May 2013
31 posts
Packing.
Packing. Packing. Packing. Yup. Home on wednesday. New york on friday. Chicago in july. Shows in june. Tis gunna be a frapptastic summer..
I met my soulmate at Massart.
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jesus
ive come to terms with myself that the jesus painting just isnt working well.
i started it out of spite of my own anger about the all school show, and it wasnt an act of passion. it was an act of anger and spite. so i started gold leafing over his face because now all thats left is his head, and then i run out of gold leaf sheets. damnit.
im also second guessing my style. its not academic,...
i wished i wasnt so alone here...
Im tired, and i kinda wished i wasnt the only one in my studio fr hours on end.
i need someone to entertain me for a while. im bored.
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Gogol Bordello →
zephray:
He is the man
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?
Sometime wonder if assholes and cunts are the way they are because they dont shit enough.
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April 2013
26 posts
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Sex Pistols - Friggin' In The Riggin' - Lyrics →
It had to be done xD
Sex Pistols- Friggen in the Riggen.
Because it’s that kind of night tonight.
waaaa
Excuse while I just go drink a beer and Soju Vodka and ball my eyes out in trauma and relief.
My god what a fucking week. Never again. Ever. Again.
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My Day After
The sirens make me sick,
To hear them makes me cringe,
I don’t understand,
This cruel act of humanity.
Injured a hundred in one prick,
Burned and wounded down to the last hair fringe,
The pain to lose a hand,
Was the inner pain of insanity.
An unknown killer to kick,
Like his victims he should be singed,
Like ball bearings to sand,
Paradise to sin city.
Our days are...
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Boston... Marathon
Everytime i hear a siren, i just feel so sick… i just feel so paralyzed. because i know where those ambulances are going, and i know that my body froze up and i was physically incapable of doing anything this morning for a reason, for my subconcious ESP mind to keep me safe. because honestly, those bombs were where i stand every year, and to know that all these people were there and are...
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Letter to Him
How nice you are,
you brought me horribly far,
but on the seventh,
my body and mind were afar.
I can’t begin to tell you,
my friends were just a few,
glad we didn’t make it to the tenth,
that one night was my cue to get rid of you.
Happiness is partially restored,
i can’t say i’m mad and bored,
me and him were meant,
so i keep plugging along and...
I’m not crazy about reality, but it’s still the only place to get a decent meal.
– Groucho Marx (via paperimages)