read my tumblr plzz

http://snorlaxbalog.tumblr.com/

I write in there a lot more than in here for some odd reason. 

I think it's time I start stepping up to people.  I really need to improve on my ability to tell people to "fuck off" while they're still pissing me off.
 

And like John, I wish I had better stuff to write on this shit hole.

So want an update?

Of course you don't...but here you go anyway.

I'm working two jobs (Leslie's Pool Supplies and Zumiez). Both are retarded and a pain in my ass but money is money and hopefully I can get some saving done this summer.  This past week, I worked about 40 hours and that was just at Leslie's.  There is an extra 5-6 hours for Zumiez in there. I've been exhausted.  All I do is sleep and go to the gym.  I hang with Patti and play guitar.  I don't even have the motivation to play video games or write...which I need to do more.  I haveso many ideas, but I wind up hating them afterwards. UGHHHH

The screenplay with John though is slowly developing into something amazing.  I am growing more and more in love with it as we progress.  I know people will love it.  Hopefully the right people do too haha :-\

I want to start a band sooooooo badly.  I want to play guitar.  I don't even care.   I just want to write my own music.  It has come to the point where I don't even care what kind of music it is.  People just suck and everything is impossible to work out.  Johnny and I were writing some cool stuff but we are just too busy.  Hopefully something works out.

I have barely gotten to the beach in this past month. fucking rain.

I need to get drunk and just relax.

strangest summer ever so far.

no care ever. 

The Eel and The Sword

I am nothing
I am everything
I am the absence of light at the bottom of the ocean
I am all of the dreams that never took flight

On the floor of the abyss I stand
Awaiting for new layers
New levels of volcanic life
Adding and adding to the Earth
Blankets of sand cover my feet
As my steps are frozen in time
Bubbles and bubbles of air
Columns of rising spheres
Tickling my spine
This new place is dark
What surprises await for me
In the chasms of coral castles

I am the slithering eel
I am the predator seeking that next meal
I am the falling star
I am the airplane plummeting to the ground

In the wells of our memories
Familiarity is nothing more than a safety net
New continents await
They slumber on the bursting horizons
Waiting for ink and daggers
To trace the lines and veins of maps
I stand alone in vast new territories
On the tops of planets as they are born
I do not know where I am
I am everywhere
I am nowhere
I am the silence before the explosion
This is now

I am the sword
Dragging behind the curious soldier
In awe of the aura of future greatness
In fear of the beasts that do not sleep
Entranced, Awake, Curious
I am the pioneers on the edge of everything
Death is only a necessary step when one is chosen
I am no longer afraid
Only curious
Searching for what may be next
What will be next
An eel of mysterious desperation
A sword of blatant strength
I will forge on
Doom will always be imminent
I will forge on
Fear is futile
Hope is barren
Survival is only required
At the depths of the oceans and the blackest regions of space
One can only wonder
One can only wonder.

The house will never be complete
As long as you are not laying on the steps
Awaiting my arrival
Waiting for the warmth of my hand
The love and affection of mom
The playful arms of my brother
And the watchful eyes of dad

You were the tiny pebble that will now be lost
To the depths of the oceans
To never ending skies
Painted in all spectrums of energy
You are that energy
The energy that filled this house with love
How can I ever reach you from here now?
How will I wrestle with you
Or chase you around the house?
Who will wait for me when I am not home?
Who will sleep between my legs in the early hours of morning?
Who will bark to get my attention?

How can I ever retrieve the love that is leaving?
How will this void be filled?
We will carry you home and place you in a different void.
Where the songs of the wind will play
Through the leaves of Japanese maples
They will sing you to sleep
I will carry you home
And I cannot fathom letting go
The arms of soil do not hold the heat and love that mine do
They are cold
I do not want you there
I want you here with me
I want to hold on and never let go
I will carry you home
I am selfish
You must rest
You must rest
You need to sleep

I will never forget
I will never forget

You are home in my heart
You are home with me
Always
I will always keep you warm
You will always keep me warm
You will always be on those steps
You will always be sleeping soundly
Between my legs in the dead of winter
You are home with me
You are home with me



I just wish my dog was ok. idk what to say. im burying this poem with her tomorrow.

The Autobiography of an American

I was immaculately conceived in the year 1975.  Before long, my parents realized I was an exceedingly bright child.  At the age of 2 I was enrolled in the 8th grade to help young teenagers with Algebra.  Before long, I had taught the entire 8th grade at my school everything there is to know about Algebra and Geometry.  Every night before going to bed I read 5 books and did 1000 practice problems to strengthen my skills in arithematic.  I was fluent in over 6 languages and I could read and interperet old English literature perfectly.

By the time I was 3 and a half I had just been potty trained and awarded the grand scholarship at Oxford Univesity.  My mother was apprehensive about allowing me to fly and live over seas, so she became my room mate.  Although I did not make many friends on campus, I excelled in my studies.  By the age of 6 I had surpassed all of the learning standards for every Calculus and Physics class available.  

Actually while I was in a Chemistry lab class one day, I stumbled upon the cure to A.I.D.S.  It just happened to be at the bottom of my test tube.  After that, it was apparent to myself and my family that I no longer needed school.  As I submitted my forms for dropping out of school, Harvard granted me a doctorate in any major of my choosing.  I chose English, Math, and Chemistry.  I am the only human being to have 3 actual doctorates by the age of 10.

After this, I took some time to relax and enjoy the money I had gained from my medical break-throughs and my book club for the 15 part novel series on the mysteries lying within black holes.  Not only did I win multiple prizes for these, but several shuttles and telescopes were named in my honor. 

