Thursday, December 23, 2010

90. it's all that I have

Blue moonlight.
I spend my weekends watching the sun come up, and never stepping outside until early morning. When its dark. Plastic room keys, stale sheets, bitter tea from paper cups. Offensively friendly hotel staff. Who's gonna cut me down to a size that suits me? This life takes too long, I spend it driving 5.3 miles to a prison, from a prison. Peering into windows with the lights on, hoping praying to see some kind of movement, a flicker of life a 25 miles per hour. I can't cry right. I don't know where this is leading me, I don't know if I want it to lead me anywhere. There's a taste in my mouth that isn't reminiscent of a passion or joy. Its more of a longing, a desperation. I'm dying slowly to live slower. Emergence from a shell, so to speak; speaking softly.
Foul weather friend I'm tired of blaming everyone else. I'm too tired for everything.

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

89. nothing

on and off the wagon.
in and out of phases.
on and off the track.
in and out of sleep.
on and off the fence
in and out of my mind.
need to.
want to.
have to.
must do "the right thing"

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

88. Desensitized

Malignant & Malicious.
Unforgiving and unnerving, much like cancer.
Turned off by emotion, switched on by negligence.
Thinking hurts.
Complaining annoys.
Silence is golden.

Monday, October 4, 2010

87. Call your bluff, get away.

Minutes blend,
days pass.
Nights are unable to mend,
"I've got some bad ideas and too much time to use them".
Days blend,
months pass through me.
enough to know better.
enough to forget.
enough to never forgive.

Saturday, September 11, 2010

86. Terminal B


Topics as of late are concentrated solely on love, or the lack there of.
Is it because I want it that way? Am I too picky? Is no one paying attention? Am I that unlovable?
You don't have to tell me.
It's one degree of extreme, or the other.
I'm in my room from 5 pm on,
or out with people until three am.
There's no significant changes occurring inside of me.
I simply float.
I don't feel as hyper talented or likable as everyone seems to think I am.
I don't feel anything but empty.
You must be such a fool to pass me by.

Sunday, September 5, 2010

85. Procession

The destruction has only begun.
Moments in ruins,
movements of solution.
Subjective and suggestive.
Predictable and quantifiable.
"I count disasters on my free hands now"
With no end in sight,
still "searching for the light."
Your reflection is only what you make it out to be.
"It seems like I've been here before."
Stalking houses,
talking is far too crowded.
Locked in,
shut down.
Safe in the shell.

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

84. Perfecting Lonliness

With the flick of a wrist and an adjustment to light.
Crushed by a set of pale blue yes, perfection in yellow.
Feelings long forgotten, or buried you decide which.
All came barreling back furiously.
I should have been focused on sleep.
I should have been focused on having the time of my life.
But there you were, perfection in yellow.
Inverted determination.
Long walks, and the threat of rain.
Comfortably indiscriminate.
Quietly discerning.
Thinking loudly.
"Everything I saw, was everything I'd want"
Left now with nothing but this.
Longing for something more.
Searching for something sure.
Trying for something pure.

Waiting in idle.

Absolutely yours,

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

83. snarky little shit eater

<a href="">II by t r o u b l e m a k e r</a>

Dedicated to you, and all your smarmy, thinly veiled journal entries.
I stopped caring a long time ago
stop fucking writing about me.

I can never take
what you will never give.
Defining your movement
Forcing the drift.
Its always the permanence that fades before my interest even starts to wane.
memories maintain a miserable even keel
I am Nothing
For Nobody
Left to your own devices
waiting for moments to fall into your hands
So Misdirected
So fucking dejected
All I feel is repulsion
towards all your compulsions.
All that I see,
is what we'll never be

Sunday, August 8, 2010

82. highway hypnosis

Broken spirits, and broken white lines.
Aimless muggy walks, curbside life discussions, all sparked by the need for something.
The summer starvation and for some its a sweltering salvation.
Resting your eyes in fifth gear, 32 fluid ounces of iced liquid ambition.
It never helps.
Lack of focus at 80 MPH.
Lights flash,
the quiet hum of a transmission.
No respite,
no shelter.
Summer starvation in the haze of mental swelter.

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

81. we hung our clothes up on the floor

You think you're sly.
They bite the bait, you reel them in reeling, a new conquest newly conquered.
An oil change is a small price to pay in the long run.
Twisting of sheets.
Turning the truth in your favor.
Young and far from impressionable, get off as much as possible.
"Lets get you some strange".
Running for so long.
Longing to run.
You're so charming and clever.
Witty and eccentric.
Look at you go.
Putting your faith in closed doors.

one day...

