this is what me and peyton watch together:

this modern love

I'm not in the best mood and i'm pretty tired and stressed. But I do have one thing to say:

I hung out with Peyton.

And that pretty much translates to:

I had a fucking awesome day and can't wait until friday/the next day that we can hangout because every single time it's super.

PS.
She's really pretty

I'ma let you finish buuuuut

I got the best gurl in da hole wide wurld.

List of what I did today:


11:15 - Simon, "TIME TO GET UP DAKOTA"

11:30 - I get up, "whens my basketball game?"
Simon, "gotta be there at 1.."

12:30 - Looking for stuff , "where are my basketball shorts........."

1:15 - Basketball game. I didn't mention that I forgot to eat or drink anything.

3:00 - Finish the game. Go home. Lay down.

3:30 - Mom writes on my Facebook wall telling me to take out the garbage. I respond telling her that I do not feel well and she gets mad.

5:20 - I get up and go to the bathroom. I hear my mom yell my name to get me to do whatever she wanted me to..

5:23 - I got downstairs and she tells me that I needed to take out the garbage and recycling. I responded, like a smart-ass, "you do know in the two hours that i was in my room asleep you could have taken it out..."

5:24 - Mom loses her shit.

5:25 - I take out the garbage and recycling.

5:30 - I come back in and my mom is watiting for me on the way up stairs and she asks me about my papers and I say something vague...She said something else about getting them done or else I would lose the laptop and I, again like a smart-ass, said "Well I guess you're getting yourself a laptop."

5:31 - I try to go upstairs but mom blocks my way. She gives me some shit about responsibility, i've forgotten by now. But then she says, "and you can't see your girlfriend except for at school"

And I fucking lost the plot. She saw it too and backed up. So I pushed my way upstairs because I wasn't going to hear anything else, through my mom, and she got pissed about that.

So she gave me some shit about how ungrateful I am and I pulled the "you're the one who raised me, i had a good teacher" and she said "i hope you're proud of yourself,"

"Very." And then I slammed the door shut.

5:35 - I go to sleep. There is nothing to do in my room at this point because she took the laptop.

7:30 - I go downstairs after sending peyton a couple texts that were really vague. I bargained with my mom that I'd get my papers done if I could see my girlfriend and after about 10 minutes she said okay.

And that was my day.

The world that you need is wrapped in gold, silver sleeve

Definitely a super night.
Anyday you can be someone happy is a day well spent.
There's going to be a ton of days well spent

We make our faith in what we see

Dakota Blue

Charlie sat at the edge of his dock, against his cherished Viking yacht. He thought to himself about his wifes.

Those bitches could probably get shot with the harpoon gun and no one would notice, not even the kids, not that it would matter should they take realize.

He puffed on his cigar and walked the short distance up the boarding ramp, he needed a drink. He opened the door to the bar and shooed away Matilda, his fourth wife.

Get me a brandy, whore!

He laughed voraciously as if he would let anyone else get his drink; he went behind the bar to fix it. The dog was in its keep, as he always was. ‘Chaplin’ was its name and it was deaf. But withered and wrought wry by the sea, he understood body language better than most humans. Chaplin was the only creature that Charlie cared for on the yacht.
Fuck those bitches, all they care about is my money, I’ll get ‘em shitfaced and break their faces…It's not like anyone needs to look at them…

He took another sip of brandy and poured a cup for Chaplin.

My goddamn harpoon gun hasn’t been used in years…I bet that would go through them like a hot knife through butter. Even better if they were in a row, how could that be arranged? A conga line, possibly. I’ll have a grand party! Usher the kids off the boat; get all my ducks in a row…

He chuckled at his joke.

…and then I’ll shoot them all with my harpoon gun.

He stumbled to bed content with his idea.
Charlie awoke to his dog adjusting his position under the covers. He grumbled something he’d picked up in Wales and rung the bell. Dzamila came to the door, just like every morning.
Dzamila? Get Janice, I need to plan something. And also,

Yes?

--don’t fucking interrupt me—I need some tea.
She left, much to his delight. It wasn’t long before Janice arrived; he had just begun to start dozing off.

Aye: Janice. I need to plan a party with lots of conga drums and lines.

Yes.

This means that you need to get all of the girls together and each find something in the storage closet for you all to wear. I want it to be tonight and I want it to be excellent. Send the kids to Jacob at the house.

Yes, would you like food and drinks?

Well, we don’t need drinks, it’ll be held on the first floor with the bar room on it. Foods… get a couple chickens from around the dock.

