im not a writer.

fragrance worth searching for.
a beauty worth picking.
a chase worth pursuing. hmmm.

I cannot put this weekend into words. I would only tarnish its beauty.

our mutual self-destruction

without the experience of suffering; with out struggle...
we cease to care for those who do. every day.

how ignorant so many are of the consequences.

no more.

everything is falling apart.

everyone.
those I see, touch, and know are crumbling in between the minutes-I'm so tired of searching through every moment to reconstruct. brittany is gone. breezes picked up and dispersed the ashes. nothing left to rub on gritted teeth. nothing left to fuel the rage. life's image has revealed itself to me on a cross. hung out for those to make a mockery of-and for me-to feel nothing. there is no love, nor dreams worth fighting to preserve, only lies. self preservation and self interest. living for myself reminds me how much I despise who I am-and everyone who cherishes it... or atleast pretends. you are there, lying in bed alone in his arms. which reality is truth? the seemingly false letters streaming from smooth lips? or the fact that you let him inside-where its been said only I belong?
both? that seems like a bullshit answer you'd give.
mother fucker. when I see you, it won't matter. it won't last.

this cigarette burns too fast.
the ashes flutter like flak in a war torn starry sky. gleaming death falls upon my thigh.
fuck, it stings. a scar-a plea-a reminder of times passed wasting away to burning down the memories sunk gracefully to the bottom of an oil slick body of bodies of bodies.when will I look up from this painful reverie?
my feet know best, they always serve as a trustworthy guide.
walk, walk, walk, just-just no more talk.

randomstuffIwritefromstaringatthegroundtoolong.

dried photosynthesized souls of a perplexed youth.
kill my dreams, fears, and fooled files of reciepts.
dandelions pressed between teeth-eyes filled from beauty underneath.
ants cross canyons, their path predetermined from forces unknown.
hate to say, but I told you so.
hate to say it, but I told you so.

trapped suns from gaze to glance, shadows fall and blend.
this rule will never bend-nor break.
a love which you can fake? hah.
we are no fools.

we are no fools.

American Idol

Ghosts of tired delusions stain the bed sheets. I can taste the salts in my mouth. It makes me want it more. Want to peer through my face? We can all take a closer look. A circus masquerade, a fitting freak show for my captive audience.

Do it. Fucking do it. Recoil operated words will pierce though this mirrored image of disgust. Got greasy palms from holding my head too long-suppose these worn finger tips of mine might slip upon the trigger? A memetic inheritance shall leak through my eyes, mouth, nose, and ears. Subconscious scripts of viral information will run rampant through your system of absolutes and discrepancies. sleep and routine will never cease to be tainted with impermanence.

A pardon from this paradox? Never.

Body parts strewn across your perfect breasts; blood pools around iris barriers, fighting maelstrom force waves from entering the gates to a world full of hatred, hunger, and fury.

My mind is a run on sentence run on moment run on life that won’t end too late too soon. Today is not the day. Your steel is warm now; my ferrous clenched hands have met your welcome half way. I don’t think you’ll see the light of day for a while.

Cut cold from a date soiled by holy urine and pepper spray, I think this won’t feel that bad. The skies hold hues from false gods and millions dead. I see their faces as my worn shoes tread this ground. Sorry for not saying hello, everybody.

Feet kept in line, in step, I’m fine. Really am. The grass bows and wilts under the unforgiving sun and its suppressing army of solar radiation and gusts of terror. Rain on me, fuckers, I don’t care; cancer for the mind, for the sole, for the lord.

Why won’t it end?

The music is playing in her eyes and it’s eating my insides to the tune of a chemical melody. Every note strikes chords with the monotonous beat of my heart.

Stop harmonizing.

Sacrifice your blood for the sake of mankind-for me. Mix this sheet of predictable behaviors, please. I take my stride to a different cadence; every day, every lifetime-a reincarnation of our sins and ripping seams. Time to retire this old thing-old life; old line. Maybe it’s TIME to live by another cheesy quote. Words that don’t belong to me-or you, or anyone alive.

