can you save us?

from ourselves?

i

have THE most intense morning breath ever. like an angry dragon who just drank lots of coffee and ate lots of unicorns THEN fell asleep watching the colbert report.

volcanic rock.

all i want is somebody to tell me no.
for the superglue to be off my palms.
to stop collecting shards of printed paper.
i want to know nobody.
but my nature is dependent on others.
i only want to be alone forever or with somebody forever.
these awkward breaks in routine make me uncomfortable.
these silent soliloques i profess to readers unknown, all i want is for them to stop.
no more awkward writing styles irritating the literary skin of readers.
i dont want any more fuel to drive the engine that produces these words.
fuel is combustible.
im burning from the inside out.
this isnt an ordinary ulcer caused by an ordinary nervous quirk.
this is the decay of time and thought.
and the result of the mathematical formula of those elements.
i want to silence myself.
to become a plane that has run dry of fuel.
and hopefully crash into something beautiful.
taking down a false beacon for hope.



all i am is a fuselage.
without any engines
or ailerons
or rudders
or landing gear.
im not equipped.
cant take the free fall
cant take the changing winds.
cant take the awkward stalls.
let me crash and burn.. its all i want to do.

"i closed the fucking door to another end"

i write just to forget

nothings the same
nothings the same
nothings the same
nothings the same
nothings the same

my teenage autobiography

I was a little too tall
Couldve used a few pounds
Tight pants points hardly reknown
She was a black-haired beauty with big dark eyes
And points all her own sitting way up high
Way up firm and high

Out past the cornfields where the woods got heavy
Out in the back seat of my 60 chevy
Workin on mysteries without any clues
Workin on our night moves
Tryin to make some front page drive-in news
Workin on our night moves
In the summertime
In the sweet summertime

We werent in love, oh no, far from it
We werent searchin for some pie in the sky summit
We were just young and restless and bored
Livin by the sword
And wed steal away every chance we could
To the backroom, to the alley or the trusty woods
I used her, she used me
But neither one cared
We were gettin our share
Workin on our night moves
Tryin to lose the awkward teenage blues
Workin on our night moves
And it was summertime

And oh the wonder
We felt the lightning
And we waited on the thunder
Waited on the thunder

I awoke last night to the sound of thunder
How far off I sat and wondered
Started humming a song from 1962
Aint it funny how the night moves
When you just dont seem to have as much to lose
Strange how the night moves
With autumn closing in

brilliance.

No Subject

----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: ..R.A. ..
Date: Aug 25, 2008 7:57 AM

i understand you probably dont want to read this message... or you just didnt read this message and threw it out. both are understandable, considering writing this message isnt on my list of things i was looking forward to. you dont want to hear about my life since january or so, and to be honest, i dont want to hear about yours. the purpose of this message and the impending series of messages to come is solely for closure. its been almost 9 months. im over it. im over what was once known as "us". i guess i just would like to know the series of events that went on in your head that led to the end. if you care to know what went on in mine, you can ask. and ill tell you. 100% truthfully. i know we both saw it coming. for months. it was just a shallow sloping downhill til we hit rock bottom and couldnt sink any further. i think it would do us both better if we knew what the other was thinking. so we can save ourselves the same trouble in both of our respective future relationships. im sorry for my part in the sad ending in what was once a happy relationship. and im sorry you became increasingly distant to the point where i didnt even know you anymore. in turn causing me to distance myself from something so unsure and unstable. I would call you, but honestly.. i dont know your phone number and dont care to ever have it again. i dont hate you. i know you probably hate me. and thats ok. im sorry you expected me to crawl back to you everytime. i know you think you came out the winner.. but thats not what its about.. because we both lost. i dont want you back. i have no desire to ever see you again. but i really hope to get a response to this. take care and best of luck in whatever it is that you are doing with yourself


Name: danielle .. http://www.myspace.com/awesomeallthetime
Subject:
Re: No Subject
Body:

