| When Poets Dreamed of Angels |
[Jan. 20th, 2006|06:47 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  dorky | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | Once - Brotherhood of the Wolf Soundtrack | ] |
Poets dreamed of angels,
Once not long ago.
Writting words of wonder,
On pages long ago.
Heavy laddened metaphores,
Writhing in the sea.
Lullabyes of passion,
Dancing on the sea.
But through the waves it came,
A beast from their own lore.
Twisted shadows binding,
The words of their sweet lore.
Angels awoken screaming,
Life choked from their lips.
The poets softly dreaming,
Blasphemy coats their lips.
'Lo the sweetened laughter,
That peace of long ago.
Died that cold December,
Once so long ago.
Ok, it's not that great, but I'm going to write a story of the same title soon. Well, start it soon, finishing is another story all together.
School started today, Parrish is my new favorite person, ever.
The new band director is an arrogant prick, who does NOT know music, does NOT know jazz, and does NOT know anything in general knowledge, AGH.
Sexton is normal. So normal that it's kinda creepy.
Holleman is cool. As always. But I'm afraid his class may kick my ass. Alot.
None of my old friends in my lunch. This saddens me greatly. Sara and Eric are great, but I miss everyone eeeeeellllllssssssseeeee.
I'm not well these days.
Ali is amazing, but she knows that already, what more do I need to say? :-D
Anna is awesome, and needs to find her happy place, but until then I'm willing to help lead her around the forest.
Rian, get better, you sounded really off today, and I feel really bad for you. *Throws love at you in glorious amounts*
Kit...*hug*
Rabble rabble rabble.
It's amazing how much I want to write on here, but am afraid too. This isn't a journal, it's jsut a datebook.... :-\
I'm seeing Underworld 2 tomorrow, if I have to go by myself, and look like a loser. Silent Hill has it's trailer attached, and I'm willing to pay jsut to see that!
Lauren and Sarah, movie night, soon, for serious. *And no, my cellphone is NOT going to be there*
I need to get things off my chest, but I'm afraid they'll rip my heart out if I try.
Holy fuck, that was an emo statement. *kicks self*
Oh well, time to go fuck around and do nothing.
Catch you o the flip side.
Lots of love,
Ross |
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| Nothing's Ever Easy |
[Jan. 13th, 2006|11:56 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  depressed | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | Theatre of Tragedy - "A Distance There Is" | ] |
Why?
Why me?
Haven't I been through enough for you yet?
Haven't I seen enough shit from this world, so that maybe just once, just fucking once, I can be fully proud of my actions?
I keep trying to rise up, but you won't let me go far enough to reach what I want.
I don't ask for much. I don't ask for perfection, for money, for fame, for looks.
I don't ask you to compeltely change all that has happened to me.
I just ask you make my mistakes right again. Make the people that despise what I've done realized why I have done it.
I can't stand knowing that people I see as my most valued and trusted friends sit and talk about their hatred of me. Their resentment.
I know I've done things I'm not proud of, I know I've done many things that deserve punishment, but this?
Maybe you think I'm selfish. To want happiness.
Fuck you.
Who are you to say I can't want happiness? Have I truly done things so wrong that it no longer matters?
"Once"
"Twice"
"Three Times"
More than I can say.
Are people not forgiving?
Are you not also?
Ca you not let me live and love in peace?
Peace...
That's all I want really.
Peace from all of these nightmares, these thoughts, constantly reminding me I'm not good enough, that I don't deserve this, I don't deserve that.
I hope you're happy.
I hope you're happy that I've gone this far.
You can only give me brief glimpses of what I think happiness could be, then you show me just how twisted you can make them.
There is no God.
There is no Goddess.
Only hate.
Only whatever you are. Getting enjoyment from all of this.
I know there are worse off than me. I see them everyday. I am their equal, if not lower.
I don't write this because I feel like complaining.
I don't write this because I truly believe it will help.
I write this so that maybe something, someone, is listening, and can hold me, and make me know that everything is alright.
Maybe those who resent me will understand me.
Maybe they'll hate me more.
Just give me something.
