so fucking true....
>> Sunday, June 13, 2010
Truly a metaphor for the fucked in all of us. What is there left to do when the last line of reasoning is cut off?
you fuck
>> Friday, June 11, 2010
why do you call to me all dayI hear you
while I am sitting at my desk
your sirens call
your beautiful smell
hits my nostrils
delicious and painful
beautiful and disgusting
you bring the numb
the beautiful numb
but it's not the same
no more beauty
no more laughs
no more fun
just survival
i drink you alone
and dream of better times
when there was friends
and wives
and family
but they are gone now
it's just me and you
let's get this over with
already
buzz killington
what a little bitch. Someone should have got his ass some taco bell and he would have been straight
i fucking wish
that I could fucking go home. I wish I could smell the desert. I wish I could see the lights. I wish I had friends and family to welcome we with open arms. I wish I had a bright future in the land of my growth. I wish I knew what to do. I wish I wasn't exiled. I wish I wasn't mechasing the buzz
>> Friday, June 4, 2010
I miss
the days
when a small amount of drink
would take me away
blur my vision
make my words stumble
those precious few sips
make my head spin
make the most boring night
a crusade into the unknown
Now, alas, it is but a memory
so much booze
bottles gone
And still i sit here
able to function
I want to be comatose
I hate chasing
the buzz
Drunken sex
has lost its appeal
no more sweaty thrills
in dark rooms
taking my breath away
Now just routine
a daily rutual
open the bottle
pour the lies
drink
repeat
no good
the chase continues
I can never go back
to those days of
youthful zeal
In survival mode now
The booze lubricates
this damning process
Fucking tragedy
this sudden tolerance
But I keep trudging along
How long could this
insanity last?
you have.....
been on my mind lately. what weird words could you contribute to these fucked times. I find myself wondering what you would have to say about these shitty days we currently occupy.
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