That message made very little sense. You said you're over it so what's the point of even contacting me? Things just didn't work and its as simple as that. Mostly because from the beginning I felt that I was obligated to stay in California with you. The whole relationship was based on guilt. At least on my end. That's why it didn't work, because I never really cared. When I came back to Colorado I didn't want you to come back with me, but I didn't want to tell you because you sacrificed a lot for us to have what we had, and I wouldve felt like an asshole not inviting you back to Colorado with me. Yeah its shitty, and I'm not a good person in that regard. But at least it ended sooner than later and we went our respective ways

standing still in the middle of a moving room

im here. i have no idea where here is.. but its where i am. im not moving either.. and if i am, its at such a slow pace to the point where it doesnt even register on a spedometer. i was laying down. now im crawling. but i want to stand. i want to run. i want to fly. i want to soar. i am a caged condor. ive spread my wings before, but theyre confined to my sides in this current cell. i want to move forward. away. from everything i was. from everybody i know. into comfortable conformity. i want to surrender my rebellion to the teen years. im an adult stuck in high school. i just want to escape. i dont even talk to my classmates. theyre all 16. all too busy throwing paper airplanes at the teacher. or play fighting with girls to establish a close sense of comfort. even if theyre 21 or 26 or 27, this citys air is a pathogen for repression. my heart aches at the thought of soaring above all this. leaving all anchors and tethers and training wheels behind. just me and the cool pacific breeze hitting my face. eyes closed. mouth pursed into a silent smile. knowing that 1000 feet below me is sure death. and 2000 miles ahead is new life new land new opportunity.


i wish i were a bird. so i could rise above this room coagulated with empty dreams and heavy hopes.


im here. here is where i am.

in reverie

now i walk on golden brick roads. the masons finishing each section the second i step, then removing the new path after i pass. so nobody else can share my ground undeserving of their feet. now when pupils meet pupils, my gaze is no longer cold. instead of wearing rags eating tablescraps drinking 3 day old water out of a rusty pail, i sit in a leather chair in a striped cashmere sweater. sipping on a glass of 1897 cabernet sauvignon. im taller now. my smile is full instead of empty.


i am the rising son.

#5

she is beautiful. not in the gaudy sense of the word... but beautiful in the classic sense. she is definitely way too beautiful to be here. with me. while picturing amber trenton out of this context, i see her descending cedar staircases in the atrium of the titanic, milky pearloid dress flowing. as if the air moved around her. she belonged with a sophisticated man in a successful suit holding an expensive bottle of wine, guiding her down the stairway from heaven by the light branch that was a hand. attached to a gloved arm that was a limb. in my imagination, i can see myself yearning to be that man. to offer my hand. to take her to classy restaurants with overpriced menus and undersized portions. to order things i cant even pronounce. to retire to a summer cottage in the hamptons. and a winter cabin in aspen.


its 6am. its cold outside. snow falls heavily, silently outside. you cant even hear it hit the gutters. i touch the window.. ten degrees farenheit is my guess. i look at her. all the cold mayhem culminating in climax outside the window is immediately offset by the warm serenity i see in my lap. i touch her cheek as if to make sure shes real. she is. all of a sudden, a swirling tangerine warmth melts me. all the collective ice is dusted off. i feel my skin tone start to brighten to a deep hue of orange. i feel warmth in my fingertips for the first time in months. i feel alive for the first time in weeks. she should be in 1912 in the grand foyer of the titanic. with an audience to marvel at her beautiful radiance. but instead... shes with me. on a cheap berber carpet. in the middle of colorado. in the middle of a blizzard. decay surrounds her. including myself. i am the casket of myself. merely looking for the next body to swallow until i become full again. then i will digest my food and look for the next meal. I immediately feel cheap. my existence is a burden on her life. she should have never known me. never met me. she deserves a prince of scotland on a noble steed to sing her to sleep everynight. not some animalistic habitual over consumer of alchohol.

