Category: Uncategorized

Sept 08, 2018

Never get close to something you love
Why did you have to turn out this way
I miss you
But no I’m not going to write that poem
For a moment I could forget
All that fell between us
Pretend we are going to meet
Like I wanted so bad
Just for fun
Just for this moment
It would have been nice
Had you stayed by my side
If you never let me down


Oct 7, 2018

Its just too much
Of course…
I loved you.
I just loved you too much,
It was just too painful
To not be together,
To not know how
We would be together.
My heart is heavy…
Sinking now.
Goats always win,
Going slow, patient.
I’m not strong
Like you.
I can’t wait.
It’s not your fault.
I was mean
To make you hate me.
But it didn’t work?
Since the start
I was scared and sad.


Oct 10, 2018

You can’t have a relationship
Based on ifs
It’s not a game to me
I give up too easily
I mean what I say
Not a, I like you
But deep devotion
Or else destruction
Relationships are trust
That’s all they are


Nov 15, 2018

Competition love game
Rinse repeats
Das Ende
Nicht Auf…
Nur Wiederzen

What’s tinkering
In my heart
Will remain unseen
Talking talking talking
Talk to me


Dec 2, 2018

How can it be that I dont know how to put what i feel into words. Or maybe by revealing them even to myself I’m afraid it will get fucked up again. It’s sad. I really dont want to let this one go. I really want everyone to fuck off. But I’m to afraid to be direct. If I miss the window will I miss the opportunity. I just want this one to last.


Dec 19, 2018

I swore I wouldn’t say I love you
But he said it that day he filmed that
And I couldn’t say it back
But he wrote today, it was worth the wait
Cause I said I love you more, good night
Dont forget this you…
You know it was hard to say
You had to be drunk, almost passed out
Sentimental and needing him
To realize you need him
Fuck every one else
Fuck what they think
We need each other
I do, I want him more than anyone, ever








Diary, Jan 26

So I was supposed to get a mri yesterday but instead I learned I’m claustrophobic. I was in there 3 times for about 15 seconds and my body freaked out each time. Mentally I was fine but my body went in to panic mode. The technician said I was really calm about it, most people freak out and swear n stuff. I’m like I know, cause I’ve been through some bad shit in my life and know how to control my emotions. Ain’t nobody ever accused me of being weak.

Seriously though I felt like my soul was going to leave my body. I guess that’s what dissociation feels like. It even took me a few hours to get back to reality fully. The hospital was a Catholic institution, so it had these crazy vaulted ceilings and religious art all over and even a pretty little chapel. So it was already weird to feel like in a church atmosphere, I’m like extremely sensitive to spiritual places already.

So yeah that sucks, that I won’t be able to know what ever happened to my spine. I guess there are open mri machines but I when I looked into it they only in special centers that are located in very rich parts of the city. So yeah, I guess only rich people feel pain and can get cured of it, sarcasm implied…


Aww… my neck hurts so bad today… I’m so sick of trying to get in to see any doctor that can help me… still not gonna let this stuff get me down though…



Sci Fi Love is Superior


I was rewatching the last few episodes of Battlestar Galactica and reflecting on the love stories in the series. I think they are some of the most powerful ones in all of film. “Someone to watch over me” was the last episode I watched. Starbuck is probably the greatest female character ever created. Sam, her lover, is in a coma, even though he can’t speak, can’t hear her, she still stays vigil over him. Interesting their love story: Starbuck going through so many confusing emotional times and he stayed with her even when she was confused and making mistakes. And her risking her life and disobeying orders to go back to earth to get him. And her not being able to stop thinking about him when she had to leave him behind.


Funny how they portray Starbuck and Lee being confused if they love each other, when they obviously risk everything for their real loves, not each other. Rewatching it it’s more like they are friends or siblings, eww but it’s true. Of course maybe I just don’t like Lee. Sam is dependable and always there for her unlike unrealiable Lee.


Then there are the stories of the people that find out the person they are in love with is a cylon, how they deal with that is fascinating. It touches on race and prejudices, in my opinion. God, like you can’t get any deeper in a love story than finding out your love is a machine, part of the enemy and loving them despite that. Cause love is really about SELF SACRIFICE, risking and sacrificing everything for another person.


