FUCKIN' MOSH CUNTS!

michael stothard, more like fuck off

The thing about huckleberries is, once you try fresh, you'll never ever go back to canned.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOODOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!
WHHHHHEEEEEOOOOOOWOWOWOWOWOWOW!!!!!!

sleeved my entire arm yesterday in colour. fake of course. took some photos before washing it off, feels like a part of me is gone. unfortunately the photos are analog.

I'm a mess of insecurities
Attention starved with a narcissistic twist
Don't you think that I'm amazing?
Please tell me I'm worth dating
I have every reason not to leave home today
(Home today, home today, home today)

Mirror mirror how amazing is my figure?
Your visitors they fall apart before my pictures
Mirror how amazing is my figure?
Your visitors they fall apart before my pictures

Please don't believe
My words are lacking honesty
I'll be the boy you can't resist
You'll be the tenth girl on my list
I'll write your name upon my chest
These less than three's will never rest
Please don't believe my words are lacking honesty

Mirror mirror how amazing is my figure?
Your visitors they fall apart before my pictures
Mirror how amazing is my figure?
Your visitors they fall apart before my pictures

You'll be the last girl on my list
Action's just a click away
These things photographs could never say
You'll be the last girl on my list
Action's just a click away
These things photographs could never say

Please dont believe
(You'll be the last girl on my list)
My words are lacking honesty
(Action's just a click away)
Please dont believe
(These photographs could never say)
My words are lacking honesty

Never Again.
I'll slit my throat with the knife I pulled out of my spine.
Maybe when you find out that I'm dead,
you'll realize what you did to me.

And if my lungs still let me breathe,
would you be there for me.
If I can make myself believe,
I'll give you back what you took away.

No, I won't let it go.
Douse myself in gasoline.
So don't save me when you come into the fire.
I'd rather die than have to see your smile.

And if my lungs still let me breathe,
would you be there for me.
If I can make myself believe,
I'll give you back what you took away.

You made me swear

You made me swear

I can't sleep.
Realize all these things that you took from me.
Smash my heart (you made me swear)
into dust. (you made me swear)
Suffocate my mind. (you made me swear)
Tear at me from inside. (you made me swear)
Smash apart what you created.
How can i ever stop you from crushing my soul?
It was yours to begin with.

And if my lungs still let me breathe,
would you be there for me.
If I can make myself believe,
I'll give you back what you took away.

girls are for fags.

Go
Coward, the next time you want to fuck me over stab me in the front

(Can I still see my future in your eyes?)

Or can I picture myself stone dead in your embrace
And your cruel crimson smile, kills me twice as hard

No one could have their moments free from your withering touch
Fuck off like you're the only one

(Person that has cried or been broken by love )

Spare me your pity party
drunk off your own misfortunes
Wallowing in your blissful melancholy
Can you taste my blood?
You knew that this would kill me
But you carried on and on
With your selfish shit
Everyone cared about you
Why couldn't you ?
Instead your greed compelled you to steal other silver linings.
Burnt down my world
You killed my hope
Spread out the ash and walked away
How could you just close off your eyes
Turn tail and run
You are the greatest coward

Coward
Damn right I am still pissed
Next time I see your face we'll see who has the upper hand
Kiss my fist
Taste the floor
Tired of your games
Fuck off goodbye

So unaffectionate, so insecure
You claim to know a thing or two about heartache
And what it's like to have your insides torn out
And I believe you
I see it every time your pallbearer's pallor is
obscured by the darkness (the darkness)
Dancing across your face (across your face)
and when the blackness veils your eyes in pain
I know what it's like when memories make you wince
And love letters read like obituaries
And photo albums are the books of the dead
I need no reminders no more reminders
I'll forget the past and lay it to rest

If I had my way
I'd cut the calluses
off your breaking heart
If I could get past the sternum
Cauterize those wounds with
Every kiss I could give to you
I'm holding your heart in my hands
The reason it still beats

Am I being too cryptic?
Am I being too obscure?
Am I being too cryptic?
Am I being too obscure?

Love kills, romance is dead
And I don't even trust myself
But I love you
And you can pull my wings apart
And pin me down under glass
Until the end of days if it can help you
Discover that we share the same pain
I just hope you write your thesis
Before your subject is dead
No life after death

If I had my way
I'd cut the calluses
off your breaking heart
If I could get past the sternum
Cauterize those wounds with
Every kiss I could give to you
I'm holding your heart in my hands
The reason it still beats

If I had my way
I'd cut the calluses
off your breaking heart
If I could get past the sternum
Cauterize those wounds with
Every kiss I could give to you
I'm holding your heart in my hands
The reason it still beats


...oh yeah, jindy was "farken epic ay"

I woke up at 4:30 this afternnon.

i just remembered! my journal is full of drawings of scenesters! hahahahahahahahahahahahaha!
and also my mad rad sick cool tattoo ideas. why are tattoos so cool, and WHY will it cost so much for me to get both my arms sleeved (apart from the fact that they are fucking incredible pieces of art). and WHY is my mother so fucking conservative???

so heres the situation

i get home, say...3:50pm. put music on, sit down, eat, relax.
4:00ish, get out guitar. proceed to play.
4:30, still playing, only by now playing along to favourite songs or learning new shit.
4:50, having pure uninterrupted fun with possibly the greatest instrument apart from the kazoo.
then...around 5:15.
i hear the automatic garage door begin to creak open. at this time, my stomach turns. i have never been looking into a mirror at this moment, but i would gamble that the colour literally drains from my face.
then, up the stairs she comes, irritable and brimming with faux-new age "tough love" bitchiness. my creative juices stop. and its a fucking effort to get them going again. from then on every night consists of that horrible feeling you used to get back in like year 7 and eight, when you actually cared, when you are going over the possibily of a terrible test mark.