I wake her up in my silent rage. she somehow hears the gears in my cerebrum grinding together. to mesh gears is impossible. i catch the worlds most heartbreaking glance from the eyes of what could have been a baby doe. the most beautiful, serene, compassionate of all baby doe. this nice woman... the one who fed me. housed me in my homelessness. it takes a moment for eye contact to become established. her tranquil pools of eyes see right through my intelligent, calculating, stone cold glare. i boil her pools with my white hot glance. not being able to take the heat, her eyes avert back my bare chest. she places her hand there. i close my eyes. on the back of my eyelids, i see figure eights being drawn on my sternum and broken hearts drawn on my thigh. i mean the world to her. she means nothing to me. i oil my mechanisms, ice my heart with hate, and sleep soundly to dreams of coffins swallowing bodies whole

where the heart is.

these are freewrites i wrote today in my english class. basically what a freewrite is, is a 3 minute time slot where you just write and dont stop to think. it represents two parts of me..





I have nothing to offer. Nothing concrete. I have intangible traits the world may see as both amusing and irritating. but that alone doesnt pay the bills. I wish that somehow i could assign a monetary worth to the golden traits i possess, along as a detrimental value to the black, icy, soul-less traits i choose to ignore and disown. If I were a colorful character in the setting for somebody else's life, I would be a circular, two dimensional black amorphous blob. Shallow to the eye, but expanding in depth for eons. a black hole. the remnants of a star that was once a scintillating ball of character.






I am bright. intangibly bright. unfathomably bright. not in intellect, but in my existence. I am the north star. a beacon for billions. even the true north to which other stars orient themselves.
I feel alone in the night sky. Vulnerable. Undying. I wish to only revert back to nebulic premature form. In the form of a supernova. taking out as many stars and people as i can on my way out in a massive explosion. giving them nothing in which to orient themselves. I orient myself around me. there is no greater compass in existence except myself. Iron cant even disorient me.
















i had nothing intellectual or factual to write. so i fill in the blank spaces with words ive already spoken to the paper.

uppers and downers.

school started. and with it also started a list of money troubles. basically heres the trouble... i have none. no money for books. no money for food. it keeps adding on... im waiting on my background check to clear at nugget just so i can start working. at least to FEEL like im progressing towards improvement.. even if im not. oh yeah, my phone got shut off last night too.. now i cant talk to certain people i really want to talk to all because im an idiot with money. well school sucks. it feels just like high school which is the part that sucks. as far as classes go, it seems pretty chill. i have what i presume to be an awesome english teacher. my speech teacher seems pretty cool too.. my jazz teacher is a total dick. my political science teacher seems like a total egotistical moron. and my history teachers voice puts me to sleep, even if he has something interesting to say. i want to fast forward two years so i can be out of state again. going to some school where i know nobody. actually doing things with life instead of feeling like im constantly stuck in this planning stage. im doing everything the right but still feel like im losing. i guess thats what latent success is though..



oh yeah i stopped claiming that whole "celibacy" route of life weeks ago. celibacy isnt for me... although i wish it was. matter over mind? mind over matter?


i need to meet someone new.

tuesdays gone.

