When youre tired if youre quiet... [entries|friends|calendar] jo's ramblings [ userinfo | livejournal userinfo ] [ calendar | livejournal calendar ]

nwal. [27 Jan 2010|09:11pm] My Dearest, I forgot to tell you the following: 1.Oh, how I fear this combination of letters had something to do with what was lost in translation. 2.Upon reflection, some nights are not worthy of words. 3.Its the something you don't believe that are the things you can't forget. For instance, Eve was made out of Adam's rib. 4.Sometimes happiness isn't always the best way to be happy. This list is just the beginning. With Love, Jo the thorns hid easily in its beauty

writers block part deux [22 Jan 2010|09:31pm] i envy those who still drool at the sight of romance i no longer believe in fairy tales or happy endings or true love or mr(s). right logic punched the dream straight in the gut comatose forever? maybe. i want it you this to mean something maybe make me feel something other than the basics hungry tired cold i want your eyes to find mine and for it to matter i want to draw hearts around your name etch our initials in some tree in the middle of nowhere but its all seems so lame these days its as if any drop of desire has been (re)placed with(in) a coffin made of my bones 3|the thorns hid easily in its beauty

noitroba [06 Jan 2010|12:50pm] strange how flesh easily transforms itself into trash on a nameless street picked up by a man who lost his dreams at an altar back in 1973 those poor pined wings attached to a long lost fetus still smelling of the regrets of a one maybe two night stand the thorns hid easily in its beauty

6:30am is a lonely place [02 Jan 2010|06:33am] and that is why this entrys empty. the thorns hid easily in its beauty

what comes first the meaning or the word [22 Nov 2009|05:53pm] i couldnt find a pen resulting in the use of this virtual journal. i wish i could say i was miserable, but defining emotion by first thinking of a word is far from authentic. speaking of authenticity is there really such a thing? i find myself capitalizing my I's in emails to my friends. I hate that. i am being re-taught and re-shaped by this institution of graduate school. some would say this is for the best, but this transition fueling some sort of identity crisis. i am so resistant because something feels wrong, but as always i can not pin point whats exactly feels so wrong. maybe its the fact that i am told to refer to people as subjects and my hobbies as research interests. but does changing the form of a word really impede on the meaning? the thorns hid easily in its beauty

making love in a body bag [26 Oct 2009|09:00pm] i fuck you in hopes to keep my secrets safe in the folds of your skin but i fear i know where you go when your mind holds you hostage peripherally i can see your fingers tangled in the remains of her innocence though you know the only way out is to fuck her and i wonder in the midst of the moment can your ears hear the whispers of my long lost lies can she taste my shame on your tongue? i beg of you to kill the messenger as our bodies begin to mangle and in the weight of the ruins your goosebumps transformed into braille so we can longer make love without feeling confession and the misplaced emotions entrenched in my story that i tried so hard to tuck away in your crevices. the thorns hid easily in its beauty

dear diary [07 Jun 2009|06:22pm] i am waiting for someone to pick me up. we are going to the nine inch nails/jane's addiction concert. whoot. whoot. its strange, you know...life. well its not that its strange, well yeah it is, but a very very familiar type of strange. i just always thought that finding that one person to share this life with was going to seal the deal or bring about this ultimate bliss, but its not that way at all. its more like...you find that one person who is all you have ever looked for in another being and you want more. just more. of what? i don't know. you just want more. is this how every culture is? or is it this blood sucking capitalist whore system that produces such dissatisfaction? maybe its me. who knows. not you. not me. oh, paul rudd he might know. i guess what i am trying to say is the goal is not the reward nor is the journey its realizing that maybe just maybe rewards are the last thing you are actually looking for. 1|the thorns hid easily in its beauty

'ello [05 Jun 2009|06:40pm] never underestimate the strength of the human spirit the thorns hid easily in its beauty

up your sleeve [25 Jan 2009|06:53pm] "Why wear the magician hat if you ain't got no tricks?" "Because I like to take it off to memorize the eyes of those waiting for the rabbit." 1|the thorns hid easily in its beauty

thought determined by language [10 Jan 2009|02:16am] ancient shapes transform into symbols which control the fate of our species the construction varies over seas channels of communication cut out and we hear static and feel nothing, metaphysically psychologically emotionally physically. thoughts riddle my mind though i exist in a world where expression is inconceivable words are barriers elusive walls between everything is alive i long for a language older than words cocktails of atoms exchanging iris to iris a connection so tight only threads of silence can weave or just conversations with less lost in translation 1|the thorns hid easily in its beauty

