You know, this story's really bogus and all, I mean, the wolf really didn't eat me, it ate a few sheep like all wolves do but do you really think I'm gonna just stand around and let some goddamn wolf run up and eat me for chrissakes? That'd be like running in front of some goddamn train yelling "Hit me! Hit me!" like some goddamn moron. I mean, who's dumb enough to just stand there and let some wolf run by and take a big bite of him? It'd take a real moron to just stand there and wait for a bunch of people to save him from the wolf when he could just climb some goddamn tree. Anyway, like I was saying, the wolf really didn't eat me, I me...
You ask to understand me
(repay those days,
those years,
walking the same path,
of differing opinions)
to know how I think,
what I believe,
to know me as me,
not me as Erik.
(Inside to outside,
wear your purpose as a skin
rather than your lies as a shell,
the deception directed inwards
as much as to the world.)To crawl beneath the skin
(caress the veins in passing,
a velvet touch to fire the blood
while drawing all the iron
from my spine)
find all those secrets
buried beneath the walls of flesh
so deep,
they fuse with the marrow
(secrets and skeletons)
and become life unto themselves
(as we adapt,
model our lives as cages,
keep it all in,
...
Wrap my heart around 'goodbye',
(while saying to you,
'forever')
pawn that diamond ring I bought,
back when I was still in love,
(ignorant,
my hands across my eyes)
before I learned to listen
to what was really there,
not just the lip synch,
(darkness from a open door,
eyes blinded,
that's not my name)
to what your heart said,
in it's routine beat,
(whereas mine,
skittering,
stopping,
turns to iron)
that steadily,
never wavering,
passes by.
Each year,
the little boy prayed
that among his gifts
( model cars and aeroplanes,
books and clothes,
those Hallmark cards,
with a cheque enclosed,
sent by distant, awkward relatives,
he had never met )
he would find a single small box,
wrapped in black silk,
bound by a silver ribbon,
that, when opened,
would contain neither jewels nor fantasies,
( though a dragon was tempting )
but an emptiness,
into which he could put all his memories
( once, he wished to be rid of only the bad,
but perfection is only seen through it's shadow )
and start again,
another life,
as another person,
free from the corrosion
that toxic life inflicts.As the boy g...
Current Residence: Austin Favourite genre of music: Anything except pop rap & country Operating System: WinXP! Ah, viruses, how I missed thee! Favourite cartoon character: Kirby Personal Quote: "My kingdom for an insightful comment."
Favourite Visual Artist
Edward Gorey
Favourite Movies
Haven't seen anything particularly amazing lately.
Favourite Bands / Musical Artists
Currently enjoy Daft Punk far too much.
Favourite Writers
Haruki Murakami, Oliver Sacks.
Favourite Games
Tag, with croquet mallets. Gives you more incentive to run.
Favourite Gaming Platform
PS2/360
Tools of the Trade
My muse has a whole arsenal of things to hit me with. Most of them hurt.
Yep. Bad associations make Erik moody when logging on.Note me if you want the new one, I've got a backlog of work that's embarrasing me life a pedopheliac uncle.
Life can work out to be a rather interesting beast of many colours, and one of it's primary joys seems to be in proving just how ironic it can truly be.Now, I've always been vehemently opposed to online/distance dating. Just ask anyone I've ever known for a period of time, and they'll confirm that I'll (usually politely) make my opinion known. I'm not that shy.
So I've really got to laugh at myself for falling head-over-heels with a girl I met... you guessed it, online. God bless craigslist, fate, karma, linguistics, and everything else that might have had a hand in that. She's fantastic....I could enumerate her many virtues (and she's ...
Throughout history, birds have often been seen as having a relation with the spiritual realms, largely on account of their ability to freely traverse the domains of earth and air. And so, their actions were often seen as omens and portents of times ahead by our distant (sometimes not-so-distant) ancestors.So, I figure it might be a bad thing when I have a pair of doves commit suicide against my window. Gives me the heebie jeebies, especially with V-Day around the corner (I hate Valentine's, I've never had a good one in my entire life).In other news, the scanner is being obstinate, I'm stuck trying to figure out the drivers I need to instal...
You have such a knack for nature photography. Sorry for the comment-less fav avalanche, but lately I have trouble coming up with worthy things to say. I just look and leech aesthetics