| miss my friends |
[Sep. 6th, 2007|09:41 pm] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | grateful dead | ] |
wow.
this is a phenomenal feeling.
I just relived some years that were way gone and totally forgotten. Livejournal is incredible. It holds memories longer than any mind/notebook or any piece of shit. I should do this every day. I would have a good collection of my fucked up life. Hope no one ever reads this, otherwise you'll all see how really fucked up i am.
Love,
Justin |
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| i'll start with the babies. |
[Jan. 10th, 2005|09:53 pm] |
There was a mellow stream flowing through a mob of foliage down a small hill that past the small base. Alone in the shack of a building, stood two radio recievers, two talkies, a small leaning table with stacks of reports and a chair. On the first radio reciever; which covered from here to a 25 mile radius area of overpowering foliage, there was a buzz... "come in"........"justin here"......... |
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| (no subject) |
[Dec. 23rd, 2004|10:27 pm] |
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i'm losing my wings feather by feather |
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| (no subject) |
[Nov. 7th, 2004|06:50 pm] |
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goodbye friends, yes i know it's a little late |
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| (no subject) |
[Nov. 6th, 2004|08:15 pm] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | pavement-haunt you down | ] |
was it a distant voice that made me make the choice that i have to get the fuck out of this town |
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| (no subject) |
[Oct. 25th, 2004|01:02 pm] |
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if you had to choose a color that reflects my personality, what would it be and why? and if you choose green, don't say "you're a pothead" |
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| (no subject) |
[Oct. 18th, 2004|08:41 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  blank | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | smog | ] |
justin's back in town... stick that in your craw check me out i'm loved so well
monthly highlights
boulder month ago-good
haven't talked to the person i visited since i got back..missed her birthday.. blah
school started.... grades coming out soon...blah
went to mass for a week... good.. forgot to say goodbye...it's okay now
saw the violent femmes..bad ass
saw built to spill a while ago...bad ass
saw my brother...bad ass
saw my brother in detroit... bad ass
film festival in a week or so..hopefully cool
i heard this cd that was pretty good and i want to get it
i think i'm moving in may... no no.. i know i'm moving in may. who wants to come with me?
sounds good
hey, age 16 i was kidnapped by turkish pirates mediterranian thugs, after some torture they considered me their mascot
i want to see your scary smile, i love your certain lovely style, when you when you are laughing at me, it makes me want to stay for a while, it makes me want to stay for a while, their bright, their white for miles and miles, your lips your teeth are made from clay, when i can see them i want to stay for just one more day, ladies and gentlement, step forward for the dream of the century
look boy on watery clay, relationships hey hey hey, you kiss like a rock but you know i need it anyway, boulder, co
don't blame me bring on the major leagues
bring on the major leagues
her fuckin body broke my eyes, and she said, i'm gonna love the hell outta you.
i fixed the preakness in the rain, i had a weakness for cocaine and she said, i learned double entry book keeping when i was twelve years old, i heard there was no imagination in the blues, they registered my name with the catholic hall of fame, and she said, i'm gonna love the hell outta you
take me out of this dead end nightmare, take me out of this hell i'm in, take me out of this dead end nightmare, put me back in a world i can live put me back in a world i can live.
