I’m JUST SO SICK OF SPAM

GHADBJ;BDFJA ‘

Its just so confusing. The other day i said to some friends

“Hey I bet it will be this hot tommorow, lets go to the beach”

“Yeah it’s going to be hot, but overcast, Lets do it some other day”

So I wake up the next morning and it’s hot, and sunny.

I think there needs to be some sort of alarm for good weather.

If it’s good weather, the alarm goes off and work is called off, everyone goes to the beach.

I’m just so incredibly sick of sitting in my room doing work while it’s steaming hot outside.

The trouble with people supporting cheap crappy music is that the people making this music aren’t thinking about music as an art anymore. Now you’ve got to grab attention quickly with pretty people, or outlandish language. The musicians who are in it to honour the art give up because there’s too much competition from the music that requires no effort. Music can’t advance if people just buy the shit that looks good.

I haven’t written on here in a while. It’s weird, I don’t really feel comfortable divulging my thoughts with the public anymore.

The ‘public’ is much too judgmental, and leaves little room for mistakes.

So I’m just going to inform you of a few observations I have made.

I won’t get all angry on yo ass :)

Without school, my english is terrible, I don’t know what makes someone a ‘good’ writer, but I do know, that to start off with, they should at least have sufficient grammar, I lack there.

I’ve stopped thinking. Or at least, I think about silly things like fashion or I worry about things.

Something I should stop doing is worry.

I should also stop advising people on how to live there life.

well, I have little to say.

I’ll think of a subject that I will then go into detail and research, I do crave a bit of a social/human-rights/philosophical debate.

any ideas for topics?

People like good coffee.

People like a good story.

People like the colour blue.

People like  to feel wanted

people like money.

It hasn’t rained here in a while 

If rain is as a cleanser of infectious diseases and memories

For I dream of the rapids and their violent thunder 

Smashing heads against rocks, so as to wipe away their past

When it rains the sky will be a window

Rain is a dream

For in sleep I find no peace

but rain is only  a dream, that never shows here with dryness in the soil 

and I wish to rid this rock that keeps falling on me 

when it rains, no rocks will remain

When it rains, my mind will be clear 

No tales will haunt me 

No old stories

Just new hope 

When it rains, I know it will come down with the sun blazing in full glory

And when it rains my mind will be empty and pure

And nothing will have tainted it 

And no one will be there

if there were people, they wouldn’t exist 

for all you can see and hear is rain

the rain will ring loud and clear 

no bitterness

just rain

as a soldier, who once marched

lies in the snow and surrenders his weapons.

That shivering in the morning
everything manages to get wet;

Doors slam.
The hand of winter enters the house
A frozen cold whisper tickles feet
Reaching through the floorboards
Traveling up the walls, shaking them as they move
The house quivers in the morning
The rain could carry the house across the sea
In the bathroom, the morning socks are dampened and the cold pierces skin.
The day moves too fast.

In the winter it’s more evident
People become empty vessels
fast moving objects
only talking for their own motives

mostly talking of the cold
work
and sleep
and then moving to the next empty vessel, filling it up with tiresome talk of their late nights and drinking habits
then briskly moving on
for it’s too cold to wait around
and you can’t really hear what they’re saying
for the wind is too strong
and even then, all you can think of is the water in your shoes
the water in your shoes
the water in your shoes

go now my pretties