Carissa’s Weird- Sophisticated Fuck Princess Please Leave Me Alone
I can take each moment sew it up
On a black kimono leave it tied dangling
In japan’s suicide trees
Swaying for eternity for all to see
Dellusions I lived on another plane from my dreams
It was too much realizing nothing is at it seems
Steal them all if I could but I can’t pick the locks
That you left on the safe you hid from me
Before the wind fish woke up and started to sing
Power ballads purged everything away
You woke up before me and left this place
Hit my face with debris you made left the bed messy
You screamed in ravish and agony over nothing
And now your face stay on each branch and leaf
But Im glad I never see others in my dreams
I feel Im evil, you won’t see or hear me
You gone insane with your anxietes
Cus for no reason, you still fear me
But when pencils pat paper anything can happen
You were still here but I was crazy, I imagined
I wanted to wreck shit force some feelings
I might as well have we were sharing a same ceiling
Blood places patterns lined up cross linoleum
Your fingers lopped off I was happy to be holding them
Those moments I wish highest shelf would let go of them
Cus we duped ourselves more than anything
Fools force fed reality regurgitate retract
Each oath I broke as your words were taken back
I went against things I believe but fuck it
You deserved it people aren’t perfect
I held your hand to help too it seemed you couldn’t see
You needed love before ya shit ended in a fortnight evening
For all I know, maybe months ago, over your casket sister and momma was grieving
It was morning. I woke up incredibly early as usual. It was six, I had
nothing else to do so I watched TV for a while. Heather usually didn’t
get up til 1 in the afternoon sometimes at 10 in the morning. I usually
didn’t watch TV cus there’s nothin’ really that good on during the day,
and I wasn’t about the cable news. I sat up in bed flippin’ through
channels until I saw something about alien encounters. There was a
drawing of a spaceship that looked like it was straight outta
Earthbound. Debates of extraterrestrial beings interested me. I felt it
was very possible. Conspiracies, cryptozoology, and other great mysteries interested me.
Although I didn’t really agree with some conspiracy theories they were
interesting to hear about. I believed that ghosts did exist. I had seen
ghosts before too. When I was little I looked into shamans and used to
try rituals, mom would only shake her head until we actually had weird
shit going on in the house as a result of me playin’ around with
spirits. I got grounded for it, but I wasn’t even trying to do any
harm. My mom had thought I worshiped Satan or some bullshit at one
point too until I told her I was agnostic. My mom and dad would prolly
never understand me. Mom was too concerned about her work to be
concerned with me and Dad lived in California so I didn’t get to see
him often. When I was younger my dad spent the most time with me. At
times I would wish I had moved with him.
It was 8, I went out and got breakfast at the motel and wandered
around the area. The sky had an overcast. There were people out at the
pier fishing and not many wandered outside because of the weather. Me
and Heather both loved overcasts. We were gloomy people at times, we
liked dark imagery, black and pink were her favorite colors and black
and blue were my favorites. Most people would think of this weather as
ugly but we thought of it as beautiful. I always found an overcast sky
more attractive than a clear one since I was little. It was things like
this that led people to shun me and bully me when I was little; Heather
went through the same. Me and her have our similarities but we had our
opposites too, a relationship would be boring to me if I was dating
someone into every single thing I’m into, but its nice, being friends
with or having a partner who has similar life experiences.
I walked down to the beach still thinking about last night. I had
held Heather close to me for the first time in months. I loved her
company so much that there was no need for words when we were together.
I was hoping she’d wake up extra early and we’d get to spend more of
the day together. I checked my phone and saw that I still had nothing.
No messages, and no calls. I had reached the beach and it looked as if
no one was here. I took a left and walked towards a giant billow of
fog. Waves crashed and the tide was steadily becoming larger and
larger. Not a peek of sunlight had came out from the clouds. That
blanket of gray hovered ominously over the city. I didn’t know how long
I had walked for, but I noticed I was passing steps. These steps would
lead to a long pathway to one’s house. I would love to live in one of
these despite the risk of a tsunami or hurricane taking it.
“I need to sit somewhere.” I thought. The signs read no trespassing
but the residents were nice and didn’t mind someone sitting on some
steps hundreds of feet away from the front door. It was hard to see the
horizon but I was sure the fog would eventually clear up. I kicked back
for a while until I felt my phone buzzin’. I looked and saw Heather had
sent me a message, but when I opened it what I read had stopped the
“I felt really uncomfortable about last night and I feel
uncomfortable around you. I really need time and space right now.”
