TEEEEEEE.PEEEEEEEEEEE.RRRRRRR.

TEEEEEEE.PEEEEEEEEEEE.RRRRRRR.

I don't know if you'll get this in time. I'm not sending it out to you specifically, but if you read it... You will know it's to you. Happy New Year. I love you. You are and always will be an amazing person. 365 days isn't that much time. But, I'm glad I spent some of it with. It's not all made up of shear brilliance, but it isn't all that painful either. I have one wish for you this New Years... I hope that this year, your pain will be much bearable, in fact, I hope you don't have any pain this year. But, honestly that's ridiculous, your pain won't fade just because the year changed. So I have one wish I hope comes true for you this New Years. I wish that whenever you feel sad, unworthy, ugly, incompetent or question why... I wish you can try and see yourself through my eyes. I wish you can see the beauty in your dark brown, mesmerizing eyes. I wish you could see the undying love you have to offer someone. I wish you could see how perfect all your mistakes are. I wish you can see how one day your smile will make a man-boy-child-machine-dog-thing feel complete.
I love you T.P.R. Happy fucking New Year, dear.

Fin.

I Made it Bold, I Made it Important

I Made it Bold, I Made it Important


I am armed with the humor, that can only be justifiably expressed, as an alcoholics dark charm.
I am sheltered with secrets.
Secrets that make up my life.
Secrets that are close knit, yet are tampered with; as time goes on.
Dampened with holes, as big as, chain link fences.
Deflected with an imagination, as well equipped as my mind's eye will let me inhabit.
I am filled with a trifling soul and a warm heart.


Fin.

NYC

It's foggy out here in the city. It looks like Phillip Morris just took a deep, fulfilling, pull off of a Marlboro Red; let the smoke linger in the back of his throat, and slowly guided the smoke out on to Manhattan. It looks lovely. The fog makes New York City seem like there is an endless horizon line. Manhattan's tall buildings look ghostly, there is bricks that almost seem transparent. It is breathtaking. There are bridges and gestures of trees in the distance. Pale faces with red noses. Men and Women alike; look like clown imitations. It's wonderful. There are ice patches sheltering the city sidewalks that are already covered in memorable pieces of used chewing gum. It's honorable.

There is practically 20million people all over New York City. But, today, it's as though it's just the two of us. You smiled at me

Queen's Christmas

Queen's Christmas

It's 10:47A.M.
I woke up practically 2 hours ago,
I went to sleep practically 7 hours ago.
That was sufficient enough for me.

I fell asleep staining my mouth with cheap 40's, expensive Marlboro's, and cheap Camel's. I stained my mind with obscure thoughts. I woke up in Queens this morning. I expected to; this was a planned agenda. Yet, somehow when I woke up in Queens, this morning, I was still lost as to why. I wasn't sure of this quite familiar place. The last time I've shared this place with my eyes was more than a year ago on the 4th of July. It was nice to wake some place new. It was comforting. Comforting, but strange.

It's the day after Christmas, I feel nostalgic. There is no particular reason for it, at least I don't think there is. I feel good, fresh. Fresh, but not clean. I want a cigarette. I've been awake for two hours and haven't had a cigarette yet. It's unlike myself. I think it's because I have none left. haha.

I want Alice to wake up already.
I want Alice to wake up already.
I want Alice to wake up already.

I'm ready for breakfast. I'm ready for a cigarette. I want Alice to give me a cigarette. I don't want to take a two hour train ride back to my neighborhood. I think I might just live here a couple of days. Just, till I learn to teleport. I want to learn to teleport. I don't want to go on the train.

I promised my mother, I'd go shopping with her today; in Jersey. That could be fun. I'm kind of excited by that. I love my mother.

I woke up and started reading War and Peace by Tolstoy, this morning. This man is a fucking genius. If I could write a book half as good as War and Peace, I'd be more than happy with myself. It's fucking brilliant.

Wow. This entry came out exactly the way blog entry should. That's never happened by me before.

Fin.

