Counting all different ideas drifting away

Past and present they don’t matter

Now the future’s sorted out

Watch her moving in elliptical patterns

Think it’s not what you say

What you say is way too complicated

For a minute thought I couldn’t tell how to fall out

It’s twenty seconds till the last call

You’re going hey hey hey hey hey hey

Lie down you know it’s easy

Like we did it over summer long

And I’ll be anything you ask and more

You’re going hey hey hey hey hey hey hey

It’s not a miracle we needed

No I wouldn’t let you think so

Fold it, fold it, fold it, fold it

Girlfriend, oh your girlfriend is drifting away

Past and present 1855 -1901 †

Watch them built up a meteor tower

Think it’s not gonna stay anyway

Think it’s overrated

For a minute thought I couldn’t tell how to fall out

It’s twenty seconds till the last call

You’re going hey hey hey hey hey hey

Lie down you know it’s easy

Like we did it over summer long

And I’ll be anything you ask and more

You’re going hey hey hey hey hey hey hey

It’s not a miracle we needed

No I wouldn’t let you think so

Fold it, fold it, fold it, fold it

"there was a new girl in town, she had it all figured out"

Together forever, never apart. Maybe in distance but never at heart.

"you've got to got to bounce"

nothing distracts me anymore. i choose what bothers me and what doesn't. i want what i want and any obstacles in my way... well there are none. at least in my head that's how it should be. you create the obstacles. there are none if you have it clear in your head where you want to go. i won't be taken aback by something such as the vanity of a selfish life. then again, i shouldn't be like this. i should let myself sway with the ocean and let myself get slightly closer to the sunset each day instead of riding right towards it. the beauty of swaying is the embrace of the curves and the reality of the light that hits you each time you glide around a wave. obstacles give you the time to ponder, to feel, to exist but without them, you might feel but you can't articulate or ignite the words within. numb. yeah, that's what it is. i'm numb. concussional is what i've become, unable to speak, however, able to sense the aura, the ambience. and the presence of this determination has taken all the courage i have left, becoming easy to pretend. "i really fucked it up this time. didn't i, my dear?"

"we don't waste no precious time"

i'm hooked onto the song teenage crime by adrian lux.

specifically, the axwell remix. however, i'm also hooked

on the dubstep remixes like this one:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8wb2UTLuVxw

why the fuck do teachers have to pretend like they know how

to teach originality or inspiration? you can't...those two things

should come to a person as a second nature. you can't just

teach a person to "do their thing."

"You have a purple heart.

Purple hearts are strong & ambitious. You are probably a go getter & full of energy. You have somewhat of a childish side but, you know when to be serious as well. You like the finer things in life. You have a lot of pride and dignity. You carry yourself well and present yourself in a respectful manner. People often admire you for you sense of style but, that's not all. Others look up to you because you have a caring heart and soul. Purple signifies romance & favorable feelings. On the negative side Purple hearts can be "gloomy" at times, have sad feelings or feelings of frustration & sometimes anger."

some examples of my photos:

Flickers Would Suffice

I whirl around in circles.
White light surrounds me as if I were caught in a photograph.
Not a photograph of my past, not a photograph of the present.
But—simply, a photograph of what I envision.
A scene of sequence, one that is unadorned—
Like circles.
The grey scale phenomenon of my milieu causes me to cringe
The dissimilarities are too many
But I don’t stop, because like a child, I’m alone but reminiscent of this scene
The velocity in which I rub and twirl matches the room.
Spinning.
Like a circus, as if surreal.
White glows appear in front of me, dancing
Vigorously springing, bending down to plies and it seems to me that they are simply mocking me for the lack of recognition I fail to give them.
Joining them would be nice, I could only imagine.
Concentration, like them—
Concentration would be good.
And so I focus, or at least I try.
I pick up the pace again,
But suddenly, the flashes pick me up and sweep me away.
I notice the clock and it suddenly emphasizes the 12:12
The patterns of the numbers startle me—
Just like every other whom is foreign to sequence
And so, I reach out to turn off the numbers
but my hands collide with an invisible wall
Numbness. Neon lights. Northern lights.
Squares and illumination.
Glints, flashes and colors.
But I wish to dream in black and white.
Turn it off.
Turn it on.
Either one, would be nice.
“Some say the world will end in fire, some say in ice.”
I say that the world will end in flickers.
Flickers that glisten too fast for you to analyze.
Musing wastes time.
And time is something I’d rather not endure when waiting to go.
So let me disagree with you.
If it ended in fire or ice, that would not suffice.
For those two let you linger too long and let you acknowledge what is burning, what is freezing.
Flickers, Mr. Frost.
Flickers would suffice.