I realized that I was the smartest human being alive in my age bracket, now 13; it was now time to make myself well rounded.  It was time to form my physical body.  After hiring a special team of Marines and Navy seals, I was bench pressing over 300 pounds by 15 and a half and squatting nearly 600 pounds.  I only weighed 150 pounds and I lived on a diet of boiled chicken and brocoli.  I enterred the Mr. Universe contest by 17 and I won it, seven years in a row. 

By this time I had become the strongest and most intelligent man on the planet.  All of my friends were in their 30's and we spendt our days playing rugby and sky diving.  We would spear fish on the weekends.  In one incident in Hawaii, my friend began to get mauled by a 15 foot tiger shark.  I saw this and tried to help as fast as I could.  I grabbed the shark's nose and tail and split him in half, I was too late to help my friend but not too late to get awarded the Key of the City. I had had tens of thousands of sexual relationships and my body had now miraculously become immune to sexually transmitted diseases.  I winked at girls at parites and they immediately began beckoning me to the ladies' rooms.  I had become more popular than God and was slowly surpassing air.  I needed a break from the excitement.

I moved to the Himalayas where I built myself a log cabin at the peak of Mount Everest.  I lived there and lived on grizzly bears.  I hunted them every morning and wrestled them until I had broken their necks.  This usually took me 5 minutes.  I insolated my house with bear fur and fat and after eating, I would sleep for about 10 hours.  Whenever I would become bored on the mountain I would meditate and then climb up and down the scales of Everest whil timing myself.  My best records was 10 trips (up and down the mountain side) in about 2 hours.  After sleeping for about a week after that, I decided it was time to move back to America.

When I moved back home, I was now 35.  I had achieved everything I wanted in life, so now it was time to start a family.  I moved to Utah and became a member of the Church of Latter Day Saints.  I became head of the church by the age of 36, which was right after I married my 15th wife.  I was the father of about 300 children with my 20 wives.  Every night we would all sit together in my stadium sized living room while I read them all bed time stories.  There were multiple investigations on my family done by the FBI due to my world fame but unsurprisngly I made the agents assigned to my case disappear.

At the age of 37, my religion and life choices began to cause me become disliked in the eyes of the media.  My money was slowly running out due to the massive bills I had to pay for my family.  I began to smoke cigarettes while paying the bills every night.  And I would pray every night before going to sleep.  I knew God was listening and that he would help me get through this rough patch in my life.  On my 38th birthday I died from lung cancer.   

Asleep in a Blanket of Stars

I found you
In your cocoon
Of twisted metal and blankets
A year's worth of life

I found you
Breathing heavily
Trapped under the stars
Miles of silence

I found you
Bathing in a haze
Of steaming anti-freeze
And dripping gasoline

I found you 
Almost dead
Asleep in a world of dreams
Where demons cannot reach
Where you were safe 
But not safe enough
If God was real,
He would have been on those firetrucks
He would have been in the ambulances
And He would have carried the jaws of life
He would have gone to the graduation 
The graduation you would not see

I found you 
In the unforgiving arms of a tree
And I will never know if I did enough
What could have I done
What do I do now?
You are etched into the walls of my skull
I will forever see those legs buried under the sea of metal and cloth
I will hear your breathing
The battle of your lungs will be ever present in the constant humming of my ears
And I will remember the technicolor of siren lights painting your bruised canvas
The fire trucks and the backboard
The ambulance and the police cars
The rustle and bustle  of rescue
Only to fail hours later
I stood and watched as a life was strained to be saved
As a boy was rescued
Only in vain
Why did I find him?
What were the chances?
A boy from my school, 
In my town
Dying on the dark summer road

I found him
In a bed of broken glass
Wrapped in a blanket of stars and branches
I found him dying
They found him dying
They saved him from the crushing pounds of sleep and dreams
The next morning
The nurses found him dead 
I was too late.
We were too late.


This is for Dan Buckowitz.  I didn't even know this kid but I found him in his crashed car the other night, I called the cops and watched as police, firemen, and paramedics rescued him  and apparently he died the next morning.  He must have fallen asleep behind the wheel and slammed into a tree; his luggage in his car hit him in the back of the head when he hit the tree causing him to receive spinal failure.  I was one of the people to find him.  We had so much in common and I found him in Howell.  He went to my college and he was supposed to graduate tomorrow.  I am so bothered by this incident.  I'll never forget finding the accident and hearing him struggling to breath inside the car.  I'm sorry Dan.

Blue ribbons and raddles stained in blood
The crib of predestination now useless
The tiny hands now vanishing
And forming skin only to be purged
Organs and cells malfunctioning
Exponentially
The dreams of happiness now soiled
By the ways of nature
An end of expectancy and joy
Begin misery
Wallow in it
Tears of pain paint lines of frustration
Shades drawn and blankets watinging
Begin hibernation
Hide from it
The blood and the bathroom
The crying and the screaming
The agony and the horror
What did you do?
An end of an era
The blood and the bathroom
The loss of that precious pearl
A room in a house now full of lost hope
The purging of happiness from a body
The purging of a future
What is one to do?

In Mathematical Summation of Myself

I am the addition of troubles
The subtraction of happiness
The multiplication of complications
The division of emotions
The fraction of chaste,
With no common denominator
And the square root of all of your misery
Prepare for a repeated decimal answer
Prepare for frustration
Prepare for disappointment

"I am almost certain that there is no 'God'.  But if there is, then I am nothing like him."

Delicious.