coming soon here will be the recounting of me pleasuring her:

in a dream, of course, but still. it sure was neat.

fireworks. in the bruce trail. amidst mansions and mansions and money and money. sorta bait. but whatever. im lacking the inspiration to write a good post right now. i'm trying to figure out if i should be like my hero tony, and just have everything here not be true. but i dunno. i dunno. i think i'm just going to steal you pictures, and hope you enjoy them.

by the by, its may 24, so wherever you be, you beeeeeeeeeeeeeetter be getting plastered.



sooooooooo happy



i am the happiest boy



thats just cool. ok bedtime now. dreaming. probably of you skye. yes. you.

so. yup. uh huh. idle chatter makes the world go round, this, i have realzed. i like this new template, its better looking than the old white one. white man's always keeping me down. consequently, so was the white template. har de har. this guy, kenneth cowan commented on my nigger flu's site. his exact quote was "your blog fucking sucks bro." now, unless flu majorly insulted this kenneth boy, i think he should back the fuck up. cause, honestly now, why comment on some dude's site, telling him he sucks, when your only clame to fame is going on a road trip with anti. now, albeit anti is a fucking rad blogger, that doen't make you cool kenneth. ps: your name is kenneth. kenneth is one of the ultimate faggy names. like fuck, why don't you just go by like, fabio and get it over with. i dunno kenneth, i don't take kindly to people telling my good friends that their writing sucks. especially when i read your shit, and it's absofuckinglutely boring. like, dude, you're not anti. don't try to be. anyways, the point of this short sweet entry is a.) kenneth cowan makes me want to vomit all over his face. and b.) don't read his shit. now, if, by some odd chance his comment was like, not him or something of the sort, apologies to the real kenneth cowan, cause uh....you're neat. but, if, in fact, this was the real kenneth cowan, eat a dick.

basically, what i'm saying here is



thank you tvland, and goodnight.

she is my homegirl. for real.

and my mind is wandering wandering wandering all over this vast vast continent of ours throughout our loverly canadadia and the united states of amerikkka, and i'm flying and i'm staring into my cup of coffee and looking at the scar on my wrist from when that kid ran me over with a skateblade and laughing at how much it looks like something else but its not anything else even though anyone who looks at it thinks different and now i have to go and cut the grass runonsentence runonsentence runonsentence. and sadly enough, i'm sober.


falling

falling

falling

fallen

step out my front door and wonder what going to lay ahead of me in this suburban life that i lead. living livid. green carpets of grass spanning eternity. it's all just up here in my head. its sun up sun down sun up sun down like still life photograpy on oil canvases using as many many metaphors as one can use in one sentence. cloak and dagger cutting my throat as i bleed for you. thats pretty much what we have to do. bleed. sell our emotions. turn out our hearts. and so my heart is turned out, wrung out, cut out, sold. to the industry. to you, the consumer. theres a big market out there for hearts. just look at television.

and now i'm a soldier. and now i fight. but i don't believe in what i'm fighting for and there is no cause and there is no reason and there is no here or there or why or explanation theres only orders and explosions and bombs and friendly fire and i am a monkey in a long line of kings. . i remember getting into the mindset. i remember wearing fatigues, and boots, and a black t shirt. i remember trying to remember burning troy. burning troy to the ground. there is a lot of blood in history, there is no doubt of that. our past is written in the blood of our ancestors.

and i'm liberated and i'm free and i'm wondering when freedom got a price tag attached to it. step out the front door. and i'm wondering where everyone went. i'm wondering what happened to everything i knew and everything i was and everything i was supposed to be.

you are so beautiful. you are the most beautiful thing i think i have ever laid my eyes upon. i don't know how it is that you can exist but i thank you for it. i thank you for being who and what you are. for being wonderous. for being real and alive and tangible in a world where much isn't. in a world where there isn't as much love as there used to be you create it. you wrap it around yourself like a blanket. you wear it and wear it well. you shine. even though you may not think it, you shine. even when you are at your worst, remember that to me you are bright. brighter than most stars. brighter than any cliche'd term that i can come up with.

i'm sure that come morning i will wake up as a different person in the same place with a different mindset but the same body. the same smile. different intentions. more love. come morning i'll be whole

ok, so maybe it was because i was frigging around with it to get my haloscan back. but now its normal again. i just reset the template. again. this is whack. you're whack. THE WHOLE DAMNED SYSTEM IS WHACK.

so mad. FIX THINESELF DEVIL MACHINE

my template has gone re-tar-ded. it angers me. oh how it angers me.

and i was running and running and running. and i wondered what i was running away from.

suburbia with its comforts and tree lined streets.

i need to get a digital camera, so i can show you all what i see.

although, i'm not really sure if what i see is all that interesting.

i'll show you anyway, i always do.

i'm wondering if i should start giving my posts titles. this way, you won't get confused when i post like, a bunch in one day. but........yeah....uh.....we'll see.

i'm sitting here in my baggy beige american eagle cargo pants, blue t shirt i bought at the black market that says " warriors track and field", and no socks. i hate socks. socks are the fucking devil. fuck you socks.