this is the last REAL weekend of summer before school starts tomorrow.. and so far, I've been very happy with it. friday night, I did literally nothing except drink mass quantities of kool aid and play call of duty 4 alllllll night while listening to cartel. I get a phone call from a friend that they're drunk and need a ride home so justin lets me drive his car to some lame party and I go in to pick them up and then I'm told that they don't want to leave yet so that was pretty cool. then jake came home and we had hilarious talks and watched the aqua teen movie til about 4am when we both just fell asleep. saturday, I started the day off right with lots more kool aid and call of duty. I'm such a video game addict. I like feeling like I'm 12. then me and jake hit the mall where I saw dave taylor. that was pretty nice... I haven't seen him in a loooong time and we used to be very close friends so catching up with him talking about school was awesome. saw paul and zach p there too. we were looking for a move "the stoned age" but no dice. we've looked basically everywhere so if you know a place that sells it, let me know.. jake went to work... justin came home from work... I got a ride to pauls. we got picked up. we rode in the give em hell van to the vfw for the hoods show. picked up mikey along the way and he drove the van WASTED drunk then they pulled the ol driver swap without stopping on the freeway. get to the venue and this really nice girl sara and she bought a bottle of soco and doctor pepper. me and paul drank half the bottle in five minutes. said hi to a bunch of familiar faces I haven't seen in years then went inside to the bar. I don't know who kept giving me beer but literally for about 2 hours I didn't have an empty cup nor did I stop drinking. pitcher after pitcher. then some bands played and I was drunk enough to get ridiculous. all the getting wild didn't mix to the tons of beer in my stomach too well... but I held it all down like the champ that I am. after the good times and singalongs, it was back to the bar for lots more beer before last call and 90s singalongs. I must have cheersed the whole bar by this point and it was pretty fun. then brandi came through in the clutch with two 12 packs of pabst and I must have had about 3 of them on the way from the vfw to mikeys house. I don't know what I did, but I pissed the gas station attendant at the arco pretty fuckin bad.. oh props to brandi again for the funyuns and doritos. only thing I ate all day. I chilled at the hoods house for a minute then decided I wanted to get back to vacaville. so around 4am, I found myself home. woke up at 8am this morning still drunk and I went to the state fair with my family and that's where I am now and its AWESOME.

this place is a prison.

this place is a prison
and these people aren't your friends
inhaling thrills
through $20 bills
and the
tumblers are drained and then flooded
again and again
ther're guards at the on ramps
armed to the teeth
and you may case the grounds
from the cascades to puget sound
but you are not permitted to leave
i know there's a big world out there
like the one i saw on the screen
in my living room late last night,
it was almost too bright to see
and i know that it's not a party
if it happens every night
pretending there's glamour and candelabra
when you're drinking by candlelight

what does it take to get a drink in this place?
what does it take, how long must i wait?

belated.

here are some pictures from that trip i took a few months back. the photos range from colorado to monterey to louisiana so enjoy. hitchiking is wild..

rechargers.

do you ever feel like you're drifting? not in the literal sense or even the most apparent figurative sense... but in the solitudal sense? lacking compass? somedays I'm up, some I'm down, some I'm right, some I'm left, some I'm wrong. but I'm always drifting.

tonight I felt home again. I drifted into the island that was my youth. and my youth was revived for a few hours. I was just happy. it felt as though I still had futures to look forward to.. and that I was with my peers in that time of nostalgia was so.... euphoric. same people I hung out with when I was 15... plus a few people, minus a few people. but overall, the same base core group. we played baseball. like kids. I swear to you, the entire time I was playing baseball from 10pm to 12am, I was benny the jet rodriguez in sandlot... hitting the ball while the rest looked up at the fireworks. I was just happy to be playing. happy to be with good friends. happy to be alive. happy that the weather lately has been so beautiful. that basically all those new kids that hang out are actually pretty cool and nice compared to drifters that drifted into our realm of drifthood in the past. we're all drifting... might as well team up and make a raft. this whole experience was so flattering and euphoric that I opted to ride the longboard home. alone. so I could savor the moment. samples of past summers speckled my ride home. getting hit with sprinkler water... seeing the newspaper delivery man... hitting a piece of tanbark and falling... 82 degrees on an august evening.. with not one care in the world. can it get any better than that? I was 14 again... even better, I was on the good half of 14. innocent still to the fullest extent of the word.

there was a party that everybody was going to... but I couldn't bring myself to have the heart to inject that much jade into a night and mentality so perfect. so I came home. told my mom I loved her. drank tons of water. and went up to my room to watch anchorman.

savory summer smile sits still on my face.

your eyes are blind... but you see more than I..