Just give me something worth living for. |
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| Talk Nerdy To Me |
[Jan. 12th, 2006|09:08 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  chipper | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | Stratovarius - Abyss of Your Eyes | ] |
I wrote a poem based off The Crow. You're going to read it. Now. :-D
There is a man playing a violin,
And the strings are the nerves of his own arm.
There is a woman crying tears,
And the tears are the blood of her children’s sins.
The crow gently flaps his wings,
A shadow of honor slain.
His cry shakes the graveyards dust,
A siren’s song awaking pain.
The rose it sways,
A silken memory torn.
The crow cries again,
It’s hatred not yet shorn.
There is a boy playing ball,
And the bat is the bones of his mother’s love.
There is a girl gently swinging,
And the tree is the root of her own soul.
The crow gently flaps his wings,
Vengeance following it’s trail.
The path it leads the soulless on,
Ends its show in hell.
The wind it stops,
A nightmare in frozen frame.
The crow it cries again,
Baring it’s keeper of his shame.
I'm a Crow fanatic. So sue me.
Anyway, today was ok, I told a good story to Glynis, I think she laughed and appreciated it alot.
I recieved a awesomely sweet letter from Ali in the mail (I loooove real mail, and people that use it make me ridiculously happy) And I smiled alot. I'd say more, but it wouldn't do it justice.
My English exam was ok, nothing to write home about.
The radio sucks these days. 100.3 all the way bitches. Nothing beats classic rock.
Speaking of the radio, a song told me to go home and get stoned today. *shakes head* Stupid bands...
I bought cherries today. The cherry cart listed the ingredients. I do not want a cherry with ingredients. I want a cherry. Not 50 bazillion chemicals, that end up making my cherries tasting suspiciously like shrimp. Ew.
Now Shinedown is telling me to jump in the water with him. I sure hope he's not naked.
Ali just read a magazine article, that says you can prolong your hairbrushes life by shampooing it. And not jsut shampooing. Washing, drying, and rinsing it. Please, if you seriously do this, ge toff my journal now. God hates you, like for serious.
Rebecca's going to the flanvention. *claps*
Haily thinks her life is over because Gerard (My Chemical Romance) is gettng married. Haily is very sad.
I have the next Sword of Truth book. Excitement is had, because I love these books, and I don't care what you think.
Look! It's a badger with a gun!
*Dissappeers*
Love ya,
Ross |
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| Another Day of Solitude |
[Jan. 11th, 2006|11:50 am] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  weird | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | Holy Mountains - System of a Down | ] |
"There is a man playing a violin, and the strings are the nerves of his own arm."
I hate having completely contrasting feelings.
On one hand, we have the parts of my past week or so that completely sucked, and were devoid of any type of happiness or fun. Yet on the other hand, we have the times of sheer joy and happiness (Thanks Ali :)). So as I sit here, on my one day of freedom from the horrific thoughts of exams, I think back on the times past and wonder if the choices I made were the right choices.
Are there right choices? I will be the first to admit, most of my choices have been in probably selfishness, and for my own happiness, but I believe that no matter which choice I had choosen, things would inevidibly end up right back to where we are today.
At this point, I am happy, even if some strive to make that remark false, everyday I think it defiantely could be worse, and while I feel parts of myself rise with happiness, I feel others sink deeper into that abyss I seem to can't help staring into.
At the risk of sounding cliche, and completely unmanly, and not like the Ross you all know, I just kind of want to be held, and forget a few select things. I'm tired of fighting, and I just want a break. Hopefully this long weekend coming up will suffice, and perhaps even I'll be as lucky as to have some comforting arms over here. *hint hint*
I want someone to kidnap me.
Well, not just any someone (God, don't you hate having to be careful what you post on the internet these days?) But you guys can figure that out on your own.
Isn't sad I can type all of this, yet still be smiling?
My ribs really hurt. God damn doors.
Ok, well, I'm tired of sounding sad and poetic and all of that nonsense, so I'm going to end this and let it stand as my first entry in the world of "livejournal". (I've been through thre other different blogs before this one, so don't count on me to stick here).
Hope your day is fun and happy and all that jazz.
Much love to all you crazy bastards out there.
~Ross
PS: Ever have a woodchip stab you in the nipple? NOT a pleasant feeling. |
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