see you next month or year
much love
justin |
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| strangulation |
[Aug. 30th, 2004|10:32 pm] |
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the green grass and the yellow hand grenade combine to make a beautiful orange hangnail fall into a deep sea of miraculous scarlet envelopes of blue papers and empty trash barrels burning music at dawn being strangled with hands of terrifying originality that were cleansed with jesus' blood while the nazis marched through poland in the middle of an unforgettable winter while my snot was freezing to my upper lip in the bitter cold of antarctica and the submarine was crashing through the Ice while hte Africanos were singing their songs of praise to the heavens above and the brazillians were being brutalized by the police force and the russian's were robbing tourists and the czechs were sitting in their pizza lounges and the american tourists were forcing my friend to downa beer at 12 years old and the aquafresh jelly beans were being spilled on the floor of a just recently waxed floor as an old woman took her denchers out and placed them in an empty cup of water that was bought from a middle eastern merchant in paris while the french were making their fries and toast and the italians were chopping tomatoes and basil and garlic into a saucepan filled with maggots from the horseflies of south america that the priest brought along with his wafers and wine as the pentecostal tongues eagerly awaited their communion from a married father who had been divorced twice doomed to hell three times and thrown in prison once for malesting an older jewish woman who swore the christian's killed jesus not the jews while romulus and remus fought and the remuns overpowered the romans while i was sitting in my bathroom shooting up with an orange needle and a black belt that was used to beat the living shit out of a brown dog that was dying of old age and filled with scabs some called skin disease but we knew it was old age and my friend heard from his mother's brother in law that the firemen of dove creek were all one family and no one outside of the family could be a fireman but the police force didn't know each other and the gardener said that if i wanted to win i'd have to die twice in the end i ain't no runt come on girl, give me your , but as my father said death is the easy way and the paper burned to ashes and the neon sign glistened in the now dead street saying "closed until further notice" i sat on the curb of a liquor store and drank myself into oblivion while the woman across the way was robbed of everything but her nylon stockings and the homeless man two blocks down got a bat to the face as the cop thought he was the one to break into the store while the girl was being raped but no one cared in the end i walked home and blew twenty grams and rest in my bed where i now lie listening to the pounding of the rain on my window and there's a rapping at my chamber door of a raven? |
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| (no subject) |
[Aug. 12th, 2004|11:32 pm] |
sinking leap of faith
they say it is a “leap of faith”
to soak religion and god and jesus
into your life.
And the congregation does rise,
but it doesn’t leap.
No one ever leaps.
Instead it sinks, with folded hands,
into well cushioned seats
to pray some more
and to get communion down
and to listen to the drone of a preacher whose words never leap
and never really sink in either
A “leap of faith” is the act of believing in something incapable of being proven. Leap of faith gives the mental image of someone getting up and shouting, screaming, jumping in heaps of excitement. However, a leap of faith is not a leap at all; it does not include any physical activity whatsoever. It is considered a leap of faith to get up every Sunday morning and go to church and soak in religion.
The author’s imagery gives the speaker a cynical view towards religion. Religion could be considered a leap of faith itself; therefore the speaker is mocking both religion and the saying “leap of faith.” In the lines “And the congregation does rise, but it doesn’t leap. No one ever leaps,” the author gives an image of churchgoers rising to say a prayer or whatever else they stand up for in church. The author is saying that people do not transcend into a spiritual nirvana while praying and listening to sermons. They return to their seats and poorly act the part.
The first two words of the poem make ambiguous accusations of whom “they” are. It is possible that the speaker is referring to the people who go to church. It’s more likely that he is talking about people who claim to have had a “leap of faith.” Or it is possible that he is speaking generally and includes both parties. The opening lines imply that the speaker does not believe what “they” say, so from the beginning there is a skeptical view towards religion.
“Instead it sinks, with folded hands, into well-cushioned seats.” These lines suggest that instead of partaking in the leap of faith, they are sinking into the comfort of the seats. The poem may not be referring to literal seats, but instead people’s idleness, possibly implying that the churchgoers are overweight. “To pray some more and to get communion down.” This line could be interpreted several different ways. It may mean that the bread is hard to swallow, or also that religion itself is hard to swallow and these people pray more to not choke on religion.
The last two lines bring the speaker’s mockery to its climax. The preacher delivers his sermon to the people in a monotonous voice. The boring voice fails to enlighten the congregation. The preacher’s words are meaningless to the parishioners for they are unresponsive. Is it the preacher’s voice that is unmoving? Or is it the sermon he delivers? Or is it the impassive audience? Or is it the Bible that leaves humans pokerfaced? Perhaps the parishioners are hypocrites uninterested in God’s word. Perhaps the preacher is also a hypocrite.
