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Her Demolition Lover

Dec. 27th, 2005

02:21 am - Main Entry: void 1

Wil has a void inside him that can not be filled no matter how many names he has in his cell phone, how much money he has in his wallet or how many gifts her got for Christmas.
Wil still cries when he sits on the train at midnight, and has to eat dinner alone because no one else is around for him. Wil knows half the people who are reading this are either ganna think "Stop being emo." or "Awww. Wil, What's wrong?"
Problem is, nothing is wrong, and i'm not being emo. I'm having a voided moment, the cold does this to me. I can't deal with the cold, so i try to ignore it, but wind catches me and fills that void that i keep warm by filling it with things that take up lots of time, like work and sleep. And then when Christmas is over and you realize all the gifts you got were convenient for people. This is either two things wrong with this, i just openned my parents and sisters gifts, which were basically clothes, none of which i need (like socks and underwear) but Curduroys and a Jacket. I got cranium, which we can't play unless we have four people, and that never happens anymore.

I feel like somewhere along the line i lost my touch, I lost my friends, I lost something, and is it because I don't put enough effort into friendship, and i put to much effort into work, and spending time on myspace complaining about my problems or is it because i'm an artillery friend. Someone who can be discarded and not have much to do with the actual flow of things.

My cousin Dylan got a Dinosaur for Christmas, and it came with little like bone things and stuff, he left all the bones laying around but played with the dinosaur, i feel like i'm the bones.

I feel like tomorrow, if i wake up, and i call up some people, no one is going to be around or free to hang out with me, and by the time they are, i'm going to have to go to work.

I feel like, i'm leaving for Florida hopefully in 5 days and no one wants to see me before then, and no one even knows i'm leaving. I have my coach who wants to see me, and Toni. No one else has expressed any effort to be part of my life past New Years.

Maybe my New Years Resolution should be to find better friends, or to become a better friend, or to move closer to my friends so i can really truly be part of their life, not just this guy that shows up for a day or two.

i was nearly in tears today, well it was right at the stroke of midnight, so i don't know if it was today or yesterday, but i was there, and i was on my way home, and i realized that i have this vacant place inside me. That i haven't felt my heart pumping in so long that it feels like it could no longer exist, and it wouldn't be a bad assumption.

I guess the holidays just bring out the worst in all of us.
Christmas would've been two years in a relationship with me, things would've been so much different then, i wouldn't have to deal with this void. This vacancy would be filled with joy to look forward to seeing someone.
But it's all relative, everyone who's single at this time of year thinks that way.
Everyone who's single, and has someone in mind, and know's they aren't going to be with them on New Years feels that they're year is going to start out at a low point.

I wouldn't be surprised if i miss the countdown, and the ball dropping, and don't have anyone special there for me to kiss. There isn't anyone who considers me that type of special.

I'm either that friend that they don't see enough of, and don't try to see enough of, or that friend that they've had to much of, that has overwhelmed their life, and they don't want to see him for a while.

I haven't kissed a girl since November 18th. Which is odd for me, yet everyone still considers me someone who would jump at that chance. I won't. I don't care about getting those physical actions any longer. Maybe because it's been so long since i've had them that i'm not interested in them, or maybe i've actually lost my drive. I just want someone to lay next to, that I can wrap my legs around and hold them close to me, and have them sleep on my shoulder, and their hair in my face waking me up in the middle of the night.
I miss waking up to the smell of girl. even if one isn't there, just the fact that my bed smelt like it made me happy. Maybe this solution would be to wash all my pillows and then spray them with perfume, or girl deoderant, and i'd sleep more restfully. Or maybe i just need someone to nestle up against again.
Any chance i get to cuddle i'll take, man, woman, dog. There are pictures, believe me. and just that arm around me or that smell or the warmth eminating off someone elses body just makes me joyful. Not horny like that just 'filled with glee'.
I can't believe how much i forgot how soft she was after 4 years of not laying with her, that's what amazed me the most. It brought back all the feelings i had then, i wanted it for my own. It wasn't that i was jealous, just greedy, i wanted it all to myself, but this time i knew i couldn't have it, and i knew i could only have it for however long she allowed me, cuz once it was gone, it was gone, and i'd have to wait for her to give me that chance again, and i probably won't get that chance until i'm 25 with the rate we go at.
I wonder if she even reads these... No one probably will because it's so enormously long.
But i know thats wrong, people read my new "about Me" section, and people have listened to my fifteen minute long audio bloggers.