Saturday, July 31, 2010

80. three hundred and sixty five nights of sleeping alone

"They say that the classics never go out of style but, they do, they do. Somehow baby, I never thought that we do too."

Thursday, July 8, 2010

79. Simply put

Take this away from me, and I swear I'll bury you

Wednesday, June 30, 2010

78. I won't tell anybody

Would you put your arms around me ?
(I won't tell anyone)
Does it have to come ?
All I ask of you is one thing that you'll never do

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

77. I swear I have nothing to prove

leave me alone
for you know this isn't the first time
In fact this is twice in a row
that the angels have slipped through our landslide
and filled up our garden with snow
and I dont wish to taste of your insides
or to call out your name through my phone
for the glory boys at your bedside
will love you as long as you're something to own

So many things go through my head at the same time, so many memories, so many emotions. It's never been an exciting, positive or happy feeling.

Why start now?

The constant invariable is dying for variables.
He is thirsty for change
He is hungry for love
He is deprived of all of it.
While everything everyone could want or need to make them happy falls into their lap, he sits quietly and painfully in the corner watching while they get it.
All this work
All this effort
All this time wasted
All these emotions squandered

Monday, June 14, 2010

76. all i have left is this heart in my chest, your dishonesty helping me cope

"It's been a long time since I've been close to you
It's been a long time since I've been sad.
It's been a while since I've really spent time with you
Wish I could take back the times that I had.
The only thing that you ever really did for me
Was make me oh so miserable.
And the hope that I never see your face again
Is anything but questionable."

Monday, June 7, 2010

75. strictly analog to digital

Composed in the club quarters central loop room 730, on 5.30.2010.

A drawn curtain, courtesy pamphlets, out dated novels and tarnish on my desk lamp. A stomach full of fruit fried up from the sun and starch from the dirt. My aching legs coincide with an aching mind. These old feelings from what I left behind. Flirtatiously arduous texts fill the time, time, time. The time between destinations. Feelings of suprise at the mutual attraction, and anticipation to see what's next. A familiar disgust. Second rate bergamot infusion from a leaky pot, a snoring compadre on the verge of abandonment "communication breakdown, it's always the same". Why is it that I can't stop thinking about you? Why is it that I'm so stuck on the rest of you?

Monday, May 31, 2010

74. a room with a view

The following was conceived on the floor of terminal A

Wednesday, May 19, 2010

73. tangled up in flat black

I could keep you all to myself
Hanging on to waiting for moments to fall in your lap.
Left to your own devices,
a victim to your own ruin.
Others accountable for self-inflicted wounds,
I know you've got to be free.
You see in spirals that only go down,
a kaleidoscope of self-implosion.
I dream in flat black,
all these monotone memories maintain a miserable even keel.
One day they'll catch up,
to all your hiccups.
A lifestyle so inedible,
a reaction so un-incredible.
Surprise was never an option.
It was mandatory,
in accordance with the same old story.
My repulsion,
towards your compulsions.
Your pleasures for all this judgement will one day turn on you.
So free yourself

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

72. Cry about it why don't you?

Tonight's soundtrack

Give me back 
my pictures of me.
Me, you and him makes three.
It figures the wheezing will measure your rate of depress and i hope you know.
Like a bitch in heat,
I hope she know.

So put another penny in and turn the crank
until the frames cease to move,
and the movie turns into a photo,
a photo the size of a kiss,
I hope she knows.

Staring at this Parisian sex flick,
where the characters don't meet,
the characters don't speak,
and the characters are like mirrors facing mirrors:
Space always expanding.

So put another coin in and turn the crank
until the frames cease to move
and the movie turns into a photo,
a photo the size of my fist
I hope she knows.

A hiccup in paradise
I keep you jealously to myself,
in photos the size of a kiss
a kiss in the shape of a bullet.

On phone lines and letterhead,
I'm dying about.
I'm dying about.

I've watched you whore yourself for one more thing, 
won't you sell yourself for one more?
There's always one more thing, why don't you sell yourself?
If I can't have you no one will.

Pushing a lover 
to love another.
Are you turned on?
Are you turned on?

A hiccup in paradise
I keep you jealously to myself,
in a photo the size of a kiss,
a kiss in the shape of a bullet.

On phone lines and letterhead
I'm dying about
I'm dying about

A hiccup in paradise
I keep you jealously to myself,
in a photo the size of a kiss
a kiss in the shape of a bullet.

