like a phoenix ignition, like a creamatorium
something borrowed and something blue. something old and something new. too many things new. take me back, back to the days of eights and familiar faces. not unique enough to stand out, not cool enough to fit in. looks can be decieving for on the inside i am empty and as entertaining as a hollow log. strip me of my apperance and there would be nothing left
No regrets, just rebirth
move forward, and ignite
incandescent reinvention
a new renaissance
a new fire each day
11:03 p.m.
Friday, September 26, 2003
i know that you're a sucker for anything acoustic
so far out of touch. parents away. grandmas cell phone wasn't charged. internet was down. no way of contacting meghan.
but when i say lets keep in touch
i really mean i wish that you'd grow up
this is the first song for your mix tape
and it's short just like your temper...
03:53 p.m.
Thursday, September 11, 2003
i wrote a song, it was short and long
i wrote the words and the music wrong
but life goes on
spinning, spinning, spinning. everything is spinning. i'm the most dangerous carosel you've ever seen. hop on, i can't make any promises. i don't care anymore. i'm drunk on my own dizzyness. i just want to spin. fuck this glass sheild. is it paper thin or indestructable? i don't care, i don't care. just let me spin. if she thinks, if they think, that a ferris wheel or a tilt-a-whirl can offer more, so be it. i don't care. let someone new hop aboard. i'm tired of drowning in green and black. am i blinded by my rose colored glasses? i don't care, i don't care. paint the whole fucking sheild rose. i just want to spin. join at your own risk, but i garentee the ferris wheel can't be more fun than this
04:59 p.m.
Monday, September 1, 2003
I need the smell of summer
i need it's noises in my ears
they dance in front of my glass sheild. singing, flaunting. a twisted ring around the rosey game circles me. stick some posies in my pocket, for on the inside i feel dead. i press my hand against the glass. oh how i want to join in. but i am too green for them to even look at me any more. or maybe i'm not green. maybe i'm not there at all.
07:54 p.m.
Thursday, August 28, 2003
i am downright amazed at what i can destroy with just a hammer
home again, home again rig a jig jig...
06:18 p.m.
Saturday, August 23, 2003
i'm writing again, these letters to you aren't much i know
a letter. a stamp. an address. a promise. a week. keepers of the location: cullen, shannon, andy, meghan, eric...ask a ye shall recieve an address. and i should recieve a letter from those who ask. aka write me at camp dammit
11:39 a.m.
Sunday, August 17, 2003
five stories falling, forever and ever
sometimes i am one paranoid android.
10:17 a.m.
Sunday, August 10, 2003
i can't sleep
you should have left me sleeping
you should have let me sleep
deja vous? why does it seem like it is all happening again. once more i am consuming green. as a sheild of glass encompases me, i observe my surroundings from what seems like a distance. they could break the sheild. if they wanted to. if they even tried. behind the glass, i am quiet, i am inactive, i am out of the way. perhaps thats what they wanted anyway. as i sleep through my last dying chances, they march on unaware. i am left in my own loneliness parade, isolated, dark, and infinate. once honest pacts made with words like 'friendship' and 'forever' are more easily broken than one would think. looks like i'll be alone on the highway tonight.
08:48 a.m.
Saturday, August 9, 2003
wasted words on lower cases and capitals
Her eyes burn as she hears the musicians laughing in the other room. revealed. embarassed. stripped. this room is too small. she takes up too much space.
06:45 p.m.
Thursday, July 17, 2003