I've hit a wall, i'm done writing.

Sep. 26th, 2005

10:33 am

*continued from Xanga*

So is this....

Apr. 25th, 2005

05:13 pm

The scene opens up, the camera focused, the date reads April 13th. It looks like a small apartment, there is a couch in the room and fake flowers on a coffee table, a television is flickering in the background the sound on just slightly, it on just for the slight noise and action, not because anyone is watching it. From other door steam is rising out of it and starting to cover the ceiling outside the room, the smoke is light gray, not a violent smoke, but a soothing smoke. The sound of water against porcelain is coming from the room, giving a soothing sound, as if the rain forest is trapped within her bathroom. The flowers on the table sway slightly as a breeze rolls lightly through the room. And then suddenly the breeze picks up and the flower lifts and almost falls out of the vase.

And like a steamroller rolling over a playground the doorbell rings, it interrupting the serenity of the scene, and overshadowing all the calming sooth of the room. “I’m Coming!” is heard yelled gently from inside the rainforest room. Jeanne walks out of it, tying the rope of her bathrobe, not having enough time to dry, she slides on her slippers, which match her bathrobe nicely. She leaves a puddle of water outside of the rainforest that now seems to be storming as the water pounds against the water. She walks over to her door and leans out, looking up and down the hallway and seeing no one, then she looks down and sees a package with an envelope on top of it, she picks it up and walks back into the room, placing it on her coffee table, she sits down on the couch and opens up the envelope reading it aloud:

“Dear Jeanne,

I’m really sorry about what I did; I was being shallow I should’ve showed more concern for you and not have though that everything circled around me. Just I’ve been really stressed out recently, I miss you and I hope I can see you again soon.”

The letter isn’t signed but she smiles knowing that it’s her special someone, and that even after their argument she’s still watching the London’s Burning PPV at the moment. She rips open the package with a smile across her face. Then a hand reaches up and covers her mouth, the other pulling the gift out of the box. She stands with the hand covering her mouth as she pulls the gift out of her box. It is a dinner glass. She backs up and drops the glass, popping the saran wrap on the top and the glass shattering across the floor, the chocolate egg-cream spilling all over the floor, chunks of glass flowing into it. She runs into the bathroom and you hear the sound of a door locking as the screen zooms in on the egg cream and disappear into darkness and glass.

Apr. 11th, 2005

01:29 am - Blind Man's Bluff

The sound of thunder and the flash of lightning through the windows of a diner are heard. Inside the diner is dimly lit due to the constant flashes of lightning blurring the patron’s eyes. The bottom of the camera reads April 3rd, 2005. Two pews forward and one to the right a lone man sits at the table. Facing away the raindrops on his hooded jacket glisten to the passing headlights of cars pulling in and out of the diner and the flashes of lightning that continuously come. A long red and white stick for the blind leans against the edge of the table. The waitress walks up wearing a maroon and white striped shirt covered by an ugly brown apron, her hair is down and the light brown curls bounce slightly as she walks.
She stops at the table where the blind man sits. One of her legs scratches the back of the other as she speaks through a smile she is so used to faking.“I’m sorry but we don’t have any menus in brail but if you want me to read you a menu, or give me an idea of what you want I could try and help you out…”

“Thank you Joanie, but it’s alright, I think I know what I want.” His voice is also heard through a smile, but not the smile of kids running up to an ice cream truck, but the smile of the pedophile driving the truck.

“Actually my name is Jeanne.” She is used to the mix-up. “So sir, what would you like?”

"h I’m sorry about the mix-up, my mind must have been wandering back to my high school days, I had a friend named Joanie. But I digress I think I want the Smoked Salmon? Do you have any?”

“I’ll have to check in the back, is there anything else I can bring you while you are waiting?”

“Yes can I please have a chocolate egg cream?”

“Coming right up sir.”

