distance can save you
seeing things that one never knew
come to realize a parasite is sleeping
one is sleeping with you
oh how i wish i hadn't started
what ultimately dragged me down
the sweet time i had back when
i left and never turned around
but glances can catch a reason
i could have drowned myself
when you come in singing
"your memories are now mine as well"
my memory must be slipping
its becoming awfully hard
to keep on living
from here I will try my best to jump off
and all i can continue thinking
the weight is of no end
i see you and all i am thinking
"my memories are now yours as well"
i lost the passage into my exclusive
and now all I've got left is shared
try and find the distractions
it'll be a regretful conclusion
but glances can catch a reason
should have drowned myself
when you come in singing
"your memories are now mine as well" x2
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Honorable Mentions #4: 4th of July: Just.. just fuck this.
#4 "4th of July: Just.. just fuck this."
By Mark Gross
I suppose, to be fair, I should say I already hated everyone by this time, their natures fully revealed and in turn their natures revealed to be easily discovered in your local toy shop (look for them in the Barbies collection). As such, to even consider arriving on time was detestable to me.
I went.
There was no hope of them being redeemed, but I hoped to grit my teeth and bear through, you know, for the food. Not only was I wrong in this assumption, I found myself warped into a world that exists only in the giggling minds of tiresome beings. I stepped out of the car and emerged into Hell, just in time to listen to the Cape Crusaders, (editor's note: this band isn't that great) sadly, my only other reason for going. I had a choice to make: take that chair over there and sit alone to watch them play, or join that group right in front of the show.
Easy choice, I took the chair. Fuck that. No, fuck that, fuck that, fuck that, fuck that, fuck that shit. Fuck that shit to hell. Straight to fucking hell. You know what? I would rather have fucked shit while summoning nether demons with devil magic to drag me straight to fucking hell than been part of that fucking group. I'm not that much of a fucking idiot.
As you can see, the period of decline was in full force. I saw that group there and it was made up of plastic and LIES. Fan-fucking-tastic. When the music ended - those fucking bitches - went inside or some shit. I didn't even step foot into the inner sanctum of the house, because some cool guy left and gave me a ride home so I could enjoy it with my family. Unlike some people, who don't have a fucking family. Why? Because nobody loves them. Fuck.
By Mark Gross
I suppose, to be fair, I should say I already hated everyone by this time, their natures fully revealed and in turn their natures revealed to be easily discovered in your local toy shop (look for them in the Barbies collection). As such, to even consider arriving on time was detestable to me.
I went.
There was no hope of them being redeemed, but I hoped to grit my teeth and bear through, you know, for the food. Not only was I wrong in this assumption, I found myself warped into a world that exists only in the giggling minds of tiresome beings. I stepped out of the car and emerged into Hell, just in time to listen to the Cape Crusaders, (editor's note: this band isn't that great) sadly, my only other reason for going. I had a choice to make: take that chair over there and sit alone to watch them play, or join that group right in front of the show.
Easy choice, I took the chair. Fuck that. No, fuck that, fuck that, fuck that, fuck that, fuck that shit. Fuck that shit to hell. Straight to fucking hell. You know what? I would rather have fucked shit while summoning nether demons with devil magic to drag me straight to fucking hell than been part of that fucking group. I'm not that much of a fucking idiot.
As you can see, the period of decline was in full force. I saw that group there and it was made up of plastic and LIES. Fan-fucking-tastic. When the music ended - those fucking bitches - went inside or some shit. I didn't even step foot into the inner sanctum of the house, because some cool guy left and gave me a ride home so I could enjoy it with my family. Unlike some people, who don't have a fucking family. Why? Because nobody loves them. Fuck.
Honorable Mentions #3: Flowers, Sunday, I'm gonna be REALLY DEPRESSED, Like forever.
#3 "Flowers, Sunday, I'm gonna be REALLY DEPRESSED, Like forever."