I had my interview this morning at nugget. it went very well... I submitted permission to run a background check on me.. so when that's done in a few days, I'm getting a call where a job offer will be made to me. after that, I start working. that guy sean is really nice.. and really cool. seems like he'd be a great guy to work for/with. ill be stationed in vacaville for a little bit.. until I get a car... then I get to move between stores from vallejo to elk grove and cameron park. I forget how small of a company nugget is.. and how awesome of a place it is too. I'm pretty excited on having a delicios panini everyday for lunch. so heads up... if you occasionally steal from nugget in vacaville, stop. friends or not, its my job and I take it pretty serious. so this is fair warning to everybody, don't shit where I eat. don't ask me to LET you steal. its not going to happen. go somewhere else or you'll get caught.


yesterday was pretty cool. woke up to some ryan drinks on the table. and some ryan in the fridge. I ryanned the ryan then played call of duty all day til bubbas bbq pool party. lot funner than I expected and the hot dogs were AMAZING.



baseball tonight 10pm at arlington park. I hope to see you all there.

double the morose hold the sunlight

I don't know where this one lane highway is leading me. all I know is that the destination is set in stone.

another weekend..

so friday I did nothing EXCEPT that I got to drive from 2am to about 4am. jake had some thoughts he needed to get out and at the same time, needed to get his mind off shit so I was at the helm commanding theeeeeee ol vw around vacaville listening to lots of metal. it was nice. saturday, I woke up and played call of duty...all fucking day til around 8 when jake got off. at hq, me jake justin james and some girl dyana who was 26 years old kicked it. me and jake drank 1 1/2 handles of captain morgan to ourselves that night. jake had sex with aforementioned girl. which I'm glad of because she wouldn't shut the fuck up and stop talking to me like I wanted her to, so I was forced to be an outright dick to her so shed leave me alone. she was raised christian and unfortunately is still brainwashed so I chose that as my rant fuel. I got her to "not want to talk about it anymore" within 10 minutes. I rule. I don't try to spread atheism or agnosticism, I try to spread open mindedness... which apparently, she isn't into. she seemed so sheltered and naive for a 26 year old. almost like she was actually 17. anyways... I woke up around 11am sunday still drunk and saw two glasses of coke and rum on the table..... of course I finished them. then, I polished off poor james' mickeys 40 he had in the fridge. then jon chase and some mexican fool roll through hq and chill. then sam peasley comes through hq and picks me up and we make our way to danville? I was real real drunk. I guess it was some girls house party/show that sams band was playing. we get there and there's literally nobody there and its 2pm and I'm pickled drunk. I wind up covering my BLACK jeans in nacho beans and cheese and sauce which is awesome. I remember asking every idiot girl there to go buy me mint chip ice cream. I remember talking shit to the birthday girl about the lack of food. I remember gettin semi fun for sams band. his bandmates are chill too by the way. I remember playing with lil baby doggies more than I was socializing with people. I remember being a fucking dick to everybody there. and hitting on the mom. then, after sams band played, we bounced up back to vacaville. a general rav 4 consensus determined that, in fact, it was a good to make a "show boobs" sign and hang that bad boy out the window. after many middle fingers and hateful glances, some guy in a truck came through by showing us his h kit complete with a hypodermic needle for injecting heroin. that was pretty gnarly. we get back in town and go play baseball at arlington. I get into it at first, then I sobered up around 6 and hated my life from then on. I was being realllllll mean to every girl there because I hate girls. then we went back to hq where call of duty 4 was in full effect... along with some girl I had sex with RANDOMLY showing up and hangin out? a trek to the liquor store proved to be worthwhile... another 5th of captain morgan to add to the half handle we had. me and jake proceeded to drink all of it. jake had 2 glasses because he was on that other stuff too. I had 5 at last count... and I make very strong drinks, if you know me. then me and jake decided to walk to safeway for food. we get pretzels (which are sitting next to me) and we walk out toward hq when we swipe a target cart and start pushing it. jake thinks itd be an amazing idea to strip down to boxers and walk home to hq wearing nothing but boxers, eating pretzels, pushing a shopping cart filled with our belongings. we get about halfway when a cop rolls up on us. bam. drunk in public. they make me put on the ol jeans, jakes too busy being a trainwreck drunk so he gets taken to jail. I hold my liquor like a champ (I lied and told him I only took 5 shots) so the cops let me go on the condition my mom picks me up. mom gets there and laughs at me for walking around in my underwear at 430am.


