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    dotsJournal: dots
    Mood: The Usual

    smoking is bad.

    ...Created 2010-01-30 04:07:44

    dotsJournal: dots
    Mood: The Usual

    I am less a poet or artist than an ill-formed pariah and dilettante; my disposition and eccentricities so eliminating as to cast me into a life of inescapable social malfunction and romantic destitution.

    As powerful or heartfelt as some of my poems may seem to some, they are not borne of talent or effort but rather of a simple, effortless description of the existence to which I am tethered.

    Do not pity me; pity the women whose love was blind and hopeful upon meeting me.

    ...Created 2010-01-24 00:57:51

    dotsJournal: dots
    Mood: The Usual

    been writin 'gain

    ...Created 2009-11-23 17:24:03

    dotsJournal: dots
    Mood: The Usual

    not getting divorced it turns out. some people seem to want to love me no matter how much of a douche I can be. dusting the humble happy heart off again. and getting better sleep.

    ...Created 2009-05-03 21:52:02

    dotsJournal: dots
    Mood: The Usual

    to be a minor genius is to rarely be understood, appreciated, or accepted as such. we fall between the crack formed by the masses and the massive geniuses. we are difficult to recognize, even to each other. i am unlikely to believe you if you tell me that you are one too. our rarity is astounding, our genius hard to pin. the few with whom we divulge our "secret" on late nights or trying times will usually make us regret the moment's indiscretion. we are the targets of discredit, not envied but ridiculed. we are lonelier than the moon that circles the earth alone for eons in the times that we are played down as eccentric, weird, lacking common sense, or too sure of ourselves.

    in this way we may come to disregard ourselves just as everyone else has. we may waste our talents on conformtiy so as to escape the crack in which we lie; we may hate ourselves for not being able to take that step onto the plateau of the einsteins, von neumanns, or comparably fantastic ilk. every error is magnified by ourselves and others into proof against the suggestion of genius.

    our experience and perspective morphs our heartbeat and breath and the world around us into an invisible forcefield against which we beat our heads and hearts and loved ones until the absurdity of it all breaks us down to acquiescence, to suicide.

    it is fortunate that our instincts make triggers so hard to pull when barrels our pointed to our temples. in spite of it all, our genius is no less powerful or capable of the creation of beauty or a fulfilling depth of joy. our station in the crack is a gift that is difficult to harness, a greased pig running wild and far.

    we cannot giveup the chase: everything knwon to humanity tastes better when wrapped in bacon and cooked on a hot grill.

    ...Created 2009-04-08 03:05:20

    dotsJournal: dots
    Mood: The Usual

    I am a disease that I hate.
    So stay the fuck away.

    ...Created 2009-03-27 14:09:01

    dotsJournal: dots
    Mood: The Usual

    so often it seems that i am just spewing bull shit and being "funny" or eccentric or acidically cynical, depraved, removed into opposition. but really, my insights just get lost in translation. and the occasional bull shit.

    if i could stop i would. it'd be easier if everyone else just changed instead.

    oh wait, i sound clichéd and contrite. my god, even that sounds cli.....

    fucking mirrors.

    dammit i love a good laugh and original ideas.

    ...Created 2009-03-27 02:28:24

    dotsJournal: dots
    Mood: The Usual

    Well we saw how that went. There was a time when free time existed. More people starved back then, I bet.

    The first time a bird flew, I bet he was like, dude, I am a badass.

    ...Created 2009-02-14 05:16:41

    dotsJournal: See Below...dots
    Mood: The Usual

    The Only Title I Will Except:
    Souls Clash, Particles Depart, Humanity Wins

    This has been an unusual winter.
    It is seen by even the very fruit upon which we feed.
    The stretching of the roots; the bending of wandering branches. Today, I have scene the leaves swim and frolick in a sudden breeze, brown. Yet the trees stand, feasting on what remains. Today...was a good day.

    ...Created 2009-01-04 06:12:56

    dotsJournal: dots
    Mood: The Usual

    i think we should call satan "ricky", and then see if we still think he's such a bad guy.

    ...Created 2008-06-29 16:20:04

    Be kind, take a few minutes to review the hard work of others <3
    It means a lot to them, as it does to you.

    I'm here written by BloodtornAngel
    Cage written by distortedcloud
    When Crows Tick on Windows written by metallichick786
    Limbo written by HisNameIsNoMore
    Ten Poems written by Wolfwatching
    Commencement written by Ramneet
    In the Mouth of Elysium written by HisNameIsNoMore
    Blood to Plowshares written by HisNameIsNoMore
    Convergence written by HisNameIsNoMore
    Wasps written by Wolfwatching
    You Make Me speechless written by elephantasia
    On Top of a Water Wheel written by Wolfwatching
    To the Epilogue written by HisNameIsNoMore
    The Last to Walk the Earth written by HisNameIsNoMore
    Love Can Be... written by HAVENSMITH92
    Can't let my demons go written by faideddarkness
    Born of the Mouth written by MyPeriodical
    Sunt Mala Quae Libas written by MyPeriodical
    Lunch written by HisNameIsNoMore
    All Time Low written by Janesaddiction
    Stretto written by saartha
    Tides of Man written by HisNameIsNoMore
    Bam written by Daniel Barlow
    Legends written by poetotoe
    Our Cinder Crisis written by SavedDragon
    This written by Chelebel
    Unfortunate Reality written by TeslaKoyal
    It's been a while written by Sharati_hottie
    Genesis written by saartha
    Munyonyo written by expiring_touch




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    January 10 07
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