fuckin A

well kids, don’t pick your battles.

 

they’ll pick themselves.

 

she doesn’t care

no she doesn’t

not about you, or anything.

 

don’t slip thru the cracks….

no free lunch ;(

 

\

one , two, fuck me?

i thought i was you

 

  • terra bradley 6:66 pm bitch

she was you

there is a name I call myself, when life gets to be too much smiles and I can’t contain it¬†all, I take a deep breath and sigh, “caSsandruhh.” And I feel calm and peace and like my heartsystem whole entire self slows down to a so much more comfortable place. what a shame; I went to college for creative writing and yet endlessly i write like a waif. I wear threadbare skirts around the house and out in public, drifting flightily among the multitidue of opportunities in life. Chaos is right around and in fact within each and every corner and I don’t want to be the goddess of discord or something but it seems to be my karmic role or to stir up the pot… at least, sometimes.

 

i say, “Cassie, sweet girl, behave yourself. All good things one at a time.” Something like that old Jerry Garcia song, and I’ll pick up my guitar or read an old book I love and try to remember to take the good things in life slow, because there are so many. “Cassie, Breathe. It’s all good, you’ll be all right. All you gotta do is love yourself and everything else will follow.”

 

and when she is with me, never am I ever, more at home. and these days, she is always there

 

 

 

killing everything.

pressing as many block buttons on myzself as poszbl. nice time for interferenxe. checzkz in the mail and I must say it was nice of the taxpeople to share w me. accoustomed to the raw deal by this point so dozesn’t surprizse easzily.

 

totally above taking myself seriously. having no self that I wasn’t even never inside of. promising nobody that in as much of as many ways as possible, nothing can continue endlessly.

 

shoveling spinach into myself at the speed of light. vegetable flavored heroin: i am what i am not; i am not even nothing.

 

lately my body temperature is so bizarre. i go through alternating flashes of heat and freezningness and always sweat. at the hinge of spacetime there are too many signals. our selves are vessels for chaos to live the message of itself from whithout

 

-jack

new whijisp3r lyrix

well i passed out wrapped round my dog n woke up in a daze

tried to write down all my dreamz, all spillinn off the page

they’d never believe me anyway; i must’ve sounded crazed.

so i gave u my note$ instead, and we turned out ok ūüôā

 

yes, Life had lost her luster ever since you went away,

an all the things that seemed so COOL are all just turnin strange ūüôĀ

the kindlin has fizzled out inside of my heart cave

i guess i’ll always love you babe, but we won’t ever change

 

CHORUS

it may b true, you may not always love me in my way

i’ve said too much already; i got nothin left to say

but nothin ever keeps me giv’n my luv 2 u babe

perhaps i must apologize, but please DON’T EVR CHANGE <3

 

remember, it was springtime; we were walkin in the rain

my mind was alwayzse brimmin w/ ideas in those days

but nothin ever came to light, as much as i would pray…

cuz no one ever wants to hear what goes against the grain

 

my Lullabies of sorrow in this awful world of pain

would all add up to zero without hope in their refrain

but zero’s not so bad i’ve found, and “nothing” is my name

and nothin’s ever perfect, cause Life is but a game

 

CHORUS

 

so if the check is in the mail, at least I’m gettin’ paid

I know I got somethin’ to say, but it all turns out so vague

if Time is a flat circle, there’ll come again this day,

it’s always just the same old song, and it won’t ever change.

 

CHORUS

 

written by cassandra terra spaulding. inspired by Brett benner and True Detective. luv u all don’t change. one way kiddz~

Hey guys, russ again

Hello guys it’s me russ. Well thought you guyss would want to know I’m back. It’s a crazy story I don’t have time right now to explain it all plus I’m meeting the girl from the gas station for coffee. My psycho ex-stalker has been MIA and I feel calm and at ease. Surprised as fuck to actually be having a good Christmas. Haven’t heard from tjonas, LHJ Rex or anyone on here in a while. Hope if anybody died over the holidays it was swift and sensible.

