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[Sunday the 22nd
] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 ecstatic |
] |
Italy was fucking UNBELIEVABLY AMAZING. I can't even begin to explain or describe it, so I'm not even going to try
<333333333333333333333333333333333
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[Sunday the 9th
] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 hyper |
] |
( You know what you've got? )
I'm so fucking passionate about everything and I just want everyone else to feel the way that I do
I just want everyone else to be so fucking full of LOVE all the time; all the time, and you won't know what to do with any of it, because how can you? How can you possibly know what to do with all of the love in the entire world swimming inside of you at all hours of the day, simmering, bubbling, waiting for that one moment where it'll finally be given life and become a giant fucking tidal wave bursting forth from within my mind and heart and it'll just crush everyone and cover them completely and totally, until they're drowning in love;
they won't have a chance in the world.
and I always get like this; I always get like this, because I've just been sitting here quietly, almost unnoticed. I haven't said anything in such a long time, but sometimes it just becomes far too much to handle anymore, and there comes a point in every man's life where he can no longer stand things as they are and feels the heavy and inevitable, pounding pressure of much needed change slowly but surely beginning to crush him. He feels it, softly at first, as if a tiny moth batting it's wings just within earshot, and it can be ignored, of course. But as time goes on and he sees things, really sees them, the buzzing and batting seems to be moving ever closer with every tick of the clock, and there's nothing he can do but bite his lip and attempt to put it out of his mind. He can't, though; as everyone knows, upon attempt to extinguish a flame, smother a thought, it always pops back up, worse than initially, until it's all you're able to think about. It parades throughout your mind, constantly, as if taunting, until you're driven either to the brink of insanity or to rash and seemingly unjustified actions. Unjustified, that is, to everyone but you; unjustified because it's simply impossible to see things in any other way than in the light they're initially presented in, of course. It's a fruitless task, so why attempt to understand thigns which present themselves as challenging? Why bother understanding anyone else and why they are the way they are, why they are WHO they are; why fucking bother loving anyone in any way at all? I mean, of course we just die, and it's a well known fact that nothing at all happens after death. It's clear and concrete, the fact that we've been put on this earth simply to live and die in a constant state of unhappiness.
Wake the fuck up.
Open your eyes and see things for more than what they initially seem to be. See PEOPLE for who and what they are, not for what we'd like them to be and not for who we THINK they are, but for who they really and truly are. And of course doing this isn't a simple task, but those things in life which are truly and actually satisfying aren't that way because they're handed to us as soon as we ask; we workworkwork, not sleeping or eating until we've actually been met with whatever it is we first set out on; until we're happy. Because honestly, life is not as complicated or as hopeless as we want it to be. We're all fucking masochists and it can't even be denied or disputed with, not at all; we think in constant terms of pessimism and won't let anything turn out the way we want it to, we won't let it. We take the ever impossible route, despite the fact that the sound and stable route is only a few blocks down. We do not do this out of need and desire for challange, we do it because we like being unhappy. We like being unhappy, and it's true, don't say it isn't, but we do it because we're afraid.
We're afraid of just about everything; we think that if nothing, absolutely nothing at all works out in any of the ways that (we think) they should, at least we hadn't gotten our hopes up. (Things do turn out for the best, though; trust me, they do, and I know you've heard this a million times before, but you just have to give them time.) Our constant state of cynicism is established as a sort of method for predicting the horrible, gruesome, deadening effects of every situation we're ever faced with, because more than anything else we're afraid of uncertainty. Most of what we fail or regret to do is because we have no way of deciphering the outcome. We're afraid that things will turn out exactly the way we don't want them to, so we don't even state the risk that they might turn out exactly the way we do. We're so fucking scared, absolutely terrified of the unknown; it's a full blown phobia, it is, don't even say that it's not. We're so afraid of life, is what it really comes down to, because we have absolutely no way at all of knowing how anything is really ever going to turn out. But here's a thought:
try it
Try things, despite their risks, and you'll see first hand how they turn out. And if the results are less than satisfying, hey, at least you tried, right? Because by not even giving it a second thought, you present a new, markedly worse end result: what if things had turned out the way you had hoped? What if you had taken the chance, and the result had been even better than what you had wanted? Well, the fact remains that you haden't even bothered, so you'll never really know, will you?
No, you'll never really know.
