Friday, April 22, 2011
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Friday, March 19, 2010
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
It's been a while sense I've posted, mostly because I got the 'no one will read it anyway' thing stuck in my head.
Then I realized that no one (local) reading it was the entire point of even having this website.
I can use it as a diary or journal and leave it open to the speculation of the anonymous world to observe and maybe even connect to.
People I won't ever have to worry about disturbing or disappointing.
With that said, I'd like to add that It'll probably be forever before I post again, because I hardly keep up with any of my websites.
I'm talking to the air...
I might not go to college straight after highschool.
THERE.
I said it.
I'm so stereotypical.
If I'm not on stage by the time I'm at least 27, my life is officially worthless.
Monday, October 5, 2009
simmering down the beams- kirsty
I'm pretty sure there comes a time in life where the only thing a person can mutter to the world around them is "Why the fuck did you have to disappoint me so goddamn badly?"
I'm pretty sure everyone feels helpless every now and then, or a lot. It's hard not to when things are so...Human. Unless you live in denial or something. I'm actually starting to grow some admiration for those people who can put all of life's value into material things.
Where business cards and Armani suits and dinner reservations are more important than frustration, hopelessness and overall concerns.
Those people are brilliant liars and have succeeded in soulfully protecting themselves, congratufuckinglations to them.
To say that my jealousy isn't over the top at the moment would just be obscene in its obviousness. And beleive it or not, I'm actually not referring to anyone specific there.
I'm kind of tired of watching people jump into shit that they can't handle.
What I see is someone who never got the affection they deserved.
Be a man. Protect yourself.
Be a man. Fight.
Be a man. Pick up a gun.
Be a man. Protect your people.
Be a man. Jump in head first.
As long as you do what people want you to, you can't disappoint right?
And, not dissapointing people is what you want right?
So you're doing it for yourself right?
He'll love you now. We all will.
And while I'm ranting about it, I think I'll delight myself in changing subjects.
You! Yes, you.
Problems are surrounding you and you just can't seem to grasp onto the concept of why.
I can solve all of your problems.
I have the solution, I pulled it right out the crevices of your struggling brain.
Someone's bored.
I'm not answering questions for anyone.
I'm pretty sure everyone feels helpless every now and then, or a lot. It's hard not to when things are so...Human. Unless you live in denial or something. I'm actually starting to grow some admiration for those people who can put all of life's value into material things.
Where business cards and Armani suits and dinner reservations are more important than frustration, hopelessness and overall concerns.
Those people are brilliant liars and have succeeded in soulfully protecting themselves, congratufuckinglations to them.
To say that my jealousy isn't over the top at the moment would just be obscene in its obviousness. And beleive it or not, I'm actually not referring to anyone specific there.
I'm kind of tired of watching people jump into shit that they can't handle.
What I see is someone who never got the affection they deserved.
Be a man. Protect yourself.
Be a man. Fight.
Be a man. Pick up a gun.
Be a man. Protect your people.
Be a man. Jump in head first.
As long as you do what people want you to, you can't disappoint right?
And, not dissapointing people is what you want right?
So you're doing it for yourself right?
He'll love you now. We all will.
And while I'm ranting about it, I think I'll delight myself in changing subjects.
You! Yes, you.
Problems are surrounding you and you just can't seem to grasp onto the concept of why.
I can solve all of your problems.
I have the solution, I pulled it right out the crevices of your struggling brain.
Someone's bored.
I'm not answering questions for anyone.
Monday, September 28, 2009
A Small Collection of Creepy Shit -- Jenna
these are a few shit things i've written. too lazy to write something new. sleeeeeeepy.
Porcelain Doll
You were so pretty when you sat on your knees, Jonny.
God. The way every inch of you purred (just for me, Jon. Just for me). But, my favorite part was... how you fucking took it. You'd been the business for awhile now. (I could tell; you knew how to get a tip, baby. You had that textbook memorized.) But yet... after coming to you so much... after fucking you so slow and hard... you were still intact. Still clean and sweet (and tight. Can't forget tight). Still the angel of 54th street.
I knew things had to end, though. Things were rough out there, right? You'd been through a lot...? I didn't know-- I don't know. But I did know that you wouldn't be my diamond forever. The streets were going to get you at some point. When you weren't wary when you sucked! sucked! sucked! at me... when you didn't squeeze the sheets when I slammed into you.
So, I gave you an extra ten. I stared at you and sat quietly between the sticky sheets with you. If you weren't for rent (a lie) I would have kissed your bow of a mouth.
You were so young, Jonny.
Was I a father to you? Reliable? Always there? You would smile at me and say the same thing as always. "Next time next week?" but... that smile. It kept me coming to you, Jonny. It was so innocent. You were so innocent.
The final night, though? I could tell you didn't want me to come back. The Life was finally making its mark, wasn't it? I smiled at you. "Yep. See you then."
I didn't want the angel of 54th to disappear. In my mind... Jonny, in my mind you would always be innocent. The morning sun was not going to ruin that for me. I refused to see your filthy body or your black eye.
