Thursday, October 28, 2010


in other similar but unrelated news, my fishy died.

I am grieving the loss of large(small mouf? I forget. I honestly just referred to him as fishy wishy when I would poke/feed him) mowfffffff sass. he served my closet well.

you will be missed.

Texas W-4

her demeanor is pressed upon the pores of a valley, listening to the echoes that ring to the bottoms of wells. a vast array that telepathically communicates admiration. vibrations escape the tunnel of her opera, making the hairs stand on end.

you are back.
or am I? a blindfold has presented itself in a manner most degrading, but seemingly trivial. who cares. what matters is what we feel.

what do we feel.

my sun gleams in and across the dew spread between worlds.
her light magnifies through the looking glass of our retrospective.
a war waiting to start. we know the end, but not the means.

"hmmm, I've missed you."
"I've missed you too."
"you still don't love me, do you?"
"wh-what?", her question came as a wave of terror-hopefully not visible upon my face.
"I always knew, you know-that there was someone else-there had to be. you always seemed to be so dazed with-"
"I love you."
"you don't mean that, greg. you never-", my foot found its way to her face; her playful screams and laughs alleviated the weight upon my chest. the torture was over.
"brittany, I've been so preoccupied chasing after ghosts that never existed. I was wrong-listen to me," my hand-feet take hold of her face. she smiles.
so beautiful. that smile, that unique tic of unwarranted veracity and elegance.
she seems so innocent and fluid to me, "I love you but have always been too scared to embrace it-too unsure of its lifespan to give you comfort in my words. I just didn't want to be hurt-I was being selfish."
"its okay, I understand. I've felt that way before, but never with you. I just want you to know that you make me happy and I don't need anything else, I love you."
her smile rises above the horizon. in this moment. it fuels what i need.

Monday, October 25, 2010

sleep less

the world is upside down.

spidey weberrrzz
the ease of your words; the impersonal factor that pierces my skin.
I can't face the fear that follows your footsteps.
I'm sure you're satisfied. I'm sure your high sight stints the reins anchored to the eyes of your diety. bring them to their knees,
just as you've done to those that no longer see.
the world is upside down.
the world is upside down.
the world is upside down.

Friday, October 22, 2010

interesting articlesssssssss


Dissent in the age of Obama

Tickets to the gun show

US-trained cartel terrorises Mexico

The Iranian dilemma

Thursday, October 21, 2010

jack bauer, eat your heart out

I have to make tough choices in life alllllll the time. for instance, color schemes:
her name is branden christopher patton, majestic lionness
I was really hoping for the orange n yellerz, but my argument wasn't compelling enough, I suppose :[

Sunday, October 17, 2010

I've always said....

last morning at fort irwin
back from california and straight into a four day weekend. but my saturday afternoon SUCKED. for one, mah bike conspired against me and then someone stole the lock I threw in a bush. maybees I start from beginningz, yes? so, I woke up, and thought real hard whether or not I should take a shower first ORRR just go straight into a bike eating FRENZAYYYY-afterall, it had been a month since I got a chance to even take mah beautiful cervelo out for a ride-BUT I showered. and showered. and showered. now, before I left I came up with the brilliant idea of taking off one of my water bottle thingies-why? I'm still not too sure. anyways, I got water, and headed out to the cliffs.
I soon realized that my back wasn't used to carrying so much weight AND I was already 62.3% outta water 20 miles out. AHAHAHAHAHA.
I made it though and started heading off some trails. LO AND BEHOLD! a fork in the path presented me with a choice and I chose left. my rear wheel obeyed my commands that I hammered into the pedals-the front decided to rebel.
my chain rings grabbed me by my ankle and let me have it. my precious carbon steed threw me right into the dirt. did I deserve this? I'm sure it comes with the territory of stupidity; its jaws have been locked onto my ass since the ripe age of 4 years old and always had an interesting way to show off the scar. is that a run on sentence? maybe. doesnt matter. I got up, got angry at the teeth marks down my shin and started screaming obscenities at my bike. ofcourse afterwards I swept it for cracks and scratches.
after I straightened the handlebars-not thinking of the carbon steerer-I got back on and let it go... right into a giant mud puddle. at first I had no idea why my bike had slowed down until I seen that I didn't have enough clearance between my frame and tire for all the mud I had picked up. FUCK IT. I got off, (screaming again) picked up my bike, flailing it around like a caveman would, then dropped to my knees in self defeat. I was tired, dehydrated,and dirty as fuck. I loved it. except for the ant bites.
lakey lake :3

