I'm always wrong; I'm always right

Ramblings about life, hopes, games, and dreams.

[t-m--l-blog]

We're the kind of people you see on the news, "Gee, maybe they should have turned their life around." "He had so much potential, and he threw it all away." We don't have permanence, some fraction of belonging in the world that makes us silent semi-outsiders, somewhere between 'here' and 'there', based on the self-imposed impulsive definition of those two words that the meaning seems to disappear entirely, some eerie sense-making interest, witnessed by a passerby as they rocket towards a building-that which is a house, made to order.

Just a box of cards, in a box, alone together.

[t-m--l-blog]

The animal within the large salami has lost control.

Villains are always more pretentious than I am

A nice, quick pulse threatening to wriggle out of your eyes and nose and into your left nail, where it'll make a home, build a family, and be more successful in all that it does than you could have ever hoped for in a child. You'll watch it win its first basketball game and become semi-pro, moving upwards in schools, getting ass and titties titties ass and titties- a protege trying to push out of its lane into something better, a mirror image of a carnal desire to expand.

And don't forget it.

[t-m--l-blog]

Like-minded.

Holiday-style candies, covered in caramel. An underwhelming day on a Ferris wheel. Pretty Bird, why are you so still?

A toe fungus falling far away from the tree. Slow dances to fast beats.

Getting called out for lying, and being the outlier of a group. I'd take death over either of those.

[t-m--l-blog]

A heart beats free in the arms of love.

Bullshit.  Hypocritical, dickwaving, dickless anti-sonuvabitch.

Try it again, prove me right. It's your move, make it a good one. My bet is that you need more than just duct tape to hold that heart of yours together, and the starlight won't absorb your so-called crimes against your friends, but I would've lit up the sky for you.

So turn away, prove me right, embittered and emblazoned.

But who am I kidding? I love kicking myself in the head over the feelings I still have for you, entrenched in some war within my mind, deadlocked like rush hour in the river Styx. I'd much rather watch it die, but it'll outlive a lot of my passions I suppose.

if only i hadnt caused you to turn away in the first place-but was it all me?

[t-m--l-blog]

[t-m--l-blog]

Collarbone

A moldy pillow in the dreary weather, persevering more than the most rugged outdoorsman. Not out of choice, mind you, but because the winter was too dreary, and a rainbow pillow covered in snow looks a lot better than white-on-white with the occasional brown shape of a tree.

The itching continues, and it's like watching a horror movie during an anxiety episode. It won't stop, the scratch marks feel more like day-old sunburns than bites, and it reminds me of some sort of fileting in a cooking show, only the fish is still in the tank, and the fileting is happening at a rate which even one's great-grandfather could appreciate as a long-ass time. Little scars, pockmarking the flesh like an orange left out just a little too long. And meanwhile, people less interesting than I are making a killing doing absolutely nothing. Poetic justice is hilariously imbalanced, they need to get the design team on this one already.

[t-m--l-blog]

But I let you down

The people should know. They shouldn't be kept from this. They should- and would love to- run with it.

A gleaming set of eyes light up the darkness, but it's a blackness that wasn't meant to be pierced take it away turn the light off please now before it starts again the mistake which wasn't meant to be but became unforgivable as soon as it became real as a brand new shiny sack of potatoes- here's the keys, son.

[t-m--l-blog]

Ears

This might laugh at you as you look the other way. It could just as easily come in for a kiss, or brush against you on a crowded sidewalk.

I'll find you again. Dye your eyebrows, pluck your teeth, slough your skin, make a statement, but run with it like a kite in a windstorm, a spoonful of jello on a far-too-humid day.

And it'll trim your toes, an itch down your arm which no longer exists, phantoms dancing together, depriving you of your wits.

[t-m--l-blog]

[t-m--l-blog]

It is not sufficient that I should succeed, it is necessary that someone else should fail.

[theblacknessofmysoulconsume-blog]

LINK IN PARK - THESE WOUNDS

[t-m--l-blog]

Life in the club

I have a lot of fun with these guys :3

[t-m--l-blog]

For whom do I live?

For nobody important, and it's freeing as fuck. Living on my own time is pretty fucking rad.

[t-m--l-blog]

Lotus petals for breakfast, bicycle pedals for lunch.

For whom do I live? 'Tis a very good question. It haunts me night after night. Never ever nope not once

[boobs-and-champagne-deactivated]

[fancypaperhats-blog]

back to making comics

well, I’m done with my temporary hiatus now, so expect a few more comics to be released in the coming day. Remember, if you like what you see, make sure to follow this blog… ‘cause there’ll probably be more stuff that is relevant to your interests.

[t-m--l-blog]

Zzz Veraein really bad at tagging reblogging for interest

[t-m--l-blog]

Ten, sixteen, ten.

It still lives, like the neverending cycle of a parasite and the host it consumes. I wonder now where the two were on that date, was it just a fleeting moment, passing by unawares like so many others? I of course, didn't let it slip by, but words had-and will continue to- failed me. It's not once one stumbles so immensely when around another, nor is it something I've been able to overcome. It still rides my thoughts every day, the should-have-beens and the ramifications they hold. The deepest part of me wants to scream at myself, and does every second of every hour of every day, and has for these past months- nay, over a year now. 

Des-Tiny, will you conquer me, or shall you be conqured?