| failyear blimp turtle |
[22 Nov 2009|11:56pm] |
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her orange eyes stared into his like halogen lights. "we can burn out like candles or we can burn out like stars." the choice is ours. the cops were tracing them by the gps chips in their wrists. the albino frog's long legs worked through the water. nathan slept in the woods. he had no home, no job, no mob to call his own. mom worried about him. he just got a new neck tattoo. it was a snake. its tongue flickered if you touched it.
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| Posted using TxtLJ |
[03 Nov 2009|07:29am] |
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Had dream i was in new yorky place i'd been b4. Superhighways, insane girl with two cool guy friends, creatures with crocodile heads n snake bodies r slow.
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| black hate magic |
[03 Nov 2009|01:18am] |
"i'll always love you," she said and shoved the knife in.
something that looked like it was composed of black lightning walked by.
it shook its head. she stared into its empty eyes, like staring into the void.
"i can't talk now," she spoke. the creature sensed endless despair inside her.
she was a daughter of infinity, the cosmos slain like a deer on a cracked concrete altar.
blood pooled together like liquid shadows. sometimes you just gotta do the wrong thing.
songs on repeat to control consciousness. the villian grinned. ffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffeeff
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| scarstrip bloopers |
[21 Oct 2009|11:34pm] |
and in your wisps and wishes, the witches work their dark magic. we're falling out of space here, where the meant-to-be's are drifting, weightless with the asteroids. i'm living in a junkyard of treasures, cardinals flitting by. the things i've seen with android eyes. ghosts of great buildings stand before me and cartoon creatures. dust scraps, i only know what a sage once said, "you just gotta do it." i once considered changing my name (to cocaine) but i know that words are meaningless. we dine in darkness, skull lights, city lights sparkling like stars. the dogs are barking again, steel jaws- they can see the creatures dance in the darkness.
i'm remembering launching water balloons in lakeside now, which i remember being called oceanside. there are minefields there, mindfields. walk carefully. royko, loveglow, enigma. always the wrong and silent type. can you control? tobey or not tobey, obey jd.
blueberry muffins, banana, half a waffle, two sliced eggs and orange juice. excessive exemplary. follow the ghost trails, entrails. that old lady had the gasmask on but when i developed the film, her image wasn't in it. oldtype in your ocean, abe lincoln skin. it's pointless to think of things, junko mizuno my little ponies. i promised not to (insert symbology here) to protect the guilty. anubis, a new hiss. she speaks in steam. in time, in rhyme. can we rewind the cassette tape and play it backwards in the cat's mouth? i heard it can give you a different reading, bleeding. we are feeding on the memories of the ancient ones. i'd forgive you if you didn't make it this far- now i know why you have nothing to say.
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| g(end)ame |
[15 Oct 2009|01:06am] |
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mood |
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something you can't taste |
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music |
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something you can't see |
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"i hope the nightmares don't wake me up again," tabitha told him.
the doctor's eyes just blinked red leds.
"there's a feather from a father, now run and play daughter, don't be a bother." -mother.
sometimes i just feel like i'm remixing myself.
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| easter island (zoroastrianism) black eyeliner / mascara |
[11 Oct 2009|10:28pm] |
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music |
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dethalbum 2 / crystal castles |
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1.
"the government is still watching us," she whispered. jack just scratched an itch on his back.
"i've missed you, my dear," he told her, brushing bone white hair with skinny fingers.
her body was all machinery and empty tubes. "when you wake up we're gonna *** all the rubes," he told her.
she had black panties on, he couldn't help but stare into her swirling blue eyes. he thought he could see a planet composed entirely of water in them. it was sinking, falling away into black space.
2.
"this is quite a disappointment." her fingernails were painted blood red. we lay together in bed. her face was a computer screen. 8-bit wonder and blunder. her blonde hair had bits of glitter stuck in it. i called her aliss but i couldn't be sure i remembered her real name anymore. the tranquilovision washed us with its violet waves.
4.
pink breasts on display. we washed our skin under an electric thing. contraption with a lot of pipes, rusted in parts, black mold. stockings and garters, we'll make all your dreams come true. feathers. touch of **** from above. "oh my dear, you have nothing to fear." early mornings and cocaine. those sounds brought back memories of forgotten feelings.
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| obscreen |
[21 Sep 2009|04:18am] |
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the creature with the hammer head crawled down the dirty hall. it was hungry again and only one thing seemed to satisfy it. no thoughts, no feelings, just action. it had big purple veins in its arms. car alarms went off outside. some dude in the corner was cutting an angel's wing off. "this isn't for you," she told him. "explanations are so useless and unnecessary." just cut the fingers off. the simple-minded ones were always afraid if they thought too hard. so they didn't think at all.
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[15 Sep 2009|01:18am] |
"With his mouth sewn shut, he still shakes his butt
Cuz he's Hitler & Swayze & Trump & Travolta"
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[01 Sep 2009|01:42am] |
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FOR SALE: Anything YOU WANT Painted. 11"x14" Canvas STRETCHED on WOOD. Acrylics. Only $50. Me LOVE YOU Long Time!
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[31 Aug 2009|12:43am] |
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push the needle into the brain. karaoke sounds seep out: sweet dreams. big black woman does the splits. emo chick with lip ring- love is a battlefield. shoulder shake. long islands for $6. pcb is a tropical wasteland, scooters. black road and the trees.
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| if you promise you'll never change, i won't rearrange your brains |
[16 Aug 2009|11:44pm] |
i built a bot to bring me brunch. she smiled, gold teeth shine. sound like wind chimes when she walked. she'd never get bigger like those fleshy ones. i shivered, rain dropped. i think somebody called the cops and they left signs on concrete poles that said "quiet zone." we were praying that the worthy ones would come.
as we cut deeper, we could see the dreams and stardust that was inside. sometimes it was mundane and sometimes it shone like ghostlights. smelled like sulfur. the little gray cat was digging. it had no tail. we watched a fog surround the city from high above the rooftop.
she surrounded the dead man's body with bottles. beer and fear, my dear. he said it wasn't his time yet. they carried the body to the sea and dumped it in, letting the tide take it. little fish with sharp teeth bit at it. they knawed and sawed through decaying flesh, jumping in glee, fins shining under star light, car lights. the van was a dread black, red rust on top. they played a dusty dirge as ghost ships sunk. skunk smell.
"everything's bitter and better now, when the software doesn't crash," she rested her head against my shoulder. it was colder. she had a tiny key attached to a thin metal chain. he accurately predicted and profiled the goat killer. dan the decapitator, the press called him. he always had a mysterious grin.
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[25 Jul 2009|02:02pm] |
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"In the information age, the barriers just aren't there. The barriers are self-imposed. If you want to set off and go develop some grand new thing, you don't need millions of dollars of capitalization. You need enough pizza and Diet Coke to stick in your refrigerator, a cheap PC to work on, and the dedication to go through with it. We slept on floors. We waded across rivers." -John Carmack
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gimpjesus's journal