| (no subject) |
[Jul. 11th, 2006|11:29 pm] |
i must not make good music.
no one says much
pretty bored
speed would be nice
im glad i dont feel love anymore
muh friends is gettin to hurt over it
syd died, that was a drag to hear |
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| (no subject) |
[Mar. 19th, 2006|01:20 am] |
they kissed satans blood red orangish lips
sold their covertable for 2 pieces of plaid
now they confuse coffee with lumps of lepracy
and stationary with woman they call "Dad"
Whats a computer? |
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| (no subject) |
[Oct. 3rd, 2005|04:20 pm] |
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is this really feeling sorry for myself? |
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| (no subject) |
[Sep. 19th, 2005|11:52 pm] |
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i h ate tha t iha v e tobe m ea n toha v e he rli keme. i r eal l ydont li kebein g mean toher an d i d ontkn o w whys he l i kes it.i ts r eall yh ardfo r meto d o th is an y mo re. ifhe's mo ving,im m ovin g . alli re ally h a ve is yougu ys r ig htnow. th e2 ofy ougot m e out tat hatmo odf a st. ikn ow soo n t hi sw on tbe sop ai nful.i w i sh ih ad so m eone to t a lk towho w ou ldnt thinki wa sf eeli ngsor ryformys elf. |
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| (no subject) |
[Sep. 8th, 2005|09:03 am] |
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last nite i looked on myspace to see what people from my home town looked like. i wasnt expecting many to show up. i think 12 people showed up. i clicked on a few and i noticed that everyone of them says something about hating there town and themselves. it was strange. whats even more strange is that they all relativley listened to the same music as i did and liked the same movies i did. |
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| (no subject) |
[Sep. 1st, 2005|11:49 am] |
| [ | music |
| | Pavement - Heaven Is A Truck | ] |
im not sure why i keep updating this. i dont think anyone reads it anymore. uh...whats happening with me...im being plagued with horrible dreams, or nitemares. whatever. where i wake up scared as shit. uh, recording with art vandalay. new strange sounding songs. im kinda confused with what emotion im supposed to have. i cant tell. its hard. very corrupting. scrapping the station to station cd. no one wants to listen to confusion. everyone wants to danc(z)e! i need to cut the cheezy-ness out of my life. the sorry for myself jive, but right now, its the only feeling i can understand without being confused. |
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| (no subject) |
[Aug. 19th, 2005|11:01 am] |
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happy birthday joe, yr 21. |
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| (no subject) |
[Aug. 12th, 2005|09:24 pm] |
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i really hope everythings gonna be ok. i really really hope so. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jul. 6th, 2005|08:37 pm] |
Go back to those gold soundz
And keep my advent to your self
Because it’s nothing I don’t like
Is it a crisis or a boring change?
When it’s central, so essential,
It has a nice ring when you laugh
At the low life opinions
And they’re coming to the chorus now...
I keep your address to myself ’cause we need secrets
We need secrets crets crets crets crets crets back right now
Because I never wanna make you feel
That you’re social
Never ignorant soul
Believe in what you wanna do
And do you think that is a major flaw
When they rise up in the falling rain
And if you stay around with your knuckles ground down
The trial’s over, weapon’s found
Keep my address to myself because it’s secret
Cuz it’s secret cret cret cret [etc.]... back right now
So drunk in the august sun
And you’re the kind of girl I like
Because you’re empty and I’m empty
And you can never quarantine the past
Did you remember in december
That I won’’t eat you when I’m gone
And if I go there, I won’t stay there
Because I’m sitting here too long
I’ve been sitting here too long
And I’ve been wasted
Advocating that word for the last word
Last words come up all you’ve got to waste |
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| Nick The Stripper |
[Jun. 28th, 2005|06:25 pm] |
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im gonna say the birthday party is my favorite band and wait a couple months and see how many people come up to me and say they like them or have them listed on there "Myspace" accounts. |
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| (no subject) |
[May. 24th, 2005|12:35 am] |
Last night you and I we gathered berries with a flashlight
Wide-eyed journeyed into scriptures giving me the insight
All of the persons to be breeded never had a skateboard
Or even a red light
We are needles in the karma greedy with the insight
Now we're hiding in your bedroom listening for dark spots
(Really really loud)
Little little crippled devil everybody makes of of him when he's in The stop light
Kool-aid you can stop pretending accidental washing always play
Your face to the right
fast tricks tripping down a kayak sequence into the fast night,
One more time,
You are poor |
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| (no subject) |
[May. 9th, 2005|01:37 pm] |
you all really bore the shit outta me with yr entries.
