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He walked in sneakers, his shirt stretched out.

Sep. 17th, 2007 | 12:46 pm

Never fails. Another year, more "drama". Not for me, but for those around me... meaning, my ears are plagued with the nonsense of these halls. I despise this place. I don't know why I ever came back, oh wait that's right... my Diploma. That's a biggie. I am kind of dreading leaving this place as much as I hate it... cause I have absolutely no idea what I'll be doing with my life when this is over. School? heh, maybe not right a way. I have had my share of humility and insanity for the past 5 years that I've been here... why would I commit suicide and do it all over again? 

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tread.

Sep. 5th, 2007 | 12:56 pm
location: School, eh.
mood: mischievous mischievous
music: "The Lover And The Liar" - Chiodos

So these are the grounds we’ll tread

Walk upon collapse bones and grow

Older, stronger, wiser than the oak tree in the distance

All we can learn to expect are speculations

Of silence in the darkness

And we’ll lose all in the black

 

Pianos will breathe fire,

And the organs will spill your heart

All on this burnt, October sky

There’s a million hearts just waiting to start breaking

And you never quite know just when they’ll start

 

Shadow’s fall in on himself

With the tears in the cup of elegance

Post script written in black,

And it’s bold

 

Never has November been so cold

So black

So full of deceit.

 

You’re never gonna feel again.

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Violet Violence.

Aug. 26th, 2007 | 01:06 pm
location: Cody Covan's House.
mood: crazy crazy
music: "Coma Therapy" by Strata

Digging your own grave They say.
Limiting your boundaries They say.
Lies.
Jokes.
 
Society knows nothing about you.
 
Better to have no friends, than a lot  of them that don't understand you.
That's your motto, right?
 
Yet, you're wondering why you preserve yourself and escape depression by socializing with the same fruitless non-forsaken individuals that discuss your amount of "godliness" behind your back.
 
Liars.
Thieves.
Sinners.
 
What do they know?
 
One day you're a Christian.
The next you're a sinner.
 
You always tried to keep your nose clean.
But you weren't really, were you?
 
Waiting for them to end conversation with you,
so that you could move onto the real entertainment.
 
Sitting in parking lots, plotting your plan.
Deciding how you'll spend your night.
You've got your best "friend" beside you.
 
He creeps out of the car like a slithering fiend...
inching his way into the store.
He remains un-noticed.
 
It's a small store, only runs on one cash register.
No more than three employees.
But tonight, well tonight there's only one.
 
You've seen this before.
You know how they manage their shifts.
 
Your friend escapes un-noticed, yet with pockets bulging.
 
The "gifts" that he's so selfishly redeemed for the two of you are of miniscule value. 5, 6 dollars.
 
It's the content of the "gift" that makes the bang worth the buck.
 
20 minutes later, you're wiping your noses clean.
straws in hands...
So sweet a taste, you feel it --
with each line, it's like your pulse just got a jump start.
 
You feel refreshed.
Renewed.
Relaxed.
 
It's hard to move.
Your stomach's uneasy.
So nauseaous, yet...
you can't escape the inevitable.
 
You vomit on yourself.
And lie there motionless.
 
There's nothing your can do.
 
5, 6 dollars.
Miniscule value.
Delivers the bang, for the buck.
 
You think it goes un-noticed.
A little secret of yours kept locked up tight.
 
Digging your own grave they say.
Limiting your boundaries they say.
Lies.
Jokes.
 
hmmph.
What do they know?

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"sugar-coated realities" part one of the book I'm writing.

Aug. 26th, 2007 | 05:17 am
location: Basement, attic, garage, and bedroom.
music: "When Girls Telephone Boys" by Deftones.

Alarm reads 7:59 am.
A body, motionless in the bed beside it.
The comforter, a certain shade of green...
stained by your coffee the previous morning.
There are cigarette burns in the jeans that lie on the floor.
Keychain, next to your wallet on the night stand.
Ashes cover the beer can that you used to dispose of the butts.
 
Alarm reads 8:00 am.
Sounds pour out...
A body, once motionless quickly removes itself from the bed.
With one slight swipe all the debris that covered your nightstand
disappears.
Dressed, ready to depart.
Your keys, wallet... right where you left them the night before.
 
Vividly, you remember your dream from the previous night.
Your optimism for the day, deceased like all days before.
Your dream -- one of the contributing factors to that.
 
Frightened by something so vivid, you pull to the side of the road.
"Remember...", you tell yourself.
"It's just a dream."
 
Drunk off your words, you encourage yourself to start the engine, and pull away.
 