I keep you jealously to myself.
A kiss in the shape of a bullet.

Bring on the night

Monday, May 10, 2010

71. Never stop yelling

Polished verbal projectiles, poised to pounce on the unsuspecting masses.
I take the abuses of the day and make them my own.

Something tangible, fuel.
Something I can feel, fever.
Something that is going to separate me from the rest, one day.
It's never been about us, it's always been about "them"
Us and them.

I hear you.

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

70. Give me back

I want my life back.I want my life back.I want my life back.I want my life back.I want my life back.I want my life back.I want my life back.I want my life back.I want my life back.I want my life back.I want my life back.I want my life back.I want my life back.I want my life back.I want my life back.I want my life back.I want my life back.I want my life back.I want my life back.I want my life back.I want my life back.I want my life back.I want my life back.I want my life back.I want my life back.I want my life back.I want my life back.I want my life back.I want my life back.I want my life back.I want my life back.I want my life back.I want my life back.I want my life back.I want my life back.

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

69. Sluttering (May 4th)

Flattered that you think I warrant ugliness.
Gutters drain west, mud made a mess of us.
It's time to leave this place.
I'd saw through your wrist to find a better trap that fits.
I'd saw through your traps to find a better you.
A part of you that lasts.

I saw through your trap and into my own wrists. 
Saw we were through, red ribbons spill to blue:
a sight to sore your eyes.

I got this dress.
I'm hiking it around this waste of laughter.
Slow dance alone
with no one to the sound of four hands clapping.
to you both, I hope somewhere you're happy.
If there's a moral
to this story, then I wish you'd show me.

Hair in the blood, fly in the disappointment.
Rubber, I'm glue. I'll write the book on you.
It's sticking to my face.
You need a little less than what you take for granted.
This is the sip that's drinking back from you,
blacking out your eyes.

You need a little more suppression of you appetites.
This is your honeymoon, in separate rooms,
it's neither sweet nor bright.

I got this dress.
I'm hiking it around this waste of laughter.
Slow dance alone
with no one to the sound of four hands clapping.
to you both, I hope somewhere you're happy.
If there's a moral
to this story, then I wish you'd show me.

I made a word
to give this state a name, this game a guess.
I call it "sluttering."
It means as little as your little test.
You are your
worst revenge. Your very means, they have no ends.
This is a story
you won't tell the kids we'll never have.

If you hear this song a hundred times it still won't be enough.
If you hear this song a hundred times it still won't be enough.
If you hear this song a hundred times it still won't be enough.
If you hear this song a hundred times it still won't be enough.

Chapters closed on that one for good.

You warrant cowardice, your own actions and lack of discretion speak volumes of your intentions and so called "feelings".

I'll never waste another night studying my ceiling on you ever again.

Good night, good luck, good riddance.

Thursday, April 29, 2010

68. I'm sorry my mistake.

It was a long day, I spent 13 hours out of the house. Eleven in a dingy disgusting kitchen, making food that I despised, with people that I hated. The only respite serving me was that in eight short days I would be free from the shackles of neurotic penny pinchers and arrogant "drop outs". My time was coming up, and I couldn't keep the smile from my lips.  The time came after I was done scrubbing the shame from the stainless steel surfaces, "I don't need you anymore" you said in your signature snark. " Some things never do change", I muttered. Snapping right back at me with some disgusting little quip, you were called "fucking ridiculous" and I got my shit and walked out. Wondering all the while how bad you planned on screwing me on my paycheck. I know you will. 
Eight years of sometimes unbelievable treatment came to an end on monday, and something still didn't seem right despite my new found freedom. A Strange air surrounded me for the bulk of the day, mostly transforming itself into catatonia and dead pan stares. I worked out, I didn't eat, I went home. Just like any other day.
Then you called, asking to come over I could smell the desperation on the receiver. Begrudgingly, I obliged the request, you push your issues way too hard. I needed to wash the day off me. You, in a rare show of rudeness decided to 'just let yourself in'. Strike one. You were playing with my dogs, strike two.  I passed out on the couch. you undressed and went to bed.  you kissed me good night and I could taste the menthol and orbit gum concoction you decided to greet me with. Disgusted,  I turned over and faced my record shelf, declaring that today is the day where I'm better off completely alone.
You weren't the one that ruined me, you're just catching the tail end of a life of rejection and people saying goodbye.

I'm rolling up the doormat, and wheeling out the bricks and mortar.

