Monday, December 27, 2004


Haha...A quiz for the dementely insane people....Yup yup...steph has conformed to this new trend!

I made a Quiz for you! Take my Quiz! and then Check out the Scoreboard!

Nothing and Everything.

You are my everything.
The sparkle inside a balloon.
The glimmer of a raindrop,
and the colours of the rainbow afterwards.
You are the floaty feeling,
before I fall asleep.
You are my everything.

And yet...

There are times when you let me down.
There are times when you aren't there.
Times when you are the smoke filling my lungs.
The sinking feeling when I can't quite reach the end.
The ghost in the wintertime,
when I breathe.
The only thing I ever lost and died, trying to find.
You are my nothing.

Wednesday, December 22, 2004

I remember a time when I loved you.
Those are the pictures in my storybook.
The writing is written in blood from my arm.
The cover is made from flesh from my toes and ears.
The binding is veins, pulsing.
I remember a time,
when I loved you.

Sunday, December 19, 2004


I said...Hello?!
Damn these cellphones.
There are no more.
Shut up.
Shut up.
Shut up.
No more.
Too much.
Blame me!
Or leave.
Or be unseen.
In this world.

Saturday, December 18, 2004

Welcome to the epitome of desperation.
A serial killer's look at dementia: society.
When I find what I seek, I will see the world in technicolor.
Falling until the spiral of death is a straight line.
Welcome, gentlemen and ladies, to our catastrophe.

Wednesday, December 15, 2004

There is no plausible explanation for why there is no love in the world.
I blame it on the sun, which blackens our hearts and chills our souls.
The black sun.
Or perhaps,
I should blame it on the media.
What good did that ever do us?
I think
I should count the stars,
just so that I can know all the reasons why
you do not love me.
It's not a terrible burden,
just one that weighs me down,
in terrible ways.
Satin, sequined, princess.
Can I have your attention?
I would like to hear your case.
Don't plea.
Just speak.
And speak wisely,
because the judges are watching.
You are the type that twirls through life,
on rainbow-perfection and polished smiles.
With a tattered sheet that covers up your hopes and dreams,
so that you can be like the rest of the world,
and die alone.
Go ahead.
Smile your simply too-sweet smile.
And watch me make it melt,
into a warped frown.
Disperfect, princess.
This world is harsh, but you wouldn't know.
Would you?
Your too busy,
being fake.
Dear world,

I have an idea of things.
My idea is such that cannot be explained in percise see, I have a theory.
Everyone is just a copy or image of someone else. The people are all the same...I mean, each clique is different and such, but you aren't meant to be with a specific person, just a person in a specific range...there are different types...and a lot of different types, I'll warrant, but they, somehow, all end up having the same lifestyles. Some people have lots of disconnected friends, some have only one. Some people are meant to be widows, some people are meant to have 6 kids. These are just regular occurences. You are meant to have the friends you have, and you aren't original, but you can try to have a voice.
That's all.
Thanks for listening.

Sunday, December 12, 2004

Here today, before your eyes, is the amazing, super-fantastic killing machine.
He isn't very big, nor are his eyes red and glowing.
He's just a kid.
And no, he can't lift a car on his shoulders.
He can't do any flips or jumps or gymnastic stunts.
He's just a kid,
in reach of a gun.
Just a kid,
and young.

Friday, December 03, 2004

I don't feel like anything....
we have a lot of work in school for the end of december before winter break. They want us to work hard...working hard is stupid..