?

Log in

August 2008

S M T W T F S
     12
3456789
10111213141516
17181920212223
24252627282930
31      

Syndicate

RSS Atom
Powered by LiveJournal.com

Previous 10

Aug. 26th, 2008

gah

About to smoke then go to bed. Jenn is not comming up from Texas this weekend anymore. Yah I fucked up again. So anyone doing anything fun labor day weekend since I am not anymore? Le Sigh!

Jul. 4th, 2008

party

Off to a 4th party not sure what else is going on. Mom is in the hospital again. She is in a reverse presure isolation room. They don't know what she has. They thought it was TB but she isn't coughing blood so they are going through tests and CDC won't let her leave till they figure it out. We saw her last night. You have to go through a decomp room and wear mask and stuff. She looks like shit but she has been through worse. Keep her in your prayers for us. Not sure what me and Chris are doing for the rest of the weekend besides trying to make it to the workshop tomorrow. If anyone is doing anything fun and cheep lemme know.

Jul. 3rd, 2008

Home for 2 days

Me, Chris, and Stephen just got home for a couple of well earned days off. First time in the history of the camp the staff got 4th of July off. We managed to set up the entire camp in 4 days which is usually a 7 day project so we are off until butt-crack early on sunday when we gotta go back. I think planned right now is Fireworks Friday night in Millbury, Cookout at our friend Rob's, Basement Workshop. If anyone doesn't mind hanging out with poor people who really can't afford anything including gas right now hit me up. Miss you all and hope your having a good 4th of July weekend.

P.S. I almost had forgotten how fun falling 30 ft was...god I love my job.

Jun. 29th, 2008

SLEEP!!

40 hrs and 45 mins up and gotta wake up in 4 hrs! time to sleep or at least take a hard nap. when we get set up at camp I will send out a post. till then peace out hommies

Jun. 28th, 2008

Art Cries

Tragic art cries
From walls the world over
Their meanings lost once they leave the explanation of the crafter
Reds of passion
Turned to anger
Pastels of spring
Sprung into innocence
Emotions never imagined forced ont he piece by every casual observer
The M.F.A. wails at dusk after abusive days
The Louvre drips oil and acrylic tears from long hours of endless visual rape
When a tree blossoms, you don't force monikers of lust on it
When a river eddy sprays a tiny rainbow, it didn't stem from a pride movement
Let the art just be what it is
No need to figure it out, lest you won't see the forest through all the trees
Next time you visit art, appreciate it
Don't ask why or how
Just thank it for being what it is
Beautiful or horrid or intriguing might fit,
But it doesn't matter.
And don't stare too long,
You wouldn't want someone staring at you crucified and exposed for inspection
Thank it for being what it wants to be,
And head off hoping you don't come back your next time around
As Art

Chess

White
Black
They fight by rules
One forward
Attack diagonal
3 up one to the side
But the board turns
Against them in odd rotations
Who is on top
Is left to perspective
A1 to A5
Religion falls to secular solidarity
Bound in stone and mortar
All it could take is
One diagonal misstep
From a pawn in life
To remove religion
From play wholly
Without that guidance
Which ethical path can the rulers lead?
Queen miss steps
and beds an opposing knight
Leading to her demise
Now without the aesthetic compass
Knights lose their code and advantage
Peasants, and every day Joes
Rush forward in the ensuing chaos
To be laid low
En Passe
Soon enough
Because of a difference in color
Or just a different side of the board
Societies themselves will clash
Head to head
And both sides always have casualties
In those circumstances
Thus the castles we live in
Crumble around us
Who is left
But the clashing Egos
that don't even remember
How it all started
Or who made the first move
Neither will or can risk dirtying themselves
So they rule empty squares
In Black and White
Never do they talk
Unless they remember their follies
That they led to this pointless
Stalemate

Empty Spaces(possible future dual voice piece)

