<christopher> sometimes things dont work out the way you want them to. sometimes they do and you just dont realize it. sometimes you just become so desensitized that you have no clue what the fuck is going on and you put a fist through a wall. sometimes you hurt people because you love them. sometimes you just plum change your mind. but you always have to do whats best for yourself. sometimes whats best for yourself is also best for someone else </christopher> <!--1:11 PM-->
<audra> Hey chris-toe-fur...i finally got a comp and i can add my own little bits to your page now!!!! Latezzzzzzzzzzz </audra> <!--9:38 PM-->
<audra> We always welcomed those screaming matches, on the doctor's white tile of the store, in the seat of your old grand am, sometimes even submersed in the summer's midnight air. We burned like flames, feeding off the adrenaline pumping in every inch of our body. Your bulging eyes and gritting teeth made me excited, our screams made the crowds nervous, avoiding the stench of each piece of dirty laundry we hung out for view. I don't know when we stopped to breathe, our chests furiously heaving, trying to catch up to all the passion ripped out of them. When i came to understand the passing events, only the word "FUCK!" came to mind as i miltantly repeated it for my own benefit. I could smell the stains of nicotine on my hands from the stale cigarettes I smoked just like a child sucks on lollipops, quickly finishing and asking for another. I always had a problem with sticking to what i said, but you were just to damn stupid to think you would never get caught. "You need to go home" I said as I wiped the sticky sweat off my face and onto the leg of my pants. You didn't say anything, just sent me an ambigious glare that i would later interpret at home as one full of regrets over a foiled plan. We always had a thing for those screamings matches, that subtle drama on a stage of absent eyes, but that night i realized i couldn't stand that "thing" anymore. </audra> <!--9:37 PM-->
<j> [9/20/2001 3:11:10 PM | j me]
sling your self along umbilical hours
burrow in wombs of contempt
cry infancy in the form of a man
whipe your tears away
with the hem of self indulgence
she knows how to construct
deconstruct minds
an abortion of will escapes through your fingertips
you were never yours-
slung along with maternal standards
</j> <!--3:13 PM-->
<j> sling your self along umbilical hours
burrow in wombs of contempt
cry infancy in the form of a man
whipe your tears away
with the hem of self indulgence
she knows how to construct
deconstruct minds
an abortion of will escapes through your fingertips
you were never yours-
slung along with maternal standards
</j> <!--3:11 PM-->
<j> i miss u </j> <!--3:05 PM-->
<joE> I feel like I don't belong here
but then
I don't feel like I belong anywhere lately
But what is a feeling of belonging, really?
So lucky
So strong
So proud
It's easy to see the bad; ignore the good.
and it seems like the harder I try, the easier I fail. </joE> <!--8:24 PM-->
<j> if you must at least repsect the tarot for its power as opposed to fearing it. </j> <!--8:13 PM-->
<j> so divination is a sin...
and i harbor tools of the devil in my hand.
that's funny, to concern yourself with the trivial:
then vogue is satanic!! along with its monthy horoscope.
but alas, vogue cannot fortell the future,
any future,
at least ones that dont include the diet coke and cigarette/waif in heels/bingers on wheels/shoot me up to look sexy diet.
</j> <!--8:13 PM-->
<christopher> 'blind faith'
whispering through eyelids
seeing is not believing
believing come easier
knowledege:
truth knows less of power
emfeebled beyond repair
pursuit:
happiness around the bend
just out of reach
well within sight
horizons eclipse
light can't see
the sun is blind to you and me
believe </christopher> <!--5:27 PM-->
/archives