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Time:01:02 am
A love unshared
A miracle unnoticed
An open wound.
Biting words.

Paid vacations to faraway places.
A headstone in a shopping mall;
Long sleeves to hide your stars,
Denying sweet blood to a desolate heart.
A slave to no one,
But a slave nonetheless.

Wishing and hoping
With no Action.
A plan not enacted;
A fire with no escape.
A casual acquaintence
A massive heart attack
Tells you who to blame.
A diseased rodent
In a stone tower
Awaiting his execution
For a crime not committed.

Cheapened by catch phrases;
Buzzword epitaphs.
Undefiable by definition,
Sprouting arms and legs,
Leaving you behind.
A life unsaved for a flock untended.
Thinking this, but saying that;
Choosing security over happiness.
Soul-shattering ambiguity;
Unneccessary roughness.

An abundance of misunderstanding
leaves you alone in glass castles;
Imperfections exposed,
Hating the world for all the wrong reasons.
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Subject:going live
Time:11:19 pm
i've decided to share with you all a selection from my "gay journal". I know, I know. Only fags keep journals.

"...Of course there's a girl.

.............there's always a girl.

Sure, she's the worst of my problems from the past six months, but her treating me like shit now can't be the solitary source of my ever-present anguish. I know there's something else, but I can't put my finger on it.
For me, she's the one who got away.
For her, I'm just another ex-boyfriend...
But I don't want to look back on the "best years of my life" and read about some chick who broke my heart. I need a distraction.

Like a rooster, sitting on a park bench, cock-a-doodle-doo-ing like a crackhead off a hit. or... like... a rooster...

I guess while I'm at it, I might as well write about the park. I've recently discovered that Piedmont Park is cool as shit if you're looking for a place to sit and think about stuff. For instance, right now, there's these two old, fat, black ladies in motorized wheelchairs, scootin' down the sidewalk, laughing like old, fat, black ladies do. They're talking about, "Back when I used to.." That's all I could hear as they passed me by. After all, that god damned rooster is at it again.

Only now, the rooster is in some bushes hootin' and hollerin'. A big black dude took the rooster's bench, and he's eating a sandwich. From this distance, I can't quite tell what kind.

Let's see....

There's two gay guys walking down the path approaching my bench. The one in the mesh tank top is holding pink flowers. The precarious manner in which he swings them indicates that they are fake.

Whoa, there's a cardinal. It's making lots of noise. Shut up, cardinal.

A crackhead is walking down the path now, tailing the silk-pansy-swinging pansy by a few hundred yards, with his blue baseball cap on his head, over his du-rag. His filthy wife-beater. His ratty atheletic pants. Now he's talking to the sandwich guy.

Now the rooster is directly in front of me. I could kick the shit out of him at a whim, but I wouldn't dare. He's just roosterin' around, bobblin' his head. He's scrounging for food, picking up the abandoned birdseed that some lonely old lady must've left behind when she was sitting here, thinking about her late husband, and how stale their love life had become before he died.

The sound of palms slapping turns my attention to the crackhead and the sandwich guy. You know, the one who took the rooster's bench? He's crumpling up his sandwich wrapper, and putting it in the bag on the ground between his feet. The du-ragged crackhead turned and walked back from whence he came. The bench-stealing sandwich guy picks up his bag and walks to the trash can that lies directly between us. As he tosses the paper bag into the trash can, I can finally make out a logo.


KFC.


I spoke to the bird, and wished him well.
He replied with a "bru-gaw".

He understands my pain. He knows what it means to have loved and lost."
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Subject:Photobucket
Time:09:28 pm
This is a test post from Photobucket.com
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Current Music:Suburban Home
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Time:03:02 am

I want to be stereotyped.
I want to be classified.
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Time:01:49 am
hey guys. I cant sleep so i type.

if you havent seen me recently, i've been really busy.

Also, i've developed a severe addiction to CSI and the Shrek 2 video game.

Thats all for now.
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Subject:Peta = fucking assholes
Time:02:12 am
Current Mood:pissed offpissed off

Fuck Peta.

Fuck Ingrid Newkirk.

Fuck Hypocrisy.

 

 http://www.consumerfreedom.com/article_detail.cfm/article/154

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Subject:kitty!!!!
Time:01:01 am
litter boxes are gross. they smell like poo.
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Time:01:26 am

Who's been commenting in your journal?


1 krapalapathy 27 comments 34.18% of total
2 crownofoblivion 24 comments 30.38% of total
3 fancypantry 8 comments 10.13% of total
4 lesserleigh 8 comments 10.13% of total
5 Anonymous 5 comments 6.33% of total
6 krapalapa 5 comments 6.33% of total
7 forkstaple 1 comments 1.27% of total
8 heychristopher 1 comments 1.27% of total

These statistics were generated using the LJ Stats Web Interface by mpnolan. Original idea from scrapdog's LJ Comment Stats Wizard.
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Time:03:18 am
Current Mood:indescribable
its like 20 minutes after 3am, and the phone just rang a little while ago.

my grandfather just died.

he was 92 years old.

my father is crying. i've never seen him cry before.

i feel bad.
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Subject:october
Time:02:33 am
fuck yeah...
10/14 - pixies
10/15 - beasties

two best fucking nights of my life back to back.

dont act like you dont want to be there.
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[icon] Skanks are skanky.
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