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futon revolutionary

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(5 cigarettes | can i get a cigarette?)

[18 May 2006|11:36pm]
[ mood | artistic ]



(3 cigarettes | can i get a cigarette?)

i am filled with the saddness and the painfully saddness of the i hate your fucking guts you baby. [23 Feb 2005|12:42pm]
from the journal of douglas houser m.d. :

today i learned what is it was like to kill a man just for the hell of it. i always wanted to know. because i save lives everyday i have developed this urge to kill.........all the time. so i had to do it. and then i had sex with the corpse.

and now the corpse has moved in with me at my beach front loft. don't judge us, we are in love. just because we choose to live this way does not mean you can look down on us. we are people too, even though carl is less of a person everyday(because of his rotting body). but that is besides the point! don't judge us you bastards that is up to thor, the god of thunder.

so if you don't like it maybe i'll just kill you and have a corpse fucking orgy!

peace out, from the private hell of dougie houser m.d.

(6 cigarettes | can i get a cigarette?)

[18 Jan 2005|09:49pm]
fuck you. fuck you all.

(can i get a cigarette?)

dr. thunder [03 Jan 2005|10:42am]
[ mood | mwahahahaha ]

all of you are friggen going down.


the sheep never know when the wolf is going to come.

(2 cigarettes | can i get a cigarette?)

the battle of who could care less [30 Dec 2004|05:23am]
[ mood | cheerful ]

oh what a funny disease

...to the floor bubbling syntax, yeah....

(can i get a cigarette?)

perfect from now on [20 Dec 2004|03:49am]
[ mood | not telling ]

oh man, he's loose again!


(can i get a cigarette?)

kid tested motherfucker apporved [26 Oct 2004|05:42pm]
[ mood | fuck you buddy ]

if you don't vote, if you are not registared then fuck you.

i don't want to hear you complaining about anything. not roads, not taxes, nothing to do with state and/or federal goings on. because you didn't use your voice. so fuck you if you don't use your voice.

you can make up all the excuses for apathy that you want. it's still apahty. and apathy is evil and when you let it take over then they win.

so once again: fuck you.

hugs and fishes

(9 cigarettes | can i get a cigarette?)

your hand in mine [10 Sep 2004|09:00am]
[ mood | optimistic ]

one goodbye kiss before we sink.........

(4 cigarettes | can i get a cigarette?)

you are the god of fuck [04 Sep 2004|02:03am]
[ mood | ummm....watermelon? ]

thielbar is german for "HUG ME I'M LONELY!".

(can i get a cigarette?)

i would sell you for crack [03 Sep 2004|10:38am]
[ mood | i dunno ]

watch me sing, please watch me sing. pay attention to how my vocal chords strain for a meaning, if only because that's the way magazines told me how it's done. i only create art because of what i was told. desillusioned and jaded only because that's what looked cool. feeling old because of the appearance that when you're older it all makes sence.

i'm going to stack up the bodies so high that they block out the sun and put an end to this funny music.

(2 cigarettes | can i get a cigarette?)

bows and arrows [31 Aug 2004|10:08am]
[ mood | contemplative ]

here's a thought: i work in a factory(basicly). it seems to me that is what my life has become. a factory. i punch in, go through the same shit i've gone through the day before and then clock out when my head hits the pillow. going through the same feelings, conversations and breakdowns. and well, i just quit the factory. how you doin'?

also, do yourself a favor and download the walkmen's song "bows and arrows". hell, download or buy the whole album. it will make your life so much better.

can i sleep on your floor tonight? give me some time to set this right?

(can i get a cigarette?)

bleeder [30 Aug 2004|09:03am]
[ mood | not sure ]

sargent angilo and a fresh from arson rookie stepped onto the scene, the m.e. was already there, looking at the body while the police photographer was trying to get as many angles as he could. the odd thing, thought angilo was that everyone there seemed really disturbed. these were all season professionals of the homicide devision who have seen the worst side of human nature, so being jaded about most things is commen place and actually needed for survival in their little world.

as he happened upon the body he shook, the rookie of course vomited, trying to hold it in but ended up spilling out into the corner, right next to where someone was dusting for prints. "GODDAMNIT KID!! WATCH WHERE YOU'RE PUKING!" angilo held back a chuckle and went to grab a look at the body.