He beckoned for her to leave and swiftly returned his dreaming. He woke up later to find it was midday. Chaplin licked his face and laid his head back down while Charlie got up and put on cologne to make up for his lack of hygiene. The party would be soon and he needed to check on his lovely harpoon gun.
Charlie went down to the engine room where he knew the gun to be. He opened its case after unlocking it with several keys. His eyes widened as he realized how fulfilling it felt to see the weapon that would end all of his suffering, swearing a couple times.

He took it back to his cabin and prepared to clean it. No bitch of his would clean his prized weapon. He carefully took the oil and did the gears. The rope would be unimportant as he did not seek to catch anything, but it seemed to be intact. Everything was to plan. He dropped a floor to the bar and got a couple more brandies.

Dzamila was back from the storage room with the rest of his wifes,

The occasion is near, Charlie.

She advanced upon him; he was sat in a chair with his brandy. Dzamila flung herself at him, taking off her clothes and rubbing herself all over him. He slew his drink at her!

What are you doing!!!! I did not ask for anything. Depart at once before I have to cancel the whole party…

He had trouble containing his laughter, there would be no cancellation.

Exx-cuse my insolence, Mr. Charlie…I will be with the others on the deck.

He heard music going, tropical just like he wanted.

When Charlie got to the deck, Chaplin soon came to his feet, circling him a few times and staying by his side. The wifes were all sat down on the long wooden bench.

Get up! Let us dance!

His sixteen wifes got up and started to move around awkwardly.

Dance together! A conga line if you want!

He went upstairs to get his harpoon gun. Noone saw him, it would be clean.

The wifes had assembled in the straight conga line, just like he wanted.
He aimed his harpoon gun at the back of the line. He fired and instantly all of the wifes went limp. They hung like marionettes on the rope, a clean bullet-like assault.

Feeling accomplished he sat down the harpoon gun in the case and went to the bar to get a brandy.

Let's do something real

We, you and me what is said wasn't never meant to hurt,
Real stories always Was off worse
Can we make the time to leave it behind and reshape, remake our faith in what we see, how you feel so unsteady,
I'm already out of reach, remember finding your feet,
In a fine time, take the time to find me,


Today:

Was most excellent. I hung out with Peytoohn for the first time in about a week + 1 day and it was swell.
i figure since its my blog, i'll blog about that.

Well, we met up at ze Market Building around 1 and had previously decided to go on a photo expedition (thanks for Firefox for spelling). So we headed off to the Crystal Bridge, like always, and took a couple 'o photos of that and such.

Then we went to the Hotel Roanoke with all the rich tourists and such and we explored that too. First we went around to the bathroom part and then to the hallway with the elevator that we didn't go down.
Then the oval room with the hole in the floor and then we went back to the main area kinda.
WE WENT UP FUCKING POCAHONTAS' HALLWAY
and then we found the pitcher in the courtyard. We filled that motherfucker with some premium ground ice and proceeded to walk back to the market building.

So, if you're reading this, you're probably thinking, "wtf do you do with a pitcher of ice?"
Well my friend, you fill that MoFoKer with some soda and start eating. And that's exactly what I did, with Peyton's help.

So I sat there, in the market building, eating on that sucker. People grittin' really hard and shit. So we went outside naturally to let more people see.

We went around the back of the market so we could go to our chill spot up @ Roanoke catholic. But we got sidetracked around the back of the bus station and I put the pitcher of soda up in one of those crevices between two buildings, up on a metal pipe. It was the most sketchy thing I had ever seen, to be honest.

After that we got some butterscotch gum and went up to catholic.
@Catholic we played at the playground for about an hour and a half (which was pretty damn amazing) and then we went back down to downtown through hotel Roanoke and the crystal bridge, got some food and went to the taubman.

^^Elevators are really erotic.

@Ze Taubman we took pictahs of their pictures and shit and it was legit. Then we coloured in the kid's section until about 5 when Peytuhn left.

And that was that.

1:36:02

That was definately the longest/best phone convo in about two years.



tommorow will be swell like no other, legitamate GETTING FUCKING CHINESE FOOD. Making a Mix CD right now fo my girl

Holy shit. Undescribable. (:

Will update with somehting better and more meaningful later.

Happy

Christmas --almost.

I am super duper fortunate and realize that, so thank you Jesus Christ my saviour <3 <3

Tommorow I might be able to go to Sebastian's house, and that would be swell.

