Dissonant Arguments

the smell of your car collision is still fresh 

and sticky on my skin
Its pheromonic to come face to face 

with death and kiss an angel for the first time

Walking out of this earth together 

doesn’t have to be a pile of broken bones

You can see heaven for the first time 

and accept that our final seconds

in this world will be worth it 

for a new paradise

No worries my beloved,

I’m not fantasizing about an opportunity 

to whisper a sweet goodbye after surviving a night of torture masturbating to a highlight reel of my life’s worst betrayals.atleastifinallymadeyouwet 

Broken hearts are just part of the feng shui 

when slow dancing across 

the road less traveled 

I can still find sentiment when 

soulmates scribble on my scriptures 

and hide it away in a forged jewelry box

Sharing a steez down memory lane 

reminiscing about the last time 

she looked at me with tender 

eyes a couple winters ago.stillmakesmyheartmelt

And once again, I can find salvation 

again in the picket fence we tried to 

build but still haven’t finished 

An Ode to B Minor melodies

About A Girl

pages have been stuck together because i didn't have anywhere to cum for a while
i guess you're used to me always using my dick as an excuse to not tell you the truth
haven't you noticed though i only choose to pull it out when the fog is thick
it has nothing to do with the bleach stains on your boots

i'm burning out cigarettes on my forearm
but nobody thinks i'm cool anymore when i do it

Tishomongo Blues

What I find interesting about the internet, is it can be kind of like a time capsule. Memories left to be buried and forgotten, only to be rediscovered again.

Here's something I wrote back for one in the select group of people I've come to always enjoy and cherish coming around and sharing stories with. One of the writer's on my wall:

Lit Djarums in a parking lot near a local park, on an uneventful summer where no one has had anything to do.
What do our impulses tell us? Get the hell out of here and go somewhere where time goes by quicker, and we don't have to worry about seeing people we'd rather avoid. Why? Because at home we feel uncomfortable in our own skin, and the sun doesn't seem to shine as bright as it used to around this part of the world. Not knowing where you're going has become more fulfilling than knowing where you have to stay. There's no one I'd rather explore blissful oblivion with more than S/he. I always ask myself whether she feels the same way. But of course I never ask. Sometimes it feels better to walk under the sun with your eyes closed. To feel a sensation and not know what it is. You can envision it to what you want it to be. To feel something and interpret it with no sense other than your imagination.
Where love roams freely in a state of wonder.

Franco Nero

Those who know me, know that I'm a cinephile. And when it comes to film, I'm a major Tarantino and Spaghetti Western enthusiast.

So you best believe that I basically busted a nut when I came across the knowledge of Tarantino's next project: Django Unchained.

It's basically a period piece that takes place in the midst of American Slavery in the 1800's. The story will be executed more like a genre film (spaghetti western to be exact), rather than a socio-political narrative that peels through layers of subtext like some of the Spike Lee Joints. Rumored attachments are Christoph Waltz, who I've grown more and more of a fan of ever since he nailed the Jew Hunter role in Inglorious Basterds. What really got me excited was the rumor that Tarantino will also be collaborating with Will Smith on this project as well, Smith playing the title role. And everyone knows Will Smith has done more than live up to the hype of his plethora of talents. And c'mon, Will Smith delivering Tarantino dialogue, it doesn't get any better than that.

I'm kind of curious whether the original Django by Sergio Corbucci has any influence on the final cut. Next to Once Upon a Time in the West and The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly, Django has got to be my second favorite Spaghetti Western of all time. If Tarantino were to get Ennio Morricone to do the score, I could see Django Unchained sparking this sort of Neo-Spaghetti Western movement, with Django Unchained surmounting the pile.

my imposter in the mirror has taken hold of the stirring wheel

Road Dogs

a symphony of so many lovers singing 

the same song off key trying to get me to clap along

I think I'd rather continue to binge on broken glass
 

The only time I tell the truth is when 

I'm bleeding through the mouth

It hasn't been too long since I've decided to be honest, as you could tell by my full set of teeth

the reluctant hands of 

time swerving off road scared 

to strike the falling of (h)our s(u/o)n
the imposter in the mirror 

is holding onto the stirring wheel 

and it's hard for me to admit 

that we've gotten closer 

to where we need to be ever since

... I guess I just have to come to terms and accept that sex is a lot better when you keep your clothes on

Bernards

hues of deja vu disguised as 

escape artists
smoking half smoked cigarettes off of 

the pavement where they probably pissed

i knew there was a reason to 

pick it up when I saw it was 

stained with that faithful shade of 

cheap lipstick

it was the first time the color red kept a 

promise I hoped it would keep
as you know, i'm trying to 

find every reason to wake up again
ever since I dug up that pile of 

distractions

        that I buried with my collection of clipped wings I discovered in a discarded 

lost and found basket on my trek of

                        “no tears left to give” trail

.357 grains