the sargent was taken a back at what he saw. a male body, mid twenties, looking of good heath, was covered in cuts. deep cuts that raised the skin. the thing that was disturbing about this was that it looked to be done maticulously, with a sick care. what little skin that was between the gashes created little rivers and streams for the blood, that was now dried and caked, covering the body in what at first glance looked like a third degree sun burn. the sargent shook his head as he surveyed the body, whispering 'jesus christ' to himself every few moments. what made him think was that the only spot that was untouched was on the chest, where the heart is located and a perfect heart shape jumped out of his chest and gave horrible thoughts of lovers quarls and what certin emotions are capable of.

as angilo reached into his pocket for a pair of latex gloves he heard a dull moan. looking around the room he saw the rookie, still doubled over, thinking it was coming from him. then with a purpousfull jolt the body flew up and started shouting "jaquline!! please!!! this is to show you!! this is for you!!" as he started to get up everyone was too shocked to move. sargent angilo held the body back down and shouted to the room "DOES ANYONE KNOW WHO TO CHECK A FUCKING PULSE?!" as he held down the now live body he noticed a knife now clutched in his hand. as he moved quickly to remove it from the pocession of the now life filled corpse, the sargent noticed that the body started sobbing uncontrollably, softly saying "i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry" over and over again. the body started reaching for someone, so the sargent, with a heavey sigh, held this blood soaked, mutalated, hystarical body, rocking back and forth.

later on, at the hospital after they had gotten the full story of self mutilation from the body(now known as tyler) the sargent and the rookie step outside. both light cigarettes, take long thoughtfull drags and exhale while staring at nothing in paticular. they look at each other and the rookie asks: "what makes someone do something like that to themselves?"

sargent angilo just looked at the rookie and took a long drag off of his cigarette.
all he could manage to say was "wow, you're really that young huh?"

the end

(2 cigarettes | can i get a cigarette?)

oh, this is funny..... [26 Aug 2004|08:55am]
[ mood | obtuse ]

......i lost it all.

(9 cigarettes | can i get a cigarette?)

one life one chance [20 Aug 2004|01:37am]
[ mood | evil ]

why did i do what i did?

the truth is i'm a bad person. you can rationlize it anyway you want but that's the truth.

i didn't know how i was supposed to act so i acted.

but i'm still a bad person. sorry to break it to you. say what you want, and i'm sure people will, but there it is.

i'm so sorry. to everyone and everything. i'm sorry.

(15 cigarettes | can i get a cigarette?)

this is what you get, this is all you deserve right now. [15 Aug 2004|12:17am]
[ mood | fucking livid and heartbroken ]

this is a message and you know who you are:

i don't know if i have ever been more pissed off and heartbroken at the same time in my entire life. i have been torn emotionally to pieces from every side. all because of your one extremely stupid fucking action. i could not believe it when i heard about it. i really didn't want to believe it, i wanted it so bad to be a miscommunication but it wasn't. then came the repressing of the murderous rage that was boiling up inside of me. but anyway. moving on.....

how could you fucking do that?! HOW? would you have tried that if i was still there? i thought you fucking hated bullies as well. but why would you do that? when was ever thinking that a good idea? you can't use the drinking as an excuse either, you even said yourself it's not an excuse for stupid shit, and this is the stupidest thing anyone could have done. there is no justification, there is just nothing. this is one of the hardest things i've ever had to do in my life, i think that's why i'm writting it. 17 years man, 17 fucking years.

what will get me kind of communicating with you again? get professional help. honestly i think it's for your own good. you obviously have many things that are going on in your head that need to be settled and realized and worked though. please, if you ever cared about me, do that. maybe, months from now(i'm talking like six at the shortest) you can call everyone who was there and beg for forgiveness, that is once you've faced up to certin things within yourself.

here are the rules, listen up: you do not have a life anymore. you can go to work and do whatever else but you are not alloowed at norms, you are not allowed any place that she might be at. you are not allowed at the dubliner, the only time you are allowed in the casino is when you go to work. i don't want to hear about you being within even one hundred feet of her. i don't want to hear about you trying to communicate with her in any sort of way.

this rules are not threats, but they are to let you know that i am in charge now. you gave up any sort of control you had in your life during that one second. i will not seek you out to harm you, or for anything else for that matter(for how long? i'm not sure yet. but lets just say untill further notice). if you have a problem with them, hey that's just the way it is. if you want to throw another punch at someone, throw one at me, i promise it will be the only one you get to throw.