Friday, April 23, 2010

67. Idiot Wind

Idiot Wind

Someone’s got it in for me, they’re planting stories in the press
Whoever it is I wish they’d cut it out but when they will I can only guess
They say I shot a man named Gray and took his wife to Italy
She inherited a million bucks and when she died it came to me
I can’t help it if I’m lucky

People see me all the time and they just can’t remember how to act
Their minds are filled with big ideas, images and distorted facts
Even you, yesterday you had to ask me where it was at
I couldn’t believe after all these years, you didn’t know me better than that
Sweet lady

Idiot wind, blowing every time you move your mouth
Blowing down the backroads headin’ south
Idiot wind, blowing every time you move your teeth
You’re an idiot, babe
It’s a wonder that you still know how to breathe

I ran into the fortune-teller, who said beware of lightning that might strike
I haven’t known peace and quiet for so long I can’t remember what it’s like
There’s a lone soldier on the cross, smoke pourin’ out of a boxcar door
You didn’t know it, you didn’t think it could be done, in the final end he won the wars
After losin’ every battle

I woke up on the roadside, daydreamin’ ’bout the way things sometimes are
Visions of your chestnut mare shoot through my head and are makin’ me see stars
You hurt the ones that I love best and cover up the truth with lies
One day you’ll be in the ditch, flies buzzin’ around your eyes
Blood on your saddle

Idiot wind, blowing through the flowers on your tomb
Blowing through the curtains in your room
Idiot wind, blowing every time you move your teeth
You’re an idiot, babe
It’s a wonder that you still know how to breathe

It was gravity which pulled us down and destiny which broke us apart
You tamed the lion in my cage but it just wasn’t enough to change my heart
Now everything’s a little upside down, as a matter of fact the wheels have stopped
What’s good is bad, what’s bad is good, you’ll find out when you reach the top
You’re on the bottom

I noticed at the ceremony, your corrupt ways had finally made you blind
I can’t remember your face anymore, your mouth has changed, your eyes
don’t look into mine
The priest wore black on the seventh day and sat stone-faced while the
building burned
I waited for you on the running boards, near the cypress trees, while the
springtime turned
Slowly into Autumn

Idiot wind, blowing like a circle around my skull
From the Grand Coulee Dam to the Capitol
Idiot wind, blowing every time you move your teeth
You’re an idiot, babe
It’s a wonder that you still know how to breathe

I can’t feel you anymore, I can’t even touch the books you’ve read
Every time I crawl past your door, I been wishin’ I was somebody else instead
Down the highway, down the tracks, down the road to ecstasy
I followed you beneath the stars, hounded by your memory
And all your ragin’ glory

I been double-crossed now for the very last time and now I’m finally free
I kissed goodbye the howling beast on the borderline which separated you from me
You’ll never know the hurt I suffered nor the pain I rise above
And I’ll never know the same about you, your holiness or your kind of love
And it makes me feel so sorry

Idiot wind, blowing through the buttons of our coats
Blowing through the letters that we wrote
Idiot wind, blowing through the dust upon our shelves
We’re idiots, babe
It’s a wonder we can even feed ourselves

Saturday, April 17, 2010

66. It's move or die

It's never going to be like it could have been.
Now it's just this room. (Window looks back.)
You're a big part of it.
But I don't care. (You take the lead.)
And can you really see me now
like I made me? (Made me anew.)
Just like
anyone else. (Safer alone.)

I could be scathing, I could drag your name through the mud, I could hate you forever and an eternity. I won't be, I never will, and I can't see myself hating you for that long. I don't know why I can't and I think I've earned the right to, I just can't bring myself to do it. The fight is slowly seeping out of every inch of my body, I know how much it supposedly bothers you. I just don't seem to mind that much anymore. 

Dedicated in loving memory to better days.


Monday, April 5, 2010

65. Finished lyrics- CMND/CTRL

Here are some finished troublemaker songs for whatever up coming release we're going to take our time on. 
I thought I would share them for anyone who is interested. 

The following song I would like to consider as a first hand account from a child eyes, 23 years later.

I'll take your abuse,

I'll confide in your "love".

I'll put on your ring

I'll walk down the aisle 

You take a swing

I force a smile

You took your meds

I took our child

Further away...

Further away

I'm rotting, decaying.

You're lifeless, degrading

This following song is dedicated to the greater Los Angeles area.


I, I never wanted this, I talk to no one and notice everything.

I, I never thought of the pain. I believe in nothing I doubt everything. 

I'm standing trial, and I'm so afraid. 

Being left alone is all I know. Selfless wreck with no room for growth.

