MySpace - m - 28 - Male - Greeneville, Tennessee

Trent Reznor -

I beat my machine
It's a part of me
It's inside of me

I got my heart but my heart's no good

Kinda like a cloud
I was up way up in the sky
and I was feeling some feelings you wouldn't believe
sometimes I don't believe them myself and I decided I was never coming down
just then a tiny little dot caught my eye
it was just about too small to see
but I watched it way too long
and that dot was pulling me down

In my nothing
you meant everything
everything to me

We think we climb so high
all up the backs we've condemned
We face our consequence
this is the beginning of the end

We think we've come so far
on all our lies we depend
We face our consequence
this is the beginning of the end

Well I used to stand for something
but forgot what that could be
There's a lot of me inside you
maybe you're afraid to see
Well I used to stand for something
now I'm on my hands and knees
Traded in my god for this one
he signs his name with a capital G

You can have my isolation.
You can have the hate that it brings
You can have my absence of faith.
You can have my everything

I'd listen to the words he'd say
but in his voice I heard decay
The plastic face forced to portray
all the insides left cold and gray

I believe I can see the future
because I repeat the same routine
I think I used to have a purpose
and then again that might have been a dream

Sometimes it's just that nothing seems worth saving

Smashed up my sanity
Smashed up my integrity
Smashed up what I believed in
Smashed up what's left of me
Smashed up my everything
Smashed up all that was true
Gonna smash myself to pieces
I don't know what else to do

Remember what you said
you know, the part about life
is just a waking dream

I hope they cannot see
the limitless potential
living inside of me

Turn it up
Listen to the shit they pump into
your head
Filling you with apathy

And this is not my face
and this is not my life
and there is not a single thing here
I can recognize
this is all a dream
and none of you are real

I'm losing ground
well you know how this world can beat you down
and I'm made of clay
I fear I'm the only one who thinks this way

I want to do something, that matters.

Hey
can we stop?
me, I'm not

Message to no one in particular
And guess what?
Nobody loves you
Nobody cares
I was sent here to give you this message
Oh, that's right - you're different
Different than the rest
I forgot
I forgot
Well fuck you
And fuck fitting in to your scene
Fuck what you think

On hands and knees
We crawl
You can not stop us all
Our blood
Will stay
We will not go away

Yes I am alone but then again I always was
As far back as I can tell

See the animal in his cage that you built
Are you sure what side you're on?
Better not look him too closely in the eye
Are you sure what side of the glass you are on?
See the safety of the life you have built
Everything where it belongs
Feel the hollowness inside of your heart
And it's all right where it belongs
What if everything around you
Isn't quite as it seems
What if all the world you think you know
Is an elaborate dream?
And if you look at your reflection
Is that all you want it to be?
What if you could look right through the cracks
Would you find yourself - find yourself afraid to see?
What if all the world's inside of your head
Just creations of your own?
Your devils and your gods all the living and the dead
And you're really all alone?
You can live in this illusion
You can choose to believe
You keep looking but you can't find the woods
While you're hiding in the trees

Why does it come as a surprise
To think that I was so naive
Maybe didn't mean so much
But it meant everything to me

shame on us
doomed from the start
may god have mercy
on our dirty little hearts
shame on us
for all we've done
and all we ever were
just zeros and ones

Kurt Cobain -

"Music comes first. Lyrics are secondary.... Most of my lyrics are contradictions. I'll write a few sincere lines and then I'll have to make fun of it. I don't like to make it too obvious because if it is too obvious it gets really stale. You shouldn't be in people's faces 100% all the time. We don't mean to be really cryptic or mysterious but I just think that lyrics that are different and weird and spacey paint a nice picture. It's just the way I like art."
"I'm so happy 'Cause today I found my friends They're in my head. I'm so ugly, but that's okay 'Cause so are you."
John Lennon has been my idol all my life but he's dead wrong about revolution...find a representative of gluttony or oppression and blow the motherfucker's head off.
I mean I like to be passionate and sincere but I also like to have fun and act like a dork. Geeks unite.
To be positive at all times is to ignore all that is important, sacred or valuable. To be negative at all times is to be threatened by ridiculousness and instant discredibility.
Assassinate the greater and lesser of two evils.
I have absolutely no right to express my opinions until I know all of the answers.
No amount of effort can save you from oblivion.
It's really not hard to keep your dignity and sign to a major label...Most people don't have any dignity in the first place.
All drugs are a waste of time. They destroy your memory and your self-respect and everything that goes along with your self-esteem. They’re no good at all. But I’m not going to go around preaching against [them].
Yeah, I was run out of town. They chased me up to the castle of Aberdeen with torches. Just like the Frankenstein monster. And I got away in a hot air balloon. And I came here to Seattle.
If you're a really mean person you're going to come back as a fly and eat poop.
Jocks have completely taken over music...And just to get back at them, I’m going to start playing basketball.
I can't play like Segovia. The flip side of that is that Segovia could probably never have played like me.
I'd rather be hated for who I am, than loved for who I am not.

This song is dedicated to Frank Zappa, and River Phoenix, Fred Gwynne who played Herman Munster, Dixie Lee Ray, Thomas P, Tip O'Neil, and you, dumb ass, who just threw water on me.

Priya Hemenway - "Divine Proportion: Phi Φ in Art, Nature and Science"

...for the majority of people who imitate philosophers confuse the true with the false, and they do nothing but deceive and pretend knowledge, and they do not use what they know of the sciences except for base and material purposes; and if they see a certain person seeking for the right and preferring the truth, doing his best to refute the false and untrue and leaving aside hypocrisy and deceit, they make a fool of him and mock him.

