seandearth

trapped. The cellardoor was locked. the darkness encouraged them to grow closer until they touched each others hands.faces. again they dropped voices. again they separated. open door, shout, closed door. again they.hands.faces.he started to kiss her claiming it could be their last chance (classic). she faked a no for an answer and started feeling his lips.when the door opened again. her father beat the crap out of mike for 2 days, until the pouulice came around. couple shots, one dead.faces.hands.tears(maybejoy,maybesorrow). come back again mike.

i started up as a mechanic when i knew my head couldn't solve the right questions. I became a filosopher when it ocurred to me that THEY did not ASK the right questions. I returned to being a mechanic when i stopped caring. Careless, ask more, and please drop your fucking car in my garage.

they told me to count, but i didn't want to. i started a fire to keep us warm while the others played in the darkness. she came to me first, while the others still played. we walked to the beach and then pretended to kiss each other. holding hands was the farthest ive done till that day when i touched mary's lips. i had seen a movie in which after some kissing they had a smoke, but i didn't have any. she sat down and counted my fingers, said she liked me and ran away. played hide and seek for about an hour more, and then our parents went to the beach to fetch us. i was still looking at the fire when mary waved to me from her dad's car.

knee down, stagger and violently fall down. a minute later things were coming to. the river was wide and i was all wet, the bridge had fallen down. somebody was screaming downstream, somebody was hurt by my side, but my head started feeling lighter and my eyes closed again. sleep sounds nice, like the river getting smaller and soundless.

worms come at the strangest of times, like when the main course went sour, guess what was served next?. worms come to eat, and not to be eaten, but they do not mind role variety. worms fear light, not death. worms humor me. worms visit more often. when you said see you later, it was late. when you came again the worms had had their feast and i was no longer there. when you confront a motionless person lying down, you are the worm.

i do not need a girl, i need a fix, or a kill. i need clear head right away. time calling yesterday i thought it was ok. lost again in bets for healing packs. burst again without tears solving words mean little more than gibberish. if understand contact head physitian.

imagine second for just a, that room in your... yes she is in your room. just as it happened two days ago while you were daydreaming. and all you have to do is press start.

wings, black scattered on the wet floor standing apart. feet firmly on the ground, eyes staring forward. tears all over the salty face, starting to shake up and screaming for the world to fall apart over him. kneeling down, he promises to return when he can, but he cannot part. wet wings and slow limbs do not make a good sum. bye kid. cut the wings, they no longer serve me any good.

red burned feet standing in front of a door, the door opens and a girl comes out. the red feet move towards her to hold her. the hug lasts a few minutes and then, leaving the door open and lights turned on, they proceed to walk to the nearest park, about a mile away. the walk is lasting long enough to build up the scene. first they talk, then they hold each other, and they sit on a blue bench. when the moment comes and the red feet start to run she cries and turns home.

sometimes, maybe very few times it is possible to see a smile. the grass is yellow when the frozen wind from winter tries on other suits. and then the smiler is able to make other people giggle or laugh, not that it is his intention... snow melts and it is happy psycho time. he goes out. when you see a bald black dressed 20 year old freak in the street please smile and wave at me, i will be pleased to hear from you.

nevermore: the tale of the little fuckbag. it all started when i was young. i should have guessed that when my father told me to sing "mother" from Pink Floyd to my own mom, things were not well. and because i am a scumbag i did not react, i just stayed put like nothing happened. and when i most expected it, hell broke loose, i even feared to get hurt (???).

yappy doo. today was great trying to stick my neck out for you while you slept in my bed with someone else. (note: she never told me she was bisexual, although i think now, in retrospective, i would have been even more interested in her) so, while i was shot with a shotgun (!) robbing rum from "the treasure island" brewering and liquor store, up there in straight to hell street, you were having fun with a ridiculously beautiful woman. (why did i go out...) thank you honey. next time, i hope i am invited to your party

well, i gotta confess that even though music is on really loud and my neighbours are feeling a little bit itchy with that and the fact that i got a new pet tiger... out in the streetcorner of my building i find a new specie of rare bum listening to Radiohead playing a rare version of Lucky with Michael Stype, he tells me that i was late to the meeting and starts running of pulling my arm. He led me to a passage where i thought they only sold weed to the desperate, but it turns out that it was a lot much more than it appeared to the naked eye. a girl, of about 10 was there screaming. She was screaming at us, it was way past her bedtime and we were late again. When she was done yelling she told us that we should stick together when we entered chayna town.

nothing slow, just a blunt object slammed into my head ruling out inmortality. one second my face was here, the other it was all around like trying to kiss the floor.

lean forward and suddenly you are blinded and coughing from all the smoke around trying to break free of the air coming in sucking on your bleeding lungs that try and try desperately to cling to the heartless mass of body kneeling on the floor of the kitchen's ceiling upside downward spiral freezer coming to get that tongue of yours swapping it for someone elses that cut in your throat up and in and blood to take out the tongue from your larinxx

braindamaged and limping i walk to the beach. the tide is always rising fast, like in a red dream. the waves crash at my side, and the rocks care to fall apart from my bold and fearfull steps. i hold on to my pistol and the war begins. i shoot at the sea, once, twice, three times. then the waves crash me down, only one is needed, and i loose me gun, my determination, my temper and my chances of killing the unkillable. the sea leaves me on the sands and returns with the tide. i am left salted in a cloudy day sneezing and sandfull of the lesson.

Shit happens, right? wrong. Shit crawls over you, inside you and only then it happens. It's like i'm cursed running from an unknown all powerful mummy inside a fucking pyramid that has been shut my whole life. Then, again, history repeats. A woman comes claiming to be Cleopatra (you all know who she is). We dance, yep, dance trying to shake the mummy. Then we do roll over and have sex, then i have to harm her in a way she asks me to, gently but full of meaning you wouldn't understand. Try to make a promise for me, never sleep with a mummy, the aftertaste is not that great. ps>the song that gave me the title is "all these things that i've done" from The Killers

I was thinking about the movie, and how it was forbidden to play at the cinema because of the tragedy that happened around the time it was supposed to be ready for the public. If the reason was that a jet engine crashed Donnie's house, and that alone, I think the cause is so small and does not have a clear perspective of things. In the movie, the main character stands alone against time, death, illness and a hostile world. And what he does, besides battling for his life, is giving it for the things he loves. Maybe this is what some people didn't want to get out of their heads, this is not necessarily a bad thing. He mends the relationship with his mother, he falls in love, he grows closer to the things he should, and he dies with a smile in his face, knowing that what he did was the right thing. It's when you take someones life that all goes to hell.

well my dearest friends, it has come. the time for being honest and distrustfull at the same time. i may endure the perils of being left alone, but i will not come to the ground by myself. who will raise one hand and come with me? why don't i see hands up? it was clear from the first moment you weren't up with it, your apretiation was limited to show yourself today, but help is something i never asked before. go on home. while i wait here for someone to sit beside me.

watching you, stare at the wall. the big red brick chunk that separates you from the cold outside. I stare for hours, you stare for hours. Climb down from the sofa and grab me by my tie. i fall down once again. On the floor i hear the music you turned on, "like spinning plates", the live (and better) version. It is true, i'm really stuck here, with you. A little romantic figure only in my head. i guess all that slapping around is only trying to wake up.