:--->(i)

I am finally done.
We can just be friends.
I don't have the emotional energy.
I don't have the right time consuming words for you.
You can be my distraction.
I don't need you for anything, than what you are meant to be.
It's finally clear. I guess
I am not going to try and break fate.
Everything happens for a reason.

We can just be friends.


Fin.

Raunchy Goodness

Before I met her, I was the epitome of the word promiscuous. I recycled woman more often than Andy Warhol reused prints. The strangest thing about copulation for me was that I always viewed it as another form of masturbation. (At least until I met this one girl. But, that is a whole other story all together. The affinity between us will be out in the open at some point, when I am ready to express words about it.) So, here is to writing about my unchaste filled behavior.

(Please hold the applause.)

Days, weeks, and months went by; I accomplished nothing but another notch in my 'sexual conquest.'

Fin.

-P.s.I got nothing;
Princess Y.
You win, by default.

Stop Running, homo.

Forgive him. He just wants to know if you have seen this girl; the one whom you should say goodbye to as soon as you say hello. The girl with the vacant, dormant heart. The beautiful girl who can make a boy fall in love with her as easily as she can leave him. The girl running in his dreams. Running in his dreams as fast as possible away from him. (The girl that doesn't believe in love because of an unreliable, lost, significant other.) Forgive him, because he is trying to find, his calling. Have you seen this girl?


Even though she doesn't believe in love, he is trying to call her bluff. She leaves him lost; she knows all his tells; he can't raise the stakes any higher, he doesn't believe in folding, and doesn't understand what cards, she deals with, either. He pleads and he tries to get inside (her heart) her underwear, with her undeniable beauty. They had breakfast together but, tea isn't coffee and neither of them last like what he needs. What only she can make him feel. Forgive him for not knowing your child hood pet, or the fact that you dance around naked after you take a shower, 'because air drying is better.'

He doesn't mean to be a bother, but have you seen this girl? She makes a boy's heart swell with passion, and makes him smile, till his gums go dry. The girl that fits so perfectly in his arms, the girl that can wash a boy out of her life as easily as her hair. (That makes her smell like an angel.)

Fin.

I'm dirty.







Fin.

Late Nights and Early Mornings.

You want amazing? Take a train ride starting at 6:00am; mere minutes after the crack of dawn. On a crowded New York City train from Queens heading towards the most northern peak of Manhattan, near the George Washington Bridge. (The bridge that connects New York to New Jersey, constructed on top and going across the Hudson River.) With every and all different types of cultures and nationalities brought together by a metallic routine cart on wheels. Filled to the fucking brim with people all rushing to get to work on time, and all your riding this train for is to get home early enough to give your father his metro card on time, so he can follow these sheep to his job destination...

Imagine not being able to stop smiling. I mean, uncontrollable happiness because you spent the night with the most interesting human being, just staying up. Staying up throughout the night just. JUST TALKING. SMILING. LAUGHING. JUST ENJOYING. Enjoying pure, innocent, attention for someone who is gorgeous.

Now... Now that... Ladies and gentleman is fucking amazing.



-Shit, I have to go shower. I'll finish this later. To be continued till it's fin.

Wikipedia.

Are you fucking kidding me?

Really?
REALLY?


Some fucking pansy loser, flagged my blog?!
I am not a 10en year old.
So my posts have some naked photos here and there,
I am not posting hardcore porn...
The photos used on my blog are not meant to offend anyone,
&& if you got offended go kill yourself.
This blog was meant for the enjoyment of myself and my dear friends.

Whoever flagged my blog is a FUCKING ASSHOLE!
As well as obviously didn't take into consideration the writing put into my blog,
the photos are there for a mere laugh, my writing is meaningful to me.


When I tried to view my blog annoynmously I got this message:

Possible Blogger Terms of Service Violations

This blog is currently under review due to possible Blogger Terms of Service violations.

If you're a regular reader of this blog and are confident that the content is appropriate, feel free to click "Proceed" to proceed to the blog. We apologize for the inconvenience.

If you're an author of this blog, please follow the instructions on your dashboard for removing this warning page.




In addition to when I logged into my account I got this message:

Cruel Intentions – Hide – Always show

11 Posts, last published on Oct 6, 2008

3 Followers

New Post

– Edit Posts – Settings – Layout – View Blog

This blog has been locked and unpublished due to possible Blogger Terms of Service violations. You may not publish new posts until your blog is reviewed and unlocked.

This blog will be deleted within 20 days unless you request a review.

Request Unlock Review

Who ever flagged my blog, I just want you to know; I needed you viewing my blog almost as much as I need teeth in my asshole. Better yet, your teeth; Eat my shit.

Fin

Displaying 1 of 1 blogs – Show all Minimize list

Sugar Free Disregard

Sugar Free Disregard

It's Monday Morning. I think it may or may not be the 5th. I am not all to sure. It's a real difficult to keep track of the days. It usually is though when you are busy, although to be quite frank, the only thing busy on my end is my mind. The endless succession of nights and days...I'm emotionally, mentally, and physically tired. I need to sleep. I don't know much of anything anymore. I have school in a few hours; at the mere moment more than anything, I want to not have to go to school today. But, sadly I can't afford to miss out on school. I need it. Not even for the purpose of a career, but for the simple fact that I need it to stabilize and regulate my life.

I need a catalyst to help me get my life back on track, and obtain the right order of my priories. I am just not sure whether this catalyst is a person, a place, an object, or just an over all analyzing of my misconstrued ideals and out look on my own life.

I seem to judge my life in a much a favorable light, than I do others. I need someone there to tell me, 'PETER YOU ARE A FUCKING RETARTED! GET YO SHIT STRAIGHT FOOL!' Rather than have some one in my life saying things like, 'Orale FUCK ETTTTTTT!' (I know both those quotes are both lacking in spelling and grammar, but Orale fuck etttt.)