Will Christopher Baer -

Hell's Half Acre -

If you lie to a child, he will smell it. He will smell the untruth coming from your skin like the sweet smell of rot and he may accept it or he may not, but he won't thank you for it.
Kiss me, Judas -
I used to be a dancer, she says. I was thirteen and I wanted to be famous.
How sad.
Don't you want to be famouse?
No.
She gazes at me, her mouth crooked.
There's something wrong with you, she says.
What's wrong with you? she says.
My reflection in the mirrored doors is shadowy, grotesque. I must look like a corpse to her.
Why don't you want to be famous?
I'm terrified of crowds.
Don't be afraid, she says.
The urge to kill her returns and I feel warm, as if the sun has slipped from behind a cloud.
Why would I be afraid?
I've already wounded you, she says.
Terribly.
But I can't hurt you anymore, she says.
No, I say.
...I'm pitifully drawn to her, like a moth. I remember when I was seventeen; I always went running back to the girls who tore my heart out.
Moon looks to the East, at the colorless sky.
Every day, he says. The sun has to eat it's way through clouds and smoke and poison.
Spare me, I say.
Love is a reptile, I say. Don't you think? If you cut off its tail, it grows another one.
I swear by American cars, he says. The first car I ever loved a woman in was a Cutlass Supreme. You can't maneuver properly in a little Nissan.
That's the trouble with this country, I say. Too much room for fucking.
You know those fat houseflies that drift around in winter? he says.
Like cows with wings, I say.
Exactly. You have the reflexes of a cow.
No, she says. I believe it's to the left.
Why? We haven't seen any tracks for miles.
Only because it's so dry and stony.
Why the left, though?
I just feel it, she says.

Jhonen Vasquez -

Johnny the Homicidal Maniac

Any pile of stunted growth unaware that entertainment is just that and nothing more, deserves to doom themselves to some dank cell, somewhere, for having been so stupid!! Movies, books, T.V., music - they're all just entertainment, not guidebooks for damning yourself!!

Sometimes... You can cry until there is nothing wet in you. You can scream and curse to where your throat rebels and ruptures. You can pray, all you want, to whatever god you think will listen. And, still, it makes NO difference. It goes on, with no sign as to when it might release you. And you know that if it ever did relent... It would not be because it cared.

Dear Die-ary, There's nothing terribly wrong with feeling lost, so long as that feeling precedes some plan on your part to actually do something about it. Too often a person grows complacent with their disillusionment, perpetually wearing their "discomfort" like a favorite shirt. I can't say I'm very pleased with where my life is just now... But I can't help but look forward to where it's going.

Emptyself -

I forget the ritual so pretend I said what a person should, and tap danced through this theatrical assembly of pretense and woe.

Too unquestioning, to see anything at all, find a way to run away, from your own sight. Always trusting in anyone who holds a gun against anything that you hate, cause you can't bare to relate.

I try to stay abstract and intact, but she pulls me to the flame, and silences the words, and leaves me here again.

Everything that breathes should know this, we're all crests of a wave with no end. And though we fade away... we are but the fruit.

The way to crash is to stay in the same direction for good.

J.D. Salinger -

The Catcher in the Rye
"All right. Listen to me a minute now.... I may not word this as memorably as I'd like to, but I'll write you a letter about it in a day or two. Then you can get it all straight. But listen now, anyway." He started concentrating again. Then he said, "This fall I think you're riding for-it's a special kind of fall, a horrible kind. The man falling isn't permitted to feel or hear himself hit bottom. He just keeps falling and falling. The whole arrangement's designed for men who, at some time or other in their lives, were looking for something their own environment couldn't supply them with. Or they thought their own environment couldn't supply them with. So they gave up looking. They gave it up before they ever really even got started. You follow me?"
"Yes, sir."
"Sure?"
"Yes."
He got up and poured some more booze in his glass.
Then he sat down again. He didn't say anything for quite a long time.
"I don't want to scare you," he said, "but I can very clearly see you dying nobly, one way or another, for some highy unworthy cause." He gave me a funny look. "If I write something down for you, will you read it carefully? And keep it?"
"Yes. Sure," I said. I did, too. I still have thie paper he gave me.
He went over to this desk on the other side of the room, and without sitting down wrote something on a piece of paper. Then he came back and sat down with the paper in his hand. "Oddly enough, this wasn't written by a practicing poet. It was written by a psycholanalyst named Wilhelm Stekel. Here's what he-Are you still with me?"
"Yes, sure I am."
"Here's what he said: 'The mark of the immature man is that he wants to die nobly for a cause, while the mark of the mature man is that he wants to live humbly for one."

.."I thought what I'd do was, I'd pretend I was one of those deaf-mutes. That way I wouldn't have to have any goddam stupid useless conversations with anybody. If anybody wanted to tell me something, they'd have to write it on a piece of paper and shove it over to me. They'd get bored as hell doing that after a while, and then I'd be through with having conversations for the rest of my life."

I went down by a different staircase, and I saw another "Fuck you" on the wall. I tried to rub it off with my hand again, but this one was scratched on, with a knife or something. It wouldn't come off. It's hopeless anyway. If you had a million years to do it in, you couldn't rub out even half the "Fuck you" signs in the wordl. It's impossible.

That's the whole trouble. You can't ever find a place that's nice and peaceful, because there isn't any. You may think there is, but once you get there, when you're not looking, somebody'll sneak up and write "Fuck you" right under your nose. Try it sometime. I think, even, if I ever die, and they stick me in a cemetery, and I have a tombstone and all, it'll say "Holden Caulfield" on it, and then what year I was born and what year I died, and then right under that it'll say "Fuck you." I'm positive, in fact.

It's funny. Don't ever tell anybody anything. If you do, you start missing everybody.

Albert Einstein -

Imagination is more important than knowledge. For knowledge is limited, whereas imagination embraces the entire world, stimulating progress, giving birth to evolution.

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