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(no subject) [Apr. 17th, 2005|09:00 pm]
[music |From Ashes Rise- The Final Goodbye]

And I remember
Every night that I held you
You kept me safe from a year and a half
it’s all coming back
Every horrid night
Being devoured by what I lost
And you saved me from that.
When snow fell on your window
I used to fall asleep watching you breathe
Angel eyes, you drew me in
And I can’t let you go

I miss your hope
I miss the air rising off your breath
Like ghosts to heaven
I walked at night with you
Leaving footsteps in the snow
See it fall, see it fill
Now the footsteps are only mine.
And I’m running from what I lost again.
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FAAAALLLLLLLLL DOWN, MARIGOLD [Nov. 12th, 2004|12:06 am]
[mood |stoked]
[music |The Appleseed Cast - Steps and Numbers]

I've figured out about half of Low Level Owl: Volume 1 and a few songs off Two Conversations. Today is a good day.
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HAPPY HALLOWEEN! [Oct. 31st, 2004|07:30 pm]
[mood |excitedexcited]
[music |Jawbreaker - Boxcar]

So delightfully offensive!
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(no subject) [Oct. 18th, 2004|11:37 am]
[mood |goddamnit, heath.]
[music |Refused - Poetry Written In Gasoline]

I wake up this morning with the thought of making myself a nice breakfast. So, I wander into the kitchen, and become befuddled- what's this sickly-smelling liquid covering the kitchen counter? And what's that brown shit all over the ceiling? Then, I notice a half-empty wine bottle, standing upright, with its cap lying next to it, covered in the brown, quasi-fermented goop that was Heath's grand apple-cider experiment.

Now, I ain't no chemist, but apparently, fermentation creates a lot of gas- which was apparently enough to pop the cork and spray vaguely alcoholic apple chunks all over the kitchen. The ceiling looks like someone blew their brains out next to it, and there's smelly brownish-black goo everywhere that smells like a cross between Pacific Street's alleyways and apple pie. I think I'm gonna go clean that shit up right now.

Is it any wonder that the words "goddamnit, Heath!" are the most oft-repeated phrase in our house?
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(no subject) [Oct. 18th, 2004|12:30 am]
[mood |lonelylonely]
[music |Sunny Day Real Estate - The Ocean]

as in slumber, so shall we sleep.

and in loneliness, so shall we weep.
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ash [Oct. 10th, 2004|11:38 pm]
[mood |sleepysleepy]
[music |circle takes the square- a crater to cough in]

there was a night that we ran from everyone
ducking through darkness and weaving through trees
with a new sense of solidarity as the branches stretched
and scratched at our faces while the wind sang
in the key of distant sirens and in the language of ghosts.

we breathed a sigh and watched the smoke spiral from our mouths
and dreamed of those ash-laden breaths drawing us up from the ground
and we silently prayed, "carry us, carry us away. let us soar
with our soot-stained wings. never let us touch this dirt again."
we never flew, but still we blew out smoke and dreamt of flight.
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rant [Aug. 10th, 2004|02:27 am]
[mood |calmcalm]

i can read the lines marked on your wrist
'the scarlet letter' with a modern twist
the brakes squeal with a mindless hiss
and you start to wonder if you'll be missed
because the headlights blind you
with swollen eyes so hard to see through
five new cracks in a broken rearview
give no clues as to what you should do
so you spin the wheel and feel it lock
like shells in a shotgun with a velvet stock
or the empty voices through which we talk
and a name to the monsters that we can't fear
all the prices we paid to disappear
and the things we traded to arrive here
punch-drunk disheveled and trying to steer
with clenched fists and bloodshot eyes
our heads swimming with easy lies
of greener grass and bluer skies
echoing a broken record of rallying cries
with a skipping needle that can't equate
to the insults i shout at manufactured fate
with ham-fisted screams i equivocate
the blessed blasphemies i love to hate.
it takes a flip of my wrist to make the blade engage
and a twist of my fingers to put words on the page
a release of the bowstring to let fly the rage
and a flick of the lighter to burn down the stage.
this conflagration will purify all
the dead skin, the dead leaves, the heretic's scrawl
spilled life from your car crash moves at a crawl
my self-righteous fire will yield to no wall.
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________|\______\o/____ SHARK ATTACK! [Jul. 18th, 2004|11:47 pm]
[mood |tee hee.]
[music |Honor System - Nails]

Best line from "Shark Attack 3: Megalodon"

"I'm tired, but a bit wired. How about I take you back to my place and eat your pussy?"

Oh, badly dubbed Russian movies. Don't ever change.
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(no subject) [Jul. 16th, 2004|06:49 pm]
[mood |curiouscurious]
[music |Leftover Crack - Super Tuesday]

Contemplating going back on the edge. For a long, long time.
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(no subject) [Jul. 9th, 2004|10:22 pm]
[mood |sadsad]
[music |The Weakerthans- Fallow]

lovers wrote their names up here
with living hearts and warm hands,
they dragged the weakest ink
across the strongest metal.
making promises with no witnesses
and so one could ask
how many poems did the sky hear?
how many words did the wind take?
how many tears did the ground catch?
does the steel beneath clenched fingers
give resolve to an anxious heart?
and I stand here
and I ask for two things
a pen to mar the metal
and the courage to write our names.
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