May 7, 2012

One of those days…

I’m really tired.

The kind of tired that makes your eyes burn to the point that they water tired.

All my stress I feel is building and staying upon my shoulders.

Seriously the tension I have…ugh.

It’s odd though.

I mean it could be worse.

I never would have imagined myself homeless.

Ever.

Because I’ve always had places to go and people who love me.

I’ve always had my grandparents house that has been my sanctuary.

I would love to lay in my Uncle’s bed, take a nap and listen to the sounds of Stranger and Spanky playing video games. Hearing them and that vertical laugh they always have.

But I can’t because of scarecrow.

Her and her big mouth.

It’s already been a month.

I doubt my mom will ever forgive her and well, I doubt I will either.

I just want to lay in a bed and sleep.

I heard Thug Mansion today on the radio.

I think Raul is trying to tell me something.

I really believe that when I hear Tupac on the radio it’s because he’s trying to tell me something.

He’s trying to motivate me through Pac’s words and music.

It sounds crazy but on days like these…It’s just too conicidental to hear Pac’s voice like a reassurance.

Yeah…I’m tired I just saw a lady in the library that I thought looked like my mom but I checked again and bam. She looks nothing like her.

Sleep need.

And yet I have Biology class and lab.

Goodness how I hate it -__-‘

Mar 12, 2012

Life

I suppose on some level I do exist.

Simply put though, that’s all I am doing…existing.

Not living.

I have it better than most,

I’ll admit that.

I have a roof over my head,

Food in the fridge,

I have clean water for anything I want whether it’s taking a shower or randomly filling water balloons.

I have it good.

I live in a country that, while doesn’t give us extreme freedoms to do whatever we please, still allows us certain rights as people.

I have clothes.

People who love me.

Friends who are down.

So what is it that makes me feel so damn unsatisfied?

I lack luster in everything these days.

Rather there is nothing there.

An emptiness that which seems I cannot fill.

That’s extremely frustrating.

That I don’t feel anything.

It’s just existence.

That’s why I involve myself in my family and friends lives.

If I could feel what they feel when they fall in love, or feel passionate about a single topic, when they share their obsessions.

I with every fiber of my being encourage, push and meddle.

Because what I wouldn’t give to feel that way.

Those feelings, that passion, that single intensity.

They are special beyond anything else.

Nothing materialistic could ever make you more happy.

I feel as if I cannot become anything more than I am.

Or is it fear?

Do I fear becoming more than whom I am now?

When even music cannot invoke the feeling.

Torturous.

Still forever loyalty to she.

To them.

I love them.

I just wish I felt more.

The rambling.

“I’d rather burn out than to fade away”

Cobain mentality, never his action.

Mar 12, 2012

(Source: imgfave)

Feb 21, 2012

(via imgfave)

Feb 21, 2012

(Source: anditlingers, via imgfave)

Feb 21, 2012
the-iridescence: (by META-BEAST)

the-iridescence:

(by META-BEAST)

