Playground

Gravity

2010-07-12T20:57:00.000-07:00

Blisters pulsates through my senses and when I become seperated from the crowd, I find myself looking at the other side of my soul through an hourglass.
"Where are you going", I asked.
He responded in a foregin tongue I couldn't understand, and left.

Game over

2010-07-12T20:54:00.000-07:00

You lost everyone.
You lost the game.

Winged

2009-09-10T19:00:00.001-07:00

With a whimsical tune that rhymes with tomorrow, the little bird that never could fly pollutes his purest instincts and dazzles an audience. The roaming thunder of clapping and stomping alike tore asunder the stage and rose to his delight. After this there was nothing that crippled his senses and the jagged corners of his wings sprung out to a full-fledged chamber.

Yesterday's Brother

2009-02-24T11:25:00.000-08:00

Yesterday in the midst of the people on their way to work, and on their way from work, and on their way to their girlfirends, and on their away from their boyfriends; I found my brother in the corridor of the wreck of a train. I did not greet him and he did not see me, but I saw him talking to the window to our Mother's physical heart.

He was telling Mother about the women he had met on his journey, and he warned mother about the dangerous ones and the ones that had betrayed him on his quest. Of course my brother was not and would never be on a quest or a journey, but that was the idea that Mother had implemented into his head and that is how he was meant to interpret the world. Because in the end he was the centre of the world, of his world. Just like how I am the centre of my world, in my world. That is how Mother implemented the intepretation of the world I have in me, and that is how I will perceive it.

Lady

2009-02-06T20:33:00.000-08:00

Everything that is lady-like will never like the way I like the ladies to like me. If the ladies won't come to their senses then lady's fingers will lay upon my plate so blue that only lady's toes can stroke them. So lady's fingers that are eaten by the ladies I like are something that I would recommend to strive for, even when everything is soaked up into one solid beam of salt.

apalling

2008-07-01T10:21:00.000-07:00

Garden of Tales, rise from your naked eclipsed superior and face whatever is thrown in your way. Believe in trouble for far down a laugh’s joined pain. Collapse once here in front of me, cover everything that love desired and

pause

in our bodies torn asunder

which one

2008-07-01T10:19:00.000-07:00

it's either this or that,
or that or this;
or both of these,
but none of that.

/Dad

2008-01-01T19:45:00.001-08:00

“We visited an old friend of ours. Actually it was your friend and even then I’m not quite sure you see her as a friend. She’s old so we’re visiting her so that when she’s about to die she’ll remember us and help us into Heaven. When we do the same thing, I wonder who I want to remember when I die.”

First Day of Snow

2008-01-01T19:43:00.000-08:00

“Today was the first day of snow. It occurred while I was on my way home on the train. I didn’t notice the falling as I was too preoccupied reading news that bored me, but I did. what had fallen. It was as if someone had thrown a thin coloured film over the city and I finally noticed the effects of the holiday lights. As I walked outside I realized it was still snowing but very lightly. So lightly I couldn’t see the flakes themselves but clouds that dimmed my sight and cloaked everything within it.

Though some people prefer white Christmases I prefer them black since a white Christmas means a cold one whereas a black one means a warm one.”

Sweets

2007-11-01T20:30:00.001-07:00

"There's a certain kind of candy I really like. It's really salty on the outside which I really enjoy, but after the salt is gone it turns sweet. And even if the sweet makes me less sleepy, I don't like this candy sweet and get bored, so I spit it out through a fence into a river. But out of 6 only one made it."

the what

2007-11-01T20:29:00.000-07:00

I never knew the roofs of the trams were so dirty.

P7150095

2007-07-16T08:01:00.000-07:00

The Four Secrets of the World

2007-07-16T07:55:00.000-07:00

Calling, calling

2007-07-15T03:28:00.002-07:00

“Calling, calling. The flood is confirmed and all we took for granted collapsed along with the old dilapidated building across the river I blew up. Calling, calling. The crash of cars made the golden rules exist no longer and you immediately and desperately started looking for new golden rules. Calling, calling. I didn’t destroy the golden rules, they never were.”

Gluttonous Guilt

2007-07-15T03:24:00.000-07:00

“The gluttonous guilt keeps devouring my consciousness and keeps the same thought cycling in my head over and over again. Guilt to everything. To him. But even more so to you. You, whose lips I’ve never kissed and whose tears I never wiped away. Whose eyes I haven’t even seen.”

Lost

2007-07-15T03:23:00.001-07:00

“The confusion of what to do, what pleases you. How you respond to my stimuli. It’s awkward and uncalled for, but to stop now would be even worse. We’ve already begun and there’s no turning back. Even my body imitates my uncertainty but still moves by the rhythm of my pulse and your breath and refuses to let go. I grasp your fingers and our palms exchange traces and I realize they’re the same. Our friendship was forever damaged as we fell victims for Eros’ chains.”

Constellations

2007-07-15T03:16:00.000-07:00

“Hearts that are crushed and processed into a mixer make a beautiful new formula for my itch. Constellations fibres on a picnic blanket flavours a pillar of innocence.”

