Walking the line
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nick's LiveJournal:
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| Sunday, June 8th, 2008 | | 4:30 am |
"WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT?!"
I am sexless I am listless I am a barnacle I fuck myself Sometimes I'd like nothing more than to fuck my hand. | | Friday, June 6th, 2008 | | 9:23 pm |
I figured saving lives would be better
Little porkchops so eager for a new sun. Jumping onto a 20 foot or so shuttle, driving to their ultimate demise. Toy soldiers. All lined up. I was up at 4 AM until 7 PM for the last two days. They had arcades with little plastic guns in the waiting room: sniper rifles, desert eagles, .45's, automatics. All subtle things I could see the young flock to and play completely unaware behind glass doors. Desensitization tools you and I have become all too familiar with. They tried fucking with my head. They said they'd do a lie-detector test. They said I could be thrown in federal prison. Yet here I am. Officially owned by the government for 4 years... technically 8. I don't give a fuck about the war. I'm a photographer and a rescue diver. I'm seeing the world. The night before some new highschool graduate girls shipped out I heard about the boys taking turns swallowing different children's seeds. I heard them in the hotel that was paid for getting fucked in more ways than one nextdoor. I'm so glad I did this at 23 instead of then. So vestal. There is no other way it could or would have happened. I found a dove with a broken wing that had fallen out of it's nest. The mother would never take it back. I gave it to my sister. The one that is recovering from bipolar and on every drug to do with said ailment under the sun on max dosage (lithium included). This could be good for her. She loves him. His name is William. Pictures soon. Current Music: Pumpkins- Stumbleine | | Tuesday, June 3rd, 2008 | | 12:29 am |
| | Monday, June 2nd, 2008 | | 4:28 am |
HAHAHA
INCEST. YEAH. AUSTIN INCEST. IT SHOULD BE A NEW FUCKIN SHOW. IT WOULD SELL SO WELL. THINK ABOUT IT. I DON'T EVEN KNOW YOUR NAME. I KNOW HIM, THAT HE KNOWS YOU, THAT WE KNOW WE, THAT YOU KNOW YOURSELF, BUT WE ALL KNOW HIM, HIM AND HER. LET'S MAKE 4 LEGGED CHILDREN. | | Sunday, June 1st, 2008 | | 3:57 pm |
Fuck that kid
In the past week I have: -Fucked up my foot. -Threw my arm out of socket. -Fucked up my wrist. -Seen 3 UFO's. -Had a sawed-off shotgun go off less than a foot in front of me by my ear and into the air. -Had a ringing in my ear. -Had my Coalesce shirt stolen. -Got my Coalesce shirt back. A crazy drug-dealer was swinging a bat at Liam's house while he was gone and Hannah was there. The dude is in jail now. Because fuck that kid. That's why. | | Saturday, May 31st, 2008 | | 11:39 pm |
Lord of the flies
She told me a ring-finger longer than the index meant a promiscuous boy. | | Friday, May 30th, 2008 | | 1:27 pm |
Bear mace
I'm a photographer for the Navy less than 2 hours outside of Seattle on 3 sister islands with a 2 mile bridge by the name of "Deceiver's Pass" where a redwood forest abruptly stops and cliffs off into the sea with migrating whales below. I hit the jackpot. Be my pen pal again and I'll send you random things. Among the places I'll be seeing: Hawaii, Japan, South Korea, Guam, Thailand, Australia, New Zealand and India. I'll be a good pen-pal. Laura's in California for 5 days. Laura's leaving back to South Korea at the end of the month. I guess it still really hasn't sunk in yet. I guess I've kind of been ignoring it as much as possible. I love her. Current Mood:  hornyCurrent Music: Tool- Hooker With a Penis | | Wednesday, May 28th, 2008 | | 11:31 pm |
Fight club
My fist is killing me, I threw my arm out of socket, my foot is a bit swollen, my pants are covered in mud. Not gonna lie- fuck, that was fun. | | Wednesday, May 21st, 2008 | | 1:23 pm |
Phlegm. Fligm. Flem. Phlum.
