"He who makes a beast of himself gets rid of the pain of being a man"-Dr. Johnson
Encontram-se aqui as profundidades de minhas raizes
So before you dive into this EXTREMELY long section of rambling on... and try to form opinions of me, know that I am not really all that upset at the world, in fact I have some great stuff going for me, I like my job... I have been writing some great music... I'm happy and comfortable with my surroundings... life can be uncaring and frigid sometimes...but it can also lend you rest from every obstacle you've had to push your will to it's limit to overcome... I am aware of all of this and respect the power that life harbors... but i liked what I wrote after this... so.... get over it.
"step out the front door like a ghost into the fog, no one noticing the contrast of white on white."
The world is my oyster.... I'm allergic to shellfish...and as the world turns... I've discovered I have motion sickness.... So while I'm vomiting up a lung a dying, please take the initiative to save my life by giving me mouth to mouth.
*A mere 10% reduction in meat consumption by Americans would free up enough land to grow 12 million tons of grain - enough to save the 20 million people who starve to death on out planet each year.
Look over on the couch, with a guitar and a cigarette, is it a bird? Is it a plane? No it's the equivalent of a train-wreck! Its just your average cynical superhero... too apathetic to save the day... *enter cheesy theme music* and his trusty sidekick alcohol. That's right the deflated duo. Your average cynical super hero- with the power to repel females, consume large quantities of alcohol, play in a stalemated band, and smoke a lot of cigarettes while working a job leading to nowhere!
And alcohol- with the power to leave you chubbier, more sluggish, lazier, less presentable, much less attractive and increase your sex drive leaps and bounds.
Constantly fending off the powers of Internet Man, Hiding the Remote-ster, and not enough food in the fridge kid. Today's adventure begins the same way it does everyday, by not showering, and having a cigarette with tousled hair from a worthless preceding night, your hero awakes in a pool of his own sweat, from the nightmare that is his life, alcohol by his side. Watch as the pathetic story unfolds... Someone crush my fucking skull.
Warhammer kicks some serious ass...
I long for the completiion of my creativity... to perfect my art, but also grasp the understanding that such a thing could never happen because I change with time and my artis an extension of myself. I am an artist... to a fault... every cliche associated with it, I find myself fulfilling. I am obsessed with expression. I love singing... i am currently in a band named the mission carpathia, and a band I am trying to piece together called "the western decline". I used to work in a thrift store at a way better point in my life.... I now work at a coffee shop with people I love... but the job I am growing quite weary of. It's on covell don't come in, I am a grouchy, sassy bitch at work. i love 70's and 60's fashion, art, I love doing hair and picking out clothes for gals. I used to drive a 1980 Datsun 280ZX, I also drove a '69 VW Squareback at a way better point in my life... now I drive a '98 Hyunday Sonata that my mother gifted me that I probably could have traded for a pair of roller skates and felt like I got the better half of the deal... that car is fucking garbage, it's fucking breaking and makes more noises than a squeaky toy factory. I love meeting new people. I am in 2 bands of 2 completely different styles, one name "the mission: carpathia" that is middle ground hard stuff but really technical... as far as genres go like a mix between thrice and killswitch engage with some cool technical stuff and some cancer conspiracy influence, a band named "the western decline" which is softer experimental stuff... almost soundtrack like.I am also considering a side projects, writing extreme metal and soft stuff with my best friend. I have tattoos and 00 plugs... and that makes me fucking cool... trust me.... pacify me.... and fuck me.
I wish I could be a bad person that good things happen to... the kind of person people shouldn't love but do...
You have 2 options soldier:
1. Love me
2. Fuck me and leave me for dead
I AM NOT STRAIGHT EDGE, WHY WOULD I EVER PLACE BOUNDARIES ON MY FUTURE when i would much rather let life shape itself, I do not need to try and mold life into something I can comprehend and wrap my little head around, I want it to be awe-inspiring and catch me off guard. I smoke, i love girls.... I drink... and that could go away someday, and I could fall within the requirements of being a straight edge person but why would I call myself such? It's just a strangle hold on the choices that I may one day make, so I will never deliberately open a door that may one day make me a hyporcite or liar... so I say, why would you ever make life something expected? plus... why would you make an elite "super cool club" for something you DON'T do...
