Tuesday, August 11th, 2009
|
|
12:22 pm
|
I live in San Francisco now.
Haha, I moved back to Memphis after 10 days. San Francisco is horrible.
|
|
(6 comments | comment on this)
|
|
Thursday, December 6th, 2007
|
|
3:00 pm - You Better, Run, Run, Run, Run To Me
|
|
|
Monday, December 3rd, 2007
|
|
6:03 pm - I'm Tearing Down The Walls, The Walls, The Walls
|
|
|
|
5:40 pm - Pastures Waiting In The Woods
|
|
|
|
3:44 pm - About The Birds And The Bees
|
I feel so acutely today
I love you pornstar, I love you New Order
I love you Roland Barthes,
I love you Kafka
I love you Bob Dylan and Avey Tare
I love you small paper notebook
I love you slide quiz
And I love you voice mail
I love you everything
I love you page numbers
I surge, I wrestle, violently free
I am imprisoned, no struggle, so deliciously envious
I am uncontained, vociferous
Indelible and courageous
Beams cutting straight through leaves,
The light, like messages, left singing
The blinds are shut, I cannot see
I cannot count the change in my pocket
I write their words, I speak them aloud
I find, I find, in kind, I'm blind
A bass line, your howls, so clean
I've lost the piano
I've gained your release
I cannot tell you mirror, I cannot help but pose
I cannot tell you notebook, I cannot help but scribble
I would tell you whole world, I would
I would speak it slowly to every ear
I would tell you father, you might listen mother
I would scream it sisters, I would decieve you grandmother
This is what cannot be seen, a light behind unblinking eyes
This dream, this nothing, this beauty, this refuse
I'm collected, disorganized
Unprotected, unsatisfied
There is no faith to see through, no love to dismiss
Unrequited and sated, only let your legs go numb
The words fall off the pages, the sounds drip from my lips
Fall from my eyes, my promises, my proclamations
I release you,
I believe you
current mood:  ohohoh
|
|
(comment on this)
|
|
Saturday, December 1st, 2007
|
|
2:44 pm - A Run Of Bad Luck
|
|
|
Friday, November 30th, 2007
|
|
2:38 pm - Why Does This Feel So Appealing?
|
|
|
|
1:24 pm - Throw It Over Your Shoulder
|
|
|
Thursday, November 29th, 2007
|
|
11:48 am - It Helps With The Lights Out
|
One more before lunch.
Comics are the best procrastination.
Burritos are a second best.
current mood:  hungry
|
|
(comment on this)
|
|
|
11:14 am - Pickup The Beat
|
|
|
|
1:14 am - It's In My Blood
|
|
|
Wednesday, November 28th, 2007
|
|
4:04 pm - I Remember When I First Got You
|
Good thing I don't have a whole lot of those or I would be afraid of these ghosts.
current mood:  blah
|
|
(4 comments | comment on this)
|
|
Monday, November 26th, 2007
|
|
4:11 pm - It's Been Said Many Times Many Ways
|
|
|
|
2:15 pm - It's Between You And I
|
We used to spy on girls and then get chased up trees, which we, apparently, forgot that girls could climb, too. I think we wanted to get caught back then without admitting it. They, of course, wanted to chase.
( I'm made this comic for this: )
current mood:  miss
|
|
(4 comments | comment on this)
|
|
Saturday, November 24th, 2007
|
|
12:18 am - Still Surprised To Catch You Every Time
|
I got a Wacom Tablet for my birthday!
( This one )
This is the first comic I've made on the thing and I'm super excited. Are you? Yes? Say yes!
(My birthday is in May, by the way. Think about it.)
current mood:  freezin'
|
|
(6 comments | comment on this)
|
|
Thursday, November 22nd, 2007
|
|
6:27 pm
|
|
I am thankful for the Glock .40 Semi-Automatic pistol, hot tubs, charming vanities, flat screen televisions, Christ the one and only true savior, and decks that will never rot or require cleaning.
|
|
(2 comments | comment on this)
|
|
Wednesday, November 21st, 2007
|
|
2:42 pm - We Were Strangers
|
|
|
Tuesday, November 13th, 2007
|
|
6:24 pm - If You Wanna Fuck Up
|
( more, mais oui )
There's so many people who shouldn't be in art school and I am losing patience with them. They are wasting their time and mine. There are so many who pass through the halls and classes like zombies, completing projects without thought of larger ideas and connections between classes, between media. Their eyes are fixated perhaps on a meaningless degree, or more often at the ground, which they do not walk upon but shuffle across, mumbling the things their parents once said about success. I'm getting sick of class structures and grading scales, test taking and project making. At this point, I know what the fuck I'm doing - I really just need to use your expensive printer and get some decent feedback from the folks who give a shit about all this. This isn't how it always was, you know. There was some idealism in the creation of Art Schools, and the stories I've read are so beautiful, so impossible to imagine these days (except that they still happen in small instances). I'm not quitting, but I'm putting some blinders on, focusing on what I need to do and ignoring all the bullshit surrounding me. I'm here to get shit done. What's your purpose?
current mood:  busy
|
|
(4 comments | comment on this)
|
|
Monday, November 12th, 2007
|
|
4:08 pm - I Bet I Could Carry You Across State Lines
|
|
|
Sunday, November 11th, 2007
|
|
11:48 pm - I Pull My Collar Up
|
Dear Everyone,
I know it's fall and all, and it's chilly, and you want someone to cuddle with when it's cold, but quit it. Stop coupling up. Some people must snuggle with themselves and those people spite your shared warmth. So quit. You're making me some people jealous.
Love,
Some people
current mood:  sick
|
|
(6 comments | comment on this)
|
|
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif?v=91.7){kind=small}
firework_kid's journal
whoaaa
wakey
anxious
