bank, fully realizing that I don't have any money, and I take out money from my surplus of no money, to pay bills from previous days when I also...you guessed it, didn't have money. That mixed with the fact that I'm the worst banker in the world brings me to a painful period of time where I try to sweet talk the bank teller into not thinking I'm a complete idiot(i usually fail).
Something else comes to mind here: banks are like airports. Apparently there is an unspoken rule that says you can't make jokes or have fun of any kind while inside. All joking small talk is seen as a threat and if you make too many jokes about the amount of snow we have outside the teller will (1) take an extra long time confirming your identity, and (2) will pull the manager asside just to converse about you just out of ear-shot. I guess its true. You can't buy happiness. Those people have all the money in the world and they still talk to you like their cat just died.