Anyway I gotta put the coffee on, the machines revved up and I got 53$ set aside for this date. Maybe I should take her to get Chinese food. Honestly not a fan of dumplings tho

 

-Russell james junior

sludgemire deathsphere

lately i just have no clue. i think about things that happened in the past and i feel like being under a blanket of lead at the dentist’s office. the x-rays show my malady of a self is indeed malignant; there is no hope for a cure. dreaming becomes increasingly bizarre, generally characterized by abhorrent reflections of moments in my life where i experienced the greatest sense of regret. at night i lay in bed and watch documentaries about serial killers, suicides, large-scale massacres, anything resonant with the overwhelming feeling that of sinking deep, falling, underwater as if by a curse. i asked my friend if he believes that god is alive in this world and he said maybe, a terribly confused and suffering one.

lately i feel like crying at the stupidest things, maybe because i’ve been eating so much horseradish sauce. really just at anything that makes me feel something genuine enough to break through the sterility of the way these days have been. for years i cherished this sense of life being so much like climbing a ladder, every innocuous instance or modicum of self-expression like a puzzle piece laid in the interest of illustrating the bigger picture. when i let my imagination get away with itself, i feel delusional and sick and insane. i just want some kind of end, ufos, a big flash of light, maybe i should just start blowing guys for dough because it seems like that’s what everybody else is doing.

maybe i should talk to a professional or maybe i should stop talking to everybody altogether and disappear into the shadows where i belong. there’s an open mic night held weekly at a cafe down the road from my house, i went last night intending to play a song on my 5-stringed guitar that sounds like nails on a chalkboard to begin with, let alone my erratic and repetitive approach to playing. the more i play music the more i want to give up at it altogether, it’s a good metaphor for life as a whole. i don’t like the way this post is turning out and the fact that it’s raw or genuine doesn’t really mean anything in terms of the effect it might have. it feels recycled, everything does, everything that doesn’t hurts.

nobody read my name off the signup sheet and i left without saying goodbye. i couldn’t afford to get drunk so i asked for water. the barista was wearing a shade of purple that i liked and the way she spoke reminded me of a long time ago and for an instant i felt connected to something. feels like since the black moon it’s been one big long rain day. listening to people play is always interesting, or maybe just because chaos. trying to be a good person but at the end of the day i really don’t feel like anything means anything and the only times i don’t feel like a literal plague on humanity is when i’m blasted to shreds. by virtue of my nature to exist as a walking bag of disease, inwardly retching for every morning i try again, i can’t connect on a consistent basis without some type of dissociative assistance to smooth out the wiry angles and volume-turned-too-highness of endless cognitive dissonance.

lately i just have no fucking clue

-jack

first time here, just sayin

i was given this information by a friend, because i wanted to say something to something. i’m not sure exactly what that is, aside from general disappointment at/from people who seem so hard to be who they want to be, and everyone else who doesn’t try nearly hard enough – and any idea of a happy medium internet-wise seems pretty shot to shit in the age of post-irony, besides maybe this one. i do feel like the main difference between everyone who thinks about and sometimes maybe even wants to kill themselves vs me is that i’ve definitely thought about it more than they have. it’s better to think than to talk, 9/10, because people can/will do just about anything to twist words, but thought can/will always be free. my computer is about to die, so i might as well get to the point – it’s always better to do something than nothing, as easy as it is to love nothing more than something (nevermind do) – and that’s basically it. i’d like to thank russ, and christ, and everyone else too for giving me something to do right now that feels important enough to actually accomplish

– you (me)

it’s like one thing after another

hello again everyone.

 

i’ve meant to update this page more often, just lately everything feels like a man in a black latex suit vomiting gasoline back into an oil spill at the pace of molasses. in this infinite feedback loop of drowning in filth it’s so hard to re-route the output to something digestible. honestly finding it pretty hard to digest much of anything these days, maybe owing to my overall lack of substance. i guess it’s time to come real as x-files all over the world.

 

i have a confession to make. i am a discorporate soul manifesting as the occupant of a human being. alone, i have no substance. i am the spirit of a woman who is lost and trying to find her way home. this body is a vessel. as far as i know, home is a someone who i have yet to meet, for whom my love is unstoppable and eternal. i hope that if i ever find my proper place, everything will fall into lime like pigs on a pen. I don’t think that anything means anything, or that there is ¬†reason why things happen the way they do. But I do think that we are all on a mission to become whole subversively. The truth is always in the last place you would think to look.

 

Sometimes I close my eyes and find myself in a field of dandelions. When I breathe a gust of air with the strength of a tidal wave, I break down into  dust. I am swallowed by the dim and nothing remains. When I open my eyes, I feel born anew as being washed by a cool gray light the color of purgatory. Someday I will be as beautiful as the beginning of time, and everything I touch will turn to roses.