Love, especially, is something I can never seem to get out of my mind. Not ever; even with all of life's constant comotion you'd think for at least a second the thought would slip away and I'd be without it. Surely for one single second it would disappear, even if it were to return with the next. Well, logically, that does seem the case, but from experience I can tell you that things do not work out that way. Despite my actions, feelings and the millions of other thoughts constantly swarming and swimming thoughout both my concious and subcous mind, the thought of love, and everything connected to it, is ever present.
And I can honestly say that I mean this with every fiber of my being: I feel like there isn't anyone left who understands and is able to experience love like we do.
I feel like no one else is allowing themselves to feel it as fully and as wonderfully as it's supposed to be felt, and it makes me so, so sad. It's being so fucking cheapened, more so every day, because no one understands it, and why the fuck aren't you taking the time to try? It's more important than ANYTHING else in the entire world, I really, really believe that more than anything else, and I'm going to do whatever I have to to make everyone realize and remember how insignificant everything really is in relation to this. How has love weakened on such a grand fucking scale, and how is it that everyone is allowing this to continue? I honestly cannot understand any of this, not at all, and I'm never going to attempt to because it's fucking blasphemy.
I've always felt this way, but it's coming to a fucking head and something HAS to be done, things cannot continue on in this way for one more second, not if we want life to continue on with any meaning at all. At the pace it's already been happening, in no time the concept of love will be a far distant one, and how is anyone okay with that? It's been so significantly weakened through the wear and fucking tear of it's constant and meaningless use. So much of it's meaning has been lost due to the extensive nature at which we use it, and the sad thing is that, more often than not, we don't even mean any of it.
Love is such a wonderous, awakening, magnificant thing and I really feel that my whole life is absorbed in and revolved around it; I can't help it. It makes you feel so alive and young, no matter the circumstances, and it really, really puts everything back in perspective. Stop being so afraid all the time and let yourself feel things! And feel them as powerfully and as sharply as you can, because any other way will not suffice and cannot even come close to comparing with how awake, alive and in sync you feel in relation to life and to the rest of the world.
I need to change the fucking world, and I'm going to, because people need to see exactly what it is they're forgetting and leaving behind.
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[Wednesday the 1st
] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
thrilled |
] |
| [ |
music |
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sublime |
] |
I'm the happiest I've ever been whenever I'm around you (which is saying a lot), and honestly, you don't even have to try.
I'm so completely amazed and in awe of you; you're the most perfect specimen of a human being ever fucking created, and I swear to God, I don't even care how cliched and stupid that sounds.
I am so completely and totally in love with you, and I know I always say it, but I'll never be able to really tell you how much. You are without a doubt the best thing to ever have happened to me, and I have no idea what I could have ever done to warrant my deserving of you.
Honest to God, you're my perfect match, I couldn't ever ask, hope, wish, create anything better than what you already are. You're just so charming and genuine; everything you do is done with truth and with sincerity, and I just love you to death. You're the most kind-hearted, honest and hilarious person I've ever met, and I'd never change anything about you; not one thing. I feel most comfortable and most secure whenever I'm with you, no matter where we are. You bring out the best, brightest and truest colors of myself and everything is always so light and perfect.
We've been through so much, we really have, and despite everything we're still here and we're still together and perfect and happy and just US, and I love you; I really, really do.
I swear to God, you're my best friend and I wouldn't ever have it any other way. I'm happiest around you, and I just feel so free and complete. Every single thing we do is fun and we're so perfect for each other, people don't even understand. We're the same fucking person, I swear to God, and I love it. I love everything about you and everything about us together. You're honestly the funniest person I've ever met and you do everything with a smile, which is absolutely, hands down, one of my favorite things in the world.
I can't stand not being around you; not laughing or crying or sleeping or yelling or playing or moving or just BEING with you all of the time, I can't stand it.
There's so much that I want to say, but I can't find the words (and besides, you've heard it all already), but it doesn't really even matter, does it? It doesn't even matter because you already know what I'm thinking; you always know exactly what I'm thinking and feeling; why I'm doing whatever it is that I'm doing (or not doing), a lot of the time before I even know myself. You know me better than anyone else and we just have this fucking connection that never quits and that I've never experienced before, never had with anyone else; I hadn't even known it existed before I met you. You know me inside and out, backwards and forwards and I'm just so amazed by everything that you do. You're perfect, and I swear to God, I love you; I really, really do.
( night man; UHHHH AAAUUUHHHH )
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[Monday the 1st
] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
ecstatic |
] |
Cape Cod was honestly the best time of my entire life
I love those kids to DEATH
(: (: (:
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[Thursday the 10th
] |
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Time to put the earphones on..