I had a dream we were in the forests of Wyoming. We followed the train tracks home because it was faster. A quaint bridge hung above us and the tracks, when from under it 4 wolves came running after us. You didn't make it. They tore you to shreds. I found a rock to throw, scared off 2 and smashed the others. Not sure it had any meaning at all really... I bought Big Fish for Noelle. I think she'll like it. I think it's perfect. I think she'll grow to appreciate it more when she's older. Fuckwounds... I have a slight scar that runs 9 inches or so on the right-hand side of my ribs: as though a knife gently grazed me deep enough to leave a mark... or a cat... who knows? I got a call a couple of weeks ago on Laura's phone when she left it at home: "Hi, is Laura there?" Me: "No. She went out to that shitty bar with her friend Rose and forgot her phone here. Do you have Rose's number?" (Voice changes from fluent English speaking to a mocking Asian tone.) "Uhh-uhh-uhh, so you saying Raura not there?" "No, she's at the bar. Do you want Rose's number?" "Uhh-uhh-uhh... so she not there?" "No dude. She's not here." "Uhh.. uhh.." "UHH-UHH-UHH! You're funny dude." "So Raura not there?" "NO! WHO THE FUCK IS THIS?!" (This continues for 15 minutes) "I Raura's uncle. I calling from South Korea. My English not so good." Whoops. I sound like agent Deepthroat, or a black pornstar from the 70's, or a male Patty or Selma, except I'm coughing snot. Party at my house tonight. Strictly byob. I hate most people so I'm not letting the myspace world know until an hour before. Starts at 11. Come. | | Friday, May 16th, 2008 | | 10:47 pm |
"When you lie in your bed And you lie to yourself" | | Thursday, May 15th, 2008 | | 2:32 am |
19/2004 ?(Attack of the Clones)
We used to skip ACC, go to your apartment down the way, get stoned, drink the shittiest of beers and ride bikes over dams. We made A's in that class. We listened to Modest Mouse, Nirvana, Taking Back Sunday, Pinback, The Movielife and Elliot Smith. We'd play guitar and write acoustic songs at 2PM. We fed your boa rats and she shit on a girl's titties once- she was Indian too. You booked bands as did I. We'd butt heads like two big cats in the same room at times. I met your girlfriend and liked her. Sorry about that. We broke into your room on the third story when we didn't have the key. We carved holes in your carpet to play golf, then got wasted and she'd pull down her shirt and have us spit on her. I crashed at your place for a while we would pass out in the living room to Joy Division to the sound of you two fucking. You got drunk, threw your roommate's bong into the parking spots below on an Audi then proceeded to break the front door on the terms of my "I never did like that door". You were evicted. We went to Long Island and then you lived with a 43 year old Harvard graduate dude off East Airport later who fucked a hooker by the name of "Brown Sugar" every Thursday night for $5. We broke a girl's bike that was straight out of the Jawbreaker song "Boxcar" I used to see and her skateboard in one ordeal on the ride back from West Campus once and laughed until we coughed blood. Your girl left to New Mexico and then you followed with your dog via hitchhikers thumb. We visited. You worked at a 5 star hotel where you hiked down a trail with a shotgun from bear attacks. Your bassist that hung himself made a myspace for you even though you were strongly opposed. We were the only white-looking Injuns in Austin I knew of. Noelle was THIS OLD:  The highest peak in Texas still has our tag as does all of Austin, small towns in Northern Texas, the road to and the Macdonald Observatory, Marfa and various parts of New Mexico and Arizona. I'm visiting you Youngblood. I'm coming to see you on a train with the good shit...  We made Aldous. Nicholas J. Lorge: "The girls with the short black hair who still wear Napalm Death shirts and jeans. The girls like guys that can stand for their own and don't grow passed it in their early 20's. The girls who don't get sucked into the bullshit. I could love one of them." Ryan T. Youngblood: "MAY I HAVE YOUR UNDIVIDED A.D.D!" I've noticed I've had a ton of grammatical errors in my posts. Probably because the majority of my posts are done at times where judgment should have suited me better. Whoops. Sorry. Current Mood: the best friend you never metCurrent Music: Pat's snoring | | Tuesday, May 13th, 2008 | | 12:16 am |
Waves of guilt
It comes sometimes. A tremor down your spine that ends in a 9.5 in your gut. It keeps me awake at night sometimes and invades my dreams. These stone soldiers. Being as uncaring about so much I am a man of morals. A history of shitty things I've done sends tsunamis to small islands and kills the innocent. Current Music: Elliot Smith | | Saturday, May 10th, 2008 | | 4:22 am |
Hated guns- owned a few.