Fin.

:]

2wo Hours, 35ive Minutes, and 51ne seconds

Of pure and utter happiness.

If you don't understand what I am talking about,

It doesn't concern you.

Fin.

Save Money, Live Better, Sell Your Heart To Me

Save Money, Live Better, Sell Your Heart To Me

Save Money, Live Better, Sell Your Heart To Me. So I can crush it, I have not let any woman in to my life. At least, not into my life long enough to truly know me. BUT, I AM NOT AN ASSHOLE! STOP FUCKING ME LIKE ONE!


We’re all full of spelling mistakes and grammatical errors,

Your mind will do anything you put it to, it's your heart that makes it difficult. But, then again it's your heart having emotions that your mind told you were held there.


It does nothing but simply pump your blood. Simply.


Simple was never our style, if you really pay mind. We knew how to push each others buttons. So we pushed and pushed. Hell we just broke them in.

And we're over saying sorry. We're better now. So we say, at least. Or is it that we're only dragging our feet in this sludge of love because we're still sorry? Because don't get me wrong here, I'll love you til the end of time. But we're jaded children, and this world we're in, has held the thought of being bitter so tight. So fucking tight. It's like, I miss you so hard when you're not around. But then you're here and I remember why I send you home early every time.

Who am I to keep a girl from her dream?
Who are we to tell people how to love?

I just can't help but question, think, question this situation. It's heinous the mind setting time limits on things. The whole "I already know when" deal. Well I do know when, but I can't dare tell you. You couldn't dare ask if I knew too. Human nature isn't even natural anymore. Come on kids, it doesn't take much to see why we've all been so blinded. See, blind, on page 69ine; in reference to my metaphorical usage I made with it. If you are still stuck, just understand this.
GET FUCKING OVER IT!

Errr

This is actually really fucking stupid. REALLY fucking stupid.

I've lost all creativity, inspiration, energy. I've lost all hope. I love you, I just.... I guess love you.


I AM NOT AN ASSHOLE, BUT, I PLAY ONE ON T.V.

Fin.

Science Experiment 1ne: Artificial Intelligence

Science Experiment 1ne: Artificial Intelligence

.. And? You write an sms.

Are you not scared what will occur next?

'You sent it.'

... And? Yeah, you.
You got the alert that, 'the message was sent.'

Oh, and now it was 'received.'

But, what start to happen now?

Now starts the very worst,

You start to await the response.

From who?

From her of course!

Hehe.

But you are sneaky,

you ended the sms in a way so that the ending of it be a question

or so it would be that she couldn't answer right away,

because waiting is impossible.

How can you wait for an answer from her?

Yeah...

...And? In the noisiest club,

in the most happiest of company or friends,

Or during the most exciting part during a movie in a dark theater hall

Or even when you sleep, you still feel how your phone moved.

Sms.

From who?

From her,

and the phone lights up the darkness like the brightest shining star.

It is her.

...And? And now you know.

Now you truly believe you know why people need big fingers on their hands.

Here are the buttons.

Here are the letters.

They combine together into words.

...And? And here are the words, "Let's fly through the cosmos."

To where?

To her, To her, to her.

"Hey. *smileyface*

When will we see each other?

*10 smileyfaces*
And a kiss with as many *O's* as the screen will allow me to fit."

.

Fin.

Winnie the Pooh

Winnie the Pooh

My chest aches. It's a dull, blunt, annoyance. I have this burning sensation and it sucks. The pit of my stomach feels like it's imploding, and set ablaze as well. I have a pain in my right temple that is pulsating. My right arm, from the wrist to the elbow feels like it's being pinched at all the wrong moments on the the right places to make me want to cut it off. The lower part of my spine feels weak and worn. My hamstrings feel torn. The balls of my feet feel heavy and used. My shins feel like they are caving inward. My should feels dislocated on my left side. My toes feel as though they have been stomped on by a woman with no sense of rhythm, or shame in the lack of it. My throat feels clogged and swollen, while my heart is beating my body up senselessly. I lost my shame a while ago, and don't know where to look for it.

The strangest things in life happen all to often, at least all to often to be referred to as strange.








Fin.

Recycled Lines

Recycled Lines

I am a 19teen year old man. I believe I have experienced everything, life has to offer. But, I know I have experienced nothing. I shelter myself behind recycled lines. Lines of euphemistic illiterate philosophies, that I have predetermined to try and impress people. Impress people into believing, only what I want them to know about me.


But, the truth is. The FUCKING truth is, I am lost. I hate my lifestyle. I hate it, and have no idea how to go about changing it. I don't know why... I don't know who I am anymore, and more than anything I want to find out. Find out why I lost my passion and drive for things, I know for a fact I used to love.


I mean I know what I want; at least in the mere moments, but not with my life. (That unintentional--cruel intention, of what I want right now. Well, It's clashing with my getting to the knowledge of what I will actually want.)


I have come to the realization that my writing will not get me anywhere. I am at peace with that. I wasn't really expecting it to, at least, in the back of my mind I wasn't. I remember how, just a year ago I really loved writing. I loved it. I mean, I thought that my writing was good. Not Bukowski, Dreiser, or Vonnegut good. But, still enjoyable for other to read. I mean to me there are different types of good writers. There is the episodic good writing such as J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter series. It isn't good as far as literal text, and usuage of language. But, It's enjoyable. I mean fucking hell, it got an entire world to get up off their lazy asses and read. I mean, here is a woman, a woman who came at of no where. A woman who was partically




To be finished later. FUCK IT.