No!
Born to, born to multiply; born to gaze into night skies, when all you want's one more Saturday.
But look here; until then, they're gonna buy your life's time. So keep your wick in the air and your feet in the fetters, to the day
you come in doing cartwheels.
We all crawl out by ourselves, and your shape on the dancefloor will have me thinking such filth and gauge my eyes; you'd be damned to be one of us, girl. Faced with a dodo's conundrum:
Ah, I felt like I could just fly;
but nothing happened every time I tried.
A dual tone under wall; Selfish fool who hoped you'd save us all
never dreamt of such sterile hands.
You keep them folded in your lap, and raise them up to beg for scraps. You know, he's holding you down with the tips of his fingers.
Just the same; but you'll be pulled from the ocean. But just a minute too late; or changed by a potion, and find a handsome young mate for you to love. You'll be damned to pining through the windowpanes, you know. You'd trade your life for any ordinary Joe. Will do, and I will grow old; your nightmares only need a year or two to unfold.
Been alone since you were twenty one, you haven't laughed since January. You try to make like this is so much fun, but we know it to be quite contrary.
Dare to be one of us, girl!
Facing the android's conundrum: Ah, I felt like I should just cry, but nothing happens every time I take one on the chin. Your humor in your cote, you don't know how long I've been: watching the lantern dim, starved of oxygen. So give me your hand,
and let's jump out the window.
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[Thursday the 19th
] |
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lost.eu/489c0
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[Wednesday the 11th
] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 content |
] |
| [ |
music |
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moldy peaches |
] |
You're a part time lover and a full time friend;
the monkey on your back is the latest trend. I don't see what anyone can see in anyone else but you. I kiss you on the brain in the shadow of a train; I kiss you all starry eyed, my body's swinging from side to side. I don't see what anyone can see in anyone else but you.
Here is the church and here is the steeple; we sure are cute for two ugly people. I don't see what anyone can see in anyone else but you. The pebbles forgive me, the trees forgive me, so why can't you forgive me? I don't see what anyone can see in anyone else but you.
I will find my niche in your car with my mp3 dvd rumble-packed guitar. I don't see what anyone can see in anyone else but you. Up, up, down, down, left, right, left, right, B, A, start; just because we use cheats doesn't mean we're not smart. I don't see what anyone can see in anyone else but you.
You're always trying to keep it real; I'm in love with how you feel.
I don't see what anyone can see in anyone else but you.
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| say anything |
[Tuesday the 1st
] |
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Admit it!
Despite your pesudo-bohemian appearance and vaguely leftist doctrine of beliefs, you know nothing about art or sex that you couldn't read in any trendy New York underground fashion magazine;
Prototypical non-conformist
You are a vacuous soldier of the thrift store Gestapo; you adhere to a set of standards and tastes that appear to be determined by an unseen panel of hipster judges, giving a thumbs up or thumbs down to incoming and outgoing styles of music and art.
Go analog, baby; you're so post-modern.
You're diving face forward into an antiquated past. It's disgusting, it's offensive.
Don't stick your nose up at me.
You spend your time sitting in circles with your friends, pontificating each other, forever competing for that one moment of self-aggrandizing glory in which you hog the intellectual spotlight, holding dominion over the entire shallow, pointless conversation.
Oh, we're not worthy!
When you walk by a group of, quote-unquote, "normal people," you chuckle to yourself, patting yourself on the back as you scoff.
It's the same superiority complex shared by the high school jocks who made your life a living hell, and makes you a slave to the competitive capitalist dogma you spend every moment of your waking life bitching about.
Well, let me tell you this;
I am shamelessly self involved. I spend hours in front of the mirror making my hair elegantly disheveled.
I worry about how this album will sell, because I believe it will determine the amount of sex I will have in the future.
I self medicate with drugs and alcohol to treat my extreme social anxiety.
You're a faker, you're a fraud. You're living a lie, living a lie, your life is living a lie.
You don't impress me, you don't intimidate me; why don't you bow down, get on the ground, walk this fucking plank?
Yeah, what do you have to say for yourself?
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[Friday the 15th
] |
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I feel
I feel, and I’m strong and I’ve come out the other side, finally, more or less the same person I was before
and I can’t possibly tell you how relieved I am.
I was so, so afraid that this would distort and transform me, hopelessly, and I’d never be seen again.
But it hasn’t, it hasn’t and I’m here! STILL here.
