brentellesmith

It was on the deathbed of night when the acid was working its heavy magic, and the panicked howls of the innocent echoed through the drunken, dirty streets in a sour summer night in Nevada.

That was when the Dangerous American revealed itself to me. Walking down the colorful street of lit-up and false fantasies I began to see their true expressions that they had...
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London Thoughts--don't listen to me, you're the curious 3 year old and I'm the bleach under the kitchen sink.

Too many of these long nights and murky early mornings. How far will I go? How long will I last? I wonder if old age is necessary; if a young death is transcendent. I wish not to be a martyr either. Old age could be fun...
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Your Friends in the Dark

Unsilenced madness, countless insanity
A night with the homicidal suicides, one pill too many
Aurora shimmers and the skin trickles
Come out of your graves and dance with the truly dead,
Death with his sickle
Limbo unleashed and clouds carry black fate
All chained to agoraphobic office work ants, teased by empty
pearl gates
Skeleton hands and hallow eyes
You...
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i've decided to write more in this itching journal here. what the fuck, why not. it's apparent no one will come to read these entries so why not spill the soul and puke on heaven's door.

very good thing speed is not a physical addiction, or else i'd be in bad fucking trouble. but i've bent too much of my mind and paranoid nights trying...
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Not to touch the earth
Not to see the sun
Nothing left to do, but
Run, run, run
Let's run
Let's run

House upon the hill
Moon is lying still
Shadows of the trees
Witnessing the wild breeze
C'mon baby run with me
Let's run
Run with me
Run with me
Run with me
Let's run

The mansion is warm, at the top of the...
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RIP Hunter S. Thompson

what will happen now? times are warped. bad craziness. the only man with something worth saying in this country has put a gun to his head. what should that tell us? if God is indeed "in the White House" getting rich with the rest of the Texans, then who will open the doors for all the church-goers in the red states...
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Shake dreams from your hair
My pretty child, my sweet one.
Choose the day and choose the sign of your day
The day's divinity
First thing you see.

A vast radiant beach in a cool jeweled moon
Couples naked race down by its quiet side
And we laugh like soft, mad children
Smug in the woolly cotton brains on infancy.
The music and voices are...
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