fall_children daxle I get these reoccuring thoughts that won't leave me for days or weeks, things that don't seem to have a point or a reason for example: I saw someone walking on telegraph with a frozen yogurt last weekend, and I cannot stop wanting frozen yogurt and yet I know of no way to get any and it's not like I'm usually a bog fanatic of the stuff, so I just keep eating yogurt and ice cream instead but it's never satisfying second example:I keep thinking of scenarios where I am with a group of people and there's this weird smell, and I'm eventually able to identify the smell as bong water, and that's it, that's all, no point whatsoever it even invades my dreams: I keep realizing suddenly that my hair has grown long (well shoulder length) and then I brush it and it keeps growing as I do and it's usually black, as if that were my natural hair color (that would be rad, but it's not true) furthermore I feel compulsed to blather even though I rarely read all the posts under a subject or even all the recent subjects and am usually not satisfied in anyway by the experience. you'd think if I was just writing to write I could do it elsewhere, since I don't even receive attention from this since people rarely acknowledge my presence here oh, and this has nothing to do with the song fall children I went to get a cd and couldn't decide between 311 (grassroots) or AFI (shut your mouth and open your eyes) and I finally decided on 311, but the cd starts up and... it's afi. whoops I am really getting off on saying things that have no importance here... this is great I'm wondering if guitar freak is serious about this suicide thing I know better than to trust myself when I start contemplating suicide because I have never gone through with it, even at my lowest moments, and nothing that has happened lately has been enough to bring me even near to where I was I wonder if people don't notice the scars on my forearm or just choose not to say anything about them. They call it a suicidal act, but I always did it to feel better, and it usually worked, and so maybe actually saved me from suicide. So there. 001108 ... silentbob ...but i acknowledge you here. 001108 ... amy But Daxle. you don't leave a lot of spaces for people to pay you attention about. When people don't respond to my blathes, I think I haven't really provoked them. it's my_bad, if i wanted a response and didn't get one. Me and typhoid spent like two hours arguing over your gender, though. 001108 ... klairchen I like it when no one responds to my blathes. When I am writing about something that I feel only I can understand and someone replies, it scares me a little. Like that someone spent an extra minute of their day just to read and respond to my blathe. Then only to change the course of their fate and walk outside and get hit by a bus or something of that nature. That bus would not have been there a minute earlier. Yes, it is scary. 001109 ... daxle I wasn't saying that I either wanted people to respond to my blathes or not. I was just speculating that since they usually don't, I couldn't (can't) figure out why I blathe at all. It would seem to be no better than writing on paper, for no one to see. But then, I don't have a book full of random words and phrases just waiting for me to say something about them, so I guess that it the magic of blather. 001109 ... daxle As the cries start to penetrate still air, this day we celebrate. The wait now ends. From four corners smoke plumes into reddened sky. In the face of latern light, my destiny flies. This day so hallowed, from here to forever its will I will follow. Tonight will come to life. Deadened branches stirred by whispers in the wind. Fall children fill the streets at dusk, at last, it all will begin. 010106 ... .sunshine. the fall children are full of life and exuberance and don't know what they talk about but talk anyway because it's what makes them cool. please don't fall. 010505 ... paranoid martyr As the cries start to penetrate still air, this day we celebrate. The wait now ends. From four corners smoke plums into reddened sky. In the face of latern light, my destiny flies. This day so hallowed, from here to forever its will I will follow. Tonight will come to life. Deadened branches stirred by whispers in the wind. Fall children fill the streets at dusk, at last, it all will begin. 030707 ... x de ja poop 030707 what's it to you? who go blather from