Halogen Bowel Movement

she bathes in marriage embers and thoughtful notes attached to corpses
corpses too attached notes thoughtful and embers marriage in bathes she
marked men sign clover spots and decree they are omnipotent
omnipotent are they decree and spots clover sign men marked
truthfully, they dance circles raw and ragged, burnt gum, toothed and boozed

truthfully, they dance circles raw and ragged, burnt gum, toothed and boozed

truthfully, they dance circles raw and ragged, burnt gum, toothed and boozed

truthfully, they dance circles raw and ragged, burnt gum, toothed and boozed

there's a wonderful incompetence circling my nasal cavity, making gestures in saliva, beckoning my eyes towards fermentation and self-realization. the long process of identity formation in the mind of a damaged fool, with no likelihood of remission into what once was, arduous for its simplicity and encompassing all that shouldn't be, drudges into territories marked by familiar bone structures ripped of their flesh. the sky was yellow when i woke up and it will take years to forget the blue.

are you a man or a mouse? are you a man or a woman? are you a person or are you an institution? are you a man or a building? are you the light or are you the dark? are you a man or a woman? are you a man or a monkey? are you a man or a god? are you resentful or are you accomplished? are you a happy or a sad? are you a white or a grey?
is there an answer or a realization?

she won't be gone when it's fall again. she has no place to go. having left her home to spend tears for blood, and collecting her own currency in oil, she paints nothing with her own spirit. in remuneration and ecstasy at the gifts of the soul, she lights her own hair on fire in a dark room underground. a single light bulb suspended from the sealing provides insight and warmth, but no human hands will touch her where she wants to be touched. she is the inspiration for everything, and i love her more than jesus loves little white heterosexual protestant middle-class children.

you are the bastion of good that will be crushed.

the Wit (66% dark, 26% spontaneous, 10% vulgar)

your humor style: CLEAN | COMPLEX | DARK You like things edgy, subtle, and smart. I guess that means you're probably an intellectual, but don't take that to mean pretentious. You realize 'dumb' can be witty--after all isn't that the Simpsons' philosophy?--but rudeness for its own sake, 'gross-out' humor and most other things found in a fraternity leave you totally flat. I guess you just have a more cerebral approach than most. You have the perfect mindset for a joke writer or staff writer. Your sense of humor takes the most thought to appreciate, but it's also the best, in my opinion. You probably loved the Office. If you don't know what I'm talking about, check it out here: http://www.bbc.co.uk/comedy/theoffice/. PEOPLE LIKE YOU: Jon Stewart - Woody Allen - Ricky Gervais The 3-Variable Funny Test! - it rules - If you're interested, try my best friend's best test: The Genghis Khan Genetic Fitness Masterpiece

My test tracked 3 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender: You scored higher than 99% on darkness You scored higher than 99% on spontaneity You scored higher than 99% on vulgarity

Link: The 3 Variable Funny Test written by jason_bateman on OkCupid, home of the 32-Type Dating Test

Axel (Axl?) Rose and a Theramin
coming soon to a rockshow near you!

wacom experiments with light.

where is my love? i'm half assured that tiny sparkling moments captured inside of leaves aren't going to survive long enough to tell us stories when they learn to speak.
in time, all the sadness you cling to like the broken pieces of a sinking ship will fall into darkness where it belongs. you don't belong there, so you will stay here.
you will flourish under the shining sun, and build temples for worshiping love, like you used to believe you could.
TRUE LOVE, not the bastardized concept of attachment as we understand love. not the sexualized perversion of fate we have come to accept as human.
human is divine.
accordingly, we must accept responsibility for our enlightenment. days passing in blind ardor, intoxicated with the chemistry of our minds, the collective consciousness of our genitals, and the soullessness of false freedom must pass, as we accept the fate of intellect.
to build, to reinvent, to produce-
thought. new ideas and religions that don't discriminate for the sake of defining good and evil. philosophies in tune with humanity, carols that ring out in solace and celebration of others, we must write them in whatever medium we choose.
there are icicles forming on the beards of our ancestors. their legacy is freezing to death under the weight of our nothing.
do not celebrate nothing unless you understand it.
if you do, then sing nothing, know nothing, be nothing, and be the best.
find the truth in the love you still believe in.


-Drew

great gobs of galloping gastrointestinal guillotines

Myspace was becoming unhealthy for me, so I decided to migrate on over this way and partake of all this livejournalry.
I have to decide whether I'm going to write in a fast loose artsy style that's largely incomprehensable, or if i'll go with what i'm typing now. it will probably end up being a little of both.


Hrrrmmm... oh well, lata.

BTW-EMILY! Tell all your friends to friend me because I am amazing.


-Drew