love,
joe |
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| (no subject) |
[Apr. 14th, 2005|10:38 pm] |
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14 days ive been sleeping in a barn, headache and a paychek tattooed on my arm. |
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| (no subject) |
[Apr. 10th, 2005|01:31 pm] |
I just got put down in the ashes of a backwash town
Black debris or burned-out trees blows out over the sunken seas
Somewhere far along, singing a regular song
Dead machines, frozen dreams, this state where I belong
I'm loose inside my skin and all the walls are wearing thin
Shoot out all the traffic lights on your way to the dead of night
Somewhere far along, singing a regular song
Dead machines, frozen dreams, they don't bother me at all
You're better off alone, troubles find their own... |
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| (no subject) |
[Apr. 6th, 2005|06:47 pm] |
When we get down to the shrink-wrap on my grave
You know the nitty-gritty never looked so safe
You get whiplash under the bridge
Like a cold-ass lover with the buckskin
Get the squeegee and it's easy to be me
Clean my boots and I'm still feelin' homeless
Your brother is deader than a phone machine
With a bucket of green piss
And I'm tryin' not to look at Satan making love to a dishrag
So load up the gimmick wagon, get out of town
Do me a favor, don't stick around
'Cause my kneecaps are turnin' slightly brown
Let's be doin' it right
Comin' down in a cold ass fashion
And the people don't breathe
Comin' down in a cold ass fashion
Steppin' in the beefsteak
Comin' down in a cold ass fashion
And the mayonnaise comes
Comin' down in a cold ass fashion
Black Twinkie
Gettin' all caught up in a taste test
And it all basically tastes like crap
I can shake my own hand, give myself a grin
I can pick my own nose and put it back in
I can squeeze the breeze, drink a bottle of lice
Smoke a pack of whiskey with Jesus Christ
I got options, I got cop shows, I get nauseous
And the sweat is Day-Glo
Went to sleep, woke up in a coffin
Took out my eyeballs and put 'em in a condom
Your daddy's got laxatives on his brain
Gettin' savvy in the back of a train
Mojo weedwhacker cuttin' space
Hot dogs rottin' in the bottom of the suitcase
And your mouth, it smells like hair gel
I love you but you don't know how to spell
Where can you duck when they shoot you full of pigeon holes?
And there ain't nothin' like the real artificial, O.G.
Original glue sniffer
Comin' down in a cold ass fashion
And the people don't breathe
Comin' down in a cold ass fashion
And she buttered my sandwich
Comin' down in a cold ass fashion
Smeared with sauce
Comin' down in a cold ass fashion
Didn't we eat a donut?
Uh, wait, Talkin' about a cold ass fashion
Talkin' about a cold ass fashion
Cold ass fashion. Cold ass fashion. Squeegee.
It's like forty pounds of avacado sauce
Smeared across your boss
Y'know what I'm sayin'?
You don't know when it's comin'
Y'know what I'm sayin', it's like 45 horses runnin' through the graveyard
In yellow panties
That is cold
Fashion |
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| (no subject) |
[Apr. 1st, 2005|09:39 pm] |
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a good friend...no, a brother died this morning and yr the only one who knows. |
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| (no subject) |
[Mar. 24th, 2005|09:14 pm] |
Monkey see, monkey die
Laminate your face and paste it up into the sky
'Cause it's squalid and it's solid
And it's completely rancid and beautiful
Like a forcefield of multiplying meat
Cut a hole in the floor to see
Just how close to hell we're standing
Time shoots forward in your skull
Scattered to the four winds, chucked in the bucket
Riding lampost, moldy toast, excitement level: zero
Rock the casbah, bring the noise
Amplified dishwashers exploring the boring to the core
People with cordless personalities
Running around in new wave bionic jogging suits
California white boy sound
Rocket-powered and nailed to the ground
New age, old age, totally lame
Straight to the middle of the road
Rewind the tape, play the whole thing backwards
With the sound completely turned off |
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papertiger1984's journal