"when other rappers just as pale in complexion put their mouth to a mic it's like lips on erection, it sucks."- Grady Bear (me)
I don't eat meat, animal studies show that most domesticated and farmed animals have nearly the emotional capabilities as human... so we will fucking poke them, prod them, inject them with hormones, and fucking slit their throats... and that is ok? FUCK YOU! Cows don't deserve that... meat is dumb. Chickens are shoved into 6 foot by 4 foot pen s... for hundreds of them... and then fed their dead... is this ok? Fuck Poultry.. and fuck you... Fish are HORRIBLY mistreated, and we figure their intelligence is sub par so taking their LIVES from them is ok... and yet we give the handicapped, the "weak" great parking spots... Fuck seafood... fuck YOU! Yer still my friend, otherwise you'd have a whole in your torso and I would be holding a bloody knife and fork.
I am also finding that I am a democratic socialist.
a sentiment to detriment... the grace of bitter tastes... and anguish that can't be tamed... so let's not let it go to waste... ... ...so brace yourself... here comes my undoing... ... ... ...on a 45.
(P.S. I am terrified of spiders.... and being alone for the rest of my life... romantically speaking...)
Praying’s like speaking a language you’ve never learned, never heard, and everything that comes out is just absurd, trying to give your soul some gravity while utilizing a fallacy, holding strong you’re traditions, and the title of righteous Christians, half-truths and persecutions that’s religion, not reality.
So, I am not really this cynical or upset at the world but oh well, it's fun to pretend to be... also, I LOVE NARUTO!!!!!!!
yer not here, and that hurts... hurts like 3D6+1 wounds...
"like dead cathedrals
that are crumbling beneath a weight, ten thousand jaded tourists
who've traded in their hearts and hands for
disposable cameras, set to document to decay,
set to capture just enough of life to catalogue the things we throw away.
"-thrice
the only way to erase a memory is to carve it out of your mind with a knife formed of denial and creating a sense of self-worth greater than the moment itself.-me
And in this seat of peace tumultuous wars
Shall kin with kin and kind with kind confound;
Disorder, horror, fear and mutiny
Shall here inhabit, and this land be call'd
The field of Golgotha and dead men's skulls.-(King John 4.1.145-50)
"love everywhere,
exploding, maims and blinds,
a living dance upon dead minds,
love everywhere,
exploding, maims and blinds,
a living dance upon dead mindsbut surely does not forget(perish),
sleep, cannot be photographed(measured);
disdains the trivial labeling of punctual brains,
but surely does not forget(perish),
sleep, cannot be photographed(measured);
disdains the trivial labeling of punctual brains,why its love;
but at the earliest spear
of sun
perfectly should disappear
who wields a poem huger than the grave?"- e.e. cummings/thrice
Now thou art come unto a feast of death.
(1 Henry VI 4.5.7)
Cry 'havoc,' and let slip the dogs of war.
(Julius Caesar 3.1.275)
It's getting late have you seen my mates
Ma tell me when the boys get here
It's seven o'clock and I want to rock
Want to get a belly full of beer
My old man's drunker than a barrel full of monkeys
And my old lady she don't care
My sister looks cute in her braces and boots
A handful of grease in her hair
Don't give us none of your aggravation
We had it with your discipline
Saturday night's alright for fighting
Get a little action in
Get about as oiled as a diesel train
Gonna set this dance alight
`Cause Saturday night's the night I like
Saturday night's alright alright alright
Well they're packed pretty tight in here tonight
I'm looking for a dolly who'll see me right
I may use a little muscle to get what I need
I may sink a little drink and shout out "She's with me!"
A couple of the sound that I really like
Are the sounds of a switchblade and a motorbike
I'm a juvenile product of the working class
Whose best friend floats in the bottom of a glass-elton john
"From the gas tank to the engine, ambition sets the pistons on fire."-Rocky Votolato
aim-aletterhome
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