Feb 21, 2012
epitomeofperfection: Kurt Cobain’s suicide note To Boddah Speaking from the tongue of an experienced simpleton who obviously would rather be an emasculated, infantile complain-ee. This note should be pretty easy to understand. All the warnings from the punk rock 101 courses over the years, since my first introduction to the, shall we say, the ethics involved with independence and the embracement of your community has proven to be very true. I haven’t felt the excitement of listening to as well as creating music along with reading and writing for too many years now. I feel guilty beyond words about these things. For example when we’re backstage and the lights go out and the manic roar of the crowd begins, it doesn’t affect me the way in which it did for Freddy Mercury, who seem to love, relish in the love and adoration from the crowd, which is something I totally admire and envy. The fact is, I can’t fool you, any one of you. It simply isn’t fair to you or me. The worst crime I can think of would be to rip people off by faking it and pretending as if I’m having 100% fun. Sometimes I feel as if I should have a punch-in time clock before I walk out on stage. I’ve tried everything within my power to appreciate it (and I do, God believe me I do, but it’s not enough). I appreciate the fact that I and we have affected and entertained a lot of people. I must be one of those narcissists who only appreciate things when they’re gone. I’m too sensitive. I need to be slightly numb in order to regain the enthusiasm I once had as a child. On our last 3 tours, I’ve had a much better appreciation for all the people I’ve known personally and as fans of our music, but I still can’t get over the frustration, the guilt and empathy I have for everyone. There’s good in all of us and I think I simply love people too much, so much that it makes me feel too fucking sad. The sad little sensitive, unappreciative, Pisces, Jesus man. Why don’t you just enjoy it? I don’t know! I have a goddess of a wife who sweats ambition and empathy and a daughter who reminds me too much of what I used to be, full of love and joy, kissing every person she meets because everyone is good and will do her no harm. And that terrifies me to the point where I can barely function. I can’t stand the thought of Frances becoming the miserable, self-destructive, death rocker that I’ve become. I have it good, very good, and I’m grateful, but since the age of seven, I’ve become hateful towards all humans in general. Only because it seems so easy for people to get along and have empathy. Only because I love and feel sorry for people too much I guess. Thank you all from the pit of my burning, nauseous stomach for your letters and concern during the past years. I’m too much of an erratic, moody, baby! I don’t have the passion anymore, and so remember, it’s better to burn out then to fade away. Peace, Love, Empathy. Kurt Cobain. Frances and Courtney, I’ll be at your altar Please keep going Courtney, for Frances. for her life will be so much happier without me. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU

epitomeofperfection:

Kurt Cobain’s suicide note

To Boddah

Speaking from the tongue of an experienced simpleton who obviously would rather be an emasculated, infantile complain-ee. This note should be pretty easy to understand. All the warnings from the punk rock 101 courses over the years, since my first introduction to the, shall we say, the ethics involved with independence and the embracement of your community has proven to be very true. I haven’t felt the excitement of listening to as well as creating music along with reading and writing for too many years now. I feel guilty beyond words about these things. For example when we’re backstage and the lights go out and the manic roar of the crowd begins, it doesn’t affect me the way in which it did for Freddy Mercury, who seem to love, relish in the love and adoration from the crowd, which is something I totally admire and envy. The fact is, I can’t fool you, any one of you. It simply isn’t fair to you or me. The worst crime I can think of would be to rip people off by faking it and pretending as if I’m having 100% fun. Sometimes I feel as if I should have a punch-in time clock before I walk out on stage. I’ve tried everything within my power to appreciate it (and I do, God believe me I do, but it’s not enough). I appreciate the fact that I and we have affected and entertained a lot of people. I must be one of those narcissists who only appreciate things when they’re gone. I’m too sensitive. I need to be slightly numb in order to regain the enthusiasm I once had as a child. On our last 3 tours, I’ve had a much better appreciation for all the people I’ve known personally and as fans of our music, but I still can’t get over the frustration, the guilt and empathy I have for everyone. There’s good in all of us and I think I simply love people too much, so much that it makes me feel too fucking sad. The sad little sensitive, unappreciative, Pisces, Jesus man. Why don’t you just enjoy it? I don’t know! I have a goddess of a wife who sweats ambition and empathy and a daughter who reminds me too much of what I used to be, full of love and joy, kissing every person she meets because everyone is good and will do her no harm. And that terrifies me to the point where I can barely function. I can’t stand the thought of Frances becoming the miserable, self-destructive, death rocker that I’ve become. I have it good, very good, and I’m grateful, but since the age of seven, I’ve become hateful towards all humans in general. Only because it seems so easy for people to get along and have empathy. Only because I love and feel sorry for people too much I guess. Thank you all from the pit of my burning, nauseous stomach for your letters and concern during the past years. I’m too much of an erratic, moody, baby! I don’t have the passion anymore, and so remember, it’s better to burn out then to fade away. Peace, Love, Empathy. Kurt Cobain.

Frances and Courtney, I’ll be at your altar

Please keep going Courtney,

for Frances.

for her life will be so much happier

without me. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU

(via thatonekidwhodoesthings)

Feb 21, 2012

(Source: releaseyourinnerslut, via imgfave)

Feb 21, 2012

(Source: funkmylife-minaj, via ishittedonem)

Feb 21, 2012

(via thatonekidwhodoesthings)

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