Saturday, May 31, 2008


Yeah so today sucked (and not that conventional oh I stubbed my toe that sucked kinda way more like if one more jack hole looks at me wrong he is so drowning in his own blood kinda sucked) ugh the saddest part bout this as soon as this anger burns away ill be left feeling…Nothing. I spend many days numb and apathetic Burned out to all but the most intense of emotion. And this drains me even more…
I learned recently that I started crying in my sleep/ to me this is the most disturbing thing I could be told in my life. To me this means I can only feel when I aint awake…Scary. How does one live if one is perpetually pissed off or numb.
I can t do this much longer my lil bit o sanity that I covet is straining and stretching past its breaking point.
Least I got my meds and da wife and da bestest friend ever to ground me emotionally and to take the sharp pointy objects away from me when the urge to slice a bitch asses throat becomes way to inviting…And yes I see you bitch ass smirking believe you gots lucky!!@!!
GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR hopefully soon I.ll be calm relaxed and chilled ..And not working at the Pit! Till then remember…
That’s when we ride on bitches
You fucking faggot snitches
Were packing nines (actually its knives) \
Well leave you dead in ditches…
-Hollywood undead!
And as always keep all hands and feet till the ride is over I have been you operator…Now get the hell out
Peace!

Tuesday, May 20, 2008

Epic poem and thoughts of a new year older..

Part 1: the Players of the Game
Sadistic smile and a gleam in the wolf's eye
As he watches the little lamb die.
Wrapped in fur and leather and wearing big black boots
He hunts her down near the trees roots.
Forest primeval and the killers moon in the sky
He laughs as the Goddess sighs.
One last dream my dear one last hope
One last tear my love Its too hard to cope..
One last breath my fave one last sound
Don’t worry dear They wont disturb you under ground.
Dancing before the fallen ones
Her eyes blaze like a thousand suns.
The Dark Haired one wont be broken
Violent princess She’ll leave the men choking
On their own blood and the sour bile of guilt.
Then she will crush all the empires that they built.
One last time Boy one last Look
One more crime Boy One more hook
One more victory Hon one last Breathe
One more memory of your death.
In the grasp of the Queen
Is the leash for the beast unseen.
The whip and the lash
The sound of clinking cold hard cash.
Bought and sold
The Slaughter of the young and the old.
Her laughter deafens the wind
Her anger leaves the ground Skinned.
One last dagger my Toy One last time
One last vision My Bitch One last crime
One more moan Fucker One last cry
One more cut across your wrist till its your time to die..
The three players in this game.
The Wolf of man oh so untamed
The Princess who beauty is a virtue
And the Queen who’s anger is all too true.
The dice is cast
The race is on at last.
Fates hand is holding out for the final dance
And its up to them all to take that chance…..

Part 2: Blood on the Muzzle and Death on his Breathe…The Beast.
Wolf’s tail in moonlight unfurled
Like a battle standard.
All dagger hilts and leather.
He stands and commands the night
Like a general in the army.
Who is this Beast of man?
None will ever know.
Fate has played him his hand.
The last of the Wild in a time of civility.
The last grasp of Mother Nature to win.
Crying out in silence as flames burn his eyes.
The blood is on his muzzle
The Death on his breath.
The pain in his chest.
One last climb up that mountain and his journey is done
One last death and his victory is won.
Condemned by the gods.
Fallen avenger of the woods.
The last gasp of air of a time gone by.
He will see this through .
He got to do this to win the hand
Of his lady love.
The moonlight flashes off dagger steel,
And his laugh is heard through the valley this night.
Some one dies so he can live .
There is Blood on his muzzle
And Death on his breathe.
Curled up on his wild mattress of grass
The Beast dreams of love and freedom amongst the trees.
The laughter of children at play.
The love of his life by his side
The Princess of the people
And Mother of his pack.
There are tears on his muzzle and
Pain in his chest
Fate the cruelest of Bullies
Has cast out his die one more time.
Can this be true a warm hand in his
A kiss of purest bliss.
No death on his tongue or blade in his fist..
Can this be the end of the strife
Did he win or is this another Dream….



