follow, gotta wait 48 hours for adsense to verify and what not.
keep it in the circle.
and keep it classy.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Life's A Bitch, and Then You Die
it's true you know.
life is a bitch. and then your life ends.
fuck your family, fuck your friends.
it doesn't matter what you say.
it doesn't matter what you do.
everyone has their own agenda.
everyone is too busy with their life.
"But what about Mother Theresa?"
fuck her. yeah i said it fuck her.
so she helped millions of people. big fucking deal.
what'd she get? Recognition in some big award thing.
BFD. It's not like she earned salvation from god or any shit.
She was awarded some shit and she might be turned into a saint. SO WHAT.
she's fucking dead and she won't see her own martyrdom.
Life is just a bunch of bullcrap that you go through, and then you're taken away from Earth.
It's like a trial version of some product that you have to pay the price for later on.
People are gonna cry when you die, but why?
That thought has really been running through my mind lately.
Maybe your family will mourn, and your few close friends, but so what.
It's just a body you take over, and then you're released from it by this so called "God,"
Who is supposed to offer guidance and answer prayers and all this other meaningless shit.
Honestly, i say "Oh My God" and "Goddamit," and some people would go "Don't say God's name in VAIN!
And i go fuck that. Have you ever SEEN GOD right in front of your fucking optic receptors?
NO. you've just seen pictures and paintings and stain glass windows of him.
Sure, some say he WAS real, but in reality you don't have fucking proof that he was real.
i'm too tired and depressed to keep going. fuck this, let's be manatees.
life is a bitch. and then your life ends.
fuck your family, fuck your friends.
it doesn't matter what you say.
it doesn't matter what you do.
everyone has their own agenda.
everyone is too busy with their life.
"But what about Mother Theresa?"
fuck her. yeah i said it fuck her.
so she helped millions of people. big fucking deal.
what'd she get? Recognition in some big award thing.
BFD. It's not like she earned salvation from god or any shit.
She was awarded some shit and she might be turned into a saint. SO WHAT.
she's fucking dead and she won't see her own martyrdom.
Life is just a bunch of bullcrap that you go through, and then you're taken away from Earth.
It's like a trial version of some product that you have to pay the price for later on.
People are gonna cry when you die, but why?
That thought has really been running through my mind lately.
Maybe your family will mourn, and your few close friends, but so what.
It's just a body you take over, and then you're released from it by this so called "God,"
Who is supposed to offer guidance and answer prayers and all this other meaningless shit.
Honestly, i say "Oh My God" and "Goddamit," and some people would go "Don't say God's name in VAIN!
And i go fuck that. Have you ever SEEN GOD right in front of your fucking optic receptors?
NO. you've just seen pictures and paintings and stain glass windows of him.
Sure, some say he WAS real, but in reality you don't have fucking proof that he was real.
i'm too tired and depressed to keep going. fuck this, let's be manatees.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Recap:11/15
today=
wake up at 9
eat.
homework.
air car.
skatepark with tanner and serra kids.
gummy worms.
peanutbutter sandwhiches.
writing a new poem.
don't know why. but i feel depressed.
that thought is creeping back into my head again.
im sorry pantea, but it just does.
there's so much shit going on right now.
i just can't balance it all.
geometry test/air car project/and her.
she just adds to the drama and shit going on in my life.
but she isn't drama or shit. she's beautiful and pretty
and i'm just not worth her time.
it's 9/55 on 11/15, and as i'm writing this, im wearing a black beanie.
somewhere, in san francisco, someone's dying on the streets
from flu, or a cold, or a migraine.
and i can't believe i'm ranting on and on and on
and writing this stupid poem when all i should be doing
is recaping my day.
not writing, practically fucking pouring my heart out.
i feel exhausted and it's only been three minutes since my last typed word.
i feel one day i just might have to commit suicide.
my friends wouldn't care.
my parents wouldn't care.
she might care.
but no one else would.
would the world miss me?
would anyone miss me?
would my family miss me?
