{hidden in her words and eyes} 
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Bored Much?
TEN EMOTIONS
1. Are you missing someone right now?: Yeah.
3. Are you talking to anyone right now? The Wonderful Matt <3
4. Are you bored?: I'm doing this aren't I?
5. Are you German?: Possibly.
6. Are you Irish?: Definitely.
7. Are you French?: No, thankfully.
8. Are you Italian?: I was told once that I look Italian, I think they were on crack.
9. Are your parents still married?: Thankfully no.
10. Do you like someone right now?: I wish I didn't.
TEN FAVORITES:
1. Televison show: Friends.
2. Flower: The ones that look like a womans...
3. Color: Black, of course.
4. Sport: I hate sports, they are useless peices of crap.
5. Mall: I hate them as well.
6. Music: Way too much to list or pick a favorite although Depeche Mode has been in heavy rotation recently.
7. Food: Anything chocolate.
8. Season: Winter.
9. Animal: Wolves for some strange reason.
10. State: I guess my home state, Pennsylvania.
TEN FACTS:
1. Hometown: West Chester aka Dub-C.
2. Hair color: Natural dark brunette that changes colors depending on weather and mood. Currently colored dark red with blonde highlights that are significantly grown out. Soon it will be red on my first layer, black on the bottom, pictures will surely follow.
4. Hair style: Shag Top.
5. Eye color: Green with gold flecks.
6. Shoe size: Eleven in womens, I have large footsies.
7. Mood: Meh.
8. Skin color: THe palest white you have ever seen, my family swears I glow in the dark.
9. Available?: SIngle but not available, relationships are shit.
10. Lefty/righty: Righty.
TEN THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE:
1. Have you ever been in love?: Twice.
2. Do you believe in love?: Yes, I believe it sucks.
3. Why did your last relationship fail: Because she got wasted and woke up naked next to two other girls she supposedly doesn't know. Happy now?
4. Have you ever been heartbroken?: Si, senor.
5. Have you ever broken someone's heart?: Yes.
6. Have you ever fallen for one of your best friends?: No.
7. Have you ever liked someone but never told them: Who hasn't?
8. Are you afraid of commitment?: Not afraid of it, just don't trust it anymore.
9. Has someone ever kissed your hand?: Not that I recall.
10. Have you ever had a secret admirer?: Yes.
TEN THINGS: THIS OR THAT:
1. Love or lust?: Lust.
2. Day or night?: Night.
3. One night stands or relationships?: One night stand.
4. Television or internet?: Neither.
5. Pepsi or Coke?: Pepsi kicks Cokes ass!
6. Wild night out or romantic night in?: Wild night out.
7. Colored pictures or black and white pictures?: Both.
8. Phone or in person?: Phone, I prefer to be detached.
9. Msn or myspace?: Hmm, both.
10. Sunset or sunrise?: Despite my name, sunset.
TEN HAVE Y0U EVER:
1. Have you ever been caught sneaking out?: No, I'm too crafty.
2. Have you ever skinny dipped?: DOes the bathtub count?
3. Have you ever done something you regret?: Of course.
4. Have you ever bungee jumped?: No and never will.
5. Have you ever been on a house boat?: No.
6. Have you ever finished an entire jaw breaker?: Yes, delicious.
7. Have you ever wanted someone so badly it hurt? Duh.
8. Ever danced in the rain? Yeah, it's the Native in me.
10. Have you ever had a hang over?: Yes but now I have a method to avoid them.
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In And Out
She's impeccably brutal
In the ways that she is beautiful
She's perfectly insane
Perfect in my brain
All my unrequited yearn leaves a visible burn
All our memories Play out within my dreams
In and out of sleep
Like a widow I weep
At the hopelessness of her return
I hate her Outward
I love her
Inward
I wither
Without her
I feel her crawling under my skin Deeper than anyone has sunken in
Though she's filthy with lies
I'd compromise my worthless pride
To feel her deeper within
In and out, I'd give my breath Every single one from birth 'til death
If it would make her concede
Make me complete
Once again
I hate her Outward
I love her
Inward
I wither
Without her
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Perfection Lost
All her words
Could go in reverse
The angel that you see
Is a devil underneath
A deceit in allure
Grabs you by the core
You walked away too slow
It never lets you go
Arms that once caught your falls
Won't miss you now that your gone
Prisoner to four cold walls
Your finger always on the trigger of the gun
Your pain seeks revenge
You'll seek it to no end
Until she finally sees
Your fatal disease
Like a plague to the heart
Like shackles on the soul
As your mind falls apart
It never lets you go
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Moron Alert
Yesterday I had to go to an ear, nose, and throat doctor. While getting a Cat-Scan of my head because of my recent migraines they found a cyst in my sinuses. We waited for over an hour and when the doctor came in I knew it was not going to be a fun time. He acted nervous, like he didn't know what he was doing. Everytime he had to leave the room he needed a verbal "ok" from me to do so. He instantly irritated and his hands were shaky. I told him to calm down or he wasn't touching me and therefore not getting paid. Even more irritating was my mother who made him more nervous. I told her that if she couldn't just act like a normal human being I would shove the scope in her ear and scrape out any of her brain that might be left. That little comment made it a quiet drive home. Already knowing he wouldn't operate to remove it he still shot numbing liquid up my nose and before it could work he used a long, cold, metal scope and shoved it painfully in my nose. Only afterwards did my mother tell me that her mother had something similar done and her sinuses where never the same. If there wasn't a man walking behind us I would have strangled her and then run her over with the car and drove myself home.
