All Posts from Livejournal Blog: Frequently Mentioned Truths
HOLY SHIT!
accomplished1. Best thing in regards to being single: It’s like, you know, so totally like the old days’n stuff, right? I’m all like: “awww, I totally feel like I never left!”
2. A weird thing that would make being single as creepy as the before – I might actually be, you know… like… better off’n stuff! For sure! … like, weird
3. An actual weird thing: So I totally had this strange dream the other night y’know? Where I was, like, swimming? In the ocean! And fishies were everywhere, y’know? Like, all over the place and stuff, right? Like, and I could totally breathe still. How strange is that? Like, I don’t know! I was laughing and talking and, like, it was cool!
4. A stupid thing: Aliona Hairetdinova
5. So having a formula and basic pattern through which to write goes out the window at #5. You can make a point that your post is about “things” and make sure people realize these “things” each time until #5. Then, like a small child who wanders in during the middle of a movie… you simply are lost.
6. I might get to meet a non-crazy woman.. when i’m, like, 90.
7. I am still sad. It seems to be complete heartbreak.
8. A thought regarding a thought regarding The Two Towers: “Ents are awesome. That’s all I have to say about Ents. I betcha those Entwives are pretty cool too.. running away from cool Ents. Like.. how cool would an Entwife need to be to run away from a cool Ent so far that the Ent would lose her?”
If that was all you had to say about Ents, would you really keep talking about Ents? If you are four years old and can’t contain your energy, sure. But most adults like to look smart. I do. And I do a pretty good job of it, if I do say so myself. Some people, though, can’t help but look like vapid juvinille leeches who can’t dare to have independent thought in their head unless it was put there by their parents, likely with a hammer or a nailgun. Either/Or. Those people can’t help but look and act foolish.
9. People that speak like they are “of the ‘valley'” never sound like anything but ignoramuses. Big, stupid, need-better-education ignoramuses. So, like, you know… go die in a hole. Totally.
10. I love every moment of this part.
thoughtfulempty. nothing large enough to fill that space in the box. three decades passed and that space is still empty. it is a jigsaw puzzle with missing pieces. it was easy to pretend that the space was all a figment of sick imagination. the eyes closed and the emptiness disappeared.
and i was whole again. and then someone started cranking a little lever, pulling the eyelids apart, tearing my flesh, scratching my sight with empty bright light.
god fuck it. let me sleep again. happiness had long disappeared before the screeching levers, you know. i don’t think anyone noticed.
=========Skyler’s Turn=========
black magic
cantankerous. everything small feels like a huge amount of human waste. eons ago that waste was nothing more than space dust, glowing with white noises, metallic in nature. it is not but a figment of a lanyard’s dream. one could easily imagine that nothing was the matter, but the truth would remain like a bulb of hope and dreams, crushed under the weight of human waste. old wounds healed and everything was right as rain.
and i was alone again. but then, what should happen, but a claw digging in at my finger, leaking the life out of my very soul, making me sleep for days without dreams but of a man and a woman both dead and decaying in a endless field of emptiness in a dark and wounded heart, opening old wounds to bleed out for eternity.
gosh darn it. find me a band aid and some antibiotic cream! those dreams were always present, even before the pinprick i’d wager. i simply didn’t take enough care to pay attention.
or:
a kind of cloth pattern that you can buy at ikea
horny. no girl hot enough to help me get off. been a few hours now and i still haven’t wanked one. its as if the world were only full of ugly people and no one attractive. it would be easy to simply imagine everyone was cute with a large rack. i close my eyes and picture a naked supermodel.
and i was jerkin’ it again. and then someone started bitching in the living room, pounding on my door, intimidating me to hurry up, making me open my eyes to the sight of my ugly wife.
son of a bitch. let me masturbate again. my sexual frustration has been around long before i got married to that whore, you know. and i think everyone noticed.
or:
dark star’s curse
parched. nothing juicy enough to quench that thirst. weeks and months have gone past and the thirst still requires a great quenching. it is a dry tunnel with sandpaper sides. it was simple to claim the dryness was nothing more than an overabundance of focus on a single negative aspect of life. the saliva was swallowed and the whistle was wet.
and i was fine again. but then something began scratching steel wool, drying the throat, burning the membrane, tearing my trachea with sharp steely fire.
jesus aitch christ. let me drink again. my throat had been bleeding long before the scratching steel wool, you know. i would assume that it had occurred unnoticed by most.
amused
skylerbartels 