I’ll always be here
I’m the same, just a sharper, clearer, wiser version than I was before.
I’m so in love with life and with everything that I’ve ever seen, heard, felt.
I can feel it, this love, feeling, whatever, ALL THE TIME and it’s so, so empowering. It’s inspiring me and I can just keep movemovemoving, fast and without end because I CAN change the world, and I will.
Mark my fucking words
Change and restore and you’re all going to help me; we’re going to remind every single person across this entire planet what it means to laugh and think and love. We’re going to fill them with complete and utter feeling rapidly and suddenly; they never saw us coming. They never saw us coming, but our results will resound loudly and clearly throughout long after we’ve gone as proof and validation for possibility.
I want to live free and in love;
I want to spark something within the people I meet and I want to touch everyone in ways they never thought imaginable. I can and I will, it’s simply a matter of when, and to a lesser extent how. I want to feel this way forever, and it intensifies as I continue on and I’m so, so afraid that one day it’ll suddenly be gone. It won’t be though, not if we continue inspiring and laughing, living, loving, singing, crying, dancing, breathing, moving.
I want so desperately for all of you and for everyone else who’s ever and will ever live to feel in the exact way that I’m feeling right now.
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| i loved him so much in dogtown |
[Tuesday the 22nd
] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 shocked |
] |
| [ |
music |
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jack's mannequin |
] |
Heath D:
leeeee uhhhhhhh: aw man
leeeee uhhhhhhh: he was good too
CHRRISTEENUH: srsly
CHRRISTEENUH: they always are
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[Thursday the 25th
] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 full |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
Kings of Leon! |
] |
I love you
Love me
Let me love you.
I want to love and know and touch the minds, hearts, fucking souls of every single person across this entire earth. I want us all to come together; we need to come together in order to achieve anything at all. We can't do it, any of it, we can't do it alone.
We need each other.
What we really need though, above all else, is to grip onto one another and fight our way through this immense fog and back into feeling.
I want to feel so completely that I don't know what to do with myself. I won't know exactly where to start, but I'll know that I'm here for something. It'll be the music that I hear resounding so clearly inside of me, I've just forgotten a few of the words.
I want to lay in the grass and talk and whisper and just laugh forever with everyone, with anyone who'll listen to anything that comes out of my mouth. I want to lay with them and talk, or not talk, I want them to know all that I'm thinking without having to tell them with words. I want them to look at me and know why I'm here. They'll know how full I am of love, and I want them to take that last drop that's about to spill over the edge, the edge of me, and catch it, adding some of me onto themselves, forever binding us together. Then, as they continue to love, I'll be loving, too, and I won't even know it. But I actually will, because how can you not love? How can you go for any amount of time without exploding and showering love all over anyone who happens to be close enough to catch or be hit with it? I'll know, because they'll be feeling just as explosively as I am, and there's no way around that.
I want to slow down and notice all of the simple things, and I want to piece them together. Or just leave them as they are. I want to appreciate the way winter comes and grabs your fingers, holding them together tightly and not allowing you to move your hand accordingly, and making it difficult to write. I want to appreciate that smell that lets you know it's about to rain, about to snow, spring's coming. I want to appreciate the way the cracks in the sidewalk always connect and create something bigger, something better than you initially saw at first glance, and I want to follow them. I want to just walk and walk and walk to see where I'll end up, see who I'll end up with. I want to see things from a thousand different perspectives, every possible perspective. I want to understand the way you think, you, and everyone else, I want to become you without losing myself.
I want to slow down, but not too slow, because there's so much I want to do.
I also just want to be happy and simple, but complex and mysterious and endearing. I want to lure you in and never let you go, because we need each other. I want to see everything as a child again; I want to believe in fun and energy and love, and I do, but I want to see the world through a child's eyes, because how can we allow ourselves to lose something as pure and as beautiful as that? I guess we haven't, not fully, but we've got to work hard in order to dig beneath the countless layers of dirt and resurface with the prize in hand. It might not be fully intact, but it's alright; we can work with whatever you've got. We can work together to repair things and find the various scattered pieces and fit them together, and maybe we'll create something new, too. Maybe we'll stumble over something arranged in an odd way, about to discard it, but see it, suddenly, for more than it appears to be. We'll see past its typical use and rearrange it in such a way that the world can't help but stop and stare, breath caught in it's throat.
I love you; let me love you
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[Thursday the 13th
] |
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She will kiss you till your lip bleeds, but she will not take her dress off.