This walk seems to never end. I guess that’s how it goes without a proper destination. Aimlessly through this desert of skeletons, I’ll hide my pride in a sea of sand. Here and there, I’ll bury it shallow; the caving walls prevent anything further. I don’t have anything left; I’ve been stripped bare. I’ll take your pills and empty advice-keep me sedated, keep me alright. Make me whole? I’ll pay the price. She won’t come back, I fucked up more times than I’d like. The guilt is here and the pain won’t subside. My mistakes and fears will never settle. I’ve got the solution but no time to divulge. Goodbye, goodnight, sad settlers of this instant-I’ve got a date to entertain; a needle for my veins.

I should be home right now.
fuck.

I really do.

we woke up hungover, me with a black eye and some nasty gashes.
saw shamu. got splashed by shamu.
dazzled at all the hot scene chicks on fixed gears in austin. went to emo's. that place reminds me of home so much.
experienced the pink monkeyyyyyyyyyyy. I never knew how fun strip clubs could be. plus there's naked and "empowered" women everywhere.
everywhere.
I like this.
time for a shower and a nap before my bike ride :]
adios.

karma collisions.

everybody says I'm better.
maybe they're right-in more ways then they ever meant.

mandatory fun.

i drove with bradley and taylor to the event at BLORA (belton lake outdoor recreation area; the army abbreviates everything). it was a relaxing ride their-bradley's daughter introduced me to turtle bubbles. cool.
when I got there, I got strange looks-as usual-because of the way I dress. honestly I can't deny the fact that i like the attention. I walk up to perez, robles, moore, and berry who are setting up the PA system.
"LEMME GET THE MIC."
"hell no, guy."
perez finally gave in after I explained my undying love for karaoke.
I sung that catfish song, which was well recieved by my peers. but the inevitable happened-and I was replaced with rap music. sigh.

we were there to wish a few people a fairwell, since they were transitioning from military life to civilian. it was nice.


the lake had a veil of mist, protecting it from the early sun. there were low laying clouds rising over the tree covered mountains-and cliffs. all I wanted to do was walk the earth-like jesus.
nobody felt the same, though... which inevitably left me feeling homesick for those who would've understood my desires.
everyone showed up and we speculated on which ladies had the nicest boobs and asses. I wish I could write everything down, but even I have limits to what i can and cannot say...

fuckin afghans.

this dream hasn't been clear in over a week.
"hey, you wanna go for a ride?"
"on your bike?"
"no, in your car. smartass."
"where to?"
"we'll see, I guess. wanna see if clara wants to come?"
"you sure?"
"yeah."
"okay."
I can hear the currents flowing. the rocks refusing to give way. I don't want to be made smooth, don't shear my rough edges.
she talks with such enthusiasm, how could she when I'm around? its surprising how anyone can sustain my eradic personality.
"you ready?"
"hold on."
I take the rest of my uniform off and reach for my shorts. she comes to me.
"you are a gift."
"what?"
"you are a gift."
"why do you say that?"
"I just feel like-I don't really appreciate you as much as I should. you do alot for me."
"I love you, greg."
I kiss her cold lips and slide my shorts on. her eyes drift else where, to a corner of the room.
"you okay?"
"yeah, I'm just thinking."
"should I call the MPs?"
"NO. shut up."
"come on. lets go-is clara coming or not?"
she sighs and looks down at my shoes, kicking them over to me
"yeah, she's gonna meet us out front."
the locker door seals. my woes are safe from sunshine.
we make our way down the all too familiar steps and walk the all too familiar path to the lot. clara is waiting in her car, with a baffled look on her face.
"where we goin?"
"good question, ask him."
"we're taking you're car then, I'm not using MY gas."
I can't stand that fucking girl-she gets on my nerves more than any other. although, she fills empty space quite well, with that mouth that never ceases.
"so olsen, where we goin?"
"you know, you can call me by my first name."
"I know. olsen."
"forget it. britt, just drive towards the wash rack-"
"why are we going there?"
"WE AREN'T. I just-just drive."
the red lights were bipolar fits of rage, involving a pattern of fluctuations between clara's annoying voice and lil wayne's. sometimes it seemed to fit.
we headed out the gate and the flowers ran at our sides.
I roll down the window and hang myself to dry. I can see her smiling, and I can smell them replying.
"so olsen, any idea where we're going yet?"
"yep."
"where, babe?"
"I'll tell you when to stop."
"oh my god. I HATE when you do this-please don't expect me to slam on my brakes like that trip to pet smart."
"don't worry, I'll give you fair warning."
the turns fill my head and the hills overwhelm my heart. I wish you could see this.
we pass a truck on the side of the road.
"STOP!"
"what?!"
"STOP STOP STOP!!"
she pulls over after we pass a small bridge-I can tell she's agitated. oops.
"I TOLD YOU NOT TO DO THAT."
"I'm sorry?"
"IS IT THE RIVER? THAT WERE YOU WANTED TO GO?"
"mhm."
"WHY DIDN'T YOU JUST TELL ME?!"
"because! I wanted it to be a surprise! its more exciting."
I can hear clara laughing over brittany's persistent wailing. it makes me forget how frustrated she really is.