 

<2,

terra

im not anything

hey guys Russ here again after awhile. First thing is I got a new smartphone pay as u go so I can post on mobile againn pretty sick honestly. not even sure rlly when the last time I signed on here was, honestly jus been feeling pretty fucked up and not rite Completely in my head for awhile like eggs that didnt cook all the way from French toast for instance if the bread was too thick. Applied for a job at the gas station downstairs from my apartment but still didnt get a call back.

Nothing going on as far as my legal case against me anymore but im Still on probation for a long time. Honestly have been keeping sober mostly other than for aggressive drinking when feeling extra shhredded but I dnt even do shit like PCP anymore, that’s y I got in trouble. sometimes I still want to kill myself but honestly feel like the world is such a fuckinng shitshow goin to hell so rapidly wer all going down together at basically the same rate. Sometimes I dream about falling out of a tree into a bottomless ocean and sinking through the center of the earth into gods eye, a place of total peace and complete stillness where I can’t be affected by ¬†push and pull forces of ¬†the Fuckkking magnetism that drives¬†me 2¬†wicked indulgences.

Other times I Dream of¬†being at a summer camp full of ppl from throughout my past that choose to no longer acknowledge me for various reasons. alternating between cold blankness and frozen emptiness on good days . been sticking to cheap vodka, mostly Gordon’s.

not even sure if allowed on the Internet or not at this pointX can’t even figure out What it means to like something¬†¬†anymore but I still feel the need to talk to somebody at certain times. ¬†Haven’t heard from LHJ for awhile or noticed if he was on maplestory at all, honestly don’t even play games much at this stage, just staring at the ceiling a lot. Like if I fix my gaze hard enough a wormhole will open to a dimension where my ¬†ex’s mom doesn’t call to tell me the police will be at my house within 24 hours if I text her daughter anymore song lyrics while accusing me ¬†of being “threatening” just for saying how i feel . People that avoid or maybe hate me in many¬†cases of ¬†being cast as an ugly shadow across the lives of others have called me a psycho or accused me of violenxce but the funny part is I’ve never hurt anybody at all other than myself. Actually its not even a little bit funny and I need a beer. Better go dig for change

 

just Rollin thru. Catchh u guys soon

 

– Russ

 

4evr bleaker Corner 2 turn

should probably get my own account and stop posting through russ’s, but what would be the point? that guy doesn’t seem like he gives a shit about anything. actually am thinking about going to visit russ in the real soon, been talking to him a lot through final fantasy 11 online. we play together on the midgardsormr server, almost no one plays that game anymore but russ and i started an IA guild on there if anyone ever wants to come join us, i play as a mithra bard/white mage called JACK IA and russ is a galka dark knight named “SHITSTAIN.”

 

don’t really have much to say but i just wanted to jump on here for a second before i put on the same pants i’ve been wearing for like five days now and go to my mindless job that i despise. money doesn’t mean anything to me and i can’t really manage to save any of it, i guess there are things that i want like to travel but virtually everywhere i go feels like the same place anyway and at the end of the day unless i’m wrapped around a beer and a pizza i feel terribly afraid. i want to press RESET on this jenga nintendo life as the last block pulls itself and the tower continues to crumble cyclically in endless fashion, want to begin game again as someone else, knowing what i know from this lifetime, but preferably not. i wish that a static cyclone would come erase my brainwaves using bad magnets to dial the polarity of myself back to before zero. i want to stare into the sun until the end of time without squinting because nothing at this point could exacerbate the already perpetual headache i’ve accumulated over 25 years of existing as an infinitely fractured vessel of truth. maybe i never existed at all. when the train conductor comes around to collect my four dollars on the way to work, i just stare down into my phone and write notes at the speed of light anymore, and usually nobody bothers me.

 

just want to thank russ again for keying me into IA and letting me use this account all summer, russ, if you see this i hope everything’s going ok, same to thom and LHJ. i havent heard from anyone in a while but did talk to LHJ once over the phone this summer. honestly hate nothing more than extreme temperatures, i’m not built for it, fuck summer and winter, for every apex there is a necessary collapse, change is terrifying but there is beauty in transitional energy, even if it comes from strife and turmoil around the way. maybe i’m just a pussy and this post sucks, maybe it would be better if i were someone else. in any event i better go slam a diet dr. pepper and smoke the tenth cigarette since i woke up if i have any hope of shorting my circuits enough for what i gotta deal with today.

peace out, girl scouts

-jack

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