I love Starbuck though, she shares a similar past with me. In fact it’s kind of painful to watch the back story episodes. Interesting that the further away you get from your past the more traumatic it is to think about. It’s like wow, I really lived through that bullshit?? Anyways it’s an interesting explanation for why she is so strong willed and determined. Β Hmm… and why people’s lame attempts at insults don’t bother her, like, “please sweetie I’ve been through hell you can’t even imagine.”


I’m so at fault

What was I thinking trying to be a fan

Someone liked me

Gosh such a crime

I so deserve to be part

Of this bullshit

I never asked for this

Such a crime to believe in a Liar

Yeah we all have feelings

Except me I guess

Why Cross lines

When you lied

God I’m such a bad girl

For trying to get closer to a fool

Funny thing is I have the power

I can turn you all off with a click

Or destroy you with loose lips

Keep giving me those receipts

So much time money energy

All for naught

All to prove

You will never love as deeply as I have

But my love is my own

It belongs to me

It can’t be stolen

I’ll give it to whomever I please


Dream Dragon

Grow, don’t change.
Stay alive, because
Even the pain is beautiful.
So hot and you have a heart
That’s breaking mine.
Your beauty is the air I breathe.
I want to shelter you but
Your so far away.
It hurts.
We meet in my dreams,
I wake up missing you..


American Girl


don’t intend to continue
yes for her
them that sleep
the army
that I am here
run for the day
evening wake up
we do not faint
rough I’m not
the people here
ruled they were
I right at the back
the billion pic
whats going to happen
the media on it
who happy in this time


the voices silenced
how do they feel
to share him
love confessed
her smile is all that’s seen,
it’s cracking,
down turned eyes
her revenge through jealousy,
fighting over remembered passion,
eyes on me,
eyes on her now,
fighting over flesh


Poems of Babble

lets start at the beginning
you I want to rip your clothes off
later haunting images of…
getting on
your hate causes whirlwinds
ignore ignore
you will always come back
and so will I
I never got a chance with her
spiritual awakening
from the past stirring my soul
spring still taunts me
desire for a love
only in my head
poems of babble
and commercial tales
what to decide love or hate
no continuity in sex
cut each others throats
and I still remember the dirtiness
can’t clean enough



Women Trained Like Slaves

We’ve been trained like slaves
to judge, rip apart.
I’m reading,
He said, did you enjoy it?
I said, I’m still searching.
WOW, you like those
bikini clad girls.
Sorry… no I’m not.
games, games,
shouldΒ I repeat?
He said, you think your the only one?
I said, you want me to compete…
with her, with them?
Oh, dont bother me anymore,
I’m about to explode.
I need to find myself,
your tearing me apart.


The Trend Mistress

oh what are you into
me too
im a leader
i disapear
and reapear for the fame
i get praise for manipulation
everything i do is liked
i dress obviously
so you cant attack me
i dont try hard
but i bleach my hair and
wear blue contacts
so im the best and smartest
i already have mastered
everything you are
im the trend mistress
i have a godzilla jaw
ill eat your genuineness
im the riot girl
all about the partying
i’m so empowered


I feel in love.

Just in general.

In love with everything.

Is it just because it’s summer?

I don’t know.

I’m in love with every cute musician I’ve ever been infatuated with.

All over again.

All at the same time.

God Am I a pervert?

Whats wrong with me?

I love everything and have faith in existence.

But at the same time,

I’mΒ disgusted with it all.

I rebel against society,

Not by choice,

Not cause it’s “cool”

But because I’ve never fit in

I’ve always been determined to be myself

That is why I’m a rebel

The world hates those that are free in mind, body and spirit.

That must be where the love comes from, Freedom.

