cristian's wordpad & lingering thoughts

dose of Cristianism & other absurdities.

Posts from the “Uncategorized” Category

figure me out.

Posted on August 13, 2018

it’s beginning to show it’s intertwining dividends between time invested with growth. my intention provoked. lying listless and broke revisiting moments that to me, seem explicitly warped yosemite vulture. my melatonins dried up some sore throat, sore back, amphetamine humdrum ever growing size of my blood pump escaping out of my thorax 500-pound dry-flesh, green alien invasion the least entertaining eyesore of something alive need something to die for, an end to the means imagine going to sleep, with binary code in your dreams wake up to see, beating hearts in the sheets cupid dart in my daith, superstar on the stage taking a nosedive in oblivion, fiending fans in their seats 15:56 in corinthians. hold me, and scream a cobra in the grass,…

fötter day

Posted on June 20, 2017

you can hear the… suburbia chime, zirconia vertebrae. pearly white spine glass thrown in stone houses, regular suburbia night whirring, rewind. chronicled childhood in olive drab paint monocle glass. wormwood and bottles of shawshank. dissolute solitude, wanderer who wallows in maze en route. delay for tomorrow. never promised today virgin diary. anne frank. marie curie disease tinture of rainbow, even if the distance is blurry to me he, who knows the way to zihuatenejo. furlough father. demand you to die when i say so 26 pesos what’s left in your wallet lint and mothball, merryland. experiment omelette. laundromat arcade quarter exchange 2 o clock shadow of death and follicle strain these boulders were supposed to be gone when i got here you shouldered me…

water.fawl.

Posted on August 31, 2016

I don’t know how to be loved. what’s love in return empty promise. time capsulette dug into earth blind to the color of blood, its always dark when it drips the black ink from my plume is evidence it exists push me away push me to grave cedar oak coffin. 25 years been astray tuxedo diaries. 6 foot hole doctrine, malaise  I don’t want my heart who wants what can’t be refunded beauty and the beast heralded nothing every evening at 7 I get visits from something I can’t make out. it has a face that doesn’t resemble I hate myself. here’s my heart on a pedestal delicatessen. velvet crowbar. derelicts vessel  I hate myself. delicate specimen I hate myself, perilous. deadened  dead end.…

IT’S 2 A.M AGAIN, wooohooo.

Posted on November 17, 2014

  its 2am i feel interconnected through any vine or snippet of life perennial inflorescence of any 6 seconds are chimed the success is a hive. hummingbird wings in slow motion hearing the crickets sing, so monotone yet obscurely composed feels like they’re talking to me, as i walk on the leaves that i cross demure. you’re so provocative. and i’m surely a ghost crunching of autumn, is like a skeleton field for tiny trees in the fall to possess you is a  perfect choice, and you’re as alluring, a host sunbathed petals, drowning in jack’o’lanterns of coffee & pumpkin squash the soggy leaves, after a beer. underneath the frothy assumptions it’s cost me a fortune. ink-jets flew the loss to the profits that’s…

HOT CHOCOLATE

Posted on November 17, 2014

HOT CHOCOLATE I walked out in the cold today. Eyes lazy. Burning cause of my allergies. Dogs chain brushing against his collar. Night time. I don’t like looking at shadows that much, they make me dizzy. Something about the abnormal shape makes my head spin. And they’re so rigid. I smelled something. That ‘time of the year’ smell. It filled my soul with a plush, perfect painting. I like chimneys. Theres something so old about them. I used to look at christmas books with the oil santas drawn with his bushy jolly beard and cheeks. Snow scenario, red and green illuminating the tundras of decembers winter. There’s something so relaxing coming in from the cold, to a nice, warm inside, with nice warm cloth,…

Jigsaw Heart. Try to put it together

Posted on November 17, 2014

See. It’s retribution. It’s emblematic of your initial assessment. It’s been erratic. Every visceral session seems to be coming back to bite me in the ass. Are you pisces? I heard that some pisces were, pretty rad. clueless to the superfluous mix. clueless to what i’m doing or did. am i pursuing a gig. am i pursuing cause pursuing’s a bitch. It’s useless. Every mistake I make, or made is etched in razor blades in every thing i do’ed or i did. and everything i do’ed or i did, is the biggest, single most catastrophic thing on the planet. cristians feelings are an inchworm, nothing to get upset over; it happened. I’m supposed to forget. I’m supposed to act like it didnt even occur…

You know what’s sexy? You.

Posted on December 17, 2013

You heard how I breathe when I sleep or how I did those odd little moan noisesit was funny. I just laughed. At how we laughed.Sad. Now I’m sad over how we laughed.A neptuniun fury. Name it a curtain callThe brim of the acrylic cloth that buried shadows in our lovehallow in the squeaky bed bolted in with rusty lugslunging forth to start the sunup, under covers dried with passionin our eyes their lies a passive, sane, perhaps a way, cause absencemakes my heart grow odder. struck gold. pick axe made out of my own bone. marrow that you’d swallow, diamond in the rough. dronepiling up. glow in the dark. we’d pair up together so close to heart if we were of other genus from the start…

  

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