Dear:

He wants to send you drawings

Drawings of men with faithful hands, they'll make such good boyfriends.

Because I have nothing else to publish rigght now, and becuase I got a super duper swell comment on my last one, I'ma put a story up.\



The boat left the shore, not looking back, not a fledgling left behind. The harbor was safe, but that is not what ships are made for.

The ocean’s waves heaved, waxed and waned with relentless unrecognizable patterns. In a sense, it was frivolous to check which way was north, everything was going south. The lone inhabitant had no experience, real experience that is, of manning a vessel. The starboard could have been something for astrologists, whatever those type were.

The country had changed; and the people had changed with it. Just like the waves they came and went. He didn’t want to bother anybody, there was enough of that. But the two cents he gave to any willing soul, proved to be a saving grace.

Tom Joad. He had reveled in the sight of his new name, Timothy B. White. The ‘B’ stood for Baker but he was not a chef. He stretched out his arms, with the hammock under his back, not hung but used as a softener to the hardwood deck. He found himself dangling over a pile of cords. He swore under his breath as he saw a rat scurry behind the rope. He heard a yell, jumped up and swore again. He had thought he was the only person on the boat.

He took in the sight of the ship, the masts, the bow, the white-black, colour-blind feel of a tugboat. But it was bigger than he had previously thought.


There was no cabin,

There were no sails,

There were no seagulls,

There were no animals at all, actually,

Come to think of it,

There wasn’t much of anything. There were toboggan hats and slippers.

The voice hadn’t stopped; it wasn’t so much an annoying call as it was an ambient sound to him. In fact, what was sound if not ambient. He who let sound pierce him would find sorrow, as piercing is a poor idea, bad blood around that pool of thought.

War. War was nothing but ambient now, also. We make war so that we may have peace: the reasoning was faulty. Take the world, make it into any polygon and pull out any given edge, it shall have been touched by war. Only the waters hadn’t been touched by war, well, not all of them.

Ambiguity was what floated in the water, diluted throughout; polluting the minds, the solution an obvious and swift ‘no’. The sun wasn’t a colour and neither was the moon, not that he could see the moon. He would have a say about that, no doubt. He craved a dumpling, just a sample of the sweet, simple morsel.

No.

And for the lack of the morsel, he heard the sound of it.

Just like a good radio show, back in the perpetual wasteland. England, USA…Kansas, Oregon, Oklahoma, California, Fresno, Mexico, Gold.

He had found the gold, all in the good time he made also. It enabled him the fortunes he hadn’t required unless the lack of the golden bars was prevalent.

There they were! The butterflies! How pretty they were in the soft Sunday light: the Sun shining through like stained glass. Best not to call them back, he wondered. His stomach growled, though he had just eaten. He chuckled and watched the butterflies carry on their journey in the same direction as the boat, just quicker.

God, which is it now,
the voices intensified to a choral allegiance,
Breaking stride only to admire the butterflies, they passed quite a while ago.
The voices intensified, one stopped, one began, two stopped, one began: impossible to tell at this point. From where did they come, those voices! Capable yet culpable for every minute of pain and sorrow; draw my sword, my gun, my gun? Fish for the body in the hazy stream! We arrive! My liege, I am but a humble man, please, what is your take on the trip? Was it enjoyable?

Baker was wrought like an iron gate, fearfully.

The conversation was nigh, he could have talked someone to death, but that wasn’t possible right now. All he did was give his two cents and carry forth.

But he didn’t get distraught when he caught sight of the waving carriage, there was a bouquet of Roses on them.

And he wasn’t upset at the soldiers,

But the rattlers, the snakes, the cacti, the urchins, the rats, the despicable filth; he spit on.

He condensed his saliva. He stopped short of the deed against the underlings. He didn’t want any trouble in his new home, though he had seen every face before.

A chariot was visible on the horizon, Baker had seen him before, on the boat ride. A pond lingered before him, he gazed down at himself. No reflection, just a man without a face. He had forgotten his toboggan hat!

Baker sprinted back to the dock, the shore. The ferry had yet to depart for the mainland once again, but the Captain of the river asked for only one thing from Timothy B. White, “Do you have your two cents?”

Even though I haven't seen you in years

yours is a funeral, I'd fly to from anywhere.


I wrote a creative story!


Untitled yo

The riptide pulled her out to sea and I stood there, in the wake, awoken. The water had no colour and the sky only held fury. Her yells were drowned out in the same manner she would be in a matter of hours. No regrets, I told myself. I would walk back to the air strip and sit down; it was only a twelve minute trot. Fishing for the marlin of the ocean of my remorseful thoughts, I found nothing. Only nothing.