By Bryan Santizo
When one feels captivated, so much to the point where it causes them to act upon it, you know it might not work. Remembering times when one tries to find complete resolution, so that everything through which one has felt is redeemed, so that they may feel happiness in spite of the fact they already have it, looking back towards them this is how one evaluates the soul.
In my expedition towards this, I was in luck to have my companion with me, we drove along the friendliest of neighborhoods in order for me to hone my skills to achieve my redemption. Once we finally were about to set forth into the area of unknown enchantments, a surrounding so filled with visions of another world, one would expect to fall straight into the very element that is escapism.
We had made arrangements to make sure I was equipped with only the finest 'armor' so to guarantee my success. But all was for not. Like so many others, the quiet few who choose to never speak of bitter rejection, I was meant for disaster. It also was of no remedy to feel empty because I had already felt as such, being the one who had such a heavy heart and stood on its weight until it was confirmed to me by my lady of affection that my heavy heart, it wasn't of enough weight to move her towards me, not even close.
To make matters worse it only took a few hours later to learn that it could have all been prevented. But being empty, I couldn't bother to feel fury, no the effort was too great and superfluous thoughts on life began to form. Thank god for my comrades though, much like a brick thrown at a window, these thoughts were shattered, forever scattered to be reminded of later on as a lesson. We drove, drove on in the middle of nowhere with the most indifferent group I had ever had the pleasure to be with. I had come over my shortcomings and emerged reborn. Sorrows can be drowned, you just need to find the closest river.
And today I look back in thoughts not of sadness or anger but in the sense that, that day I had found reconciliation and a great peace that I was not alone in a life of both failures and successes.
By Bryan Santizo
When one feels captivated, so much to the point where it causes them to act upon it, you know it might not work. Remembering times when one tries to find complete resolution, so that everything through which one has felt is redeemed, so that they may feel happiness in spite of the fact they already have it, looking back towards them this is how one evaluates the soul.
In my expedition towards this, I was in luck to have my companion with me, we drove along the friendliest of neighborhoods in order for me to hone my skills to achieve my redemption. Once we finally were about to set forth into the area of unknown enchantments, a surrounding so filled with visions of another world, one would expect to fall straight into the very element that is escapism.
We had made arrangements to make sure I was equipped with only the finest 'armor' so to guarantee my success. But all was for not. Like so many others, the quiet few who choose to never speak of bitter rejection, I was meant for disaster. It also was of no remedy to feel empty because I had already felt as such, being the one who had such a heavy heart and stood on its weight until it was confirmed to me by my lady of affection that my heavy heart, it wasn't of enough weight to move her towards me, not even close.
To make matters worse it only took a few hours later to learn that it could have all been prevented. But being empty, I couldn't bother to feel fury, no the effort was too great and superfluous thoughts on life began to form. Thank god for my comrades though, much like a brick thrown at a window, these thoughts were shattered, forever scattered to be reminded of later on as a lesson. We drove, drove on in the middle of nowhere with the most indifferent group I had ever had the pleasure to be with. I had come over my shortcomings and emerged reborn. Sorrows can be drowned, you just need to find the closest river.
And today I look back in thoughts not of sadness or anger but in the sense that, that day I had found reconciliation and a great peace that I was not alone in a life of both failures and successes.
Introduction and Honorable Mentions #1: Halloween: A Surrealistic Nostalgic and Loving Tale
Introduction.
by Bryan Santizo
Ah yes, the runner ups, the almost made its, the cesspool of everything, ever. Here in these confines one can find those days that struck as memorable, the days in which we played merely for games. In their vague and quasi-mystical meanings hidden beneath by instant gratification, bad moods and selfish people. But all is not to be negative, no, some stories begin faltering, only to be redeemed in the end, others end where they being, and some only are retold to remind us that some things will never change, only our perception to it. All who enter, lose all hope of moral fear and judgment.
