THE JAPANEEN

ask yourself what am i doing

and you might be better off

but then we were a people living in the darkness
now we are a people dying in the light

by Tennessee Williams: ‘Kill all my demons, and my angels might die too.’

nothing amazing amazes anyone anymore

me: no one’s listening
mum: like cats
me: what
mum: just like cats…

you’re on the other side of the moon
floors boards painted with lavender blood

and i’m in a bottle on the other side of a room
the purple clouds of dust are really something
and look, over there

Lavender King

The cedar floor boards are washed with mango syrup
the walls are sponged pastel blue and infused with vanilla bean primer
golden rods flaked with lavender branches serves as trim around the room
translucent curtains fly around imitating the movement and colour of cream
in your shoes you left all of your blood in two neat pools

i went to this party, and i shot around 14 people, mostly in the head. I made sure i killed every single one of them. No one seemed to care until I was done and the party was finished. No body knew it was me and i took of my shirt at the end of the night to wash the blood out of it and underneath i was wearing a wife beater, i couldn’t remember owning one. I had this high powered riffle that shots rounds fairly quickly one after the other and I remember just standing in the party seeing a head I could probably hit and just start shooting blindly. The first one was an accident but I just kept going. I didn’t even care when I was doing it because no one has power but you, and that is all that matters at the time. Why should you care about anyone else when everyone else is afraid of you? When you hold all the power? Why should you care about those who have to obey to your demands? You hold the power of life in your hands, the power to take it away or let it be. When you have that amount of power, no one really matters except you. Nothing hit me until after while people were scattering around here and there and everything had quieted down. I killed a bunch of people. To me at the time i was just fucking around and within split seconds i knocked a whole person to the ground and splattered their blood all over themselves and all their friends around them; it was a game that I was good at. No one tried to stop me, but I guess they found it pointless to try. After it was over, I was stuck for what it seemed eternally reeling around in a wheel of moral mortification and dismay. You can’t take lives back. I ended full lives, bad enough one than 13 more. As cliche as it is to say, they were children of parents and members of families and they made a difference to those who loved them and with each bullet that blew them to the heavens i was saying a fuck you too all of those people. I thought about it for a while and realized that I was on a tv show and that I only shot them on a tv show, but then i realized that it wasn’t fake as I wished it was. I used a real gun and ended their character’s life and their real life. My dream ended as I yelled at a group of blond bitches on a lawn for taking my mom’s job and then it cut to a scene of tina fey, who is apparently my mother in dream land, baking cinnamon buns and cutting out a heart in each of them and filling it with red icing. Then I woke up and was relieved that I wasn’t a mass murderer.

i always come up with words right before i fall asleep
so, mostly, the production of my writing of lyrics or poems depends on my willingness to snap out of being asleep
i love sleep
hence why i have written like 0 songs

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

whatshouldwecallme:

there are more people doing it than there are people who aren’t
doesn’t mean what i want is weird or extreme

he didn’t do it for a write up, but it happened anyway because now he’s dead and his art is displayed in a gallery

i wish for no inspiration but only passion from within
i wish to never hesitate for waiting helps what’s out, get in
i wish for simple conversation that lacks what doesn’t need to be said
and i wish for only dreams to occupy my head in bed