One on One: Attendant of the Insane Asylum

One on One: Attendant of the Insane Asylum

I feel strange looking back at the situation now. I wasn't quite sure where my urge to laugh was coming from. It came from something previous, something before; no, not because of the movie, which should have been the most laughable thing in the world. Joy, something like a physical form of joy. Even though it was hard for me to believe, joy. I could have laughed contentment, pure, delightful, inexplicable contentment. ''I'm just going crazy,'' I thought. ''And with this spontaneous nut, I guess, it's contagious.'' She and I sat there on her abnormally high placed bed as she unzipped her pants and pulled them down to her knees. She has gorgeous hips, I never mentioned it to her, I just figured that would be an extremely obscene thing to compliment her on, or any girl for that matter. She took the index finger of my right hand with her left hand, and started to suck on the tip of it. Pulling and pushing it, in and out, with her warm sweaty hand, massaging it with her tongue. As she started to pulled down her pants to her knees, she got closer to me and breathed in deeply, as if it was her last breath of air. She exhaled and threw down her undies, as soon as they connected back with her monochromatic, blue-wash burn jeans, she forcefully tugged them down to her ankles. She smiled as she slowly relapsed her back onto the bed, and her head reunited, and fastened to the pillow. She let go of my hand as she gestured for a remark on my part, when she stroked her pale, thrillingly beautiful body; till she got to her slit. She proceeded to outline her damp inviting lips; as though to refamiliarize her most sensational asset. She shook uncontrollably as she executed the most known magic trick to her two fingers; the disappearing act. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head and eyelids followed in an opposing manner. She moaned, gently and low. The insition she induced on herself provoked a conditioned kind of reflex of her back thrusting into the air, she clatched onto the bed sheets as she smiled and whispered a question, ''Are you enjoying this as much as I am?'' I wanted to say, ''No.'' After all that was what I was thinking. But, instead I grinned joyously and responded, "You are so hot." With an idiotic laughter joined together by a stupefied, continuous head nod. She cried out, "OH G*D.''

I was her muse, I was the only thought in her head at that moment. What a shame. What a waste of a thought. She should be thinking about anything else, anyone else. She clamped onto my hand, passionately as she finished herself off, and pulled me ontop of herself. It is ridiculous that I still have to appear up on stage for an encore, after all it seemed as though she did a wonderful one-person-performance. She seemed inconceivably happy with herself. I gave her a kiss on the forehead, and began to produce a truly artistically, enthusiastic role of a exceptional lover. I made for an excellent pawn to her eager notion to my induced delight and her tortured pleasure.

Fin.

I Bang With No Pants On

I Bang With No Pants On


I'm your biggest fan,
Keeping a little boy like me at the edge of his seat,
You have me dancing to your heartbeat.
Smoking cigarettes to your voice, Drinking wine to your image.
I'm your biggest fan,
I caught a cold the day you stopped singing to me,
I'll always be your biggest fan.

Oh, oh, oh.

I'm your biggest fan.

Fin.

1-800-Petersaur

1-800-Petersaur

The lights went out; in my room.
I'm done.
Eat me while I'm hot.
After all, I am your genuine find.

Note to self: Stop acting like, that was time well wasted. You were wasted.
Take everything out of this ship wreck, Captain.

Turn the lights down.
Lay down on my chest.
I've got a movie we can watch.
It's about a boy who's given purpose, by a girl who took his breath away.
She got him so high, he never wants to come down.
Stay with him. Stay with him. Does she stay with him?

Their futures are splitting them apart, as I write.
They will get to that, when it comes around, but none of that matters now.
Because they feel so alive, alive, alive. When they say, 'I love you too'.

12wqn14idnq08

12wqn14idnq08



She opened her legs, quicker than she opened her heart up.
She had love notes oozing out of her slit.
She had the sweetest nectar.
She opened her wings and followed me home.

I was dumb enough not to go home, but go out on a reckless 'sexcapade'.

Sheheardmemoan,IheardHerscream.

Fin.

We Were Married Once, True Story Kiddo

We Were Married Once, True Story Kiddo.

THIS WILL BE INTERESTING WHEN I GET AROUND TO FINISHING IT, CHECK BACK IN A DAY. I DON'T HAVE THE ENERGY TO FINISH IT.



As I sat there waiting for her arrival at our restaurant, my knees began to shake uncontrollably. They bounced up and down as though I was moving them to the sound of a musical rhythm. I wasn't. My old, veiny, and discolored arms were outstretched and I grabbed for the nearest liquid to quench my parched throat. Which happened to be Lindeman's Merlot; extremely expensive. I wanted to wait for her before I opened it, but I couldn't, I was too nervous to not have a little gulp to calm my dry insides. I poured it in a spotlessly classical glass and the burgundy toxin seemed to just flow out so fluidly. It glistened in the glass, under the dimmed fluorescent atmosphere. It looked perfect, almost too perfect for me to deserve. I took a small gulp and realized this Vino isn't very calming, it's erotic aroma is intoxicating, and it reminded me so much of her, that it actually made me even more uneasy. Why am I so phased by this woman? After all, at some point she was mine. All mine. I kept contemplating stepping out for a smoke, I really wanted one. I kept fidgeting around in my left crotch pocket, of my worn down pinstrip pants, with the pack of Marlboro Lights. I just kept fumbling around really thinking about weither or not I want to smell like a chimeny. (Marlboro, Budwiezer, CoCa-Cola. The three richest, oldest, most used products known to mankind; in that specific order. An old professor of mine from NYU told me that practically 4 decades ago. I don't know why I just remembered that.) She hated it when I smoked, she hated everything about it. The stenched that lingered to me after I had a smoke, the taste of my lips, the fact that I am harming myself; and know it. Fuck it, she left me, who cares. I'm going to out for a smoke. But, as soon as I stood up from my chair, I saw her. I saw Sophie. My beautiful Sophie. The woman that for the passed 4 decades of my life has illuminated, every single room she has every entered. (With the exception of the last year) Jeez, she looks even more breathtaking than she did a year ago. She wore the pearl necklace I gave her for her 30th birthday. She wore the gorgeous backless vibrant, silky, red dress I bought for her 40th birthday. She wore the diamond ring I got her on our 1 year anniversary.(It cost me more than an arm and a leg. It cost me a loan worth more than the one I took out to finish medical school.) She wore the red pumps I bought her on our 5 year anniversary. She looked amazing. Just one thing missing; her wedding ring. I chuckled as I went around our table, to pull back her chair and help her adjust herself into our regular table.

