Fecking deap, no?

There is nothing more bleak
than a chicago sunrise
during a wintry dawn
frozen doors
a sea of black peacoats
on a train to
nowhere

I've seen fleeting fires of doting vestiges
I've been exposed
to something obsolete and reminiscent
a vague portrayal
to a convoluted thought about intimacy
that delves into the underground
Is this my personal fortitude?

A hollow rapport
midwestern skin so pale
the sunken sockets
that swallow eyes
pale blue, fathomless brown
into an abyss to
nowhere

I've seen those who look into the sky
I've been uneasy
because the clouds do not have mouths
thoughts or eyes
so who is that old man uttering to
when he is so deep in the underground
Is it the flickering lights?

A pint of modern, diluted moonshine
sold at the hole in the wall dive
unwillingly sobered
by a desolate bed
where pillows clasp
like the grasp of a gent
only in my dreams to
nowhere

Tethers. (lyrics)

On sandpaper skin
is what feels like home
and your nails are scattered
like stars

On a tethered ship
where anchors been swallowed
by predatory holes

this is where the water boils
Graves are made for those who die

But what If we're on this ship
and it comes pouring down
We'll disappear
with no graves
just water

There is dirt on our faces
deep into our pores
and you seem askew
like me

We've been bound by yarn
weaves and stitches
into a mess

This is where we come undone
Graves are made for those who die

but on this ship
it comes pouring down
We'll float away
with no graves
just a bed of water

For today, I am a child.

Do you ever get the illegitimate feeling that you might have missed your own birthday? I have to come to realize my lack of coherence, as far as what month, date or day it is - ever. I literally was just sitting here, pondering whether or not my birthday has passed. Though, I can always leave it up to my mother to call me and start singing over the phone.

I found out that he is engaged.
I've found that it provides a bit of closure
even though I haven't been too broken
lately.
I need to stop overreacting towards people
that I want to keep in my life.
and I need to stop having the need to know
what people are doing with themselves
once they are not in my life anymore.
He will never let me in again.
And I no longer need to cope.




Isn't it a bit creepy what the internet can do? I am perfectly capable of stalking the shit out of someone.

(untitled)

The grey horizon says, "Today just isn't the day".

The very last paper bag that I grabbed before leaving work tonight
was the paper bag that killed my dear finger
Rest in peace, dear finger. It was so nice knowing you for almost 22 years.
My finger isn't gone, really.
I am just mourning the loss of a finger not feeling good at the moment.

One of the best realizations that I've had in a while:
I can cook. I can cook a damn good meal for probably like 10 people if I wanted to.

I was hoping to throw a dorky themed party. Not one of those drunken boozer keggers that everyone loves to waste away in. I'm not really in the mood to subject myself to bad decisions like one night stands and smoking pot. It just isn't in my cards, I don't think.
So I had a thought. A party idea that was given to me by one of those bourgie mothers who love to escape into my grocery store for about two hours because they think that they doing some right in this world by shopping gourmet/organic/expensive/whatever but mostly it is a vice. They just need some breathing space away from those children. There is the exception of the single woman whose husband does not exist or works long hours at some office in downtown Chicago. They carry the same demeanor of sheer loneliness. But anyway, I'm pretty good with mingling upon mothers, so I always like to drop in with recipe ideas. I told her that I was inspired to make a Pear and Gorgonzola pizza, and she told me that she used to love making pizzas with her 'girlfriends' during pizza making parties. Well girlfriends, where you at?

I wish I could sleep.


The tree sways back and
the twigs have poked my eyes out
Bloody vacancy

Some random art stuff.

You're a torn out page from a best selling book..

This is my room, almost done. When it is officially put together, I will post more pictures.

Slipping into the lava (jo bro style).

I did some drawings of these siamese twins that are pretty cartonish.
I also drew these small ghosts floating amongst branches and twigs.
I shall document and post. Because I should really be
doing something with this blog besides
posting what kinds of drunken shenanigans I get into.

Painting the room!