Tumbler
Tumblr, I want to share some things with you. For I am going to college and I am going to forget a few things. I will forget how to not have an ugly beard, despite the fact that I cannot yet grow one. I will forget how to disregard the environment, and use the word gay in a derogatory manner. I will forget how to be humble, how to take orders, how to stand in a group. I will be too busy lying under a tree with my guitar writing songs about sex and beards and things. I will take the most opposite pairing of words and try to write them in a way unheard. And of course as my love of indie music sparks and grows I will realize that all my lyrics, vague ideas, and im-so-cute-and-differents are all stale. Stale like the chips on the dorm floor that will never be eaten or thrown away. Stale like this sentence structure. Stale like the self-awareness of my self-awareness. Who am I? Lets have a look at who I’ve been:
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Clint,
awesome job. I don’t know if you won but congrats.
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Dear Clint,
Im going to miss you and your jokes when you are not in my class
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Dear Clint,
I hope you have a nice summer. I like you.
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A (ok) - Good grabber! Love the voice!
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These boats move very fast.
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My foot remains on the sustain, the only way to make the dark clouds company, oh dear why aren’t you here?
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Feed everyday/change cage once a week/keep away from drafts.
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Should I be so grateful to the beast that broke me? Thank you, Lodestar, my love.
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I can’t say I know what I’m doing.
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If I were invincible, life would be great. I would beat people if they didn’t give me things from my list.
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Paige knew quidditch was her only way to the top, she knew she was the best. The clock hit zero, but who gives a shit? The ball flew past harry and all his little shits.
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Provacative first line! W.C.
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A time when hair is feeling a-scaried.
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Eyes on the food always.
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Our first list:
Things to do: 1) Lunch before work 2) Make a pie (apple pie) 3) Do nothing (~6 hours) 4) Eat pie 5) Work on it (napping) 6) Eat more pie
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The war machine? Nothing but a washer in his room and the flocking cars were just his hands, growing and shrinking.
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Look at my wall, I have 3000 posts! Although my virgin wall post is the one I cherish the most.
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Not to brag, but I have more brusies than you victories, more scrapes and scars than your teeth have shine. On a scale from one to ten. You sway high with the ten while I am crushed by the one. One FUCKING DAY. It won’t matter how much more less I have than you because you will be dead. Will I be dead? No, because I will kill you, fucker.
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It seems like life is not pulling me off my fence, or wall. Whichever you perfer because if it were up to me you would see no word, no phrase, no nothing. The process is endless and beginning is meaningless, as are the means. At least theres a nice breeze up here.
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Songs for internship ideas:
-the internet
-Jews killed our lord
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Classy like a suit
Likes his car, it goes “poot”
I am him
Not you nin(nie)
Troubles What I got
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Snaking round your dick
Tickling you balls
Everybody’s waiting
Violent sex rules all
Even though he’s gentle
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Shan-Red (n):
Shannon, but red
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Eliza:
E. gave sticks to birds
Made them fat, They had no chance
She done fucked with God.
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Hot date tonight, eh?
You’re the renaissance woman?
Hey, Go fuck yourself!
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Most of these things are random excerpts from my creative writing book. Some of them are not, like the things from third grade where everyone wrote something in my book. Looking back it was literally all of these things. Except the first part. Some of these have meaning to me, others do not. But I have to remember my concious and subconcious. Otherwise one could try to rule the other with disastrous consequences. I am not going to spell check this because I have a hot date tomorrow morning, at sunrise.