and now I'm in bed about to sleep.

I think

I'm gonna start writing everyday human experiences in here rather than deep outooks and ideas. I live a relatively wild life and I want to be able to read this thing when I'm older and know what I did. so I can feel young again when I'm repressed. so from now on... experiences with the occasional injection of depth and rant.

when you're lying awake at night

anxiety makes it harder for me to sleep at night nowadays. I have no idea what I'm even anxious of... I have no trials or tribulations to face anytime soon. couple my anxiety with me drinking WAY less often, and my eyes might as well stay open. I know some of you don't like hearing about me and my drinking habit because it sounds pathetic and probably cheapens your view on me, but I really don't care... because for the better or the worse, it is part of me... no matter how ugly and heinous it is. I stand for everything the world sweeps under a rug. that being said... its safe to say that my drinking binge starting on january 21st is successfully over. as of about a week ago. during that tenure, the longest I was sober was 24 hours at a time. and now, my willpower for school has taken over and I only drink on weekends IF I WANT TO. I'm not an alchoholic, I never was. anybody who habitually drinks a lot isn't an alchoholic. I've seen alchoholism. I've been close. if you don't wake up after a 2 hour booze nap at 7am and start SHAKING due to lack of alchohol, you're not an alchoholic. if you don't puke when you're sober, you're not an alchoholic. if you don't get fucking MIGRAINES due to alchohol deficiency, you're not an alchoholic. it sickens me when people I know or my peers claim they're alchoholics. like its something to be proud of. its a disease.. a psychosomatic psychological disorder. you subconsciously convince yourself of the need for alchohol until it becomes so routine that normal is a stretch... since its in the subconscious, you don't go around claiming that shit like its a fucking medal. show some respect for the hell that people suffer and don't degrade it with your 18 year old trendy presence. if its wishful thinking on your behalf, I feel pity for you. to want to be in that category of humans so degraded and jaded by the world that they HAVE to turn to substance. now I'm jaded... and I'm degraded... but I'm not weak enough or dumb enough to turn to inanimate objects out of necessity. I have my thoughts. I have my writing. I have my friends whom I love. I have my family. I'm selfless and alchoholism is a selfish mans disease. caused by being selfish. nursed through selfish acts. sometimes I feel like I'm the only person in the world left with any conscious thought. unbiased, conscious thought. I see the world on a level playing field and it seems as though I'm the only one calling the right game.


OPEN YOUR EYES.

night prowler.

You don't know me but you'd like to
Why'd you think I stood beside you?
Not concerned with how this might fall
Nature become prowl at nightfall

When the sun begins to dim
And eventually the day dies
And the mood prepares to sway
That's where another way lies
Glow of the liquor store lights
Set the scene for no rights
Let's convene, discuss the scheme
And hope it flows how we dream
Tonight can make or break you if you let it
Someone set it out for you to let it out
Now don't regret it
Get embedded to the back drop
Positioned there with your cash crop
Envision night as the last stop
Don't miss the train
It's time to gain, strain, aim, fire
Blame, reign, fuck and then retire
I'm liar past eleven, after one I'm on the run
Till the sun comes up tomorrow
I'm working, you're having fun
Not too devious, but that's me
Spontaneous if you ask me
But then again, I'm blending in.