I, I have no purpose and I hate all that I've become.

I always had to shoulder the guilt, but still crumble under the weight of your words.

I grind my teeth to the gums because I'm desperate.

I'm finding solace in nothing, full of resentment

You maintain your composure while I  just fall apart  

I still exist in my own self made mess

Thanks for reading.

Thursday, March 18, 2010

64. Unregulated Rabbit Holes

'You can only kick a dog for so long until it does one of two things. It will either roll over and die, or it will bite back'.

'I'm the dog that bites back'.

Saturday, March 6, 2010

63. State of The Nation

Did you really think I'd give you the satisfaction at this point?
As if I could honestly let it kill me anymore than it already has?
Hours of sleep that I will never get back,
stuck in between days of what are now wasted laments.
No, I won't give you the satisfaction.
The record has been turned over,
and the books have been shelved.
My terms, your terms. 
Pay them no mind.
Terms are relative at this point.
You got what you wanted,
after months of deliberation.
Personal debate.
Internal "conflict".
No, I won't give you the satisfaction.
Just this...
The record has been turned over,
and books have been shelved.
Pay me no mind.
I am vapor.
I am yesterday.
I am nothing.
For nobody.
I'm finishing what you couldn't.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

62. I think I'm starting to show

I'm past a boiling point, I'm starting to bubble over with confusion, fear, indecisiveness, and apathy fanning the flames.
May my paranoia be the pot, my guilt be the lid, and the outside world chipping away at me be the contents.

soups up.

Wednesday, February 3, 2010

61. He had run out of options

I've taken stock of everything I have within my tiny little universe. I've audited the lists, checked my math, filed my returns early and waited by the mailbox anxiously for a response. The response never came in the mail, and it never will. I shouldn't be waiting around for a response when all I need to do is look in the mirror for one. Took me almost seven years to come to a conclusion like this. I waited for things to happen to me, in some respects I'm still waiting. It's stupid, and an awful way to live. I'm pretty hard on myself too, for everything. I consistently find myself riddled with guilt when it isn't necessary. The food I eat, or don't eat. Yelling at the dogs when they misbehave, taking stressful situations out on my mother, and close friends. Something I've always done, and something that has always killed me for days at a time. I've binged and purged on everything. Too much of something at a time then nothing for days even weeks at a time. I don't know if the steps that I'm taking are the right ones, but at least they're steps.  I'm tired of watching minutes blend to hours which blend into days which turn into weeks. I'm purging my misery and transforming myself. I want to be a machine. I want to be unstoppable. I'll binge on routine and what this world has to offer, even more so what it has to throw at me. I hate it enough to fight it, and someday I'll be strong enough to take it on. Diet. No more junk food, no more picking throughout the day, no more sugar, no more fried food.
Exercise. changing my regiment, sick of a plateau, sick of comfort, sick of dirty looks from ed hardy clad portuguese jocks. Stronger, faster.
Apathy with applied and deserved care. Ignore, everyone that has little to no bearing on my life. Listen to friends and family members, closely. Find a new job, and fast. Write off anyone and anything that is holding me back. Shake off anything that makes me weak.

Sunday, January 31, 2010

60. Out of things to say

I finished a song for the first time in six months,  it's about you.

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

59. a ray of light

It's been months since I've been this excited about anything

Sunday, January 10, 2010

58. F.S.C.F.K.Y.F.M.


Saturday, January 9, 2010

57: falling farther from just what we are

This is how I feel today after I re discovered this cassette a few days ago buried at the bottom of my CD shelf.

You always forget how good records like "Purple" are until you re listen to them long after their prime has passed. 
I don't care how "tuned in" you are too music. Your attention always strays from classics loved at an earlier date. 
That is, until you find them again. You can re connect with them on an entirely new level, 
and this song has successfully killed me. 
I can't listen to anything anymore because of you.

Wednesday, January 6, 2010

56. big empty

Embrace the void,
taunt the night.
Mock the walls you study,
only to find that they mock you right back.
Find solace in nothing,
fear in everything.
Drive alone,
dine alone.
Talk to no one,
notice everything.
Communicate with objects,
listen only to the air.
Grind your teeth to the gums,
only out of desperation.
Grind every single axe,
only for survival.
Believe in nothing,
doubt everything.
Wake up,
fall asleep.
Stay asleep,
waste your day.
Skip meals,
out of disgust.
Stay alone,
I need no trust.

Friday, January 1, 2010

55. This is for you, about you, and towards you.

Listen closely, lean closer, stay as far away from me as you can