'You look stunning', I uttered. As I walked back around into my seat. I couldn't believe she did that. She wore all the extravagant gifts I gave her, except the one that meant the most between us. As if to say, 'I want you to know... I enjoy all the luxurious spendings you have done on me in the passing years. I just don't give a fuck about you. This is a gathering to show you what you have been missing, Sebastian.'

'Thank you, Sebastian. You seem to look well yourself.' She replied.

'I like your hair like that dear.' I commented.

She threw out a very sarcastic and over dramtically satire laugh as she mentioned, 'You finally noticed. Not once did you ever say a single thing when ever I tried to do something new to myself to have you pay attention to me. Well, thank you. I guess.'

Please Enjoy the Elephant's Rectum

Please Enjoy the Elephant's Rectum

Sickening discomfort.
My throat burns and itches.
I feel an overwhelming urge to cough, because it seems like it'll help subside this irregular pain.
But, coughing does nothing for. Nothing but instigate more burning and an unholy amount of mucus. Coughing one; causes me to cough twice. Then it becomes a never ending cycle, that causes my chest to hurt. My chest feels as though hundreds of little needles are poking at it. It feels warm and fuzzy, but not in a good way. I feel weak. I feel weak. I feel fucking weak. I am sweaty, yet cold. I am 19 year of age but, being sick makes me feel old. I hate this fucking feeling.

I want to be well, I want to be well, I want to be fucking well. I want my mother out of the hospital. I want my brother to stop lying. I want to be more trusting and I want to trust people for the right reasons. I want school to be over. I want to finally feel something more than just 'fine'. I want people to actually give a shit when they ask me, 'How you are doing?' I want them to give a shit about my response, so I will actually respond; honesty. I want people to not only ask me, 'What's going on in my life?' because they want to tell me how marvelous their life is. I don't want people to lie to me, I know nothing is perfect. That includes their life. As long as I am wanting, I want to create a masterpiece--that is my life.

I wish I could have a drink right now, Vodka straight. I wish I could have a cigarette right now, Marlboro Light. I wish I could go to sleep right now, outside, having the field be my bed, the night sky be my blanket, having the moon be my nightlight, and the stars fuel my consistently changing dreams. I wish I could finally be living my life, instead of preparing steps for it.

Raise your shot glass (with me) in the air, to toast for a gorgeous new morning in December. This is for every last bit of fueled hope and every little bed-sheet stained desire that still exists.

FUCK!

Fin.

MANHATTAN && BEDFORD AV.

Let's take a walk through New York City. Let's go to the tallest point of land in Manhattan; located in Bennett Park. We can have a picnic, and I can sit there holding your hand telling you about random childhood memories. Let's walk over to The Cloisters in Fort Tryon park, and look at the Metropolitan Museum's other part of unconventional art. We can stop by The New Leaf Cafe for coffee. We can walk over to the Little Red Light House and see the George Washington Bridge get lit up with balls of fluorescent fireflies.

Let's take a walk through New York City. Let's go to 42econd street, and catch a movie in the AMC theater--munch on goobers and popcorn as I try my hardest to not seem too eager to hold your hand half way through the movie. We can go on the balcony of this destination and over look the bright and flamboyant advertisements scattered along the city. We can end the night by going to the most amazing diner on 58ight street and 9ine ave; The Flame. In this diner we can get my usual booth, and get drunk on Merlot.

Let's take a walk through New York City. Let's go to Central Park, and rediscover Strawberry Fields. We can have a snowball fight. We can eat ice cream. We can smoke cigarettes. We can stare up at the stars as we lay in the grass. We can lay on one of the park benches staring up at the sky trying to decipher nonexistent animals and cloudy figures, as I tell you there is nothing I'd rather do at that moment. We can then walk over to MOMA for a silent film on the left wall of the building, and finish up the night with the most amazing Halal food sold, in the entire United States.