i have to leave this house. leave this woman to preach her Wayne Dyer/ Louise L Hay etc. influenced cocktail of vitriolic rhetoric to anyone else who gets in her war. i have to go.

but not to go to my dads, because i dont even want to get into his myriad of "lovable" quirks...shudder.
i have to leave here soon, and come back and show her that ive made something of myself, and that i didnt "turn out like my father".
arent photographer dads supposed to be cool? and brimming with a broad general knowledge of all things musical? it seems i got the runt of the born:1945 photographer litter.

fuck, i bitch. i really do. but who gives a fuck? its fun! everyone who has an lj knows that!

WHY do i have to go to bed at 11 on a fucking long weekend night?!?! RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRGH!!!!!
i reckon ive got some shit off my chest, but .argh. i just want to write more! so i'd better stop.

as i sit here cleaning red pick shavings and assorted dusty crap from under the strings of my guitar

i miss your intoxicating scent
i miss your voice
i miss you

and i can't help but hope that you feel the same

fuck you're shallow

just get over it cunt

i just remembered i am 17 and have not my L's.
















so?

so i've had the odd thought or two about her this last week, in that i have not gone for more than some kind of very small amount of time without thinking about her, often in that doe-eyed, tripped out, totally ignorant of my surroundings and circumstances fashion. and its so intense it spins me out. the weirdest thing though, is thats shes been there all along and (although we've been very very good friends) i just havent noticed or acknowledged that fact. why? i honestly have no idea, but now that nonstop thoughts of her have wormed their way into my head, she has basically assumed command of my abstract mind.

[on an unrelated note, one of my false teeth just fell the fuck out of my mouth]

so um, 24th June = Avenged Sevenfold new album instore at good ol' JB. HIM album soon too. But of course HIM just makes me think of her.


but i'm not complaining.
we seem to work together. its early stages, yes, and we're only testing the waters, but it seems pretty probable at the moment.
kingdom of heaven turned out to be an awesome movie. i am boy, so the amount of blood, guts and general posing in armour with swords made me happy. I unfortunately missed some of the film to other activities [read: MACK] with the subject of this treatise. but does that matter? its fiction based around a true event, and i am a history nerd, so i can figure it out for myself. i can also, i just realised, use the valuable historical and philosophical lessons learnt in tonights film event to further Syria's position in the middle east history arab-israeli simulation thing, but i really think that our group should just keep giving weapons to claire and alex so that they can terrorise our enemies, primarily israel, trent fuller and mr cornelius.

i just realised that my guitar skills have actually improved since i started playing six?seven? years ago. this realisation makes me rather happy actually! so um, yeah. i ...think i might actually go and play some guitar. nothing too tech, mind, cos im a bit tired. so some generic punk songs will do the trick, easy, plus i can look cool to an invisible audience while i play. yeah. speaking in this train of thought..a)what am i going to do to my hair to make it look fucking eXelent (no I AM NOT fucking straightedge by the way, so don't read anything into that capitalised x).b) why does my mother shoot down my hair ideas as "white trash satanism"???. c) tight pants!!!.d) WHEN THE FUCK ARE ESS GOING TO RING ME ABOUT MY TRASHED DENIM MACBETHS THAT I ORDERED TWO WEEKS AGO ON THE PROMISE THEYD BE IN IN THREE DAYS?!?!?...ok cool. oh yeah. remember i also want plugs...possibly white.

ok. master control.
*crrrk* signing off. *crrk*











(i got the straight edge)



...



but no. and most probably NEVER. yep. bye. send one dollar to "happy dude", 742 evergreen terrace.

yep.

so. i just joined a year 8 death metal band.

phahahahahahahahahahahahaahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahaahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahhahahahaaha!!!

For what you did to me
And what I'll do to you
You get, what everyone else gets
You get a lifetime
Let's go

Do you remember that day when we met
You told me this gets harder
Well, it did
Been holding on forever
Promise me that when I'm gone, you'll kill my enemies
The damage, you've inflicted temporary wounds
I'm coming back from the dead and I'll take you home with me
I'm taking back the life you stole

We never got that far
This helps me to think all through the night
Bright lights that won't kill me now, won't tell me how
Just you and I, your stareless eyes remain

Hip hip hooray for me
You talk to me
But would you kill me in my sleep
Lay still like the dead
From the razor to the rosary
We could lose ourselves
And paint these walls in pitchfork red

I will avenge my ghost with every breath I take
I'm coming back from the dead and I'll take you home with me
I'm taking back the life you stole

This hole you put me in
Wasn't deep enough and I'm climbing out right now
You're running out of places to hide from me
When you go, just know that I will remember you
If living was the hardest part
We'll then one day be together
And in the end, we'll fall apart
Just like the leaves change in color
And then I will be with you
I will be there one last time now

When you go just know that
I will remember you

I lost my fear of falling
I will be with you
I will be with you

hmmmm. i just wrote 3+ pages of the most wanky nonsense Bismarck-based bullshit i have ever put to paper. and i found it rather fun. what's that all about? maybe bismarck is just fun, period.

fear my display pic.