No emotion at all, that must mean more than nothing.

But there was going to be a place to lay my head eventually but looking for it would take too long so I’ll rest here. But the ideals that I convey are too much; I’ll make a note of it now.

It’s hot, roasting even. I remember the utopiatic, opiatic state you were in. Maybe I can hate you for that. But if you were to be considered the abuser of the opiates in your utopia, I was the poppy farmer, the diligent hardworking proletariat.

YOU DIDN’T LOOK AT ME THAT WAY…

I was no messiah on your vessel. The ambiguous nature about me was what only kept me around. Confusion was your enemy.

We caste our own class, after all, it was our sanctity. Who were they to stop us? Or even, who were they for us? What a joke it was, but how I wish I didn’t participate in the laughter.

We had no father, no guardian. But that is the least to say that we had no help, we had plenty. My own varied; school was arbitrary in my residence. At least I had meaning to where I was located, you on the other hand. Had nothing to do with anything ever, it’s almost as if when you needed to exist, you did, for your own reasons, your own validations. Maybe if I spurred myself on, likeyouwereableto, I could have superseded my own fate, likeyouwereableto.

But none of that matters, right? All that did was your idea. Of which, I was able to extrapolate my own place, palace in.

A KINGDOM FIT FOR KINGS.

It read. But to no one but us, it didn’t read the same. It singed in the places you folded it, a clear description. Obvious really, almost.

But in searching for your own personal El Dorado, you found a limitation.

I was never informed, but it was apparent as well as hidden, it took a great locksmith to chisel his way through your keep.

Utopia:
not an ocean’s riptide.

And every lightening rod

has got to watch the storm cloud, come.

random questions (:

answer with the truth!
how much change do you have with you right now?	like, a ton for the bus.
favorite color?	purple/blue
who is the last person you cuddled with?	peyton (and tai)
last thing you put in your mouth?	coffee
what is the cutest thing in the room with you right now?	my HIV microbe doll
what color hair do you prefer on the opposite sex?	idfc
are you good at ddr?	no
whats your favorite band that starts with "a" or "the" ?	The New Pornographers?
last person you talked to on the phone?	Payuhtuhn
do you use myspace apps?	i accumulate money endlessly on mafiawars
what level can you play on guitar hero?	easy?
last time you smiled?	earlier
do you still talk to your first best friend?	actually, i do.
whats your favorite flavor of poptarts?	blueb erry
last place you slept besides your bed?	tais guest cottage?
what is your myspace mood right now, and why?	fuckifiknow
what do you want to say to someone that you can't say to their face?	i say what i need to
have you ever shot a gun?	no i am afraid
do you go on youtube?	yeah, all the time
favorite place to shop at?	printworks!
what kind of shoes do you wear most often?	LOAFERS NOW
what instant messaging service do you use?	AIM
first job?	camp counsuhloor
do you know anyone with the same phone as you?	nope
last book you read?	Eclipse
what are you listening to?	I'm Sorry I Sang On Your Hands That Must Have Been In The Grave
what are your siblings doing right now?	Idk yo
closest thing to you that is orange?	my quilt
have you ever liked someone and never told them?	proabbly
are your toenails painted?	no
are you allowed to have myspace or are you hiding it?	OH NOES U FOUND ME
what do you think of the last person that commented you?	fack if i know
last bad thing you did?	:\
is there someone you just can't stand, for no reason?	definately
how do you say "bye" on IM?	ciao, peace, bye

Palm Reader:

Yellow Palms = lightening
Peachy Palms = James and the Giant Peach
Green Skin = something green


I can read peoples palms!@

edit:

You know when you have that feeling that everything is gonna go to plan?
^^

Something Artistic:

Right now:

I would kill to make something artistic.
Woo.

5 Feet of Snow!

Fuckin' best song ever, Miami horror bitchessssssszzzsdezsdzsd.

But seriously, there is too much f00king snow. I mean, I'm all for it and shit but when you can't drive somewhere, someone's gonna get mad. Notably me.


I'm really bored so I'ma do a stream of consciousness. I think pretty mcuh everything I see and hear effects me in terms of what I think, so I'll give a checklist of stuff.

Visual:

• Two speakers with a bunch of paper behind them and two tin cans in the middle.
• This laptop.
• LED Jesus
• Phone
• Film photos
• CD stacks
• Khaki pants
• Nautica shirt [PoV]
• Phone
• Camera
• Record player/stereo system
• Plate
• Nautica scarf.