[07 Jan 2009|12:32pm] excuse me, sir i believe you've let the cat out of the bag i tattooed your missing flyer so i would never forget the reward or the combination of numbers that would lead me back to you collars strangle illusion to give us an identity cut the leash my friend lets find out whats on the other end vitals be known only on the edge my pulse rests on tops of mountains silly fools freedom is a death sentence i live in solidarity through the cuffs of slavery 1|the thorns hid easily in its beauty

children are but the father to man [19 Dec 2008|03:36pm] we are but seamstresses fathers tangle their thread in mothers needles tying the knot in the midst of the double helix 1|the thorns hid easily in its beauty

the nina the pinta and the santa maria [19 Dec 2008|04:02am] the earth shakes and the room becomes an x-ray machine exposing all our dirty little secrets imprinted on slides only seen through certain light i wrapped my limbs around the capsule which holds your blood my hairs get caught on your zippered spine finally i get to see whats behind i snuck in through your tailbone as you came in around my clavicle our eyes switched colors and i was able to see myself through your iris dilating in a black hole i began to fall in love with my crooked teeth and my walk which stumbles like a child's first steps you finally got to see how the lines of your face are the mirror image to mine and we melted in to a puddle reflecting just how vapid the human species can be 1|the thorns hid easily in its beauty

meaningless caught within the meaningful [18 Dec 2008|04:35am] wrapped like a wire behind a television tangled in projected images of what it means to be alive but dont you know the sky was never blue and clouds are just cotton candy for the deceased and when it rains bodies revive from the underground i saw it that night we snuck into the graveyard i tripped over nancy forgone's fingers tips as her arms were reaching up to catch her cue running to the car we close the windows tight like the ventricles attached to a lost lover's heart my tendons hang around your neck cutting me loose with a punch line the laughter burns our skin leaving nothing but bones of release our rib cage collided echoing the tales of our mind on trial being sent to death row for electifying the lifeless so our converstation in bars could be with people less dead 1|the thorns hid easily in its beauty

for you, my love. [13 Dec 2008|05:42pm] i remember when we bought everything in double where you were the only one in my life with out trouble but now you are my nightmare just teaching me how life will never be fair you run miles to hide in a lesbian's room while i open my legs for men in our cacoon when i hear your footsteps i begin to undress but soon realize that you could care less if i am naked and spread like peanut butter stains all over the bed and i guess there is not much to say anyway the dichatomy in our anatamony the mind playing hopskotch in eternity bodies rot six feet under ground while we fuck in cemetires with out making a sound the thorns hid easily in its beauty

window shopping on 34th st [04 Dec 2008|12:24pm] i tap on glass to reach the attention of a flawless girl dressed in our cities perverted perfection nothing but a blank stare stare stare stare i place my palm on the glass and mouth i am sorry for what this world has told you a box with a screen is a much too powerful machine with a shopping window between us i think of ways to remind her of how beautiful her freckles formulate in the summertime ways to tell her the handles wrapped around her hips are lovely ways to tell her concealer traps life which radiates crooked colors that only run away from indubitable beauty when faced with the main ingredient of our existence water water water water it begins to rain in my head so i take both my fists remembering they are the size of my heart i break through in hopes to uncage you bloody fingers gracing your immaculate face while plastic fulls up my nasal passages straight to my brain i begin to realize no blood runs beneath your skin and this skin i feel is not skin at all and as i unbutton your blouse to find your name i see nothing but a sticker reading made in china the thorns hid easily in its beauty

written by aliz n jo [26 Nov 2008|03:57pm] freedom travels in cages while the latitude between our skin blankets pages of lust and chains the seeds with knowledgeable soles so we pollinate without envious chords that wire a confined melody which hypothesize this medicore flow of growth so lest change the theory we will blow diamonds to create a soft wind braiding our home in protection from the rays of warmth just to see what it means to be beautiful 1|the thorns hid easily in its beauty

forgive me father for i have sinned [25 Nov 2008|07:08pm] there is nothing than i want more than to hide in the folds of your skin i am beginning to think i am boneless you wear magnifying glasses so i ask you to help me find the fucking equation to aide in the chemical process of life because my body is not functioning properly unlike peter pan i am unsewing my shadow we leave the rooms smelling like vomit from spitting out all the poison we prayed to i am on my fucking knees silently screaming for a reason to wake up its like i am on a circus tour bus traveling and feeding off the innocent smiles of the American people i am magician with no tricks and its numbing i watch you rejoice in the interconnectedness of our species as i quietly pretend to participate i am the most truthful lie you will ever lay inside and when we fuck i feel like i am in confession walls with holes between us you keep pushing in while i keep pulling out 2|the thorns hid easily in its beauty

by jokim [25 Nov 2008|07:06pm] the stars write with cold green clouds on people as shoeless pencils trash ants with character streets hold hand prints of the future drawn stairs and molded doors take ship while the heat of our fruit hibernates in it's core the thorns hid easily in its beauty

dear god [24 Nov 2008|05:43am] the holy choir sings using invisible strings to pull me by i hear you preach dance so i do but not for you i strip under pews hugging strangers with my thighs and pretend they are you puppet on a string i don't mind being strangled as long as your on the other end 1|the thorns hid easily in its beauty

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