I chose the room where the window had access to the roof so we could sit and watch the rocks flung from the sky's many infinite armory of slingshots. Oddly enough this hasn't been the epicenter of the numerous windows in my house. My attention has been focused on the brig-esque look on the outside world of the lens facing my shower- there is a tree's canapoy that takes up most of the view, but it is this tree that has me writing; glimmering leaves like gold in the sun of May. Every day it catches me by surprise. Like the cinematography from "City Of God"- that is what my window does to this as it's limbs sway in wind. A symbol of many. No matter the circumstance the tree swings and shimmers; untouchable by miners, only admired through the thicker and thin. The light shines through only on your brow and eyes. You spectate this creature's beauty but have no intention to touch or own. The treasure/rock no miner or crackhead could respectably own on East 12th. She sings to me sometimes when the lens is removed and I sit outside. As much sound I can never attain too much to attain I can listen to her crack with virgin leaves and when they brush its as if they're clapping "you've made it here". I couldn't change this song for you even if I tried. You are a violin with new strings and everyone wants an encore. I found you there- at sea on a life raft. YOU: not you, you, or you. You were at peace- days stranded from your vessel, swaying like leaves in the waves. You were not malnourished, the salt had not cracked your skin. Like Mother Mary you sat glowing. I almost didn't want to save you so I didn't. I burned my ship and joined you on a piece of rubber keeping us above trenches below. We didn't light any flares, we didn't wave our meager arms in the air- we didn't say a word. We didn't have to. We floated until the clearest night we've ever seen shed only for us and the millions of others in their own sea. When they said it was "too quiet" I laughed but not to where you could hear. | | Tuesday, May 6th, 2008 | | 3:03 am |
Japan. That's where we leave from Seattle. Then refuel in New Zealand. This is the way of things for 4 years. Cheap and easy way to see the world. | | Saturday, May 3rd, 2008 | | 10:34 pm |
Ms. Chicaaaaaaaawwwgo
I knew her since middle school. Like a disease. She was that pizza that burned the roof of your mouth, that bit of popcorn lodged between your teeth. Fingers of needles, teeth of pills and a smile that lead you to believe the best: that she was clean, that she was of something to invest trust, but she'd always prove you wrong. I saw her a couple of days ago, whispering in her new fling's ear, persuading with a smile for more free-giving. Sorry sucker. She looked over at me now and again. I sat and read the paper. I heard she was a stripper after graduation. I don't hear rumors. I don't follow rumors. What I can tell you is she died like a Spencer's novelty fad along with the Mad Hatter, mushrooms, raves, 69 and the like. | | 2:30 am |
Mr. Toad/The Robert Frost Tree
A song has been sifting about in my mind. A song from an old VHS tape my parents recorded for me as a child my Great Grandma Maggie used to watch with me. It was a 1985 animated rendition of "Wind In The Willows". I Wikipeidia this up and find a folk singer by the name Jude Collins composed the opening score. I'm Mr. Toad. Not rich by a stretch, and certainly not letting down friends but I crash your cars. I find ways to escape from your jails. I jump headfirst into empty pools and deal with fractures and broken bones later. I yell "Carpe Diem" and break your windows. I regret nothing but being caught. I finally got it. I know now. This really is changing. I'm 23 and finally have a plan. I never wanted to head butt something I'd be doing the rest of my life at a relatively vestal age. I've lived and so will continue