Audio:

• Why? - Good Friday
• Aristocats movie
• Babies talking
• Mom and Simon talking

Okay with that taken care of, STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESSSSSSSSS

Wikipedia, mice, moose, hands, lights, spelling, fishing on the ocean, vibrations, sleep, euphoria, spiders, reflections, Jesus Christ,

• interlude...my brother won't stop talking.
• Why? - Gnashville

Crawdads, rivers, yellow park, gnashville, nashville, peyton/forrest, IC, icky, rivers, desertr cracked sands, eviction otice stuffo n the street first class plane ridesdads aunts family redicule ALCOHOL popetryLSDACIDEXSTACT stacys mom fucking top40 m\\iusioc, old brrittle people,

showm e the best thaty ou got and io'll show you one better

show me your reeddest rose and i'll show you one redder

tell me a dirty joke andi 'll laugh it off lightly

i'll tell you a dirty joke and myou might not like me.....

/End Stream of Consciousness

Man, that shit is wierd as hell. It's all mind over matter at that point, i think. I mean, all i remmeber about the 'stream of consciousness' when i was doing it was that i couldn't see anything [i closed my eyes] and i could hear my songs. Man, I was so into it that I didn't have any other senses in memory...

F00k D00d

FACK FACK FACK FACK FACK FACK FACK

Want to hear a story? Well then HOLYSHIT do I have one for you.

Well, today Tai and I were going to have a party. But me and Peyton were the only ones other than Tai who were there, due to the 'getting out of school @ 12' and all.



So me and Peyton hung out at Tai's house for a while, probably like 4 or 5 hours and that was super duper cool, most definately the best thing this week.

But after she left, I wanted to play my fucking PSP and all those motherfuckers [Ellis, Tai and Forrest] wanted to get walkin.

I was literally like, "WTFNO.
"ENDOFSTORYWTFNO."

But 3v1 usually wins in the favour of the three, so we started walking. Ellis, little did I know, took the bourban and put it in his bag.

So we start walkin and halfway down the street, Tai like the drunk MoFoKer he was, started crying saying, "Hayyuks,, guyhzujzz I dunnnklt't ffeassal so goood guyzsz"

Literally, like that.

Well, I grappled his shoulder and helped him walk for a while before he started to wheeze and shit, like intoxicated people do, you know. This went on for a while before we met up with Austin Platinga or whatever his name is and Forrest started to snowb0ard and shit.

Well, we walked up to behind the police station (cue idiot idea) and sat down so Ellis could FUCKING DRINK MY BOURBAN.

Then, these cops come up and Tai, who's been crying and shit because hes fucking shitefaced, says, "no officer I have not been drunking.."

Ellis tried to pull out some legal shit and I was telling him to, "Shut the fuck up Ellis, they've got probable cause.."

So, long story short we called Tai's dad because he was the closest house and got driven there. We called Ellis' mom who then asked the officer to drive Ellis home..

Tai was screwed up the whole time, even after the officers left and then I left, went home.

Nothing happenned to me.

It was a stressful ass ending to an awesome day.

I sleep on my back cause it's good for the spine and coffin rehersal

are you a female young messiah for stowaways in dugouts

or are you giving me a dirty lookin the rear view

twenty five carved with a butter knife

on the palm of my new hand

it's out you're mostly what i think about

Hipster music :\

Fanning--Manning

So I was chillin with my homie Ellis today, we came downtown and called up Peyton and got to chillin' with her.

A short summary before the reeal deal:

We went to the Taubman and drew some stuff, most notably a picture of Ellis, Dakota and Peyton.

We went to the crystal bridge and then hung out there, and then walked Ellis to his bus.

Ellis left and me and Peyton went up to the top of the parking garage and looked around at the cityscape.

Okay, so then we decieded to go get baptized at the Cathedral! So we started to walk/bike down to the big ass church but then we thought, hey, Aiesha lives here.

So we went with Aiesha to a tenent party where she asked me to get her some Rum and Coke but I didn't want to...so I didn't because i'm not her bitch.

Then we walked Aiesha home and went to the Cathedral.

The motherfucking House of God was closed so we went to the playground and started to watch the highway and the civic centre and holyshit, it was or-fucking-gasmic.

I started to fucking orgasm all over the ground and shit, I was like a fucking pig and their 30 minute gasms. The voluptuous corners and the tempting window panes were what got me the most hot