The blind man picks up the normal menu, which is the only one he has, and reaches out to give it to her but it bumps into the walking stick and it falls to the floor in unison with the boom of thunder. “Oh I’m sorry…”

“It’s no problem” She bends down to pick up the walking stick and a red thong peaks out of the back of her pants, and then hides again as she returns to her feet to place the walking stick against the table. “One chocolate egg cream, coming right up.”

Under the table the mans fist clenches and releases as the sound of rain against glass fills the dinner, the storm is getting louder and the place is starting to empty out, the flash of lightning reveals the puddles of water outside and the constant whirlpool of the water down the drain in the parking lot. Inside the diner is the only sanctuary. The booms of thunder is heard once and shakes the place, the walking stick starts to roll down the edge of the table and the Blind Man reaches out and grabs it, repositioning it so it can lean in place again.

Jeanne returns and places the chocolate egg cream on the table, a little harder then usual, and the man jumps from the noise so suddenly in front of him. “Oh, I’m sorry for scaring you sir. Are you alright?”

The man is slightly out of breath but that’s it. His response is almost in a gasp of inhaling air until he gains his oxygen back midway through.“It’s ok. Just with all the noise outside, my hearing isn’t as well. So did they have any salmon in the back?”

“Oh, I’m sorry sir, but we don’t have any Salmon, if you would like to order something else I can get it done… Rush delivery!” Jeanne smiles at her bit of a joke and the Blind man covers his mouth and coughs a bit while laughing himself.

“It’s okay, I just lost my craving for Fish after hearing this storm pick up again, but I do have one thing to ask you. Do you know where the bathroom is?”

"Yea it’s right around the counter in the back by the emergency exit sign.”

The Blind Man sits in silence for a second, and then finally responds.“Can you [I]take[/I] me there?”

Jeanne realizes again that he’s blind, so used to just giving regular direction to the bathrooms for all the one-time customers. “Yes I can lead you there.”

Jeanne bites her lip and extends her hand out to the Blind Man. She takes it and helps him out of the pew; he leaves his walking stick behind, leaning on the pew. She leads him around the corner, and towards the bathroom. It’s all the way in the corner of the diner and down a small hallway, past the kitchen door. There are two bathrooms labeled by the typical stick figure and stick figure with skirt, and then one glass door with the Exit above it. The light bulb in the little alcove is out. Jeanne reaches leads the Blind Man’s hand onto the doorknob of the Men’s room. “Here’s the door, I’ll wait here, outside for you, to help you back to the table.”

Blind Man: “Oh thank you, you’re such a sweetheart. I wish more peop—“ A flash of lightning and the man moves with it, his hand wrapping around the throat of Jeanne and the other grabbing her by the hair and pulling her back. Jeanne’s hand lock on the wrist of the Blind Man. The Man leans in and the lightning illuminates his face, as the smirk on his face is full and his eyes of those of a man who was just injected adrenaline into his bloodstream. He leans in and breathes in heavily taking in the scent of his prey. As the girl struggles to speak he forces his hand tighter around her neck.

He kisses her roughly on the cheek, and the only thing stopping her puke is the grip he has around her neck. He lets go of her hair and reaches down into his pocket, and pulls out a Lincoln. He runs it up to her face and wipes off her tears and mascara, then runs it down the front of her body, putting extra pressure on it. Her mouth screams but her vocal chords don’t follow along, he continues to run the hand down her body and under her apron, his hand explores her hips until he finds the elastic from her thong, and slides the bill under it. He leans in close so that his lips are up against her ear. As he whispers in her ear “Thank you for the egg cream, keep the tip.”

The grip of her hand has weakened so that his soaked jacket clings harder then her fingertips.. He loosens up and lets her slide to the ground; he brushes off his jacket slightly and turns. Walking out the exit and stops on the top stoop, he turns, looks at her and licks his lips, and then in a flash of lightning he seems to be gone, while Jeanne weeps in the safety of her fetal position.

Mar. 13th, 2005

04:45 am

I have not entered yet this year it seems. I could be wrong, but I may be right.
The way to keep yourself from seeing the big picture is to focus on the small things.
The more things die, the more things stay the same.
I am reading a book called lullaby, it speaks of a culling song that kills when you read it to people, that would be a new weapon of mass destruction. Sound would cease to exists, radio stations would shut down. We would have police officers sent to silence people so the words couldn't be heard, for if they were we would all be dead.