Day is Done

2007-07-15T03:15:00.000-07:00

“As little things arise over slightly written clouds of nine, creativity weakens in the lust of the shrine maiden’s first blue moon. Wise will it be when great nights hatch and its many singing voices keeps it from enemy lines. Clutch these walls and praise your existence as many have done before you. The day is done.”

cause of death: blunt object struck to the chest

2007-07-15T03:04:00.000-07:00

“How shameful. My hatred to our vain relationship was overheard by you. And I remember not holding back. The insults teemed down so intensely that you didn’t even have time to breathe. Isn’t it funny how our curiosity of how others perceive us can be so devastating.

But we do share a photo that exuberates our flowed vanity. And all we did was a play. How fitting that your only wish is to become an actor.”

When Mister Clock

2007-06-28T05:22:00.000-07:00

When Mister Clock strikes midnight I seduce him and reverse his hands. Mrs. Johnson is awoken by her screeching alarm, feeds her children, works in her office until her mind is dull and trite, comes home to a family that clusters her for food and gets fucked in an apathetic mood by her husband. When Mister Clock strikes midnight I seduce him and reverse his hands. Mrs. Johnson is awoken by her screeching alarm, and wakes up her husband who will always be on time as the chairman of his father’s company, just like his father, and his son will never be late as the chairman of the company. When Mister Clock strikes midnight I seduce him and reverse his hands.

Palm Tree

2007-04-09T15:31:00.001-07:00

“A gorgeous palm tree in a sude-watered west will bring selfish corruption of death. And even though I celebrate the death of my saviour and believer of fate I redeemed my consciousness and fit into your morning robe.”

Swimming Cars

2007-04-09T15:27:00.000-07:00

“Great birds that clutter the mails build my empire state and could never be like me, in a flower pad of mails. And although clutches and buried thoughts will climb out of their swimming cars, they will flutter and joke about death and that’s what sickness prevails.”

Extinct

2007-04-09T15:22:00.000-07:00

"A glitch in your fantasy will scrap up the dusts and recover the bullets for the same attitude cross a lovely be just like you
I cried for a phobia that was extinct due to a late payment of a watcher in the neighbourhood and example or questions that hygiene of"

Father Thanatos

2007-03-28T16:11:00.000-07:00

Hear me out, Father Thanatos; these are my words to you. I am not your antagonist but I do detest you so, Father Thanatos. Whenever I touch the wings of a butterfly you pull my chains from the shadows. Beware, Father Thanatos, one day I will pull you out with the same chains you pull me with, and reveal your hideous face to the world. That day the life of dreams will bloom.

Fountain

2007-01-07T19:27:00.000-08:00

“Playing in my little fountain of reality will result in dying, just ask my little brother, the one who fell down the staircase the day before Christmas. If he spoke once more I’d question my atheism and mother above, please never let that happen. I’ll close this room which was already shut”

Seasoning

2006-12-30T02:16:00.000-08:00

“People say that if leaves start falling, it’s autumn. So if I rip off all these leaves it’ll become autumn and soon it’ll be winter. Winter is cold, even for people with black hearts that I think should warm my fingertips. So I’ll make spring by lying in the snow in my nighties and melt the snow away. Maybe I’ll die in the process but at least then it’d be spring”

Colourful

2006-10-26T11:43:00.000-07:00

A Priest of Justice is standing. I am sitting. He looks down on me, and fatherly smiles. I smile back at him, letting him believe that we are not equal. He blindly preaches about a continous Truth. He places his hand on my head, as if I were a child or a barn animal. I smile and nod. And nod and smile. And smile and nod. He keeps on preaching. But soon his ranting will stop. Fore he does not seem to notice the beasts that are tearing his body from limb to limb and eating him slowly. He sees the world in black and white when in fact it's oh so colourful.

The Heroes always lie

2006-08-02T22:56:00.000-07:00

Crack open your donout and ask that rain cloud of yours what sense it makes for it to pour its vast and tangled vision of a northern crater where our Man of Destiny lies awake for glory. Rounding up my fellow orange league of rancid baby ostriches could remedy our current wave of sins. I will procure a line of acid squids to vaporize this mansion of illusions that has fogged up your trains of thoughts forever so long. Fret not. There will be no end of this nightmare when you wake up, Man of Destiny.

The Bliss in Chores

2006-06-14T17:53:00.000-07:00

Insensitive makers of chains think that I must make the bliss a chore and forge myself with them to truly find the happiness that was never meant to be. Upon the creation of bliss, one must realize that it is no longer what its true purpose holds, and nothing will come out of it than spite and revenge. Fore there is nothing more to talk about when we're taking the drugs of emptiness I inhale the rich taste of the alluring angels of heaven and hell. Spring free before the screaming beast crushes the bars he's locked behind and disembowels you and heals you for an amount that's not even possible without fried rice in their chicken soup. Be something more than eagles in clichés so leave me be.

