I just want to listen to music through the headphones of the globe, I'll mix their screams with the cries of laughter. I'll cross over from obese greed and drown it in tragedy. I'll take one shot to a building and ignore the millions of bombs we drop to compensate for our more expensive lives. I'll bask in the glory of being able to eat the African families weight, malnourished and all. I'll parade around in clothes I don't need, expelling exhaust. "everything i could say would feed into insignificance"

Welcome to my Journal. IGNORE GRAMMATICAL ERRORS, or become my Editor


An Old Poem..who knows when originally written

Wine. A delicate touch of sour grapes.
Packed in wooden crates.

love, a clumsy word dressed in fine cloth.
an urban legend in an alphabet broth.

moral, a soldiers blind duty
compared to a brothers intuition

Freedom, an abused expression
used to spread open the legs of compassion.

Energy, a sickle on a cone of loneliness

liars, a bottled up group that relies on reputation

fame, a bunch of kids sucking on the tailpipe of fasciation.

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