anarchist's picture

I just feel like writing.

I know I'm sort of clogging this place, but things are going well. Besides the crushing migraine, aching eyes, relentless cough, distressed throat, and periodic nausea. Other than that, I'm fine.

You-know-who was happy to see me after the break (and produced a very large smile upon seeing me near), and we ended up talking for longer than we should have (or at least longer than the school would have wanted). I was very late to class, but that teacher doesn't give a fuck about anything so it doesn't matter.

Perhaps We Should Leave's picture

a short poem about a happy bunny-rabbit

A bitter taste to rival the cloying earnestness of angst

may you rot

may you fester

may you find yourself
the recipient of
your own horrors.

i am no prophet
nor am I God
i'm just a girl
who wants to have something to eat.

but is it unreasonable
to request from my fellows
they act with decency

is it unimaginable that
laughter should be genuine?
happiness be the

is it in the stars that humanity
must be cruel?
i do not believe so



Dracofangxxx's picture


did i start the poetry train rollin? awesome
I don’t know why he thinks I’m the fragile one, when he

cannot handle sleeping any less than 8 hours

without turning into a moody mess; when he

cannot spend one lazy weekend without seeing his friends

and cracks when he cannot play

less than 20 hours of video games a week.

It may be true that my hips look

like I ran them through a meat grinder,

and my tear ducts get more excersize than

my lungs have in years,

but I sleep 2 hours every night and

take care of my problems.

Perhaps We Should Leave's picture

So this is a pretty long poem that gets really personal and weird and stuff. I hope y'all like it, it took me two hours

Fuck it
Fuck it
Fuck it

Next person I hear uses the word tranny
I'm ripping out their eyes
I'll tear out their throat
with my teeth.

Fuck it.

So yeah it's like
I'm afraid to go outside
I feel like if I do
people will see me but not see me.
I'm a fucking girl
but if I'm not wearing a dress
or frills
or something form-fitting I'm
just a boy.
I'm not a fucking boy
fuck you fuckers.
I shouldn't have to convince you
I shouldn't have to wear
shit I don't want to wear
so that
you fuckers will recognize
what I am.

So you cunts

anarchist's picture


My head is a pulsating void. All I can hear is this ringing and the sound of my heart beat, driving me insane. I'm in inescapable pain and I am helpless and immobile. My throat is burnt to soot and dry. I'm slowly learning to walk again.

So I had to take the day off of school. This was not a fun weekend. At least it isn't as bad as it was yesterday.

Uncertain's picture


我決定現在開始我要練習我的中文. 自從我爸媽回去台灣之後我就沒有說多少中文了. 一開始這還算沒問題, 反而我還覺得這事件好事 - 但是後來我才發現中文不只很有用, 如果我不好好加強我其實是失去了一部份的"我". 我每天會用中文寫一段短文, 順便也可以利用這個機會來寫日記.

Dracofangxxx's picture


vomiting through my nose, i choke
panicked gasps and still my shaking hand;
35 pretty red lines marking my hips today-
slices upon thickened scar tissue, my
musical ledger lines waiting to be notated.
i told you my trust was not to be given;
only auctioned to the highest bidder
willing to excersize extreme self sacrifice

you looked at me with honeyed eyes,
forgetting who you are,
and handed me an IOU

Perhaps We Should Leave's picture

A free verse poem that doubles as a plea for the restoration of my sanity (and triples as a basic outline of my love life)

I feel like it's pretty fucked up that when
I watch Adventure Time
The character I get
More than anyone else
is the Ice King
The guy that nobody likes
Who just doesn't get
the way that people work
Who started out pretty well
until his life went to hell
cuz he started to lose his mind
and suddenly I notice that mine
is slipping away
more and more
as the screaming starts to drown myself out
I feel so trapped inside my mind
when I can't hear a thing
that I think
and I wonder if I'm starting to slip
And I wonder if I know anything
at all
Because the more that I look

angel syndrome's picture

performance instructions #1

1) you are naked except for a blindfold
2) the artist hands you a piece of chalk
3) the artist draws on your back
4) through my sense of touch, you try to imitate the lines she is drawing with the chalk on a concrete floor
5) she tries to create something beautiful, something you cannot see
6) the artist struggles, begins to force me into the act of creation - you do not see this world, yet are entirely under her will

[...] you both try

7) forty-five minutes later, the blindfold is removed, you am bleeding from being dragged across the floor, everything is grey, white and red

Dracofangxxx's picture


How do you describe to someone

who is so apathetic and cruel

that they’re that kind of angry again?

you may have thought you had an off switch,

a kill code,

but it’s trapped somewhere inside of that skull, and you

are not at home, absent,


and i am standing at your door in the rain
You didn’t let me say goodbye, goodnight, that I love you-

with the riveting explanation of your all day absence tomorrow,

you deftly gave our relationship the middle finger.

little do you know

anarchist's picture

Another update (if you care to read)

Today was a fucking good day! I'm actually really happy, and I think you can guess why. I had a really good conversation, nearly five full minutes in length (which is a lot for how it's been going), plus two shorter ones. It almost felt like the good old days. He started out really quiet and just unusual for some reason, and then by the end of the day, he had gradually shifted back to the state he usually is around me, so that was really weird.

anarchist's picture

The Belt Thief

We trusted it
We did so foolishly—together
The generosity of the perfect machine is endless
Strange that with our colors
We believed what the monster could do
How we would stare at that smooth gate
Awaiting the ability
The moment of unity
When we could unhinge the door to golden perfection
And be blinded of the sight we would no longer need
And carelessly drift deep into that blue-gray abyss
Without thinking
Without watching that which had no cause
Its lack of purpose fueled our return
The lift from the shining gray pool
In which we would blissfully fill our lungs

swimmerguy's picture


I just remembered this site used to have a search bar, a real monster that if you clicked on it basically guaranteed that your browser would freeze for half an hour before coming up with nothing fruitful.
How long has that been gone, I wonder? I guess I don't remember seeing it for a while...

anarchist's picture

This is too much for a dream journal

Please be more active, Oasies. I'm feeling lonely right now with the lack of multiplicity in people offering help. The site's just down to elph and me now. When I need your guidance the most, you abandon me.

_ -||^ - -

Mogul's picture

Drunk journal

So today we had a BBQ at some friends house with all my classmates and I eventually ended up at some friends house with my best friend and got talking about stuff for like two hours until we felt like going back there, but I got really drunk plus I hadn't eaten anything; after like there's shots of aguardiente I was already tipsy and then I took some more and mixed with whiskey so I got drunk really fast.

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