i was asked to write something, i dont want to, but for that very reason i lll write something, This hotel that my aunt owns has a very small and cozy library. Its on the second floor, its one of the two rooms located on the second floor, the third floor has six. Its located at the bend of the staircase.

I thought maybe before the night was over i would wander in there with my laptop and right out a significant blog,but i dont want to. Im not one for writing in cozy places. i dont even like blogging anymore. Why did i start it in the first place? because people i knew did it and i thought hey, why not. It seems strange that so many people who claim to be quite, spend copious amounts of time typing out all sorts of things. your not quite at all. People just make noise in different ways, thats all it is tho isnt it? Just noise, were all making some sort of noise that is adding to the mix of the world, the white noise. So what does it take for a sound to "cut thru the mix"?

Where's the boost pedal to shout my voice? Fame? infamy?
Where's the distortion to cut and clip my original sound or intention?
Who is going to repeat the sounds i make? let them rebound

It was a relativly good thanks giving, No macy's day parade, i dont know the channels here. I watched in time, its an interesting concept, seems to be just an amplified version of whats really happening. Watched some lie to me, really do enjoy that show. British people man.
Just because you know something, does that make you smarter then someone who does not?


were just dinasaurs, each and everyone. Waiting and predicting our own extinction. Im up here in the clouds but they wont let me come down, They broke my later, jacobs' building hindsight to fix us all, like a pyro burning down the tree to touch my fluff.

but my pillow, my pillow is flame proof, Hold still it wont smother me. It builds me up it builds me up it builds me up, so i wont see im full of it. Take me down, break my castles now, With our big dinasaur feet crush it small. the camera smiles, he loves it.

viral were gonna see the world only as we take it down, turn on the lights to cover up the glue, show off the cracks, our seams are true.

Buried

i think everyone has something, hidden or buried, they can barely keep down. Something they feel at any moment could erupt like a poisonous cloud and cover there whole life. A skinny girl you can see, see how thin and pretty she is but for some reason you just know she will one day get grotesqley and dispaportionatly obese. The quite kid who sits and just watches, yet you see the sinking lines that have slowly etched their way into a permanent mark on his face. He fears he might just erupt into a ball of angry fire, that hits and shouts, just like his dad. They fear, the anything really is stuffed down inside of us so deep, we hope it wont ever show its face, but it will, it does. Everyone one has something good or bad, that is stuffed inside of them.

What do i choose to do with mine? i want to stuff down many but bring to light a few.

Too
few
brew
eww
flew
stew