Tell the truth
You don't appreciate nothing
I appreciate nothing fully

You with all your money
Nice car, pretty wife, house,
and 2.5 kids...
Even your list of wants is empty
and you don't appreciate that

I find dry inconspicuous spots to lay my head
Women gave up on me decades ago
and any money I do get is filtered straight into
some mind altering substance to make my subsonic life
spead up to play mode for a bit

But it's not the jar that really matters
It's the empty space inside that counts
and no matter how lavish the home
whether mansion or tin shanty
it isn't crass wrappings we crave
but the empty space inside
where we live

So are you happy with your life?
cause you attain those paper mache goals
society told you to wear.
Was it worth it?
Cause the empty space
from goal to completion.
They call that your life
How was it?
I had fun.
Tell the truth

Anthony

Which disease is more debilitating?
Muscular dystrophy or Emo?

They were born silver spoon in hand
and never having to know want
but wonder what's to live for.

When you were born
You were given 8 years max
then you hit 12
and it was a small gift.

They play WOW and Sims World or other games
cause real people make them cry.

Autism got in the way of your outputs
so you play normal Sim City
and beat economic and population goals in minutes
to show friends and family that disasters can be fun in games

When they turned 16 their parents got them cars
and again they whined cause they got the yellow BMW
instead of the black Lexus

When you turned 16 you got an electric wheelchair
and maybe it was frustrations
or just the ability to
but you ran down your principle
and savored the mobility

When they turned 18 they graduated high school
and their parents threw parties
and sent them off to ivy league schools
where they dress in black and mope about
maybe they make it out of the first semester
cutting themselves to feel something

You never hit 18
at 17 you shattered the natural order
by dying before your parents
It was merciful because of the state you were in
The last thing you said
as she cried, holding your hand was
"It's ok mom. Let me go. I will run to meet you when I see you again"

Who lived better young emo star?
I'll pick M.D. anyday
because Anthony lived every minute

You are my sunshine
My only sunshine
You make me happy
When skys are grey
You'll never know dear
How much I love you
Please don't take my sunshine away

Pretty Girls (yes you can start groaning)

When I walk into a room
and your there
certain things come to mind
like
All those curves
and me with no breaks
or
Slippery when wet
I mean
I don't want you to have my babies
I just wanna practice
I must say that outfit is very becoming on you...
but if I was on you
I'ld be cumming too
Your daddy must have been a thief
cause he stole the twinkle from the stars
and put it in your eyes
I knew I was gonna see you soon anyways
it's been 2 days, 3 hrs, 45 mins since I saw you last...
and that was in my dreams
I might talk to you,
but I would get distracted by
the two bald men
Fighting to get out of your shirt
and your too classy
for cheesy pickup lines like
Love is a Sensation
Brought on by Temptation
Where a boy's Location
is brought to a girl's Destination
Do you understand my Explanation
or do you want a Demonstration
But I'm just a simple man
So I will shyly say Hi
and head out
Trying not to trip on myself
but just so you know sweetheart
before I go
I might not be Fred Flintstone
But I'll sure make your bedrock!

Poets

Dusky room with cuddling booths and ambiance of smoke
A puff of hash and pachooli waifs on stage
Beatnicking the microphone with meter and passion

Running of oral diarrhea
in self examination because
If they were sure, there would be no need to debate said point in self assuredness

Is this questioning so wrong?
Wonder at what is perceived,
and look for more in the blossom of awe inspiring present

Taking the now into rhyming flow of sweat and tears
Moaning and moaning
Through emotions poured out for all to hear

Businessmen make millions
but poets turn dandelions into tangy salads, tea, and wine

All that wander are not lost
but all that are lost put themselves there
so they know where to find themselves if it gets bad

If I'm reading this on a stage or soap box
I care not if you write inspired,
or your phone goes off, cause your life goes on

Just if you find me lost
Tell me where I am
So I can recognize it
and get back to
Wandering

Previous 10