Then last night I mentioned to my sister that I craved a good read. She recommended a book she already possesed titled The Invisible Man. It seemed good enough, with my sisters summary and the reviews I thought it would be this excellent portrait of racial discrimination in America. I only got to about the fifth page. It was so bland, boring, and predictable I almost fell alseep. I hate bigotry of any kind and I love literature that believes the same. I was so disappointed by this book, I came to the conclusion that the author and critics who acclaimed it should all fuck themselves until they have a stroke. Lucky enough for me I found something worth reading.
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Dead Body Anyone?
I have finally recieved my much needed prescriptions. With my previous insurance the three that I picked up would have cost me fifteen dollars, with my new insurance it cost me almost fifty. I wanted to strangle the girl who rang me up and then throw her body at the man working at the register next to her. The girl had an annoying voice and wouldn't stop twirling her hair and the man had more hair on his arms than Robin Williams.
I remember my last trip to the doctors when he gave me the medications. Two of them are for sleep because five hours of broken sleep hasn't been cutting it for the past two months. One of the medications is a powerful sedative and with two major overdoses in my past he gave me a serious look and said, "Don't overdoes on this, you will stop breathing." I just shook my head, fighting the urge to reply, "Good job, doc. I never would have known that information had you not told me. It will surely be a gold nugget in the back of my mind." I do like my doctor but after his little sprinkle of knowledge, he might as well have handed me a gun and fucked himself up the ass watching the stupid diplomas on the walls melt away. It really bothers me when smart people say stupid things.
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Proud Owner Of A Face For Radio
Another battle of insomnia I lost last night until I get my fucking prescriptions because my insurance company is a ass raping crap weasel. I tried to watch the local news for a possible good laugh because, duh, they suck. After about two seconds I was forced to change the channel out of fear of losing my eye sight. The people who broadcast the news are so goddamned ugly I almost felt sorry for them but sympathy is one of my many incapabilities. I'm under no false sense that I am also one hideous creature but even ugliness should have it's limits.
I don't listen to the radio. If I want to listen to mindless noise some people think is music I'll go grab the 50 cent album on my way to the crack house. But are those idiots not behind the mic sitting on their asses all day doing what they think is a good job because they have an enjoyable voice? For some, yes. They are not given the slacker, sorry excuse for a job because they look good. So why is it that if those who are being listened to are chosen for their voice those who are being watched are not selected for their looks? Wouldn't you watch the news if someone who was good looking was reporting it? Ratings would go up, people would get their much needed information about who's killing who and everybody wins.
Wouldn't you forgive George Bush if he didn't look like a retarded chimp squeezing out a giant shit? Nah, me neither.
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Ass Syd
My mother decided to pick me up a Rolling Stone magazine yesterday because she is going through a mid-life crisis and I told her I've had a strong urge to read lately so I suppose her purchase was to overlap the damage of her "raising". I loathe Rolling Stone with a passion, they know nothing about good music. Led Zepplin was on the cover which I can appreciate but they dubbed them the Heaviest Band Of All Time and labeled them in the category of metal. What a bunch of dipshits.
I was almost saddened at the news I also found on the cover that Syd Barrett died. Whoever doesn't know who he is should be tortured to death. A lot of people find it tragic what happened to him but personally, I think the mother fucker had a kick ass life. He was the front man to the ultimate psychodelic band ever. Then he did too much acid which kicked his schizophrenia in the ass so he went bananas. He quit Pink Floyd and disappeared basically, leaving behind two acclaimed solo albums. Obviously Pink Floyd went on to do bigger and better things and he didn't even have to do any of the fucking work. He got to chill by himself in a sustained self-reality. Basically he got fucked up a lot, never got caught and became a musical legend that will never be forgotten. Who the fuck wouldn't want that? So tonight when I raise a glass of what the fucking alcoholic ever it'll be for good ole fuckin' Syd.
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