every lament is a love song

its funny how one picture can take me so far away from you i can't even see you
but i can still feel you
then you show me another picture, and just so easily as i walked away i come running back
and you still take me back
the grip around my throat is gone, and you've replaced it with an embrace
there is nothing in the fields of existence that will make me stay away.
in a world full of sheep, you are the lion that could eat us, but protects us instead

a subtle low five behind the back and i know i'm back with you

a freaking butt punch

come, come, lets dance the dance of fun. lets hook us up to wires, and float upon the ceiling imitating flight! what?! what is that?! LAUNDRY?!?! my heart ECHOES. rubbing. squeezing. those sounds are lost upon what we call shouting. for joy of the laundry. only puppies eyes and seals noses can surpass what the world knows as love. OUR love. love for all things arrested and developed. a love evolved through on passing private jets and the giving of blankets. while the world hides like ostrich, we prance, like PONY!
the fields are as plain and folded like linen on tuesdays.
just for us!

george clooney is good with a beard

the life we attest to becomes trivial in the pursuit (hehehehe)(LAME) of a righteous calling that won't indulge in the incessant nagging of the selfish self. the only escape from untamed passion or the only freedom from an uncontrolled desire is the priority plastered in a family system. the mold cast in mirrors reflects only the new proclamation of importance bestowed upon the ones who sculpted the reason. the secondary upheaval with moderation is placed upon the balance of discipline and obedience. its a sad day because heath ledger died. its an awesome day because God loves me.

my list of things that exist, but don't need too. that i also dont care for.

rippled chips.
belts.
helmets whilst walking.
the clapper.
the clap. ..... std.
two and a half men.
da kink in my hair.
dead birds.
this list.
unsatisfied cravings of doughnuts in the krispy kreme variety. (ALEXXX!! shakes fist.)
channel 108. i know it exists.
blu ray.
childrens saliva.
pelican poop.
whatever i was thinking that inspired this notsowellthoughtoutnote.
underweartotingjacketforgetting21yearolds.

cancer. that is all. till i remember what made me feel so whitty.

10 reasons why the monarch rules

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

what?! but that was my best entrance ever!

fingerspasmsuntilljeffgetshereanwegotobanff

theres a lot less light in here than before, but its probably because the sun went down. liquid chemicals bonding fear to reason making lasting impressions on limestone canvases full of meaningless messages that are sent to the lost but get lost along the way. no one can crave what i crave but if you do then highfive to you, making me rhyme eh? i'm gonna shove you. not hard, justa gentle makeyoutripoveryourownfeet shove, one that is forceful yet loving. the apparatus is screaming at me and i like it because i'm all alone. only for now you see, but in times ahead perilous misadventure mixed with rope feelings drench the soul of the two that are together to much. tooooo much. but its none of mine yours or ours so a buttout we shall be. lighter liquid chemicals bonding passion to ability, drenching the walls of the mind in bitter plights of constant re-evaluation, and loving it. vowels do no good when you have to press double hard to get what you want. so much time to do whatever and the more time passes the more desire grows to do nothing with it. honing an eyeball to not look is as easy as telling a puppy to be ugly. well now i want one. bass travels at an alarming rate when old complainy people are about. its not them, its the guilt of arrousing them that allows for the volume to stay in guy code. its ashame, it could rock our world you see. ONCE MORE a chemical of solid properties glances of what it should be bonding respectfully and heads off in the way it wasn't meant to be, and we accept it with what we call independence of ourselves especially when we ignore a calling so loud we have to drown it out with specially formed excuses of maniacal futility cartoned together with what were told to be. space once, double is received when only one was wanted.

bebob and rocksteady

its rising can you feel it? anyone slightly in tune with the word of God can surely feel it. how dare we turn down the love we do not deserve. who are we to say no to the unconditional freedom we've been given as a gift upon a gift. surely one should be enough. surely. there is wonder in mystery.

hooray harah sans pulp it is! pure, unadulterated but minorly filtered, pure orangey goodness.

the excitement hidden in mediocrity extends like an arm to an apple when the potential for greatness surges on the shores of imagination to the one who will make it happen

someone searching for closure has to search the entire earth before he finds it, but in order to find it, he has to find God

what lacks is the freed and redeemed.
someone with so much passion and no purpose to put it is lost amidst was should matter.
the vision is blurred only by the bass that controls it.
fate unfortunately paired with the past.
trouble on soul like fat kid on cookie.
lights out to never again flicker once the door has been closed.
a sword, once fiction now indefinitely real, cutting through the garbage of what once was whole.
the need to be broken.
half man all void.

a letter to my baby brother

broho,
thank you for existing. i don't want to think of how you were created but i am glad that you were. i don't know what i would do without you. i don't know who's life to be infinately excited for without you. you can do whatever you want, whenever you want, because your amazing at anything you touch. do something fun. do something important and amazing that'll affect peoples lives for Christ. you stone faced punk, don't go breakin girls hearts. get a fun wife or i'll slap your calf. i'm going to break your tearless face one day. because really its not fair, whenever i leave its you who draws my tears so easily. i'm sorry i'm not around as your becoming a man. its really my one great deep painful sadness, and even thinking about not being here for you puts a pit in my stomach. sorry i broke brett favre's nose... ink is very permanent. i love you

s'always the same

always a great sadness looming over a great excitement. two homes, one heart. freedom for hours, chains for months. a great unrest followed by a great relief pursued by a great dissension. the primary is still the objective but the secondary has the spotlight. the journey starts up again with a lighter load but more passengers. confliction is the game of choice.

those'r weak

still can't shake the non-deleting. its like life when you mess up. the mistake needs to stay in painful view for all to see or be forgotten along the other meaningless experiences that didn't help shape character or personal dexterity. insomia sprouts when worry prevails, and worry surfaces when the possiblity of change becomes a reality based upon decision. the outcome will inevitably be the same, but the path to get there changes dramatically from familiarity, and selfish fortitude shifts what should be excitement into something that teems with unrest at 4am. the only comfort that can be taken is it will either be a readable mistake, forgettable livepass or an amazing adventure. all have their place but only 2 work for the life that likes growing. who needs sleep anyways. productivity is not as bunk as 15 hours of unconcious mental drainage when the other 9 hours are split between a couch and social touch. once the worry is dealt with it splits into what can be done about it, and what can be done about it is almost as exhausting as the worry, as willingness to start immediately for fear of losing the idea drives the stay for alertness. on and on, untill a pillow finds its way to a head that is afraid of the sleep it needs. phwahhh!

drugs are useless

unless its ginger! to calm your stomach! too bad i'm too stubborn to try medical means. myself likes to think i'm stronger if i let my immune system take care of it. as well as my fears won't allow me to throw up because of the hatredic nature of it, instead i sit an bear hours of unmoving pain when really it could be heaved in 34 seconds. but thats gross. eww indeed with nausia. i spelled it with a c in there earlier and earlier still i chose to not type it because i flat out didn't know. hours later and more accutely my brain concentrates on what matters and still it remains to be the cross on my wrist. sharpie it may be but truth it speaks and steers back into the middle of the road it takes me. this clearly still needs closure. acceptance is death, avoidance is death, but later. so much time but not nearly time enough to satisfy the slightest of urges in the littlest directions. but pressure aside it'll be nice to dive into whats known and the uppability of the pressure that is sure to reside in changing times and open lives. party over there whoo!