In the early hours of the morning,
The human brain, which should apparently still be asleep.
Cannot properly calculate the trajectory of a burnt peice of toast.
And as the blackened husk sits on the edge of the recycling,
Where it landed instead of the trash,
I think "Atleast I wouldn't have been able to do that If I tried."
And then I think about the day ahead,
And I imagine that everyday could be like what is to come.
Seperated from most of my friends I would have talked too,
Most of these hours spent silent.
And with the linger of sleep still clawing at my mind,
I wonder what I'm going to do to occupy my time in between the bus
Theres a street, in a country,
in a state, in a town.
It used to be well kept,
Now the shops are broken down.
The homeless sit mourning,
On a cold winter morning.
On a street, in a country,
in a state, in a town.
Theres a street, in a country,
in a state, in a town.
Where theres cracks on the side walks,
And pot holes in the ground.
Theres fond memories of the street,
Where friends used to meet.
On a street, in a country,
in a state, in a town.
Theres a street, in a country,
in a state, in a town.
It used to be busy,
Now no one is found.
The clock tower bell,
Now chimes only on 12.
On a stre
Punishment: Part One by IsolatedInsomniac, literature
Literature
Punishment: Part One
He sits there on the smooth, cold gray floor, maybe concrete, maybe cement, painted over in the most monotone gray color they could find. He moves his hand along the wall, the texture of the large bricks or stone still showing through the coats of light gray paint used to cover the ever renewing graffiti from past residents of the cell. The single light shining down from the middle of the ceiling failing to help fight against the chilling, freezing temperature of the cell. He shivers hugging his legs trying to get some sleep, but unable too, the air chilling him to the bone and the clothes that are not his own almost welcomi
In the early hours of the morning,
The human brain, which should apparently still be asleep.
Cannot properly calculate the trajectory of a burnt peice of toast.
And as the blackened husk sits on the edge of the recycling,
Where it landed instead of the trash,
I think "Atleast I wouldn't have been able to do that If I tried."
And then I think about the day ahead,
And I imagine that everyday could be like what is to come.
Seperated from most of my friends I would have talked too,
Most of these hours spent silent.
And with the linger of sleep still clawing at my mind,
I wonder what I'm going to do to occupy my time in between the bus
Theres a street, in a country,
in a state, in a town.
It used to be well kept,
Now the shops are broken down.
The homeless sit mourning,
On a cold winter morning.
On a street, in a country,
in a state, in a town.
Theres a street, in a country,
in a state, in a town.
Where theres cracks on the side walks,
And pot holes in the ground.
Theres fond memories of the street,
Where friends used to meet.
On a street, in a country,
in a state, in a town.
Theres a street, in a country,
in a state, in a town.
It used to be busy,
Now no one is found.
The clock tower bell,
Now chimes only on 12.
On a stre
Punishment: Part One by IsolatedInsomniac, literature
Literature
Punishment: Part One
He sits there on the smooth, cold gray floor, maybe concrete, maybe cement, painted over in the most monotone gray color they could find. He moves his hand along the wall, the texture of the large bricks or stone still showing through the coats of light gray paint used to cover the ever renewing graffiti from past residents of the cell. The single light shining down from the middle of the ceiling failing to help fight against the chilling, freezing temperature of the cell. He shivers hugging his legs trying to get some sleep, but unable too, the air chilling him to the bone and the clothes that are not his own almost welcomi
Serotonin
Rage and suppression,
Hurt and frustration,
Life and depression,
The death of a nation.
Love is the same,
Just knowing your name,
In comes the pain,
As we circle the drain.
Torment regins supreme,
Feeding a low self-esteem,
A terrorizing regime,
where emotions the theme.
The mind is unclear,
Ever growing is fear,
So we shed a tear,
Wishing you were here.
Longing for more,
While searching the core,
Feelings we can't ignore,
More powerful than war.
It may sound cliche,
Still take me away,
Inauspicious is day,
I'm here in dismay.
To see your skin,
Delivers a grin,
Yet the darkness sets in,
Farewell Serotonin
I have not been on here in like... Forver and a half...
So I put up some stuff, And later I'm gonna write another journal talking about stuff, Since im not gonna write a journal right now XD
Just saying I guess im kind of back, got a bunch of stuff to add, and a bunch of stuff on here to answer.
I'll write a real journal soon!
My week since Monday has been pretty bi-polar.
Monday was fucking AWESOME!
I went to MSI's show at the Showbox at the Market in Seattle (And so did Megan, Dakotah and Kennedy) and it fucking rocked.
We hung around near the huge ass line for awhile enjoying the Seattle scenery and awesome homeless people. And at ten to seven we went and waited in line for about half an hour, standing around and listening to this one homeless chick ask for money for a ciggarete and a joint, and then a hooker and a chainsaw XD (I doubt she was actually homeless though) And I wanted to have change really bad to give them. By the time we got in I was suprised a
Yeah.
It's Saint Patricks Day.
...Apparently.
I didn't know until five minutes after school started, and I had on a black and white Nirvana shirt, blue jeans, black coat, black and white shoes. Not some color seizure MSI shirt or whatever that would probably have green somewhere in there. So I had no green on. But luckily I'm Irish.
Don't pinch me, Instead give me presents.
Saint Patty's Day is for giving Irish people presents right?
Well alright I'm not very Irish...But I have red hair. And I wouldn't be suprised if I turned out to be an alchaholic when I grow up, So close enough.
Oh sorry didn't mean to be racist against Irish people