#1 "Halloween: A Surrealistic Nostalgic and Loving Tale"
By Bryan Santizo
I enjoyed Halloween when I was much younger, something some sort of aspect of dressing into the most irregular form of clothing was attractive at the time, whatever the hell that is supposed to mean in my childhood (and I'm sure it's something BAD) I've come to learn this year Halloween is more than the sum of its parts. A manifestation of "let's do this because goddamn I'm trying to find the door to happiness and perhaps it is here and not in the other four thousand places I've searched in."
A surrealistic journey if there was one, surrounded by ghosts calling back to the bedsheets of the lightest winters, my good willed yet not exactly high fidelity drummer, and a companion who reminds me of times that no longer exist. Our initial destination was at Chipotle, for nothing says "I'm cool" than showing up and demonstrating how to wrap your comrade in aluminum foil. But this, this feeling of awkwardness that one would normally allow to tangle true feelings, that was dispelled, just fucking annihilated.
I came to realize, who cares about such small details, I mean for the love of all things related to sarcasm, I was dressed like fucking Hank Hill. And guess what? I escaped the clutches of mundane surroundings, not bogged down by stupidity or gossip mongering bitches. I had found once again what made childhood's Halloweens so great, so DIFFERENT.
Having escaped, I immediately recharge my vigor and settled down in my new found yet temporary paradise of company. Temporary because like all great things, they must end or else the stagnation grows, and so does the wicked thought of separation by cruel means. (Like many things, am I right?) But it ran its course perfectly, from trick or treating to tossing around a ball of mighty aluminum to myself being called a heathen by a stray duo of church folk, this was the heartfelt thrilling celebration I was waiting for, and I would not have had it any other way.
In the most unexpected of gatherings I had found happiness and a resolve to further continue my journeys for such warmth in the coldest of eras.
by Bryan Santizo
Ah yes, the runner ups, the almost made its, the cesspool of everything, ever. Here in these confines one can find those days that struck as memorable, the days in which we played merely for games. In their vague and quasi-mystical meanings hidden beneath by instant gratification, bad moods and selfish people. But all is not to be negative, no, some stories begin faltering, only to be redeemed in the end, others end where they being, and some only are retold to remind us that some things will never change, only our perception to it. All who enter, lose all hope of moral fear and judgment.
#1 "Halloween: A Surrealistic Nostalgic and Loving Tale"
By Bryan Santizo
I enjoyed Halloween when I was much younger, something some sort of aspect of dressing into the most irregular form of clothing was attractive at the time, whatever the hell that is supposed to mean in my childhood (and I'm sure it's something BAD) I've come to learn this year Halloween is more than the sum of its parts. A manifestation of "let's do this because goddamn I'm trying to find the door to happiness and perhaps it is here and not in the other four thousand places I've searched in."
A surrealistic journey if there was one, surrounded by ghosts calling back to the bedsheets of the lightest winters, my good willed yet not exactly high fidelity drummer, and a companion who reminds me of times that no longer exist. Our initial destination was at Chipotle, for nothing says "I'm cool" than showing up and demonstrating how to wrap your comrade in aluminum foil. But this, this feeling of awkwardness that one would normally allow to tangle true feelings, that was dispelled, just fucking annihilated.
I came to realize, who cares about such small details, I mean for the love of all things related to sarcasm, I was dressed like fucking Hank Hill. And guess what? I escaped the clutches of mundane surroundings, not bogged down by stupidity or gossip mongering bitches. I had found once again what made childhood's Halloweens so great, so DIFFERENT.
Having escaped, I immediately recharge my vigor and settled down in my new found yet temporary paradise of company. Temporary because like all great things, they must end or else the stagnation grows, and so does the wicked thought of separation by cruel means. (Like many things, am I right?) But it ran its course perfectly, from trick or treating to tossing around a ball of mighty aluminum to myself being called a heathen by a stray duo of church folk, this was the heartfelt thrilling celebration I was waiting for, and I would not have had it any other way.
In the most unexpected of gatherings I had found happiness and a resolve to further continue my journeys for such warmth in the coldest of eras.
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