I said i’d show you
A bucket and glass
And you’d tell me which was better
And you’d tell me fast
Silence is silence
And nothing more
Retching and bleeding
On your bathroom floor
The bastards are coming
The lock’s on your door
Silence is silence
And nothing more
I’m coming home
And there’s nothing there
And I’m not okay
Because my life’s laid bare
What have we learned
From the snow
That forest scene
Allowed our dreams to grow
Trapped as we were
In our cave
No mind
No plan
With our firebird
And the dazzled huntsman
We lie in different rooms
Your mind is multitudes
We are broken
Beyond concern
We share these squalid nights
These amphimorphic days
Circumlocution
Circumlocution
so yeah, there’s me at 15 in the top photo and 16 in the bottom photo. i was a greasy mosher in both. christ on a fucking bike.
Chino with Greg Puciato of Dillinger Escape Plan at the Golden Gods Awards
So great. Greg is the best.
(Source: fuckyeahchinomoreno, via swampbl00d)
hbbo:
i wrote and recorded a pop song today. i sing on it. this is obviously a momentous occasion.
lyrics:
We watched the moon rise
From your lips
We painted everything
With nothing but our fingertips
And if we felt the time had passed
We’d walk away
To find some other meaning
In any other placeOur days of old
And days of new
Are all we ever
Tried to do
We’ll explain this
To the party
All your hope
Shall come at last
Burn your martyrs
Kill your past
We’ll explain this
To the partyWe made our home
And built our walls
There stood the monuments
And all we did was fall
We mistook our lives
For common allegories
Why do we tread on
Their old storiesAnother dawn
Another home
Another reason to
Live unknownI watch the moon rise
From your lips
We’re painting everything
With nothing but our fingertips
And now we feel the time has passed
We’ll walk away
We found no meaning
But we found our placeenjoy!
In case you missed it earlier. Quite proud of this actually. So far it’s only gotten the attention of two porn blogs, probably because I tagged it as “hardcore”. You live and learn.
i wrote and recorded a pop song today. i sing on it. this is obviously a momentous occasion.
lyrics:
I watched the moon rise
From your lips
We painted everything
With nothing but our fingertips
And if we felt the time had passed
We’d walk away
To find some other meaning
In any other place
Our days of old
And days of new
Are all we ever
Tried to do
We’ll explain this
To the party
All your hope
Shall come at last
Burn your martyrs
Kill your past
We’ll explain this
To the party
We made our home
And built our walls
There stood the monuments
And all we did was fall
We mistook our lives
For common allegories
Why do we tread on
Their old stories
Another dawn
Another home
Another reason to
Live unknown
I watch the moon rise
From your lips
We’re painting everything
With nothing but our fingertips
And now we feel the time has passed
We’ll walk away
We found no meaning
But we found our place
enjoy!
(via moredanlife)
found out i’m probably going to have to do my dissertation on film and media rather than on english next year. thanks for letting me know a day before i have to pick the fucking modules, stirling. it’ll probably be easier from a research perspective to do a dissertation on film, but i was pretty sure i was going to get to do an english dissertation and i had my heart set on it - i know english is a pretty nebulous degree, but if there are no jobs going for english graduates, there are even less going for film graduates.
i realise this is such a fucking first world problem and part of me is saying “SHUT THE FUCK UP HAMISH”, but i’m still pretty gutted and worried about it. FUCK
"let the credulous and vulgar continue to believe that all mental woes can be cured by a daily application of old greek myths to their private parts. i really do not care."
— nabokov on freud.