Part Three: Barbed wire Heart And The Stone Cold Love From A Shadow...The Princess
Holding back the tears from Eyes so blue.
You stand before her and she looks right through you…
The Nightbird of the Beast’s Heart
Has a Barbed Wire Heart
And the Cold Love of a Shadow of a grave.
Trapped in the past .
Of a time She cant remember.
The lifetime of anger rage and hate.
Has bled her dry to all but the Beast’ s love.
Hurt upon pain
The bruises that barely fade.
The scars on her beauty that belie her real age.
The entrapment between life and her loves
The gilded cage To this Nightbird is
The First or the Boy.
The Beast Or the Life everyone wants her to have.
The Barbed Wire of her heart cuts way to deep
All she wants is not to bleed for one damn day.
To sleep
Perchance to not screw this one up dearest God!
Raven haired and a little bit worn down round the edges.
She attacks her fate with bared blade of her sword.
The blood is just another tear that drips from her eye
Just to mingle with all the rest.
I am coming my Love I wont be Long..
Is her last thought before she drifts off
To dream perchance to Rid herself of this Stone Cold Love and
Wired Heart of Pain…
The Dream is so quite
And her face is covered in tears
Blue eyes drip crimson blood
And her mouth is smiling angelically to the moon.
Before is her future..
The Forest home of the Beast and Her King
Behind her lies her forgotten past.
Broken and boarded windows out looking
On to darkened alleyways and drugged out whores.
The cold hand of fate clasps her shoulder and pushes her forward
With this warning hissed into her brain
“the past can t stop you.
This pain only lasts so long.
The scars are you reminder
That you can never go home.
Flee to your protector Girl.
Your going to need his help.
The Queen wont wait forever
To have her prize
Flee little one
Your Barbed Wire Heart is slowly dulling
It cant cut you anymore
The Blood it pumps surely will warm that Cold Love of the shallow grave
The dream passed on…




Part 3: The Blackest Of Malice and The Deadliest Player Yet….The Queen.
The rustle of steel on silk
Bloody floors and flashing teeth
Spilled lives on the cemetery walls
Queen of the Forsaken and everything lost.
She smiles at screams and and laughs at the tears
One sick bitch she’ll come when you die
Holding your neck as life drains from your eyes
And kiss your forehead as they lay you in the casket.
Kneel before her with the knife at your throat
Then sleep with a smile from to ear to ear
As your life force drips drips drips on cold marble floors
And the sound of stilettos walking away ring in your ears.
This is the lady who rules the land
Mother to the Boy
And hated Keeper of the Beast
And the enemy of the Virgin Princess
This is hatred in flesh
The devil incarnate
In Black pvc and fishnet.
Leader of the known world and Fate’s Dead Mistress
She lays her head down to dream
Of freedoms last breathe.
The furtive gasp of humanity
As she strangles them all.
To end the dreams of many and all
To outlast the men who watched as she fall…




Ok thats my newest work of poetry and its kinda well as the title says epic lol! There will be new parts coming i swear.

As for today for y all who didn t read Tito's blog..Its me Bday! I am now twenty eight years OLD..Emphasis on old and as everyone is quick to point out almost thirty...UGH I aint too happy bout that ya know! I don t feel old and sure as heck do t act my age...But ugh Its there in black and white..

Tito has always said she can t wait to turn thirty and leave childhood behind...But i aint ready to put down all my childish things yet...Smiles evilly...Guess you gonna have to drag me away to sage thirty in my He man Underoos bitches LOLOLOLOLOL!

So in honor of being Bday of the Founder of da ride I end this post with a question (feel free to answer this dear readers) Is age a state of being etched in stone or just a number meaning lil and demanding so much more?

Till the wheels fall off da cart Ill forever be the one on the edge of da track...
Jpro.