Step to the beat, walk to the beat
Talk to the beat, live to the beat
Rock to the beat, fuck to the beat
Dance to the beat, pay to the beat
Fight to the beat, you get l-l-lost to the beat
Police walk the beat, kill to the beat
Steel to the heat, terrorize kill no retreat
Prowl to the beat, how did a V-O weak scandal oh spray vandal
Walk the streets I hear footsteps on the streets
Someone's following me on the streets
Like racism on the streets
Can't even have a new car on the streets
Police prowl on the streets
They got you sittin' on the streets
Runnin' ya L's, what in the hell?
Runnin' on tell, they see a black man they get scared as hell
Like did somebody escape from jail
You feel em' prowlin' when you walkin'
Some rooms when you walk in like boom
I wanna just break shit, I wanna re-create shit
I wanna take shit you say and use it against you
Act a damn fool like crackheads do
Like your mama do

You don't know me but you'd like to
Why'd you think I stood beside you?
Not concerned with how this might fall
Nature become prowl at nightfall

Dusk, thus the beginning is on until dawn
Trust regardless of the daily
Really nothings wrong
I'm still breathin' and here's another evening
From the fortress
I leave for my course of tonight's achievements
There's no grievance in my pocket
Just a couple of dollars, a pen and hopefully my wallet
Because my man over here has got the hook up at the front door
Long as my ID's right what more could they want for?
Yeah we in there
Like fluoride, off the wall on the left side
A room full of pride, I'm consumed by the tune applied
This fuckin' DJ is tight man
I can already feel the minutes being added to my life span
MC Lyte paper thin drink tickets from the staff
Now it's time to make a friend and see if I can make her laugh
Hey princess, I got a lot of dialog
So I'm gonna line it up for you to get high and try to follow
Light up another false sense of security
Play a game of twenty questions
You can test my purity
And as the world comes down on me
And as I go down on her… night prowler

I'm out when the freaks come out
Way after dusk
After the time when the opening acts get they time to bust
The nightshift I prowl and observe like the owl
Surroundings minus the scowl
Wise and well endowed
In the mental! Well renowned
Ghetto pass every town
PSC! Nice 2 meet you, oh you know about this wow!
Your ex-boyfriend showed you all about this how?
Can I thank him for training such a beauty
It fits my style
Compliments exchanged
Plus 5 dollars change
Signed my name on the poster
And I kept it in the holster like I'm supposed ta
Now, what would you do in the clutch
If you get a pussy hug after dusk?

You don't know me but you'd like to
Why'd you think I stood beside you?
Not concerned with how this might fall
Nature become prowl at nightfall

four hundred thousand more to die.

angel of death.
marr to the kingdom of the dead.
sadistic butcher.
angel of death.

decay.

evans awoke in a violent stupor. high noon arrived, and so did the searing burn and choking heat that accompanied it. time to stand up. looks like a good day to suffer. backtracking, he started at the eyelids then found himself at his cerebellum. dreams ten thousand years long flooded his cerebrum in an instant. the night was a let down. going through the cerebral archive, evans put the movie deteriorating his mind on pause. it was an old man. but not old in age. the wrinkles.... they stared at him. beckoning. wanting to be noticed. acknowledged. needing an audience to tell tales older than the wrinkles themselves. older than the author. tales of pain. anguish. jade. evans saw this man in his head... along with the canyons that were wrinkles. eyes and expression are useless when you're a walking wrinkle. a bad example with no soul. a harsh display of reality to the rest of the world. evans saw his face on this old man. he felt HIS face for wrinkles.

william evans looked at the barstool he was sitting on with contempt and dismay. he stared at it for a long time. really, the barstool was sitting on him. the tumbler of jack daniels was drinking him. the barkeep was keeping him. the bar was barring him. all built on the wrinkles of others. he looked at all of this....

then he finished the tumbler and ordered another.

its 730 am.

in public school, I'd be driving to school by now.


not much legal or licit has taken place tonight.