Americano; Tropicano
All the sailor boys have demons;
they sing, "Oh, Kentucky! Why did you foresake me? If I was meant to sail the sea, why did you make me? Should've been with the state, oh state.."
'Cause Mary Anne's a bitch, Mary Anne's a bitch.
Mary Anne's a bitch
Does it matter that our anchors couldn't even reach the bottom of a bathtub?
All the sails reflect the moon;
it's such a strange job, playing black jack on the deck. Still, I taught this giant bottle dressed in white.
We quietly huddle with our missiles and we miss the girls back home, oh home sweet home..
'Cause Mary Anne's a bitch, Mary Anne's a bitch.
Mary Anne's a bitch
She will kiss you till your lip bleeds, but she will not take her dress off.
Americano; Tropicano
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| makes you feel in the most profound way imaginable |
[Wednesday the 15th
] |
|
This has got to die
I said, this has got to stop.
This has got to lie down with someone else on top.
Well, you can keep me pinned, it's easier to tease.
But you can't paint an elephant
quite as good as she.
And she may cry like a baby, and she may drive me crazy
'Cause I am lately lonely.
So why'd you have to lie?
I take it I'm your crutch;
the pillow in your pillow case is easier to touch.
And when you think you've sinned, do you fall upon your knees?
Or do you sit within your picture?
Do you still forget the breeze?
And she may rise, if I sing you down.
And she may wisely cling to the ground.
'Cause I am lately horny
So why would she take me horny?
What's the point of this song?
Or even singing?
You've already gone, why am I clinging?
Well, I could throw it out,
and I could live without.
And I could do it all for you;
I could be strong.
Tell me if you want me to lie,
'cause this has got to die.
I said, this has got to stop.
This has got to lie down, down
with someone else on top.
You can both keep me pinned, 'cause it's easier to tease.
Well, you can't make me happy
quite as good as me;
Well, you know that's a lie.
( unnecessary )
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[Tuesday the 14th
] |
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Squeaky swings and tall grass;
the longest shadows ever cast
The water's warm, and children swim, and we frolicked about in our summer skin.
I don't recall a single care, just greenery and humid air.
Then Labor Day came and went,
and we shed what was left of our summer skin.
On the night you left I came over and we peeled the freckles from our shoulders.
Our brand new coats, so flushed and pink; and I knew your heart I couldn't win.
'Cause the seasons change was a conduit,
and we'd left our love in our summer skin.
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[Tuesday the 12th
] |
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It's raining and I just want to go outside and jump and sing and run and yell and dance around and laugh in it forever.
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[Tuesday the 3rd
] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
amazed |
] |
Tell me, tell me;
Can you feel the pressure now?
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[Monday the 26th
] |
| [ |
music |
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heavy heavy low low |
] |
Sonny Moore, you little jerk.
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[Sunday the 17th
] |
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I love my family so much.
They're absolutely the most hilarious people I've ever met.
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[Wednesday the 27th
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
Forgive Durden |
] |
If you read this, if your eyes are passing over this right now, (even if we don't speak often or at all) please post a comment with a COMPLETELY MADE UP AND FICTIONAL memory of you and me.
It can be anything you want - good or bad - but it
HAS TO BE FAKE!
When you're finished, post this little paragraph on your LJ and be surprised (or mortified) about what people don't actually remember about you.
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[Monday the 18th
] |
| [ |
music |
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blood brothers |
] |
life is so, so precious
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[Tuesday the 11th
] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 lethargic |
] |
| [ |
music |
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A boy brushed red.. |
] |
It's hopeless, anyway. If you had a million years to do it in, you couldn't rub out even half the "Fuck you" signs in the world. It's impossible.
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[Tuesday the 4th
] |
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The man falling isn't permitted to feel or hear himself hit bottom. He just keeps falling and falling. The whole arrangement's designed for men who, at some time or other in their lives, were looking for something their own enviornment couldn't supply them with. Or they thought their own enviornment couldn't supply them with. So they gave up looking. They gave up before they ever really got started.
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[Wednesday the 22nd
] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 infuriated |
] |
| [ |
music |
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the number twelve looks like you |
] |
out of every thousand babies born in new york, five-hundred-nine are killed by abortion.
one out of every two infants are killed before birth.
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[Tuesday the 7th
] |
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This is your one oppertunity to do something that no one has ever done before, and no one will copy throughout human existance. And if nothing else, you will be remembered as the one guy who ever did this.
This one thing.
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most recent entries |
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