You were my porcelain doll.
Pedo thing
She sat on the swing.
Her thin, youthful legs glided over the air, invisible lips kissing her calves. Her finger squeezed the plastic covered chains like paper clips.
Children. They should never be so lovely, yet, to Principal McCarty, they always were. His lunchbox sat untouched on his desk, his eyes watching the children run across the gated courtyard. He was the monster Mommy told you about-- touched himself to girls with pink ribbons.
He was that monster and his victims were his students.
$EX
Let your lips wrap around dollar bills.
Now lick. Kiss George Washington.
A sigh. Smooth as silk. He moans a name slowly and his hips hiccup closer to you. Keep on. Hold your breath. Let him explode in a downpour of liquid pennies right onto your tongue.
You are a bank.
people were forgetting about me so i had to shovel some shit to get some attention. sorry for the massive post, kirsty, ily.
Porcelain Doll
You were so pretty when you sat on your knees, Jonny.
God. The way every inch of you purred (just for me, Jon. Just for me). But, my favorite part was... how you fucking took it. You'd been the business for awhile now. (I could tell; you knew how to get a tip, baby. You had that textbook memorized.) But yet... after coming to you so much... after fucking you so slow and hard... you were still intact. Still clean and sweet (and tight. Can't forget tight). Still the angel of 54th street.
I knew things had to end, though. Things were rough out there, right? You'd been through a lot...? I didn't know-- I don't know. But I did know that you wouldn't be my diamond forever. The streets were going to get you at some point. When you weren't wary when you sucked! sucked! sucked! at me... when you didn't squeeze the sheets when I slammed into you.
So, I gave you an extra ten. I stared at you and sat quietly between the sticky sheets with you. If you weren't for rent (a lie) I would have kissed your bow of a mouth.
You were so young, Jonny.
Was I a father to you? Reliable? Always there? You would smile at me and say the same thing as always. "Next time next week?" but... that smile. It kept me coming to you, Jonny. It was so innocent. You were so innocent.
The final night, though? I could tell you didn't want me to come back. The Life was finally making its mark, wasn't it? I smiled at you. "Yep. See you then."
I didn't want the angel of 54th to disappear. In my mind... Jonny, in my mind you would always be innocent. The morning sun was not going to ruin that for me. I refused to see your filthy body or your black eye.
You were my porcelain doll.
Pedo thing
She sat on the swing.
Her thin, youthful legs glided over the air, invisible lips kissing her calves. Her finger squeezed the plastic covered chains like paper clips.
Children. They should never be so lovely, yet, to Principal McCarty, they always were. His lunchbox sat untouched on his desk, his eyes watching the children run across the gated courtyard. He was the monster Mommy told you about-- touched himself to girls with pink ribbons.
He was that monster and his victims were his students.
$EX
Let your lips wrap around dollar bills.
Now lick. Kiss George Washington.
A sigh. Smooth as silk. He moans a name slowly and his hips hiccup closer to you. Keep on. Hold your breath. Let him explode in a downpour of liquid pennies right onto your tongue.
You are a bank.
people were forgetting about me so i had to shovel some shit to get some attention. sorry for the massive post, kirsty, ily.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Not Enough Gun
All my friends are smoking pot and fucking each other. Wow, I wish I was that cool.
Why does the thought of being human make me want to throw up in my fucking mouth?
Unnatural but articulated, I bet. Passed-life-karma.
Bullshit, I laugh.
Sometimes I want to kidnap people. Just tie them to a chair and question them. Ask them about their logic, beliefs, philosophy, emotions.
"Why does that he-said-she-said bullshit matter to anyone, why does it bother you, really, I REALLY want to know, for real."
"How does starting rumors and cat-fights in the hallway benefit you in any way?"
"How do drugs make your life better, what's so cool about looking like a bumfucking idiot?"
"How are you planning on raising the baby you could very well be incubating tomorrow?"
"If you get that incident 'taken care of' are you going to watch the dog the doctor fed 'it' to eat 'it'?"
But I know they'll just look at me, mouth slack, eyes wide, like dead fish with vacated headspace.
I'm actually a very happy person.
Why does the thought of being human make me want to throw up in my fucking mouth?
Unnatural but articulated, I bet. Passed-life-karma.
Bullshit, I laugh.
Sometimes I want to kidnap people. Just tie them to a chair and question them. Ask them about their logic, beliefs, philosophy, emotions.
"Why does that he-said-she-said bullshit matter to anyone, why does it bother you, really, I REALLY want to know, for real."
"How does starting rumors and cat-fights in the hallway benefit you in any way?"
"How do drugs make your life better, what's so cool about looking like a bumfucking idiot?"
"How are you planning on raising the baby you could very well be incubating tomorrow?"
"If you get that incident 'taken care of' are you going to watch the dog the doctor fed 'it' to eat 'it'?"
But I know they'll just look at me, mouth slack, eyes wide, like dead fish with vacated headspace.
I'm actually a very happy person.
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