The poem is very ambiguous and open to many interpretations. The author does this on purpose to give the poem many different meanings, yet the speaker’s attitude is persistent throughout each interpretation. The speaker provides no spiritual answers just criticism. |
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| (no subject) |
[Aug. 9th, 2004|03:30 pm] |
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change out of your friends, the bus is at the end of the line, it happened again, i'm gonna ride it one more time, just can't sit around and cry, but if you look, you can find there's so many ways around it, you don't have to go, and all i have to say is nothing when you look at it, but can it get you, to stop |
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| (no subject) |
[Aug. 9th, 2004|01:03 am] |
so.. i was sitting at in n out burger at about, an hour ago, and there was this pretty attractive young lady there as well eating inside, and i was just sitting outside with trav, and they walked by or something, came outside for two seconds, and went back inside and got more food, than brought it outside to eat it, and this one chick was totally wanting it because she just looked too long, and i could tell, and so i went over there, and i was like
"excuse me miss, do you have a boyfriend?"
"umm yeah why?"
"well, i'll make sure not to waste your time. My names justin"
"my names sasha"
"well if you don't mind i'd like to give you my number"
"yeah that's fine"
so i gave it to her, and the bitch just called me, and was like "oh i want you" |
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| (no subject) |
[Aug. 8th, 2004|03:50 pm] |
He sat in front of me in math class. The result. I would go home at night and think about fucking him. I would get my yearbook, find the picture of him at the beach and i would fuck him. It was only after i came that i could sit down and begin to write love letters. at first i could only write about socialism. I focused the letters on my enemeies. my labido was like a shop vac. in class we were learning about the average gross income of a member in a Bangladesh household when stacy the yearbook photographer snatched a drawing i was making of him. She threatened to tell the principal about my obssession if i didn't fuck her. we waited until lunch break to make a treck to the elementary school playground. we passed sand castles and slides on our way to the big tires. the tires were donated by the local monster truck chapter. "Remember when we used to play house in these tires?" she asked while kicking dirt and looking at her toes. "I never played house, we played incans and spanish conquistadores" i motioned a bow and arrow. she was wearing an oversized walt disney t-shirt with goofy on it and a pair of pink wranglers. I had never thought about fucking a girl until i noticed the outline of her vagina as she climbed over the tire. Inside the tire it was wet and dark. there was a pool at the bottom of the tire. She told me that it was against gods will to think about fucking boys. She said that god would love me again if i slapped her. She grabbed onto my cock and said in her best john wayne impression "how do you wanna ride pilgrim?" she grabbed my head and shoved it into the muck on the bottom of the tire and began to play with my asshole. She farted. "how does it fell you little faggot" she began to plash in the puddle like a man overboard. i turned around onto my back. she moved over to the opposite side of the tire. her legs were spinning like the wings of a lawn flamingo. stacy was smoking meth. i was looking at the roof of the tire and began to count the pieces of gum left from ages of universal expansion. i counted 412 pieces of gum that day. Stacy was getting real high. I was trying to figure out what the gum represented. some of teh pices looked like clouds trying too hard to look like clouds. she began to take off her pants. "if you could choose three words to describe youself which would they be?" i was stumped "uh... i guess.... creative... and funny.... and uh caring maybe." "and if you could change one thing about yourself what would it be?" "i would have scored higher in math on my SATS" she winked "in ancient greek teh word for princess is s-t-a-c-y" i helped myself to a piece of red gum from the roof of the tire, at that moment i couldn't stop chewing. "don't you want to" we were putting our hands on one anothers state borders stopping only to shoot state welcome signs. our state's motto was "the land of teen angst" i thought of him when i came on her. she was trying to touch her back with her head. it was creating a vaccuous space where her lips had been. i thought of her dead when i came on her neck. i guess it was stacy who gave me the confidence to write love letters. i penned my first suggestive one to him when i got home from school. I wrote mostly about my forbiddon desires to lvoe him. i told him how i wwould always be there for him and that i knew his family wasn't very supportive and that i would be there to cheer at his track meets and that i would give him a ride home from the dentist office when he has his wisdom teeth pulled. i drew him silly pictures of us doing things together like shopping for plants and taking vacations in tropical rain forests discovering ancient temples and awakening evil vampire spirits that we must outwit and destroy in order to save mankind from a future of a docalyptic slavery. i folded my note into an oragami atom bomb and left it on jake's desk before math class started. our class was divided into groups to work through our homework, i was put in a group with jake, suzy, and john. suzy was playing with jakes hair while john was calling me a faggot and copying my homework. i was reading my book when john brushed suzy's fingers away from his face "have you ever read catcher in the rye?" surprised and aroused "yeah"
"it's good huh?"
