|
|
Monday, October 20th, 2008
|
|
|
thought i'd post some new lyrics i wrote:
I have this anger pumping through my veins and it burns like fucking fire. Everything you say stokes it, burn in this inferno. Glazed eyes and dry mouths. No rhyme or reason. I’ll beat my head against this desk til my hate spills out all over this piece of paper.
So sick of hearing that you’re so sick and tired. So sick of hearing you’re so right and we’re so fucking wrong. Alienating those who are on your side. Claiming you’re everything we’re not; what a fucking joke. Look in the mirror: does your own posturing make you sick? You hate what you are. Pat each other on the back because you really “showed us.” It’s pathetic that you feed yourself homemade bullshit. Go choke on your embellished self worth. You’re not a part of anything? That’s wrong. You’re a part of the problem.
I’ll cough up mud and piss to rain on your parade, shove my middle finger in your face to make you question what you’ve made. I’ve grown tired of these gridlocked fucking minds; stuck in their own conditions, what a fucking shame. If I could just stop all time and make you question yourself, you would still probably give me a blank stare. No integrity. No point. No mercy. No remorse. I’ll stick your face in the mud and make you question what you’ve done.
|
|
Wednesday, September 10th, 2008
|
|
Friday, September 5th, 2008
|
|
|
ever since i moved in, my days blur together. what did i do on tuesday? whatever it was, i might as well of done it yesterday because i can barely remember that. each day is the same fucking bore and i see the same stupid faces every day. everyone asks the same question over and over again: "wanna get something to eat?"
john doesn't clean up after himself and since i'm such a little bitch i clean up his shit and never say a word about it. other than that, we're cool though. he helped me with my science homework yesterday.
my RA is a fucking bitch and i never do anything she asks of me and shes always knocking on my door telling me to do it and i always just say, "yeah, i'll get to that." i never do.
everyone just talks about beer pong and "throwing down" money for alcohol. everyone is always drunk and stupid and trying so hard to posture for everyone else. "lets go to so and so's dorm and get drunk." since all my friends here just do that, i always go along because i'd rather pretend to have fun out then sitting in my room watching futurama or something.
every single person i see on the street just makes me fucking fume. they are all wastes of flesh. each bro i see just makes me want to snap on the next one i see. each girl i see in her fucking short shorts, platinum blonde hair and tube top talking about getting tested for STDs just makes me want to drop kick the next one i see. i fucking hate everyone. they're either nondescript people with nothing special going for them or just complete fucking assholes.
i am so glad i have my own fucking room with a view of the mountains. if i didn't have that, i'd go fucking insane.
|
|
Thursday, July 17th, 2008
|
|
|
"Hate, a very powerful and destructive emotion, seemingly lies within us all and periodically surfaces to reveal an inner ugliness that may be inherent in all human beings. Prejudice, whether based on religion, race, nationality, sex, age, etc., serves as an incubator for hate a subsequently causes and great amount of emotional and physical damage in the world. However, hate can be used to combat the evils of oppression and prejudice in all it's forms. Hatred can be a catalyst, used to spark some sort of action by individuals to promote peace and equality in a culture so vehemently opposed to them. Hate comes easy for oppressors, but when pushed too far, hate comes easy for the oppressed."
"I hate drugs. I hate alcohol. I hate cigarettes. I hate the users, and I hate the manufacturers. Consume it, never stop, never think, never disengage, just consume, consume, decay, and fry. Buy, buy, buy, and buy their enslavement. They profit from addiction, decay, and death, while you glady lap it up as ou fuel their network with your time, energy, money, and lives. Cloud your vision, waste your time, support the system, surrender your independence. Burn, god dammit, burn. Go right ahead. Smoke the blood of a hundred thousand dead... drink the blood of dead Colombian judges, consume the lives of addicted dealers, shoot the souls of massacred Panamanians into your arm... your pleasure is crafted from the flesh of a million dead Central Americans. The dead in Argentina, Brazil, Hawaii, Mexico, Colombia, Bolivia, Pakistan, Chile, India, Honduras, Peru, Burma, Haiti, Thailand, Panama, inner city America, and hometown anywhere remain as vestiges of your lifestyle. They want to eat, they want to live, you want to fly, fry, and flare. Murder is your drug. Indulge yourselves in their graves. Have no conscious, have no feelings, fix, fix, fix, appease your fix for fun... Their blood is not on your hands: it is in your lungs, in your stomach, in your brain, and it pulses through your decadent veins. There's a place in hell for you."
both of these writings are from, in my opinion, one of the most important 7"s in all of hardcore, the self titled downcast 7". these writings speak to me both very much.
hatred fuels life and my hatred will tear you down.
fuck you and your "habits."
|
|
|
i am no longer an english major.
i am now a film and video production major, emphasis on direction and screen writing.
what the fuck am i doing?
|
|
|
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
amiddlecourse's journal