There’s nothing left to lose so why not


Β Β Β Β Β  So, I got this word press email in the mail today about how to be a whore. Well, it was actually about how to mold your word press image and writing to get more comments. In other words how to be a whore. On one of their links they had this suggestion: “6. Write Well.Β  It’s often unsaid, but better posts get more traffic. There’s no sense in posting every day, if every post is boring or poorly written. It takes time to develop interesting ideas, and to edit posts to be concise and typo free. If people find a careless writer at work, they won’t be back. What good is more traffic if the content they see isn’t good enough for them to choose to return?” Fuck you Buddy! I’m usually not a rude a-hole, but really? Not write everyday? I’m sorry but me and Stephen King disagree. Stephen King stated in his book “On Writing” that a serious aspiring writer should read or write at least 4 hours a day, everyday. This forces you to be creative, and I know personally some of my best writing was in moments when I was forced to finish a paper. All writers find writing difficult and if you tell them don’t write because it might be bad, I think most serious creative writers would develop a neurosis and never put a word on paper. But this must be what they want, uncreative conformist people they can tell what to write. In other words, advertisements for big corporations. Money, Money, Money, that’s what its all about people. Creative people can’t be controlled and molded to be an advertisement for them. Truth is found in real art, not money and greed, and that truth often comes from unfiltered free writing that writers force out of themselves. Since true writing is actually channeling from some higher source of knowledge and the writer has little control of the outcome of their words. By the Way, Mr. Word Press Hired Writer, “isn’t” is not a word. I don’t think I’ve ever, EVER used that word in any of my writing. Where do they get these people?

UPDATE: When I posted this, the qoute Word Press gave me was this “The scariest moment is always just before you start.” Stephen King. In other words do not give in to that fear. The Word Pres Article is telling you to, but Stephen King says don’t give into that fear. Write and be fearless!!!

I will give all my money and loyalty to you, I am a good conformist. I will have multiple children fathered by a spouse that treats me like a slave, I will deny my unhappiness by reading romance novels, I buy at Jewel when I’m shopping for groceries. I will come home and watch TV. Then I will go out the next day to shop and I will buy all the products with the funniest commercials. I will watch sports. I will go to church once a week and give them my money. I will not question my preacher, I will blindly accept his dogma. I will idolize pop stars. I will never self analyze or reflect on my actions or thoughts. I live in the land of the free, where you either conform or be attacked for being an individual. Unless of course, you entertain us conformists them we will idolize you and copy everything about you. I will fear god, the devil and Santa Claus. After all they each give me great gifts. Money is all.


Billy Corgan Is In A Cult

Have you ever watched youtube videos of live Smashing Pumpkins in the Adore era? In the midst of watching the three remaining original band members and all their hotness, the camera pans over to the drummer…… and your mind says “what the fuck?” Who the hell does this crazy happy bald Billy want to be freak of nature think he is? I mean seriously, you can’t deny it, you know your mind goes there. Wait did I say the drummer, I meant out of the five or so that they had live, that friggen sports jacket coordinated orange sunglass wearing shiny baldheaded sweaty butt munch. That guy almost ruins the whole performance for me. I think Billy only picked him cause he wanted some bald company and probably some tips from the professional bald guy of how to keep is head shiny and squeaky clean. Seriously that guy must use Mr. Clean on his head as a polish. I saw this one youtube video of Billy joking that he didn’t want to be in “the fucking bald guy club.” But we all know the truth, he can’t hide it. The Bald Guy Club is a secret society like the free masons, dedicated to the preservation of respectable baldheaded representation and solicitation. He is obviously a prominent member who was initiated when he became a top selling artist… Billy was simply trying to pull a Neptune fast one on us, damn sneaky Pisces. I’m sure he has a gold plaque to commemorate his earning of highest initiation on his bedroom wall above his altar to almighty baldness. (Billy if your reading this I’m just joking, I know your sense of humor is sometimes lacking, I mean not to say you don’t have one, your awesome and everyone that is cool loves you, and It’s just that you know your opposing sun and ascendant make you a hard one to predict, then there’s all that Aries in you Mars and Venus, and Aries being in your eighth house, which must make you have an aggressive impulsive nature mixed with a revengeful nature, I mean damn astrology is revealing what was I talking about?) Anyways, that bald guy during the adore era was clearly a spy from The Bald Guy Club, who was keeping an eye on Billy. They were concerned that he had gone all Goth and sad and was going have a breakdown and reveal The Bald Guy Club secrets to the world. No wonder I don’t like that bald drummer freak. Do you know anybody that is bald? Go head ask them about The Bald Guy Club, and see if you can get any strait answers. They’ll just act like your crazy, but you know the truth now.

(Billy Willy Folklore: “They say if you mention Billy’s name in your blog 7 times he will tweet about your blog”) Oh crap, I only mentioned it 6 times.