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Thursday, August 2nd, 2001

Subject:Conformity
Time:8:33 pm.
Mood: amused.
Sometimes I like to dance in the dark but only when I know nobody else can see me and the sun's fell asleep for the night. Flashlights are scary and maybe that's why I run when they come towards me. Yes, I'm lost, I'll admit it, but who says I want to be found. No, I don't agree with you, how can you even ask me that question when we're not on the same page. Who's ahead, who's behind, how dare you tell me that I've lost my mind. I hate the way the moonlight has to shine, that's why I close the blinds. I like to not know where to go. Why can't the whole world just be a mystery. Entertainment killed the art so noone understands why I paint the way I might, just fall into the lake again. Drown and kill myself for another day, but it's okay, I'm happy when away. A vacuum of black sucking everything that ever thought about trying to glow. I'm not happy with being alone but it's definately kodak sitting under a tree by yourself playing with flowers at this age. Maybe I'm insane since I don't feel anymore or like to think the way everyone else does. But if I'm happy with myself and no danger to others why can't I just be left alone. What do I want, I don't know, maybe that's why I'm getting nothing. God is empty yet you wonder why the skies gray. Rain drops all over me, I'm drenched and they stare but it feels good, walking through your world, such a odd sight. They all must expect me to be gone by now, or atleast to fade into them, I guess that's what it is.
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Sunday, July 8th, 2001

Subject:Habitual Suicide
Time:12:19 am.
Mood: envious.
I hate this little monkey because no matter how much I try to hate he doesn't. Cooperation is the key in staying sane mr. head seems to say. Then he tries to referee but gets involved and knocks himself out in the 2ed round. Keys unlock doors but they are also small enough to slide under them. Knowledge and power are the basis from which greed grows. If you are able and willing then you go ahead not listening to what involuntary sources may suggest. This monkey isn't a pet but a part of me, not sexually, nonetheless it means alot. Causes love, and other feelings, this is what I call affection. An emotion that killed the cat nine times then dug up the grave and ate it's remains. The side that seems to be argumentative and disagreeing takes the initiative and just goes ahead and climbs the later. I want it to fall almost, I almost just want it to fall. I've got a verticle urge for this girl who could care less. I'm trying to deliver her flowers and admit my heart is hers. But she'll disappear in the clouds before me leaving with a laugh or smile. Drops some rain of confusion on my head and I'm not smart enough to open up the umbrella. I'll just grow in the moist of slimy grass far down under as shrooms do. Seems the sun doesn't even try to make it's way into this shade any longer. All else has failed and given up, seems a trend's begun. Habitual suicide, the Earth or just my world is killing itself off.
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Thursday, July 5th, 2001

Subject:Foggy World
Time:11:08 pm.
Mood: mellow.
Images dancing around in circles deep inside of my head of a long since passed away and forgotten memory. There are flowers growing at it's graves but the knomes have picked and stolen them once again to take home and make lovely decorations for the walls with. The children crucify flies to make their father proud, and he's got a potbelly and enjoys cigars alot. While at the same time deer frolick in country fields just avoiding hunters traps while the angry men get drunk and beat their wives at home. All this thought boils the brain like an egg on a pan losing all life and giving up on survival making me sick. Vomit tastes so nasty but blood is good, why can't I have a slurpy. This is just complicating my senses where my taste is of freshly grown strawberries but along with hunger there's a terrible vision of lava erupting from horny volcanos and this exciting site becoming blurred and children are running away screaming at their parents for not warning them of this eruption and it's so dangerous and chaotic, smoke everywhere and lifes are just ending like musical notes. I hear a piano played along with the wind and the ocean tides bring in such a lovely melody, beaches are beautiful. But here, at home, it's a war, gunshots rising and last words being said and my hearing seems to be taking drops on the snowly slopes at new amazing lengths of depths and time intervals have lost their paths and are running through space not knowing where to go like chickens with their heads chopped off. I'm confused yet at the same time being entertained by such a fucked up mind while kids hop scotch out my window I sharpen a knife and those mushrooms look so juicy, saliva slobbering on my lip. But they may hold poison and if consumed it could be deadly. You've been told and you know you shouldn't eat them but you do so anyway such an adventure in another land so far away where the sky is yellow and clouds are purple.
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LiveJournal for systemfreak.

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