The moment I read that my heart sank. I fell into a endless well of
disbelief. My knees were weak and it felt like nothin’ was around me
anymore. I stared at my phone as my heart pounded faster and faster
with a billion emotions rushing through my body. I didn’t know what to
say. I recalled each moment of that night and I knew there wasn’t
anything I could’ve done to make the love of my life feel that way. I
wanted her to feel safe and to be happy. Now shes upset and scared. She
wanted to avoid me and I didn’t know how long she would for. I called
her over and over again until she forwarded my call. “Dammit.” I shook,
and I felt overwhelmed more than ever in my life. More than a kid
coming home to see a deceased loved one. I clenched my fists in anger
and I wanted to yell and shout at her but I knew if I saw her I would
suck up to her. I continued walking down the shore, to where? Anywhere.
All I wanted was to be around Heather and I couldn’t have that. I could
only hope things would work out.
Have you ever heard that writers should never end a sentence with a preposition?
What do you think?
It’s effectively become a defunct rule, and in writing (especially in fiction), you can justify it as dialect.
I suppose, however, for the SATs and standardized tests, such things would actually matter. Other than that, I can’t fathom of a moment when ending your sentences with prepositions would result in some negativity.
Also, you could probably use such things in your writing to denote different classes of character. I once wrote a tiny piece where characters from the upper class were more “educated” and thus spoke in flawless grammatical form. The ones of lower classes were often annoyed with the upper class because some of their sentences were absurdly long in order to avoid ending sentences with prepositions.
I left the front door unlocked for you every night
Ever since the time of our first conversation
You left for a long time and stumbled inside
You ran your hands across my chest reassuringly
You came closer to the door some days only to turn back
You were scamming me, like that man who tried scamming others
That man who piled imaginary children on the sidewalk
You piled imaginary feelings on my porch and would stumble inside again
You’d wake up the next morning on my couch confused, some nights we were in the same bed. I didn’t want you near me anymore so I moved you.
Kind of really like this one…
Sunn O)))- Orthodox Caveman
The winter has come, I’ve grown cold
The skin on my hands have wrinkled and turned to stone
Each treatment making it worse
Each one sets them aflame causing a burn
My nerves solidify, no feelings inside of me
I lost my mind the day I was conceived
Don’t hold my hand it’ll only crush yours
Leaving you dead disappointed forever and more
I’am tired of coming and going
An embracing hello and a kiss goodbye
Coming home to no one but myself
Leave me with these numb hands of mine
Many times have I walked down Princeton’s barren hall
Each step by anyone, anything could be heard
Everything I cared for gone, disappearing to anywhere
Vanished from the room in this hall
I sigh and continue in my lone steps
We’re still laughing over lore.
Still talking about a stream of smoke in the head of a shelter tank, swimmingly bored.
Swimming in monotony. Swimming in ponds where our knees scrape the bottom.
And still, we swallow the surface.
We brought our boredom to the lights.
Spoiled the city. Blind to the ocean. Deaf to the heavens.
Carving a shut in symphony with memory’s masturbation.
I’ve talked it out.
Doomed to be a spoiled child.
A pupil in the eyes of forever.
I knit the fire. I stared into the mirror.
A prisoner to the past. A ghost to the present.
Put down your glass. Don’t raise a toast to your slaving bloodline now.
Come to life. Walk the roads to Judah, tonight.
And I do walk upon Wan’s Dyke and I do survey the land and I did become the Reaper with my own bare hands. For I am Wodan, though, some call me Hermes, some call me Roman Mercury, god of cargos, god of weather, hanging God of boundaries, hanging God of Gibbet Hill, killing God of hidden doorways.
Spinning the yarn from Wansdyke to Silbury spinning the taelbook, telling the tale. Telling the tellbook to all and sundry. Keltiberians and Irish Gael then I hear camp followers bellow afar their shrieking lament for Johnny Guitar. “Look to the farthest far horizon look to the bloodlust deepest scar look to the scattering Brythonic uprising for this be the wall of Johnny Guitar. This be the ditch that you shall die in here be the wall that I shall cry on. Ditch dug with antler and ox bone shovel. This rising wall that shades our ancient hovel.”
Look to the north a quick mile yonder look to our Yggdrasilbury look to the Saxon chasing Viking look to the Norman chasing Saxon look to the German chasing German. German German German German. Here in the bloodlust deeper scar for here be the wall of Johnny Guitar.
Play your gloom axe Stephen O’Malley sub bass clinging to the sides of the valley, sub bass ringing in each last ditch and combe. Greg Anderson purvey a sonic doom.
To rage in sound this valiant despair, doom and gloom as each a splendid pair. To rage in sound the valiant despair: Not Abraham, not Moses, and not Christ, neither Jove to whom we sacrificed, not Attis, not Mohammed, but to hilltop Thor. We rave and dance and weep and we implore: Look to the farthest far horizon. Don’t blame the messenger, don’t blame the messenger….For I am Death. So Ragnarock with me. For I am Doom so Ragnarock with me…