well, I decided to turn back and head for the lake to get the mud off. I just laid around and took pictures because I was too lazy to do anything else.
it was a while before I got all the muck off, but I perservered. I got back on after I realized I had a quarter of a water bottle left. I started freaking out cos my lips were really dry. I thought the end was near, even though i woulda been fine with some chap stick. stupid mexican.
I rode back and wheezed up the hills with one shoe on. oh, did I forget to tell that part? well. Ilostacleatsoihadtoridebackwithoneshoeon. there. it sucked, but it was really funny.
I got back on post around 530 and went to get my lock so I could grab some water at the store.
shuffle shuffle.
rustle rustle.
the holy bush, the sanctuary of my bike lock, had been desecrated. it was jihad from that moment. I swear, when I find out who stole my bike lock I'm going to beat them with it. and I WILL find them; not many people ride bikes around here.
anyways, I've learned my lesson-don't put bike locks in holy bushes. people will STEAL them. I'LL FIND YOU, BASTARD!
so, ummm, I rode back (all depressed and shit) to my barracks and could barely stand once I slumped onto the floor. my back gave up on me. just...gave up :[
so I just layed there, all uncomfortable and shit, completely helpless. I was beaten. that whole afternoon was just a giant joke on me.
I need a fucking mountain bike.

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

if a tree falls in a forest and know one's around to hear it, does it still make a sound?

fuck you, cockfungus. who cares? WHY would anyone in their right minds ever ask such a stupid fucking question, anyways? I'd give my life for the opportunity to punch the motherfucker that came up with that-right in their forehead.

I can honestly say I am ashamed, but will endure shame-because I'm alright with selling my soul and being a hypocrite. I wrote a big retarded explanation of it all, then realized how fucking stupid I was being.
"you talk a good one, but don't want it."
I am a part of the weak that feeds off the strong. I am a tool. and I want to be a human again :] yay!
does that really mean anything at all? to be human, is that any different from being a toothbrush? don't read into that too much-but if you do, you'd prolly say to yourself, "he's genius," which is an acceptable conclusion.

am I a user or a tool? does it matter what you call it? if you rely on tools to accomplish what you desire or need, does that not make you-in itself-a tool to meet the objects purpose? one might say an object has no purpose unless given one by a user, though a human can be either one. so there really isn't a difference is there? we have as much purpose, and as much REAL use as, well, everything. human beings are useless. everything on earth is useless. everything in existance is FUCKING USELESS. we have nothing inherent except what is and what we end up shoving up our own ass. if every human being was completely rational, their heads would spontaneously explode. a symphony no one would ever hear.
I think I wanna just say fuck you to everyone on earth, fuck their lovers and daughters, then go jump off a cliff thats not high enough to end me. I think that'd be kind of funny. as agonizing and as fucking pyschopainfulretarded as that sounds, it appeals to me-I've already knocked a couple of those wives and daughters off the list to begin with, and have told approximately .0000001% of the world's population, "eff yoo". its a good start.
but maybe that is too unrealistic of a 4th&goal. being drunk on a boat and getting smacked in the face with an owl-then falling into a river and drowning is more realistic. I almost like that one better. the more pathetic it seems to me, the better. its a great thing-immortal from its conception. being alive is pathetic. its fun, but pathetic nevertheless. completely pointless useless pathetic, but just as poetic.

I'm gonna go drink another gallon of coffee now.

Friday, October 1, 2010


its raining.
never thought it would-not here-not now... pretty stupid, right?


the air tastes of concrete, its harsh on my throat. the shelter of the trailer I'm on, wraps around my shoulders-I feel so warm.

you know how much I love the rain.
the sounds, sight, smells.
you know so much about me. I miss you, by the way. it's been a while-and the last time wasn't very ideal.
I have dreams of us drenched from running through the rain, sitting next to each other to keep warm-on the ground, against the wall of my apartments. a draft howling through the front door, we huddle and wait for the wind to stop. the relief of warmth returns. the dying sunflowers strain and become unstrained with the laughs and squeels of the children in the court yard.
we don't talk.
we just sit-I stare at the death-you watch our toes. they overlap one another, your big toe beating down on my pinky. I lean my head on to yours and the rivulets of the st. johns absorbs my weary mind. the smell of the parched pavement is overwhelmed by the essence of your waves. as I sink down to your bottom, like I have so many times before, the thrashing from the storm becomes muffled-and an afterthought.
I close my eyes, and we sit.
we sit there and we sit there and we stay there. the rain does not stop. it does not let up. but I am safe in your currents. I am safe in the grips of our toes.
I am safe and warm and calm, and I am happy to be.
in the darkness of the skies in the darkness of the night, dreaming-in the darkness of your watersmeetingcoolpristinebeautifulmesmerizingspringblue. springblue. the source from which your murky waters flow. pureclearblue to wateroakbrown. I'll never tire of stirring your waters.
at night. in day. under trees. in rain. in heat. in snow. in sand. in dreams. in blankets. in hand. in truth:
I feel at peace.

there's no reason to leave.