cristian's wordpad & lingering thoughts

dose of Cristianism & other absurdities.

Posts tagged “autobiography

crush

Posted on July 24, 2019

he’s sitting in his shadow match lit. iron sight shifting with his arrow da vinci with a trebuchet. resentment at a younger age don’t think i’ve ever fucking been the same stay still please, so i don’t have to ever aim. heartbeat on my cabernet, gospel on the interlude never into hurting you; but that’s probably hurting you want to hear you love me, but that’s my crawling incertitude I’m sorry. you’ve heard it… too… many times loose lips sink ships on the new delhi line blueberry, thyme, seattle fog on the bloomsbury dime anxiety finds a new adversary for you every time kavinsky playing nightcall nightfall addict. gun-slinging, moonlight absorber eyeball static, upbringing made me too primed for torture leukocyte warlord with a…

hellhound pt2

Posted on October 7, 2018

heartbreaking shattering crushing blasphemous, bludgeoning, over saturated don’t be surprised if we can’t be separated science needs a new invention to mend hearts or a swab test for tears where a story is written by the chemicals in them and the chemicals in them are only ones that i can create with my signature on them my blood, and my distinction nobody else well, that is interesting. cristian doesn’t want it to end like this the story is written by an author who has no business writing it don’t be surprised if one night we’re looking at each other eye to eye holding each other, close so close so close, i can feel you brush your passionate breaths against my lungs that fill with…

my mother used to say

Posted on October 26, 2017

hi. I’m okay. my name is .. (private exchange) oceanic delight. mariana trench – lets lie on the waves get lied to with promises as you wave your goodbyes the we’ll soon see each others. the i cant wait to arrives gesticulating giant, wide-eyed naivety shine Juan Valdez roast – a vagabonds variant vibe cash valet parking  -pristine ’85 BMW e28. cabernet offswitch. tannins drip from my IV cause i don’t bleed dna deviate from the norm. heliocentric. her face is a star she makes the sun turn violet, and gives rainbows their scars technicolor stitches, wounds wash radiant art do re mi, one way street of living, who’s to say that we are in edens garden, dancing naked to purple rain my dorsal…

i know what i need 

Posted on October 12, 2017

I dont know what I want whether its surface dwelling alone at the swamp or an oak in a marsh, soul searching proverbial want we’re more or less spawns of monsters nobody needs you were my star spangled banner and I was taking a knee subterranean breeze, vitamin pond, still smell your perfume every once in a blue, Dahlia Divin creeps in the room black lagoon creature. months of despondent malaise never under the same moon, but always got in your way every constant is change, every constant in chains the sheriff to my merits, conversation warranted pain follow the tunnel light or continue to walk amongst shade politics, topic delay, boxer on the ropes you taught me to love; but to love to…

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…

July 19th, 1991.

Posted on July 17, 2015

all little boys need father figures not to be normal, or not to be sane. You wouldn’t turn on a lightswitch without seeing where all the conduits placed. You grow up with a fist full of hurt. A surge, like a missile, without hearing a ‘miss you’. But one thing is certain, nothing makes you question your integrity more knowing that your very existence is burden. You’re a burden to breathe. I was just a curious boy. Curious George. Curious Cristian. Tried to talk to friends, but the look on their faces. It hurts just to listen. A burden. “How about a counselor?”. Yeah, I know the in-and-outs. I’m a soldier. Here take my money, let me cry in your shoulder. How do you…

Fireworks

Posted on January 4, 2015

Dreams and reverie boasts Roasted with pearly green chimerical gold God Delusion. Hallucinating a miracle told Where lightning strikes the conscious Lively minded. Constant. Smile by a goddess Where perfectness unfurled by Pangaea Curvy hips, sangria and rooftops Inebriated in a sea. with a jukebox Charismatic, dispelling drama. adorable gospel sings for the saga approaching Americanah and rooted, salsa and dance Savannah beauty, with a lot to command sailor of wisdom, a body tailored for rhythm samba routine, enigma. for her frolicking waist Marvelous taste. Whiskey and fruit wine Yin and yang in spirit. Spirits and moonshine Clamoring percussion, fireworks on the eve ten seconds for eruption, heart on her sleeve little black dress, static libido attracted me. magnetic tuxedo countdown in Manila, 3…

unfinished love gimmicky, smug grinning combustible bunch.

Posted on December 17, 2014

puncturing flows of buttery colors, exposed in post and pre nuptial showmanship. Function control amusing instrumental. effusive, ode to hold this angel to a centerpiece basil, with cloves, of energy that exposed a masterful synergy a weeded rustled drone, that tumblerode a the quietest depiction of the color blue on a petal succulent. moss grows on my archers boot and a straw of my grass clenched by my jawbones a flux of rusty trombones that exude music through it’s metal I’ve heard poetry spoken in crux, bolded by a bellowing, bolstering Underlined by a snake in the grass, it’s so mellow. Just hold me Boisterous. soaked in droves of this sorceress satin She spoke in a language obscurely molded in spanish her lips curved,…

guillotine lust

Posted on December 12, 2014

particle physics; radiation cusps at every speck and a grain that didn’t mean infecting the inflections as your hypothetical claim bite the bullet. swallowing the pistol. it shoots harboring a hollow feeling. sipping miller to boot coil gripped Corona, drowning out social persona were evolving into moths, wallowing towards the murky gray skies. yeah, the coffee! what’s next? marvelous pillow talk over a body of sex heel gone from the left side of my moccasin treads in particular, inarticulate guy with philosophers breath cotton linen robe; tonight i uncover the secrets you stashed underneath the cardinal chasm embedded deep in the cracks try to unfurl the english, through your lips on contours christmas carolers scarf, closed captioned lyrics encore wept for concourse, a few…

Freshly dressed tourniquet

Posted on December 5, 2014

Empyrean cosmos. This feeling I swallow; it’s real. It’s hollow, but there. I know it. It’s growing, a hole full of sorrow, it’s weird. Some sort of eery control. It’s sculpted out a grave in my heart, it’s six feet into my soul. Clay soldier statue that’s woven and wound up by fear. Wounded by perceptions and ousted by fear. I’m used to it, ruthless, I’m near it, I smell, it; I hear. And movements that veer into me, is getting boosted. It’s like every little thing is in motion for me. Emotionally, my blood pumps. it’s mundane humdrum. I’m so used to panic attacks when it happens, I’ve practiced drowning myself to get better at ‘em. Crusted bark falling off the sharp edges…

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…

IT’S 2 A.M

Posted on November 17, 2014

hello crickets. im sad. (the wonderful thing about crickets is they’ll keep chirping if you’re talking to them)The world is at a crossroads. It’s silent and heavy. The cultures the clashes. The cancer, the caving. The careers and consultations my mentors suggest. I look at beautiful woman and I want to tell them they’re beautiful. To smile. I look at men I have some interests with and I want to tell them “hey man, that’s cool.” the comment alone is enough for me as a interaction. sometimes It’s lonely. sometimes you want them to be interested in what you have to say. Sometimes you want a meaningful conversation. sometimes I don’t want to fantasize about sexual trysts. I just want to roll around in…

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