And a series of photos of me getting really fucked up

listening to: some bullshit rap from a party in the kitchen

wathing: Skins, and Broken Embraces

SEX and, who the fuck is she?

You must not have heard about how important I am now
Since we last spoke I got very good looking
I don't know how, but I, and my many new male compatriots would agree, that I look great
Also, I have come into a social scene that worships me
they hang on my last word, and would kill for some insight into my mysteriously desireable and sexy misterîe.
All the invitations I cannot count, to  make an appearance here, dance there
If I'm there its a party, and I know all the right dance moves
My social life is pregnant with opportunity and glamour, it seems I can hardly even keep up.
awh, I can hardly keep up.
Those shorts I wear, with the little deers, the sun doesn't even coax me outside.  I've got stuff to do but the effort seems just too much.  too much angst in going out there.  I haven't showered in days, and I have sweat of other people from the concert all over me.  I put on perfume to go to class.  You know, the one you once swooned over.  The perfume smells awful on me now, and it's not because of my bathing, but because I've changed.  Books and school are well and good, but lets not pretend I give a fuck right now. You never liked school either.
I'm trying hard to find a drug that I'm good at, but I can't, I dont like any of them, none of them stick or make it feel differently.  I can't be straight edge either, because thats what you are.
In my mind sometimes I glamourize my apathy
Maybe this drawing will be the key tattoo, maybe the more soul searching I do, the better mental masturbation will arise.  Something I never told you before you know, is FUCK YOU for ruining sex for me.  fuck you for giving me the best sex i'll probably ever have, and then running away with it. 
Sure, she looks like Mary Kate, and probably has more energy than I could imagine, but I have your books, && a pair of your old socks that you may need again.
And I'm also not very romantic anymore, it's mostly your fault  because your jaw line makes my body quiver, and the words that fall are covering up my desire you jump you like your mine again.
Who the fuck do you think you are leaving this important and glamorous mess, her music sucks, and you'll never have as good inside jokes as we did.
Also, I doubt she'll be able to deal with your road rage or insomnia the way I could. can.
 I don't like drugs but I do like you.You gave my world structure, purpose, and great sex and  I am not unmad about what you've done to me.

Saw Tom Gabel last night,

and you didn't so go fuck yourself

TGIF

Black Hole Masses

So now I've wasted this time,

bought by beneficiaries 

unknown sugar daddies, 

and the galactic thugs

all in order to educate myself 

to defeat them someday

to protest their build, and reproduction

using their money to arm myself against them

And no, its not really wasted,

not as wasted as the prospect of romance 

in this over exposed world 

You once said Punk is Dead,

well I'm here to tell you that Love is Dead.

yes, dead on on a road paved with leather and steel stud forms

lighted by burning british flags, scent of stale cigarettes

This isn't fun anymore,

dancing with no partner

"In Chapter 24, we saw the standard model of active galactic nuclei accepted by most astronomers -- accretion of gas onto a supermassive black hole.  We also say that a large fraction of all "bright"galaxies exhibit activity of some sort, even though in many cases it represents only a small fraction of the galaxies total energy output.  This suggests the potential of far greater activitiy under the right circumstances.  Our own galaxy is a case in point.  The 3-4 million-solar-mass black hole at the center of the Milky Wat is not currently active, but if fresh fuel were supplied (say, by a star or molecular cloud coming too close to the hole's intense gravitational field), it might well become a (relatively weak) galactic nucleus."

 

Listening to recently (since it's been awhile):

Randy Rogers Band

Country Strong Soundtrack (that's right)

Oh Land

Typhoon

The Smiths

disarm or die

We walk the streets at night
We go where eagles dare
They pick up every movement
They pick up every loser
With jaded eyes and features
You think they really care

I ain't no goddamn son of a bitch
You better think about it baby
I ain't no goddamn son of a bitch
You better think about it baby, babe

An omelet of disease awaits your noontime meal
Her mouth of germicide seducing all your glands

I ain't no goddamn son of a bitch
You better think about it baby
I ain't no goddamn son of a bitch
You better think about it baby, babe

Let's test your threshold of pain

Let's see how long you last
That's happened in your rape
On bosoms of your past

With jaded eyes and features
You think they really care
Let's go where eagles dare
We'll go where eagles dare

"Where eagles Dare" - The Misfits