choose your weapon...

Movies (4) Photos. (47) Poetry (16) Quotations. (76) Words (15) Writings. (137)

Sunday, February 28, 2010

heSurvived*

dick jokes can suck my dick.* iMade my own.


go sub NOW. please.

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

If you can pretend as hard as I'm pretending, and imagine as hard as I've imagined, then this is not going to be the first time we've ever met.

Friday, February 19, 2010

cheated.

I think, in some disheartening and completely twisted way, you can almost define a past relationship by the way you broke up. Mine were never very dramatic, never even close to anything that happens in the movies. It wasn’t a flame being drenched in gallons of water all at once… it was the slow, steady fizzle of light rainfall. All in debt to the shocking percentage who happened to cheat on me. I suppose monogamy could truly be the most difficult fight against Mother Nature that the male species will ever encounter. So much in fact, that I don’t believe in second chances anymore. My immediate abandonment of forgiveness was never rooted in jealousy or rage… or even despair. It was the simple fact that I cared about them all. I cared so much that the mere thought of his flesh against anyone else's…him sharing that level of intimacy and him willing to risk it all for an hour or two of mindless pleasure... made me want to throw up in my mouth a little bit. It made my skin tight and the pit of my stomach lurch up into my throat. It strangled me until I gave up completely and the only thing left to do was walk away. Nothing hurts more than realizing he meant everything to you, but you meant nothing to him. I could easily throw around counter opinions that usually go in some form of the ultra lame “everyone makes mistakes.” Or simply “drunk choices gone wrong,” but you know that’s all bullshit. Mistakes happen, but cheating.. is not one I'm able to tolerate. There’s always that moment where he can look around and realize, ‘hey… even if I’m supremely wasted and my girlfriend’s not around, maybe I shouldn’t stick my penis in that vagina that isn't hers.’ If you are sober enough to have sex… you are sober enough to say no.

End of fucking story.

Sunday, February 14, 2010

(my three new words)

rollick: (verb)
to move or act in a carefree, frolicsome manner

incalescent: (adjective)
increasing in heat or ardor.

voracious  (adjective)
1. craving or consuming in large quantities
2. exceedingly eager or avid

Friday, February 12, 2010

"jack johnson's world"

Why don't the newscasters cry when they read about people who die? At least they could be decent enough to put just a tear in their eyes. Mama said, it's just make believe. You cant believe everything you see. So baby close your eyes to the lullabies on the news tonight.

Monday, February 8, 2010

somnus noctis.

Over the last week or two, I have been dreaming of music. It always starts from beneath my feet. Seeping out from the earth itself… layering into the mountains and trees… or flowing through the ocean and drifting up to meet the clouds. Each one of these dreams left me awake and at peace. Left me discovering a smile on my heart. Left me with the realization that after years of working on myself, and trying to understand my dream reality… that music is anywhere you want it to be. Maybe that is the real reality, not the one that we all get so caught up in. When I’m trapped now, or when the Other sneaks up and tries to manipulate my emotions… I remember a world overflowing with song, and these days, I have been listening more closely to what it’s trying to say to me. From beneath my feet, my musical dreams lift me up to an untouchable plain, where my inner darkness can’t stifle me. Where I am alone but never lonely. I heard a quote once somewhere saying, “music washes away the dust of everyday life”… and I think only now, do I truly understand the meaning.

Sunday, February 7, 2010

the PESOgirls.

The foreign men around here are deluded into thinking they are something so damn special. Simply.. and honestly… because the hot, young hookers have perfected the ability to make them feel attractive, important, and loved. For just a few thousand pesos a night. They are wrapped up in this endless supply of tricks and tips and lines… all used and delivered with the subtle mixture of naughty and nice. Innocent, but willing. A one night exchange of body parts for cash… is manipulated into feeling pretty damn close to paradise. So it’s all fantasies and disillusions swirling up in the egos of these foreign men living in the Philippines… until one day. There, swinging in through the thick log doors of the local expat pub, the young white chick strolls in… and it’s BOOM. Reality kick to the face. Within seconds, everything is off balance. No one knows what just happened, but we all feel it. The moment of ego deflation. Sometimes, I swear there is a slight breeze as it happens. A deep exhale of confidence as the walls start to crack and come crumbling down in the form of a list.

No, you are not a catch. No, your boring job does not impress her, no matter how good you might be at it. No, your wallet is not enough to get her in your bed. No, she will not follow you around like a lost puppy dog. No, she will not mold herself to suit your needs. Yes, she has something to say, and yes, she will speak her mind, even if you don’t like it. Yes she has layers and yes, some of them go deeper than you might be able to. Yes, she is more interested in being your friend and not at all in being your toy. Yes, she will demand respect and no, she will not tolerate those who don’t give it to her.

a dark smile

She carries darkness with her
through
a deserted swamp
and
up
a
dying
tree.
Lost in finding.
Winged and wounded.
Soon...
Nothing
ripples
into
everything.

if you happen to be a billionaire...