Archive for April 2009
Liquid Air….
Posted on: April 24, 2009
We are going to review. No medicine to swallow. Taste is a crazy 5th sense. Shades of hunger prove hard to swallow. I’ve got to tell you something. That echo has been there forever. It lingers like the smell of kettle corn popped in a room 8 feet long by 8 feet wide. Just always air-raiding yer nose. No smoke has touched these lips since yesterday. Haha, who am I kidding? Smoke doesn’t have a certain place it can’t go. It’s not water or air. So it’s liquid air? Holy shit, awesome band name.
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Uh-oh negative. We don’t want yer fuckin’ money. We want yer pity; we want you to show us just how low yu’ll go. We feed off that shit. Spill yer deepest darkest secrets locked far beneath that shifty skin of yers. You sneaky prick, you won’t get far. Yu’ll die before you even come close.
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The clouds travel so fast these days. They never stop to enhance the five senses. The five senses. Hope, dreams, people, imagination, and happiness. Caught on the tilting force of time, he carefully stradled the minute hand, determination for survival thundering through him. The world couldn’t and wouldn’t understand or even begin to grasp the twisted thoughts that ran within his evil veins. Cucumber melon streaks soaked deep. Suddenly, he wasn’t running anymore. He was alive. AND IT WAS THE BEST FEELING IN THE WORLD. 
Magic Brownies….
Posted on: April 19, 2009
(Sis walks in my room, a brownie in her hand. I’m sitting cross-legged on the floor trying to remember why I went in there in the first place.)
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Sis – “Mmmm, this brownie is really good.”
Me – (real serious tone) “She died.”
Sis – (silent, very confused)
Me – “Oh sorry! I thought you were the left side of my brain.”
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Ahahahahahahaha! 
What’s Mine Is Far From Yers….
Posted on: April 13, 2009
(Me and Sis are sitting at the dinner table eating chicken and I forget my napkin in the kitchen and I really have to spit out a piece of hard chicken. So I sneakily grab Sis’ napkin and relieve myself. Then (not on purpose) I end up putting the dirty napkin back on her plate right in the ranch. Too bad she saw me. Ahahaha!)
Sis – “Spit stained chicken wings in my ranch? IN MY RANCH?!? IT’S MY FUCKIN’ RANCH!!!”
Me – (real subtle + quiet) “I need a napkin.”
Sis – (arms flailing, nostrils flared) “Getcho own fuckin’ napkin!!!”
Burnt Chicken….
Posted on: April 12, 2009
(I’m in my room, Sis is in the kitchen microwaving chicken for dinner. There’s a wave of black smoke that slowly makes its way into my room. I see it and begin to wonder.)
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Me – (yelling down the hallway) “Did yu burn the chicken???”
Sis – (said after a 5 second pause, all cool and collected) “It’s on fire.”
Me – “WHAT?!? THERE’S A FIRE?!?”
(As I stomp into the kitchen out of breath and find Sis laughing her ass off, proud as hell that she had tricked me yet again. Ahahaha!
)
I can seriously smell that goddamn stinkbug from here. Long story short; this big-ass nasty bug flew into the printer today and it’s still in there. I know for a fact it’s still in there. Tried printing, but just plain old paper came out. Goddamnit. It’ll be my luck that that thing flies outta there when I’m least expecting it, too. Fucker.
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Music is an excellent outlet. Connecting beats to measures, back to beats again pleases me beyond belief. Especially when those beats come from Cobain’s fingers. Long, slender, attenuated fingers.
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Randomness time. Haha. Art Street. Blue bobbing heads aflame with jealousy. How dare you float without asking? I want to go fishing. The fish that swim in my cavaties are translucent, blind without reason to the outside world. You know something. I know you know something. I’ve lost my lean figure somewhere between last summer and about a month ago. It kinda sucks, but my strength prevailed. My shadow flinched today. I think I scared it. Hah!
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Cover up the casualties with Kleenex. Nobody wants to see those tears. Because then yu’ll expose people for who they really are. Cry and they’ll cry. It’s a trigger of defeat you can’t defeat. Sad is more common than happy, but happy is more prominent. Take it or leave it.
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The ceiling creaks with uncertainty. The memories embed themselves within these wooden walls, like slivers do skin. Living here between beams and under rooms, I’m quite bored. These walls can’t talk, so I’m left with the dogs. But I guess they can’t talk either. So I’m left with me and me.
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Me1 – “Dude, what happened with that stinkbug today? Did you ever find it?”
Me2 – “Don’t talk about that shit! You know I hate bugs. And no, I never found it.”
Me1 – “That sucks. Don’t worry, it’ll prolly just live off ink or turn into some giant mutant bug by eating the paper.”
Me2 – “You are such a bitch, you know that. Thanks for pre-planning my nightmare for tonight. Bitch.”
My Evil Toy Chest….
Posted on: April 4, 2009
I remember this one time, I think I was like 9 or 10 years old. I had this awesome toy chest that I put all my toys inside of. It even had a sweet little lock on the front part. Well, one night I dug all my toys out and attempted to climb inside. Notta; I was too big. So of course I go and get my brother.
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He fit perfectly with about an inch to spare in each corner. “K, now let me shut it”, I remember telling him. So I shut it, and locked it as well. About 5 seconds in, he started freaking out cuz I had overlooked the fact that my nifty chest had no air circulation when closed. Well, whenever you applied pressure from the bottom up, the lock tightened, cuz that’s just the way it was designed I guess. So there he was, screaming and suffocating, while I helplessly screamed back at him, “Stop moving!!!” Finally, I realized I wasn’t strong enough to get him out, so I ran and got Dad. He seriously took one pull to get Austin out. There Austin sat, all red and crying, and me, pretty much the same.
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I remember Dad was pissed at me the rest of the evening, and so was Mom. So I wrapped my bed sheet around me and slept behind my bedroom door that night. I’m still not sure why. I think I was trying to punish myself for what I put my brother through by not allowing myself to sleep on the bed. Genius. Ahahahaha! 
Dear Unborn Child Of Mine….
Posted on: April 3, 2009
Dear Unborn Child Of Mine,
The economy sucks. But I’m pretty sure when yer 18, it’ll fade into happy money again. Yer dad’s currently the best in the biz according to all the locals. Yu’ll like it here. We got plenty of other cities to move to though, just in case you don’t. Food is abundant, which is excellent for you, cuz from all the kicks I’m feelin’ right now, yer gonna be one hungry baby boy. Hey, at least yer gonna be tall. And I’ll teach you how to play the piano like a madman. I gotta learn first of course, but hey, we’ll get there. Yer gonna be a winter kid. I can feel it. Snowboarding, tubing, and skiing have yer name written all over em’. Stars collided to make you my dear. And they were beautiful. 
Love, Mom
Pick It Up….
Posted on: April 2, 2009
Yer in class taking a test. Since it’s a test, the room is dead silent. Yer cell phone goes off, ringing really loud cuz you forgot to put it on silent. You look up to see how pissed yer professor is, and he’s holding his cell phone up to his ear, mouthing you the words “Pick it up.” So you answer and he says in a real calm voice, “The answer to number 6 is A. Love you.” Then he hangs up.
