February 2011
2 posts
i have to abandon this name.
endstructable.tumblr.com …if you have found any of this interesting. i don’t bitch as much and i try to just post pictures of things.
and if anyone knows how to delete one of these, i’d greatly appreciate it.
January 2011
5 posts
i don't know what to say
stack of fucking notebooks by my bed
you are all i think about and you know this why do i just think of more ways to say it there it is
she drives me crazy, kid.
Anonymous asked: well regardless i do miss you. and our conversations.
Anonymous asked: i did not disappear.
Anonymous asked: Chirp?
Anonymous asked: have you forgotten me?
December 2010
2 posts
Missin' you,
And do you miss me too? Do you miss me back? Miss ya so much my fucking cigarettes are black. And my lungs, and the clouds, and my clothes, and the hole, and the horse i came in on whoa whoa whoa no. Black gloves cover up my true blues, gripping that black cigarette like i used to grip to you. Miss ya so fucking much i smoke them, too. Emptying all my ashtrays, of all the things, that remind me...
November 2010
2 posts
so, i finally wrote that song about you...
and you probably really hate that i wrote a song about you.
yeah, you probably went told everyone it was about you, too. girl, you probably, secretly, fucking love that i wrote a song about you.
but you probably, more recently, realize and hate how it is the truth. don’t you?
October 2010
19 posts
ahehhheheh, ahhhehhhahh,
uuuahhahahahehhhhhauheh.
you spend more effort saying that you’re trying than you do trying to make an effort. you spend more effort saying that you’re trying than you do trying to make an effort. you spend more effort saying that you’re trying than you do trying to make an effort. you spend more effort saying that you’re trying than you do trying to make an effort. you spend more effort saying...
"saudade"
four more days for this thing. and then i’m starting everything. FEEL IT.
right out the gate.
the homestretch (here we are)
i have a lot to say on a subject, but i’ll wait until it is over, as to not give myself away. there is so much and not enough to write about. i am really trying. i really am trying. this is trying.
places i’ve been recently:
staring at my swerving feet with a cigarette mouth on a cold unfamiliar street. drinking with some people (were/are) very important to me. but i still feel...
99999999999999999
I recall once on the church steps, When I moved to kiss your chest, How we paid such close attention To each sweet and stuttered breath, I should’ve stopped to paint our picture, Captured honest pure affection, Just to document the difference between attraction and connection. I can see all of my friends and I break into empty buildings, When the coast was clear, With backpacks full of beer, We’d...
I AM BUT A HOPEFUL LOVER,
am i the last of my kind?
DON’T CALL THIS AN ART PROJECT. this is science, this is progress:
and don’t pretend these are heartfelt words, we are children dressed as surgeons but disturbed by the sight of our scars and now we carry scalpels to trace the scarring resting somewhere on the line between my house, your heart and into your home, where you lay sleeping like a ceiling fan in winter, gently turning...
OH, AND WAIT,
it gets better.
ever get the feeling that you're screaming from...
sometimes i do.
eh.
but seriously, where do you draw the line between finally leaving someone behind and being an ass for avoiding everyone else from that time in your life?
ALRIGHT, INTERNET
i m durnk do yuor worse
WHICH IS FRENCH, FOR
The Dispute
Judges 21:25
-reading the bible
-smoking a splurf
-bottle of wine
-murder by death
-madeline
-found a wurlitzer organ four blocks away for free,
-going to drag it home
you used to be the ceiling
first thing i saw in the morning.
last thing before i went to sleep.
now you’re just over me.
this thing is dead
the past hurts.
September 2010
7 posts
"What brings you here, my son?"
“there’s no place for me.” a man of nowhere, a man of black heart from the dead end streets. “regret runs through me. i am no one, i am nothing, i am a man of defeat. what’s left for me? whats left for me?” he thought of those open roads, his mother praying alone, that vagrant anthem and the field sung hymns, the cowardice forever following him....
Anonymous asked: i need more of you in my life.
24 hour post-impact little black box
is anybody out there anybody out there? or am i stuck on an AM frequency?
sometimes this vessel ejects me, and i hit the ground. grinding miles. finding cog. biological predispositions win again. the chemicals in my cortex, some of which i put there. i’m still looking for her, i think.
this is not a test.
such a mess of static, my head.
remember when i showed you every song i ever...
margin for error
slipping deeper into my mind. loneliness is all there is to love these days, everything else has gone away. fleshing out my neurosis, still not much to hold the bones in. not sure if i will wake up in the morning. i lost the last traces of god a week or so ago. as i rode north on meridian at 3:45 on a thursday afternoon to grab lunch for some coworkers, a man was dangling his feet from the fifth...
Anonymous asked: i love you
Obviously Misunderstood
“I miss you an aweful amount. Ok. I’m really not diggin the distance. Come cuddle and watch movies with me on this rainy day. Do I talk to everyone else like I talk to you? No. That was really what you dreamt about? That’s probably the cutest and sweetest thing I’ve ever heard. Maybe if that had been real I would have slept but it’s 8am and I never went to bed. I...
Give It Up
After i went to bed the other night my friends sat and talked about how i never get attached to things. I guess they are right.
August 2010
46 posts
Anonymous asked: why are you, and your posts so amazing.