but this is the division of being a boy and being a man and it won't take a test of hunting a moose with a knife by any sorts. I will always be this way; that much is certain. Nothing can change me but for once I want change around me. I never was a Dr. Suess child. Shel Silverstein were my bedtime stories, but now I know... I can tell you what my favorite childhood movie was. Perhaps when I am living in Toad Hall you can come visit me and see my wide array of fancy paintings and drink my port... got ya. We'll drink some beers and see the longhorn hanging in my atrium:  YEAH RIGHT! HAHAHA! LONGHORNS...   Your life is a book. This chapter is drawing to a close. Because when I go not a trace will be left of me. No tomb for you to set flowers or piss on. I will burn. Only living through stories. Of course I'm not talking about ending anything, I'm just talking about moving on. You'll see me here and there before I jet like it or not. 4 years in the Navy, 4 years for marine biology and paleontology. Then the open sea. Current Mood: Shawshank Redemption 8,000Current Music: Hope Conspiracy | | Friday, May 2nd, 2008 | | 12:10 am |
"To sing her something meaningful" | | Monday, April 28th, 2008 | | 1:36 am |
e...l...i...p...s...i...s...
I just performed home surgery...waited a few days until the toxin coagulated and then just chopped it all out... it's like a big whitish mass... thats what I just did. Brown Recluses be nasty. Orgazmz be rad. | | Wednesday, April 23rd, 2008 | | 12:23 am |
When it rains it pours... bricks
 Something in the way. Some of you may or may not know this long while I've been planning to join the Coast Guard cleaning bays and learning about navigation... so I can't join the Coast Guard because I have a "full-sleeve". Two firm, swift, unforgiving answers of "No. Sorry- the policy just changed last year.". Yup- Sailors can't have tattoos these days. So long 4-year environmental sciences. Strangely enough I feel like a clown and failure for something I've been grass-root against all these years until I realized I wouldn't have to touch a gun aside from basic training. Eugenics... what did I expect? So I've decided to be a cop... Just kidding. I called a Navy recruiter and got a: "DOES IT HAVE TITS ON IT?" "Excuse me?" "Pardon my vulgarity, but does it have tits on it, is it racist, or anti-government or is it on your face, hands or head?" (Nervous, skidding laughter). "No, not at all." "THEN SHIT YEAH BRA! We can totally squeeze you in!" "You're not just fuckin my chain are you?" "Hahaha... heh... heh... no way man! TOTALLY! DUDE: IT'S THE NAVY! SHIT LIKE THAT ORIGINATED HERE! Shit: you can even get tattooed after PEMS." "But I read on the Coast Guard and the Navy and both seem to have the same policies about "full-sleeves"." "BRA! I SWEAR! HEY GUYS," he yells to others "CAN YOU HAVE TATTOOS IN THE NAVY!" Background chorus: "CHA!" "I'll probably do a tour around Baghdad, won't I?" "CHUH!" more nervous laughter "FUCK NAH MAN! I WENT IN AND WAS POSITIONED OFF OF THAILAND! WHAT'S YOUR NAME SCRO?" "Nick." I hope this isn't an introduction to those I will be working with. I hope my tattoos will not be a problem. I hope I can get tattooed in the next 4 years on my arms. The Navy used to be a higher end of the military. Now the ASVAB has been lowered to a 31 due to post-9/11 events (hahaha) as oppose prior scores of an 80. It's never been easier to recruit a fucking idiot. Also Laura is sick and it's about to be her birthday. Also being broke sucks. Working while Converge and Coliseum play sucks too. Bitches at work suck as well. Keep your head up. Current Music: Silent Majority | | Monday, April 21st, 2008 | | 11:53 pm |
Head out of the clouds. Head into the clouds. Mind out of the clouds and into the gutter. Mind somewhere in between. |
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