18 September, 2007

sorrow. [no more]

the mood strikes
&everything seems more & more fucked up
closer to reality
or further away.
i have no authority whatsoever to distinguish between the two.

the world doesn't run on a merit system.
a good thing, the best thing has happened to me.
do i deserve it?
absolutely not.

before i even knew how to sin in any shape & form
stability unraveled from below me
quietly
i never even heard myself hit the bottom.

zoom back in.
a room.
locked door.
tearing at myself.
bloodshot eyes.
the.
clock.
ticked.
so.
loud.
i.
wanted.
to.
die.
it dawns on me now.
that the reason that happened is because i did do a lot of bad things.

&i continue to torture myself in their place.
[?!]

how many children are out tonight?
the possibilities tear at me like
car windows obliterating at 80 mph.

i dream about needles & smoke
&sad eyes in empty sockets
my eyes in my face.
crawling with swollen blood vessels.

if one can even call that dreaming at all.

the grotto.


tiny souls waver still
between the act of being alight
&exploding softly into smoke
stolen away by the night's gentle
inhale.
silent kept embraces:
the collecting flame of letting go
&holds it in careful hands
until you
a solitary bystander
takes it in to humble pores

something as universally
disfiguring as
mortality
takes on a candle's glow
while a worn & pale virgin
[shrouded, yet unignored]
weeps upon torn enwspaper
faded ink
&dried flower rosaries

04 September, 2007

line 01. [animation]


[incomplete37/60 frames]

not satisfied...
but am i ever?

despite this...
i feel rather bright today.


03 September, 2007

tweak.



'they say
this is the city
the city of angels
all i see are dead wings'
[-thedistillers]