Contract

2006-06-11T18:39:00.000-07:00

In the war there is a minstrel that wished for nothing more than his beautiful music to be heard but it's not really that pretty, as a amtter of fact he's a pretty very alot too much bad player. When his voice finally found drought, we could storm the world's siege at once and no more would there be a Scottish sailsman trying to shoot us down with his broken cigarette. Nothing I have nothing more than a purs and a little diamond ring, since that was all we could afford. Cries can justivfy anything except for 2 pesos that will go directly to the source of its income, the eight-handed squirtle Green rusty sunsets wouldn't stand a chance to the hat that something panda of truth in it. Wrap it around your finger and taste the surgeon of a tons of glitches in yoru next package of cereals. Suffering from 9 different STD's I know children but a dog. WWhat do you do? Think also reality like your dodge ball. Indugle me.

Count Count

2006-06-11T18:19:00.000-07:00

“One question is singular. Two questions are plural. But three questions are also plural, and so are two-hundred. That means that two questions are the same as two hundred questions, although I have not asked one-hundred-ninety-eight questions. Then again, those are also just two questions. Do you have a question?”

Spring Clean

2006-06-10T03:55:00.000-07:00

The eternal slumber of an oak tree has finally made my squirell find its way out of the lemming's house. I admire its bravery although it's stappling accross the desert all by itself. Dreams, dreams. Clouds are finally beyond any knowledge of truth. The only possibility of a God is one that does not know that he is God; unaware of his power. He thinks himself to be viewer more than an interactor. Belief of viewer instead of interactor. Is not that also the belief of mankind? Maybe we then are the reflection of God.

I'm rusting

2006-05-31T17:47:00.000-07:00

After chewing my gum 29 times, I realized that the voice that I had told me that anything was fine was gone and here I stood before my 25 Lords, with no reason for my evil doing. If there'd be anything you'd like to add, please send it to the port of out Janitor will quite are school... which are a hassle because I know you wouldn't. Please wake up, you made my face red.

My remnants

2006-05-27T20:18:00.000-07:00

I realized that there is nothing more satisfying than a lonely kitten screaming out for approval of its existence. As I admire its flame while it's screaming louder than my stereo, its lungs start to puncture since it's noticing that no one is actually listening to its request. I do not touch the kitten, fore I am still nothing but a viewer in this little evil play. Question is if it really is a play or not. If not, then it is very cruel of me of letting all these kittens die; over and over again.

Finally when the dawn rises I lie in the pile of dirty socks and my bills seems to have disappeared once again, strangely enough. Silence is broken by an angry hord of rhinos that trample by poor little encaged beetles of trust. Oh well, it'd be a waste to let them go to waste, so I ate them and went home with a smile clipped on to my lips.

Easy makes nothing

2006-05-26T12:13:00.000-07:00

Slivers of happiness was poured in to my tea the other day to make things much more excruciable for the people in my village. As I watched the clouds run by my track of thoughts, I realized that most of the trolleys passing me by were just there to sell me chocolate and beer. When I asked "Is this where the lust lies?", like a snake, it bit my head off when my cellophone was ringing. Ringalingadingdong. Driven by these dead hands pulling me back to waste land I ended my rainy clouds of passion. For glory, there will always be room for more cheesecake.

The Fucking Flowers

2006-05-10T10:10:00.000-07:00

The sun is shining. The bees are buzzing. And flowers fuck all day long. Their massive orgy renders my eyes boiling and nose laminated. It surprises me why nature makes so much effort to resist me. Nuts. Fish. Garlic. Avocado. Carrots. If you don't want me here then just waste me. There is nothing more righteous than the power of my little dock, where you can find my only boat to the vast ocean. It's where I'll lose you and where I'll miss you.

old man clock

2006-05-09T13:54:00.000-07:00

Tick tick tick. Look. It’s a clock. It’s 11 PM. Just like it was twenty-four hours ago. And forty-eight hours ago. And will be twenty-four hours from now. I used to laugh at the clock. “Old man clock, you just do the same thing over and over again... that’s so useless... and boring...”. While I was laughing at old man clock, I worked. And then I went home from work. Slept. Came back to work. Worked. Laughing at old man clock. Went home. Slept. Worked. Laughed. Went. Slept. Came. Worked. Haha! Old man clock. Your purpose surely is useless.

the pride

2006-05-09T09:56:00.000-07:00

I sit here hour upon hour, sipping my tea while watching the pride of a lionized heart pour out of its flesh. It’s quite amusing. Because as long as the pride will run, the heart is satisfied. It looks down on me and my runners alike, because the pride it bleeds fleshes it out. Nothing exists except the heart and its pride. Not even me or the sip of my tea. The flame it burns with soars above skies, a funny illusion from all of its lies.

I sit here, sipping, hour upon hour, wondering what happens when the pride runs out. When the heart dries out and what will become of it. Will it wither away in to oblivion. Or will it heal upon the truths of modesty. I want to know. That’s why I’m still here, sipping my tea, observing its bleed. Fantastic.

slanted

2006-05-09T09:41:00.000-07:00

"Dearest friend: I’ve failed to bring you happiness or a meaning of life. Because when it’s all said and done, we always want meanings. Minced meat. Fry it with spaghetti and decorate with melted cheese. Enjoy my lethal concoction. Hail my water collection and leave big brother in his miseries! If he needs us, we’ll be in the basement, ripping his face apart and robbing him off all his expectations"