L profile picture

L

I am here for Friends

About Me

craving attention/wanting it over with.

My Interests

hehe.. well, what's in a name? a man shall be judged by his deeds and doings, and you good sir would be doing the village the greatest of service by assisting in 'alleviating' the sorrows (brought on by the village's constant pressures and expectations!) of those dawdlers, by sharing calm and solace with those downtrodden angels at the park. u underestimate the importance of such actions. 'unwavering' protector of enjoyment & mirth? the true delinquents will be those aggressive miscreants running around the skirts of the village with swords and guns. and as for myself, i don't know ... my name is so far corrupted from it's original that i in turn will probably show such traits, corruption&crookedness!- William (Billy) Cooney 2007 (C)Ob. theres little i could possibly tell you about your industry that you haven't heard before, or isn't completely uneducated on my behalf. i can however tell you, that as a "educated" guess, your in a rather valuable position, opportunities do come at a price, be that draining or compromising. restore balance, so that "trivial" and the significant just become "circumstance. Fuck, i don't know, "a man's worth, the holes in his nose" ,it was my assignment, to judge, My subject matter, was "to break the western finger"and i compared the life of the western hero, to that of a homeless man, whose hands by the way, where the cleanest had ever seen, which inspired me to glorify the fucking "stinks". This man, had his business go under, as a result of dirty money, his wife had been greedy annually, and his kid's foul language had, led to a court order against him. All these diseased things had been draining through his fingers, like sand. Which apparently makes fine soap. I enjoyed the irony in it. Because when i en quired as to why, he bluntly said, "moist towlets chine, found'em on Monday out side the emporium".Right!, i thought. i had completely idolized this goon, he's washed his hands with the tribulation of mediocre horse shit, and comes up smelling fucking liberal, So for 4 days, the guy bathed like a Vanderbilt, And i had the chance to experience his clean Caucasian hands, holding the direction to social acceptance. which, he tells me has been grim, prior cloth. I experienced his royal week, heroic even....My teacher is just another subject matter,me toxBelinda (Bindi) Cristea 2007 (C)

Heroes:

Tragic stroke of fingernails Lips of sweetened impurity Leaving suck marks and lacerations Sure to breed insecurity Within my protege's insomniac heart In which she tames enormous beasts Eyes, upon calm abduction, Are starving, as ignored children Whet when they stall before my blackened soul And curious as they lay a' near my hungry heart And you, with your insecticides and repressed desire, reckless desire Sparsely, veiled by forgiving trees You watch closely with an endearing mind Inviting in all that commonly bare anguish To the musical chaos of fucking for virginity And to the harmony of loving, locking lips And to all that unwillingly harness guilt Common children under a blemished sun Cursed is the stroke of your tarnished fingernails And catastrophic, The suction From your terror stained lips Perfect in design and lethal in maneuver with your hips touching mine Innocent of shame and censure secure in all

My Blog

Me Without You-brother, sister

Exercise, laughter, work, money, sex, sleep and all the things that keep a human real...if only they could cease without killing me for a few thousand hours and allow me to discover my true creative c...
Posted by L on Sun, 04 Nov 2007 05:11:00 PST

She’s An Injury

she's adoringly un-noticedand continually growing hopelessall summer was boredombetween travel, film and pleasuresand so love is the bitter pill we swallowonce the fever of lust is quenchedyou go unsa...
Posted by L on Wed, 31 Oct 2007 05:27:00 PST

vague vivacity

collapsing under a filthy bundle of paseley print sheetsand launching through the windscreen from atop that very bundlethe smell of patuli and lavender choke my toddler sinusesinto a wall made from br...
Posted by L on Thu, 11 Oct 2007 08:01:00 PST

Dead-lock/Sound-proof

arm bandaged girl in a blood stained blouseand she smells of menstruation.from down the hall she'scoming toward me in a wolf maskmade from torn pieces of denim, varying fades.'hey' she says, in an alm...
Posted by L on Wed, 03 Oct 2007 08:24:00 PST

rusty cage of flesh and bones

I heard whips cracking andi saw sand storminga good wind's blowing but notin my directioni heard big old trucks rattling downa stormy highwayas i lay sick, huddled ina grimey causewayfar in deep the d...
Posted by L on Wed, 03 Oct 2007 08:18:00 PST

for being born

picturesque plagues of innocent morbidityphase in and out of anxious headscoined by heroes like Murdoch and Spellinghaunting the growth of curious mindsand they don't know what they're thinkingbecause...
Posted by L on Wed, 03 Oct 2007 08:08:00 PST

How to Propel Into Surrealism

those eyes began like mirrors and morphed into horizonsthese eyes are the horizon slowly becoming relfectionstale like the dead sea bed and petty like theivesmaticulous and virginal but dishonest like...
Posted by L on Fri, 31 Aug 2007 08:17:00 PST

Wet Christians

My first time in the real OC.www.thescarethescare.com
Posted by L on Fri, 31 Aug 2007 06:30:00 PST

The Path Of Sweet Menacing Peril

In the morning it is black coffee because there is no milkIn the afternoon it is road rage because there mightn't be any sexAnd in the evening it is crude self-criticism and spousal repugnanceBecause ...
Posted by L on Thu, 16 Aug 2007 05:49:00 PST

if there were no mad people Id be mad

at the base of the fire escape there's a small childdrinking from a plastic cup, he struggles to smileand from what I can see there's no father aboutand from what I have heard this doesn't matterin th...
Posted by L on Fri, 10 Aug 2007 09:02:00 PST