I get out of the car cautiously, watching for passing trucks. I make my way along the outside of the guard rail and down the grassy hills. I can hear it past the trees.
"where are you going?!"
"just come here!"
"wait!"
they carefully trot behind me, daintily and calculating each step-it makes me laugh.
"what?"
"nothing, you're just fucking cute."
"...I know."
she smiles and her eyes glow with the tree's new leaves.
the sun drips.
her gaze fills my mind as we head towards the roaring waters.
I wonder if she'd enjoy this? would she do this with me? would I be any happier? just stop thinking.
I come to a halt before I can even pass the trees. its a drop of about 15 feet; don't think we'll be going down this way...
"what's wrong?"
"um.. we can't get down this way."
"why not?"
"look for yourself."
I miss your fragrance, girl.
"holy shit, thats high."
"we can just walk down underneath the bridge."
"okay."
its steep concrete, and the tension is high. get out of my fucking head.
"GREG. WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?"
"I don't wanna get your car wet."
I sit with my feet in the water, as I pull my clothes off.
"PUT THEM BACK ON."
"no."
"yes."
"make me."
clara watches as brittany follows me into the creek. I walk backwards and taunt her with my shorts above my head.
"GREG. PUT THEM BACK ON."
"no."
she falls over constantly from the awkward surface and the rush of cold water. I run up on shore and throw my clothes on a log.
"greeeeeeeeeeeeg! please put them back on."
I carefully make my way in and get clara from the other side,; she gets on my shouders and laughs.
"thanks, I really didn't know I'd need a bathing suit."
"you don't!"
"nah, I'm good. people can see you, yah know."
"I don't care."
as I'm watching my footing I look up. fuck.
"you don't wanna wear clothes like normal people, asshole? well then."
FUCK. DON'T.
"FETCH."
she winds back and I can't help but react. I release clara from my grips and drop her in. she screams. I trudge through the waters and start swimming after my fleeing garments. thankfully, they were caught by a branch.
"YOU ASSHOLE. OH MY GOD. I can't believe you threw me!"
"I didn't throw you, clara."
"oh my god-yes, you did."
brittany laughs and I smile. we have good times, but for some reason, when I look up from my own two feet, all I can do is wish you're here. why is that? maybe roseanne barr will appear in a vision.
apparently she holds many answers.

no.

aerial archaeology.

vertical highway along a coked up sidewalk.
chalk-chalk-chalk lined lips, don't talk to me.
watch the keys fall as my heels touch down.
the distance is there, the feelings all frown.
believe me yet? you'll trip on lies
til you take your head out'the skies-just watch the cracks.
watch the cracks leading up to our end.
you keep saying there's much to defend.
how is it? that you live it? this lie that we've tamed?
-for you've framed me in this perfect picture to snippet.