this is all a bunch of bullcrap.
life is a bunch of bull crap.
and im done. done writing this.
done with life.
nightynight.
wake up at 9
eat.
homework.
air car.
skatepark with tanner and serra kids.
gummy worms.
peanutbutter sandwhiches.
writing a new poem.
don't know why. but i feel depressed.
that thought is creeping back into my head again.
im sorry pantea, but it just does.
there's so much shit going on right now.
i just can't balance it all.
geometry test/air car project/and her.
she just adds to the drama and shit going on in my life.
but she isn't drama or shit. she's beautiful and pretty
and i'm just not worth her time.
it's 9/55 on 11/15, and as i'm writing this, im wearing a black beanie.
somewhere, in san francisco, someone's dying on the streets
from flu, or a cold, or a migraine.
and i can't believe i'm ranting on and on and on
and writing this stupid poem when all i should be doing
is recaping my day.
not writing, practically fucking pouring my heart out.
i feel exhausted and it's only been three minutes since my last typed word.
i feel one day i just might have to commit suicide.
my friends wouldn't care.
my parents wouldn't care.
she might care.
but no one else would.
would the world miss me?
would anyone miss me?
would my family miss me?
this is all a bunch of bullcrap.
life is a bunch of bull crap.
and im done. done writing this.
done with life.
nightynight.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
HALLOWEEN
you and i.
friends for ever.
but just that.
friends.
share the laughs, share the hugs.
but never a kiss, never a cuddle.
it was made clear tonight.
leaving early was the catalyst in this experiment of love, this adventure in romance.
we shared one long hug, and i thought that you were going to start crying.
i realized then.
you wouldn't.
i hugged you back, holding on as long as i could.
the way my head had fit into yours, we could have been nearly perfect.
but we can't.
that hug, that one last hug. it finally woke me up.
even though i don't dream about you anymore, or fantasize walking at night with you,
i know that in my heart, we're only meant to be friends.
mahal na mahal kita. 635.
friends for ever.
but just that.
friends.
share the laughs, share the hugs.
but never a kiss, never a cuddle.
it was made clear tonight.
leaving early was the catalyst in this experiment of love, this adventure in romance.
we shared one long hug, and i thought that you were going to start crying.
i realized then.
you wouldn't.
i hugged you back, holding on as long as i could.
the way my head had fit into yours, we could have been nearly perfect.
but we can't.
that hug, that one last hug. it finally woke me up.
even though i don't dream about you anymore, or fantasize walking at night with you,
i know that in my heart, we're only meant to be friends.
mahal na mahal kita. 635.
Friday, October 9, 2009
ASDFJKL;ASDFJKL;ASDFJKL;
HOMEROWHEOMROWHOEMROWRWEOMRHMEOMHWOEMHOMWOEMHOEWMHWOEMHOWEMHWOEHMWEOMHWOEMHOWEHMOWHMEWOHMOWEHMWEOHWE
WAITTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT
IS THIS CENTERED^?
FUCK IF IT'S NOT IM TAKING A 9MM TO THE HEAD.
IS THIS CENTERED^?
FUCK IF IT'S NOT IM TAKING A 9MM TO THE HEAD.
WHY THE FUCK AM I POSTING SO MUCH SHIT
SHITSHITSHITSHITSHIT
BIG CARY BLACK GUY IN THE CAFETERIA WITH A LAZY EYE AND PROBABLY A MENTAL DISORDER:DOES THIS TABLE LOOK CLEAN TO YOU!
NO SIR.
YEAH I WAS SCARED SHITLESS.
YOU'D BE TOO IF HE WAS ALL UP IN YO GRILL.
BIG CARY BLACK GUY IN THE CAFETERIA WITH A LAZY EYE AND PROBABLY A MENTAL DISORDER:DOES THIS TABLE LOOK CLEAN TO YOU!
NO SIR.
YEAH I WAS SCARED SHITLESS.
YOU'D BE TOO IF HE WAS ALL UP IN YO GRILL.
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