Let's take a walk through New York City. Let's go to Columbus Circle, and sit in the circle, look at fountains, talking about life, love, religion, politics, sex, education, music, art, movies, books, fuck it... Let's philosophize about anything you want. Let's go to the Grand cafe in Astoria, Queens... We can end the night eating chicken shish kabobs and drinking vodka with Redbull or Tequila. Whatever you prefer.

I don't care what we do in New York fuDates, New York City, Manhattan, Fort Tryon, Cloisters, Bennett Park, New Leaf Cafe, Coffee, Metropolitan, Little Red Light House, George Washington Bridge, 42nd Street, Movies, AMC Theater, Popcorn, Diner, The Flame, 58th street, Merlot, Central Park, Strawberry Fields, Snowball fight, Halal Food, Columbus circle, Conversation, Grand Cafe, Astoriacking City... As long as it's with you. As long as we can end the night cuddling in my bed. As long as we fall asleep together. I love New York City. I love my perception of New York City.

Fin.

6ix o'clock in The Fucking A.nte M.eridiem

Warning: THIS IS A BULLSHIT POST; just trying to clear my head...

I can't sleep.
I finally ate something, Chinese left overs.
It was not very good, but it was something.
I just finished watching an old movie; oldie, but a goody: Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind.
I've listened to over 12elve different covers, thus far of Love Lockdown && 17 different covers of Amazing.



By the by, in case you were wondering (&& I know you were wondering) what the acronym A.M. && P.M. stands for...



Ante Meridiem that is what A.M. stands for in reference to time.
Merdiem means noon in Latin. Ante means before. The literal translation would be, before midday.


P.M. stands for Peter Markelson, but in reference to time means; Post Merdiem. Literal translation would be, after midday.

Fin.




Correction stands: I STILL CAN'T FUCKING SLEEP. && Now it's too late, I have to go visit my mother in the hospital before her operation in about an hr. Then around 3hree or 4our I have to go to the Metropolitan Museum to sketch for my life drawing class. After I am done sketching I might go out to dinner in that area, because I have to meet with my History of photography class at around 6:30hirty p.m. I shall be only getting home around 10en at night. I think I want to go out drinking tonight. I mean it's a fucking Friday, I had a LONG and WEIRD fucking week.

iPeed in Her && Now She is Pregnant

iPeed in Her && Now She is Pregnant

I haven't eaten anything in practically 2wo whole fucking days.
I'm hungry, but have no appetite.
I have slept 4our full hours (Not consecutively) in the past 5ive days.
I feel fine.
Just fine.
Not a single thing more, not a single thing less.


I've realized and finally allowed myself; to come to terms with the fact that I am a homosexual, figuratively speaking, of course.
I mean, I must be. I haven't had sex in almost 9 months and I don't want to. I don't know why.
I don't have an urge for it. I mean, if it came along... I would not pass it up. But, I'm not yearning for it. I'm not anticipating it, I have actually opposed against offers. I am a homosexual. I mean, I must be.

Lately, (More so, in the past week) more than anything in the world; I've wanted company. I want to share my bed and be held. I don't want love or sex; I want to cuddle. (That in itself sounds gay.) I want a girl to just smile and allow me to hold her. Hold her so fucking tight, and have her tell me, 'It'll be okay. Just relax." I want a girl to just lay next to me, and slowly ease her way closer to me, and pull me on top of her. Pull me on top of her, so that my body can outline hers. I want her to throw her arms under my armpits and have her hands peek over my shoulders. As I just shove my arms under the warm, smooth small of her back. Fuck it, as long as we are wishing, i want her to wrap her legs around me and let me dig my head into the pillow beside her skull. I want her scent to stain my nose, and I want her to whisper, "Everything will be okay."

I don't think I can love and have sex. I don't think I can truly fulfill my sexually voracious and unstable appetite for sex (at least not on satisfactory level) and love at the same time. Sex is a courtship ritual with a specific kind of communication, I can't reach it with a significant other. The messiness of emotional attachments, just puncture my sexual and romantic bubble and threatens to keep me apart from my 'lover.'

I fail to fall short; of being the epitome of the contemporary urban man. I cannot grasp what love is in relation to sex. To me they are two different things that should be kept as such. (Separately and as far away as possible.)

Fucking without love.
&&
Loving without fucking.
That is my life.

Fin.

Early December, Late Nights

Early December, Late Nights

I'm an idiot and a loser.
My life is ridiculous,
and
if it had to be classified into a genre;
it would be dark, dark, black comical-satire.

I put myself in dumb situations that are completely incompetent.

I am retarded,
I should change my lifestyle,
or at the very least purchase a new one on eBay.


Fin.