Sunday, July 31, 2005

This is going nowhere I thought, she's too drunk to even listen to reason, and without that this whole trip was going very downhill. I knew the age barrier would be a problem, but this seemed to be further amplified while we was drunk, and this was blowing a wind in my brain which produced angry thoughts.
"I told you it was this way"
I observed, as she was not, that pointing in the left direction didn't qualify as a guess on where to go, "Somewhere over there" would not get us anywhere. I had an idea where the street was, which was where we were, and my guess had been wrong. These things happen, but I wasn't a blubbering idiot, I knew this because it was apparent to me that the other two girls were at this time. I couldn't say I was mad at them, I had been their age once and acted acordingly, but I did not feel well at all, and salvaged my ability to stand without puking to go out. So in this state of mind I wasn't the most understanding person.
It made me want to scream, this intricate weaving of glass and concrete, which allows you to see this love you want to find, but still there are these barriers that are seemingly impenitrable to break through.
When she smiles, it reminds me of the fact that every moment is special, and in the mirror of her face I find myself.
Maybe I'm condemned to write on the picture of this thought I give to you, an autograph of my desire. Perhaps, true love is a waiting line and I got there really really fucking late.

Thursday, July 14, 2005

My expectations are so high
Knock me down, I'll hit the ground
And Cry.
You act so cool watching from away
As susie cuts me, she fucks me
To your dismay.
Am I wasting time?
Ceiling fan spins, second hand within
For this rhyme.
Come kiss me
Who we are? We're the stars
I give to thee.
Look in my eyes,
Would I lie? To the sky?
Our love is.

Monday, July 11, 2005

Climbing up this mountain of truth
Oh the things I've seen along the way
Many of days have passed
and the night has gone by
But still I have that gleam of light
that cuts the night residing in my eye
The higher I climb, the more I seem to see
the metel mouth which eats the land
and the red substance which makes up the sea
The more I know the more I loose touch upon myself
The air is thinning as I breathe in objectivism
But at night in my tent, I can't stay warm without irrational love