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Saturday, March 5th, 2005
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7:04 pm - busted
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Shit. Shit. Shit. Can't say it enough. Can't describe how shitty things are now. "Just a little magical leaf" and life for Dylan is over for a good eight months. I am to never see the light of day outside school, but the worst part of it is..... Two of the people I love the most are fucked as well. Because couldn't find it in me for one more little lie. My God i'm so sorry to them........... The Nerve Endings as well. We are no more. Had just found it in us to be a bad-motherfucking-ass band, and I blew it. I blew it. Wasn't even gonna be there that night, but just had to get in on other's fun, and be delightfully stupid about covering it up to unforgiving parents... might as well of just punched all my friends in the face and told them to fuck off. Shit. Shit. Shit. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. Shit. Shit. Shit.
But ya know what? I WOULDN'T CHANGE A FUCKING THING!!!!!! There were times with my crew when i was sure i had gone to heaven, and wished i had so that it would last forever..... no amount of scournful parenting or uncaring society will ever take those memories away. I'm not down yet. Fuck, I'm not done with this world yet.... just taking a break..... a long break.
current mood: uncomfortably numb
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| Wednesday, December 15th, 2004
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8:14 am
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Fucking chaos of running adrenaline
Fucking surging like a shit-filled mind
Hell-bent on destruction of hippies
Hell-bent by this rampaging republican
Goddamn our righteous slaughter-fucks
Goddamn them in our heds
Goddamn the preists that strip for free
Then wake up in my bed.
Ive been listening to way too much Adrenalin O.D.
But also a lot of Op Ivy, and in "Sound System", when they say that to resist despair is what it is to be free, ive been thinking about that a lot lately. Of course despair is in it's own way a form of kinda psychological oppression, and a total drag, wether it be from a bad event or just general depression. And i guess there is a difference between bottling up anger and simply not letting it get the best of you. It's amazing to think just how much control you have over your own mind, and how difficult yet obvious it is to resist despair. That's true freedom. Thinking and feeling the way YOU want. Yay for Operation-motherfucken-Ivy.
"Wake up, turn my box on
Bust the shade, let the sun in
Times gettin' tougher, 'bout time to start runnin'
Box in my hand, music by my side,
Skankin' to the rythm of the music by my side..."
current mood:  horny
current music: Adrenalin O.D.
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| Monday, November 22nd, 2004
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9:44 am
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HEROIN! We (Me, Luke, and Katherine) are going to make a musical called HEROIN!, and it's going to be one of those under-ground theater productions, like Hedwig and the Angry Inch. Damnit, gotta go (@school right now)
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(comment on this)
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| Thursday, November 18th, 2004
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9:36 am - uP tHe PUnX ------he he
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So, like thirty years ago, or whenever, a few bloke were like "Hey, i hate this structure and rules of the world around me" so they decided to act and play music that was different and off-the-wall and threatening to society. They weren't striving for any particular label, just doing whay they wanted for a change. But then, because humans are pack animals and need to be part of something, others started thinking "Hey, these guys that are doing what they want are pretty cool" so they adopted the title of "PUNK" from the rebels. They labeled themselves and thus made the very thought of "PUNK" into a group that was just like every other social faction. And one had to meet a certain amount of standards to be "PUNK". Now, I see no difference between the elite-ness of the punk scene and the elite-ness of the fucking mall-girls, hicks, jocks, preps, skins, you name it, we're all just trying to fit into a social faction so we can feel comfortable and not alone. Then we reject all other factions, because, well, that's what factions do. So here I am, wearing ripped up jeans, a lip- ring, and lstening to the Sex Pistols. They are my totally favorite band in the world. And feeling damn good that despite all these things, i refuse to buy into the label of "PUNK". It's a name, a label, a tag on you as you're just another item on the shelf.
Now I'm going to run outside and do the Iggy Pop swinging-arms-dance. LUST FOR LIFE MUTHAFUKKA!!!!!
current mood:  bitchy
current music: SEX PISTOLS
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(comment on this)
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| Wednesday, November 17th, 2004
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9:59 am
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So I'm sitting by myself eating beef caserole, best damn caserole ever, and i'm listening to Cher, when all of a sudden Luke comes in and says "Sweet Heavens dylan, there's beaver done-gone clogged the toilet". So i set aside my goddamn beef caserole and walk over to the bathroom, whereupon i look at the toilet to see nonother than a goddamn beaver ass sticking out of the ceramic rim. I say "goddamn it Luke, how'd this beaver get stuck in the toilet" but his only response was "WHY DOES IT HURT WHEN I PEE?" so i go to get the plunger, and when i look into the toilet, i notice the situation at hand was much more desperate than i had thought.
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(comment on this)
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| Thursday, November 4th, 2004
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8:37 am
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In the Alternative school, hella bored. Listening to The Love Below from Outkast, wich only verefies that i need to be dragged out back and shot, which verifies that i shouldn't be here right now, i should be out enjoying my last bit of life, but since i'll get arrested if i do, i'll just sit here and enjoy life. Wow, when i put my mind into writing like this, i see it's realy screwy!!! Possibly going to a show tomorrow in Ellsworth to see TPTDTTPDTDPPTDTDTTTPPP, and if so, i'm really excited. I know you like to think you'r shit don't stink, but lay a little bit closer and see that roses really smell like poo poo!------ Yes, shot. lots of times.
current mood:  bored
current music: OUTKAST muthafucka!
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(comment on this)
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| Wednesday, November 3rd, 2004
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10:38 am
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Alright, i'm starting a coup. No more Singing With Sesame street for me, no sir, i'm gettin out the peice, and ravaging the streets of London. Let's face it, millions of years of human existance and all we've gotten to is watching Mr. Rogers walk into his house ana change his shoes, don't get me wrong, i love the guy, great guy, great sex, but does that really justify the AK-4000 hidden under my bed? Where's the damn beef???? Grab your pitch-forks and torches, we're hittin the streets like teens in heat! How many cops could i take out simply by wacking them with my one-inch long bishop with a turtle-neck?? My truncheon's twice as big as their's, and what's more, well there isn't more.
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