17 fucking years dude. i would have done anything for you and you know this. i have done everything for you within my power that i have ever could. without ever questioning it. if any of those years ment anything to you then please get some help and follow my rules. finally through all of this there is still a part of me that cares for you and i know how you can get so my last rule is: please do not hurt yourself or do anything dramatic. please.

(2 cigarettes | can i get a cigarette?)

sidewall pressure [06 Aug 2004|12:09pm]
[ mood | contemplative ]

i always thought that with a name like baxter i would be an exceptional painter. being that it's a odd name that invites children to tease you and that it was your parents idea of give you a moniker in which to make life harder, because it isn't hard enough. either way i thought "my parents hate me" and/or "the other kids think i'm wierd". which my parents don't hate me and the other kids would think i'm wierd anyway.

but i want to express myself, i want to create. half the time i don't even get there though. i just sit down, looking blankly into a blank canvas. waiting for some divine inspiration to come hurtling through the heavens. but it never does. i've seen movies about pollack, warhol and baquiate, thinking that if i see how they act maybe i can be as revolutionary as they were. but i don't like drinking all the time, i don't enjoy being and enigma that much and i've never wanted to stick a needle in my arm to get high. but i watch the actors, watch how the move. maybe if i move like them.....nah, wouldn't work. so my eyes burn into the canvas and into the unused tubes of paint and the shiney brushes that still look like new. my ears bleed and yern to make something that will complement the music that i always have playing. and so my eyes itch from all the dust that is building up on them. maybe if i don't blink, i figure, i'll create something worth merit.

i realized early on that i'm not one of the drones, one of the sheep(if you will). but i've spent all this time planning my escape that it's all i know. i only know plans. moutians and moutians of plans that i am affraid or too lazy to exicute.

i guess i'll just call up molly and go out. she's my muse. or at least i would like her to be but i feel as though i used her up very early on in the planning stages. i have plans to find another muse, but you can see how that goes.

there are all these tubes that are hooked up to my head and neck and legs. these tubes are extremely long and unbreakable. i have no idea where they lead to but the length of the tubes will only let me reach a certin point. right at that line of familure and failure. right where i can no longer see and it scares me shitless. right at that point. were baxter must make a choice, be a drone or take a chance.

with these tired and unoriginal eyes, i walk.

(2 cigarettes | can i get a cigarette?)

kill kill kill [18 Jul 2004|08:12pm]
[ mood | blocked ]

letting this brush dry, letting that brush dry. they've all gone and hardened, but that was in the memo. they're never going to know what it's like to make an awkward line ever again. soon all will shed and classes won't morn about that sickening hardwood floor that uses up all energy, about those inside jokes that only the foolish faux king knows and those descriptions that run on and on. this cello will bleed all of the bottles and tubes dry, it will drain all ventricals and patterns from that husk over there. oh god, can't you hear that voice that we just threw down the well? it won't shut up. it's been there for pages but it just won't learn to die. this cello will be the end of me.

(3 cigarettes | can i get a cigarette?)

un jour [27 Mar 2004|07:24pm]
vous obtiendrez à cette plage, où jamais elle peut être.

(1 cigarette | can i get a cigarette?)

everything will never be okay [25 Mar 2004|02:15am]
[ mood | not saying ]

i have never felt so much like a child in my life.

(1 cigarette | can i get a cigarette?)

awsome mix tape vol.4 [24 Mar 2004|03:33am]
so i have this idea, i'm going to try it out. i think it'd be cool if others tried it as well.

the idea is based on compliations that people make. everyone(or most people anyway) love making mix cds for whatever reason. most who have been at it for a while know that each song has to be in a very certin spot or else it'll through off the mood of music salad. now, with that in mind my idea: make a mix cd, think really hard about what songs you're going to put on there and where(as you should do anyway). after it is completed, as you listen to it try to construct a story around it. that's it. just make a story, write one. make it funny or whatever it is you think up, just use the music as a sort of frame work or guide line.

dumb idea? hmmmmm. i dunno. i'll get back to you once i'm done with mine.

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