i want to do something tonight, but i think everyone's busy. honestly here people. i'm hardly working this week. take advantage.

i wanna drive. i want to drive and drive and drive and not stop driving. i want to go far far away, just for the sake of going. i want to fly. i want to travel, go to new places, explore them. i want to be set free.

not that i don't like it here in my own slice of suburban heaven, but i need to see other things. theres way too much out there. way way way too much.

does it bother anyone else out there that there is a video of someone getting decapitated out on the internet, and on the news for all to see. fuck. i don't think that people realize that that's actually a person losing their life. losing it. having their head chopped off, and then bleeding out all of their blood on the ground. that actually happened. fuck.....

i'm going to eat a freezee. you know, the kind that you used to get in elementary school in the summer. when you got all excited, cause you were getting freezee's. these things were like, the biggest deal ever. yeah...those.



delicious

keep ya head up

america, i remember when you were a dream in my head.

i remember when i used to watch television, and wonder what it would be like to grow up in your perfect land.

to go to school in your hallowed halls.

to play football on one of your football teams.

to be a star in your eyes

but your stars are marketing, and still all i want is to be seen in your eyes and adored

your fame is poison, like most of what you expunge on the rest of the world



i love not being sober.

i love looking at you and not seeing what i'm meant to see

i watched "dawn of the dead". i caught the propaganda in the beginning.

everything of what you do it propaganda

cnn is pablem, anyone who says different has the mind of my teddy bear

america, remember when you were righteous?

i remember when i was a kid, and when i would watch G.I Joe, and i would think about american values, and american dreams

but those dreams are shattered and those values aren't real

i need a love that will leave me paralyzed

i want to know if that sort of love exists anymore

america, have you swallowed up that love?

america, you've defined the freaks and the geeks and the jocks and every typification of people that is possible.

and i wonder what happened to people.



just to be a person

i wonder what it must be like to not be classified as anything.

i wonder if there was ever a time when a person could just be without being judged, without being put into a category.

i'm wouldn't categorize me if i were you

you'd probably get a headache

america, you have rolling hills and mountains and praries and barrio's and bel air, and hollywood, and compton and all of these places and all of these people. you have tony pierce, you have rush limbaugh.

you are a place of infinite opposites.

i miss looking in the mirror and not judging what i see

i miss being able to look at myself free and clear, without having to wonder if what is there is good enough

america, when did you take away our innocence?

new york, may, 2002

walking down broadway with this girl i'll love for a long time

america, how can you be so beautiful and so dirty?

how can you be so free and so oppressed?

how can it be that even though you stand for so much you stand up for so little?

i've built you up

you've come a long long long way

and you're going to go farther

farther and farther and farther

until we'll sit back and wonder what happened to john wayne.

John F. Kennedy

we'll wonder where all of our heroes went

we'll wonder what happened to america the great

but maybe not

maybe you'll become righteous again

maybe you'll eradicate the cancer that has set down upon you

maybe you'll free yourselves

maybe, you'll fix yourself, become a paradise

i hope so

i hope that you fix whats wrong with your uncourageous democrats and sinister republicans

i hope that some day, you can look at yourself in the mirror again

i hope that some day, we can all look in the mirror again.

my little sister has a wristband, you know, the kind that black people wear when they play basketball, or the kind that white people wear when they embarass themselves at basketball. she has one of those. but it says "hottie" on it. i want one.

i lounged today. like, for serious, that was the only way to desrcibe my day. chilled out with a pretty girl for a couple of hours. that was neat. then sort of passed out on my bed. i was planning on going for a run, but bam i sort of couldn't move. it was interesting. and somewhat frightening. i rolled off my water bed o' hetero (fuck you matt) love, and put on pants and went for a run. then i ate dinner. now i'm here. fuck man, my life seems so boring right now. i miss toronto a little bit. but not. see, in t dot, theres always shit to do. its crazy. you can get fucked up every night of the week, then go about your day, then get fucked up again. bramptopia requires far more planning. this post sucks. i'm gonna start over.

and then i was like "who you trying to get crazy with ese, don't you know i'm loco". so i stabbed him. and he stabbed me. i'm writing to you from heaven. weird eh.

i need to do something artistic, or i may go crazy and.....uh....i dunno, what do crazy people do in bramptopia. apparently they shoot people through doors, but i don't roll like that. so i'd probably write here. or kick a tree. then hug it afterwards. cause trees are nature's friends.

my sister is a diva, bow down.

i just told flu i'd cut him, cause he got a cheap ymca membership. i need a j.

i think that matt needs to get a shorter url. fuck man, not everyone can spell that stupid word.

the delicious danielle is suggesting i grow my curly locks out. i dunno if i can handle that. my herr is so wavy. i'd look fucking weird. but perhaps somewhat alluring?

we don't think in terms of the morning afters, and we don't utter a single word of the night befores.

everytime i die kicks ass.

maybe i'll become a rebel. like, a serious ass che guevera motherfucker.

or maybe i'll play one on t.v

well, i'm gonna go. you have a good one......

fight the power