Schizophrenic Abstrusity (I seriously just used that in a review. How fuckin' cool is that?)

So, seeing as how this is still a globally viewed blog (I don't understand either don't worry), and although I assume it to be more a result of Shane Koyczan's being bad-ass than my potentially being nifty, I figure I might as well be placating you with some puff piece whenever I have the odd minute or two.

I have entirely too much self-concocted stress in my life. I dislike the word concocted there. I hope you were curious. That is all.

World, you are flattering me

So I am actually astounded by the number of people, globally (seriously), who are even remotely interested in what I have to say on my other blogs (and this one... somehow?) lately. Hundreds of people a day between them.. Probably doesn't seem like much, or just straight up isn't, but I still find it amazing. So many people interested in poetry, black metal reviews, collaborative angst, and whatever the fuck this blog is all about. Fuckin' eh.

On a different note, I have been listening to a ton of really good Post-Hardcore again. mewithoutYou, The Saddest Landscape, La Dispute, Mesa Verde, I Create, Pianos Become the Teeth, Touche Amore, Loma Prieta and The Apoplexy Twist Orchestra to name a handful. Brings me back a few years. Actually, check out Russian Circles too. Little bit of Post-Metal along the Isis vein. And Castevet (or CSTVT).

Sketches

If I knew what I know now then,

way back when we first met,

I'd point to the sunset and say

"I drew that for you,

see,

It's wrinkling in the rain"

Interesting

I am curious as to why I have had people directed to my blog from the website:

http://www.moredietplan.com

So says my traffic sources.

Thank you more diet plan, for wasting random peoples time on my behalf.

Pulse/Surreal

Siren of souls
howling and piercing the night.
These are the streets,
clinic fingertips.

Sex and Violence.
A naked soul, smashed apart.
Yearning, searching, longing.
These are the streets, I call my home.

A light pressure,
reality dissolves,
I am shattered
light, streams, energy
My ground is shifting
A mosaic of senses.

Matter is running through my fingers,
time is laughing at me.
This is the world.
Pulse. Surreal.

Dude... Scorned Acorns, sweet.

http://scornedacorns.blogspot.com/

I, as always, am posting under Skullduggery, so don't bother reading those.

Badass Smooth Criminal

(Fahrenheit Fair Enough) And This Old Man

Fading sense of relief, within a void of pale greys,
coalescing,
a lacklustre harmony.

A silent sort of static,
as snowfall in the days dying minutes;
monotonous, ominous.

Dulling sense of relief, within these desiccate moments,
fusing,
a languishing symphony.

A skeletal sort of atmosphere,
as snowfall in the days dying minutes;
ambiguous, ominous.

Yet, nothing seems to be missing.

A Speculative Fiction

A new iron curtain drawn across the 49th parallel. Cut all diplomatic ties as we expel all American dignitaries, and issue a nation-wide travel advisory for any others left inside. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. The burned out shells of south-bound traffic lay strewn across a cold stretch of would-be interstate. Still visible below their charred remains: Pax Americana plates. Your stupid fucking laser-pucks were just the start. And while you may stand six full cubits and a span, we got a shepard's sling and five stones in our hand and the battle of 1812 lives in our heart. We don't care if we're destroyed. We'll never capitulate. We'll take the whole fucking world down, down with us in flames. Just a speculative fiction. No cause for alarm. We got a good 15 years left till the United We Stand murals on West Broadway finally fade and we wave good-bye to your sad, childish refrains. Exchanged with other stupid lullabies like "you can have my guns when you pry them from my cold dead hands". Just a speculative fiction. No cause for alarm.

Ra! Ra! Cthulhu Fhtagn

That's all I wanted to say