Then it happens.
A road block appears.
Caution flags, and EMS vehicles flood the streets.
In the distance you spot two vehicles.
Barely vehicles anymore.
 
You flag down one of the EMS.
Your curiousity will only betray you.
 
"It was just a dream", you repeat to yourself.
 
The more vivid.
The more real...
The more fear.
 
"Sir!", shouts the medic.
You respond.
Body trembling, shaking from fear.
 
"Out of curiousity... the vehicles, what model were they sir.... what year?"
You know his answer all too well.
You've pictured this all before.
 
Your curiousity will only betray you.
 
"I believe one of the vehicles was a 95' Nissan, white. The other.... 03' or 04' Explorer."
 
Could it be.
Was it more than it seemed?
Or were you still, in a deep sleep....
Just waiting, for a proper time to awaken.
 
"It has to be a dream", you're repeating to yourself again.
 
Then it happens.
The radio blaring.
Sounds pouring out.
 
You barely concentrate on the dialogue, you're just waiting for a name.
A name that you know all too well.
 
Your curiousity will only betray you.
 
----------------------------------------------
one week later...
----------------------------------------------
 
Your dressed.
Alarm goes off, but you're already awake.
Shoes are polished.
Beer cans and ashes non-existent.
Bed, neatly made... new comforter and all.
Just this time, it's blue.
Felt it was time for a change.
Something not so... familiar.
 
Jeans no longer torn, no more burns.
Wallet and keychain, still remain on the night stand.
You glance across the room at the answering machine.
One new message.
Press play.
 
It's a voice.
A voice that you know all too well.
"Meet us at two pm....."
Your sleepless, and barely focus on the dialogue.
Time and location....
That's all you have interest in.
 
Coffee simmering in your thermos.
Black as night.
 
You grab your keys, and depart your home for the first time in a week.
You're heading to the location they asked you to meet them at.
 
When you arrive, you find everyone's in the same apparel as you.
Suits, ties.... dresses.
Black... as black as night.
 
2 pm never appeared so dark.
 
Services begin.
Speeches are read.
Tears are shed.
Services end.
 
One last visit.
 
You look down, and read....
"Mary Lynn Barker".
You struggle to finish the rest.
"Rest in Piece".
 
Your shaking uncontrollably.
You collapse.
Breathless, you wish you could go back.
Just one week, just to prevent it all.
But you know that you can't.
It crushes you just like that Explorer crushed her.
 
Motionless.
 
Your curiousity will only betray you.

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Partially Diluted.

Aug. 22nd, 2007 | 09:37 pm
music: Dead Poetic - "A Hoax To Live For"

your eyes lit from the glow of the caller ID on the dresser across the room
wondering which dress you'll choose to wear the night before
hoping all our words will be exchanged
in a single monumentous occasion -- 
A disguise; I wear this mask with no intentions of hiding.
I merely am amused by a clever decoration.


13%

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white lines; the lipstick bleeds perfection.

Aug. 22nd, 2007 | 05:11 pm
mood: thoughtful thoughtful
music: Blaqk Audio - "Semiotic Love"

finding security and comfort in the warmth of a lovers' arms.
holding onto something that we once thought to be forgotten.
giving into all the fading insecurity,
you know how we read the transparent insensitivity.

We never practiced lowercase,
all capitols from here.

Still, as plain as day --

My words disappear.

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Back To School*

Aug. 22nd, 2007 | 04:46 pm
location: North Carolina?
mood: restless restless
music: "7 Words" - Deftones

So why don't you run?


As Of Late--

Cigarettes and their appeal have been lost.
Chino to me is a lot like a fat chick and her chocolate.  Love.
Knowing that life is hassle free poses a new problem; what to do with my FREEDOM?
I've been ridden of a lot of burdens.
It's fantastic.

My heart feels like it could explode.
Joy and laughter, CHECK.
What can I say, I love life right now.

Not having Myspace seemed awkward at first....
But now it's so worth it.
Tags: , ,

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shady inferences.

Aug. 22nd, 2007 | 03:50 pm
location: Allen's Casa de la Loco
mood: awake awake
music: The Used - "The Bird And The Worm"

FIRST POST.

So., here I am... with it all in my head. It's been a long time since I've held an account with the fine folks here at Livejournal. I must say, feels great to not have a myspace anymore. It's like a death-ridden cult. If you have one, you have no soul.

Just ask Tom Anderson.

He's the biggest porch monkey I've ever known to exist (other than fat albert of course).




So here's to a great future,
*Cheers*


Aaron Joseph**

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