Pen with feathers and flowertops make up half the pens in my house, to bad after using them for a day the flowers welt and the feathers crack, leaving nothing but an ugly broken pen that works, but doesn't look good.

At night, when the mice come out you can hear them crawl under your feet, inches away from you, and you can look to try and find them, but you never will. They've already infested your house and the only way to kill them is if you kill everything. Time to Vaccuum seal the house..

Vaccuum is one word i never know if i spell correctly.

Ramblings are etched into stone, the only truth that is actually spoken is those in rambles, and maybe in songs, but songs usually parallel an alternate reality, or vagueness so that they can be globally accepted. "I am hurt." "I fucked up." those should be the titles of the songs that are pop enough for global acceptance, don't worry, it's a good plan...

It's five o'clock and my father has awoken, if he shall come down and see me here he might be upset. While he is in the bathroom i will scurry upstairs to bed. Which means now.

Dec. 18th, 2004

12:12 pm

You scored as None!. You\'ve either done a good job of avoiding drugs, aren\'t interested in trying them, or have had an experience that chased you away. Stay safe. :)

</td>

None!

50%

Ecstacy

38%

Inhalents

13%

Marijuana

0%

Mushrooms

0%

Alcohol

0%

Cocaine

0%

What's your ideal drug?
created with QuizFarm.com

Nov. 14th, 2004

07:52 pm - Home is where you make it love don't get yourself confused...

Home? What is home? Is home the place you sleep or the place you are most comfortable? Is home a place where you can escape all your worries and responcibilities? Or a comfort zone, the one place you can run to when no where else is safe. When we're small we'd use home and house interchangably. Is that so wrong? Our doormats or kitchen plaques always say "Home Sweet Home", not House sweet House... buy they make it seem like thats what they really mean, a house (or apartment) is our home. no matter what. For me home is not my house, for me , home is a dogs head in my lap or a cat rubbing against my ankle. Nome is where you make it. I feel the most comfortable in the double seat on the train, where i can curl up into a ball and no one will bother me. My house is the place i sleep, and shower. Home is everywhere. , Home is a kiss on the forehead, giving or recieving, Home is the interlocking of fingers with the one you live, home is in the arms of the one i love.
And right now, It feels like i don't have a home anymore.

Current Mood: soresore
Current Music: Watch the Fireworks - Jimmy Eat World

Oct. 19th, 2004

10:53 pm - Break Free

Ticking seems to be the main analogy now, the annoying repitition that only is revealed in the darkest of silences. the knowledgable existance of time makes it move faster. Time only creates anxiety, anything repetative feeds anxiety: alarm clocks, ticking, drums, all there to force your lungs to collapse and your breathe to escape your throat only to come back to keep you alive, and you struggle drowning in air, your soul floating away and only being constrained by your mass, your skin a cage for your being, and death is just you breaking free.

10:31 pm - Swallow it down

Swallowing down the water
it struggles through my throat
My Body to weak to force it down
It just flowing roughly
like waves down a waterfall
Is the way my eys twitch
and my fingers freeze.
I struggle to stay awake
As if once unconscious
I will have no will to wake.
How do we know that it'll all be okay tomorrow?
Why hold onto something so hard?
It'll all be gone tomorrow
unlike the water at the bottom of the fall
we all won't flow to the surface...
no matter how hard we struggle

Current Mood: apatheticapathetic

Aug. 29th, 2004

10:42 pm - Election

Alright, i was on the way home in the car today and i was just thinking about stuff, 'cause earlier today i was watching the news, and i couldn't find any real reason to put Kerry in office. Basically all they were saying on the news was that Kerry was like "i'm not Bush! Vote for me!". And can anyone really tell me a reason to vote for someone. and not who i shouldn't vote for. All i hear is "don't vote Bush" but i want to know a reason to vote someone, so please help me out a little bit. I'm only looking for reason to vote for Kerry or Bush, not reasons i shouldn't vote for Bush or Kerry.

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