with my cock showing "yeah"
i was in love. on the way home i sat alone on the bus so i could play with myself. When we got to my stop i ran down the aisle and straight home past my neighbors yard full of brokedown cards and through my kitchen right past my mother in a bunny costume reading the bible to my little sisters. i stormed into my room and began to whack off. and i came, i came all over my carpet. i laid on the floor playing with the cum as though it was in jake’s hair, i laid on the floor all night long looking at the ceiling, i missed dinner and everybody was still awake when i heard the phone right. i answered it quickly because i didn’t want to wake my sisters.
“hello”
“uh.. hello, is steve there?”
“yeah this is him, may i ask whos calling please?”
“yeah uh.. this is jake from math class”
“oh jake hey wahts’ up?’
“i was just wondering if you had the problems we are supposed to do for math homework”
“yeah one sec”
“wait steve?”
“yeah”
“hey.. i just wanted to know if.. when you masturbate.. do you think about guys?”
we were transported to the year 1832 the year before the invention of the telegraph, there was a distance of 3000 miles between us, and all that could be heard was silence.
“steve, i know your oragami, and your drawings, i see them in class, i just want to know what you think about?”
“i think about you fucking me, but quietly. because we can’t wake up the kids, because it’s a school night”
the telegraph still hadn’t been invented
“steve, i don’t think about boys.”
what he said made me want to be a hollister wearing girl who was true to the atkins diet.
“thank you for the letter, it means a lot, i just wanted you to know that, steve, i would like to be your friend, if you dont want to i understand, but we can never be lovers.”
the horse and the rider with my reply had been abducted by 21st century zoo keepers.
“just think about it, and write another note if you have to.”
the end. |
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| (no subject) |
[Aug. 8th, 2004|12:43 pm] |
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it started to snow on christmas eve in the middle of the night |
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| (no subject) |
[Aug. 8th, 2004|12:43 pm] |
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there wasn't any snow on christmas eve |
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| (no subject) |
[Aug. 8th, 2004|01:33 am] |
tell them how we did it on the beach with the fireworks
on the railroad tracks with the gravel in your back
in the bathroom of a crowded bar
and in the very graveyard where my body now rests
oh dress sexy at my funeral my good wife
dress sexy at my funeral my good wife
for the first time in your life |
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| (no subject) |
[Aug. 8th, 2004|01:32 am] |
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and i'm gonna be hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigggghh as a kite by then |
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| (no subject) |
[Aug. 5th, 2004|10:53 pm] |
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i'm going to boulder wheeeee |
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| (no subject) |
[Jul. 30th, 2004|02:15 pm] |
when i was younger i was scared of going to the circuis
the clowns would scare me and while i was growing up
i learned that it's just a fucking dumbass dressed up in white pant and make up
so i was like fuck these clowns
i'm riding on the elephant
i'm riding on the elephant
elephant
oh i was young, i was scared of clowns
now i know they are cunt rags in women's gowns
i hate when they give me balloons
why can't they harrass theresa the babboon
i'm riding on the elephant
oh now i'm riding on the elephant
elephants have huge wangs just like black guys
i'm riding on the black guy
black guy
i'm riding on the black guy
black guy
i'm riding on the elephant |
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