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The Cutest Boy On LiveJournal™ v4.0
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| re:boot |
[27 Jul 2006|02:25am] |
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 perversely happy |
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Hello, this is the CBOLJ speaking.
Due to unforseen difficulties with our current programming, we will be ngaging backups to handle overflow.
These backups may become the control. The last year has been on eof upheaval, and we hope to restablish a proper orbit. Fuck you if you say I haven't done anything lately. I've done more than you understand.
(that's directed at one person. no it's not my girlfriend)
It's hard to say.
and when it all falls away you come crawling back to me
We're happy to bring this service back to you.
It really means a lot.
Reallllly.
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| Very well. |
[07 Sep 2005|06:49am] |
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bna's breathing, rats eating, a dead man breathing, and me. |
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Ask and ye shall receive. After a good solid year of the Frankie project, I have been prompted to make some early moring judgements on it's progress. When initiated, we were quite aware of the dangers of giving over a good deal of our thought-space to an essentially "wicked", and I use the term loosely, Identity. We felt the dangers were worthwhile, however; having entered into a period of easy living, the Tempus entitiy became placid and shiftless. By retracting power from him, we set up a position where things could get better or they could get worse.
In our opinion, it was a drastic improvement.
But, change comes to all things, and in time too dear Frank must fall. Time for another restructuring; the passions of Black Rock City have energized me in a new way, not with the powerful posturing of the newly converted, but a comfortable amount of ideas and inspirations.
To this end, we the Self find it time to announce that f23 is no longer solely in charge of our day-to-day. We are, howver, very pleased with his performance, and thus give him lieutenant status. Who we are is yet to be defined. Please stay tuned.
He's not going anywhere anytime soon.
In the meantime, we will be starting a few new branches on the tree. We post in this journal as Tempus Thales is still the trunk. Do not dismiss his demotion as a lack of love; just a lack of immediate use. We are nothing without what we were. We will keep you posted.
We are large; we contain multitudes.
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[11 Jul 2004|02:45pm] |
Picking scabs out of my right nostril. Sitting alone in the dark. Writing in a dead man's journal.
fuck this noise, yo.
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[10 Apr 2004|04:18am] |
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mood |
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 awake |
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music |
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Amelie |
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And maybe I'll go to Paris.
And maybe I'll go to Paris and work in a cafe and write letters to people I haven't met yet.
And maybe I'll screw up my life how I want to without worrying about the rest of you and what you think.
And myabe I'll go to Paris.
And maybe I'll fall in love with someone who doesn't even know me.
And maybe they'll feel it too but I won't tell them like I can barely tell them now because none of them love eachother.
And maybe I'll go and move to Paris.
and maybe I'll go to Paris.
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| For Kohl: |
[02 Mar 2004|04:46pm] |
I could drown you in a torrent of my tears, but that wouldn't be right.
Maybe we should just watch the stars, and pretend it's alright.
HBecause tomorrow the sun will rise, and there'll be no more night.
Maybe we should just watch the stars, and make it through the light.
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[02 Mar 2004|03:54pm] |
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mood |
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 scared |
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Don't you know by now,
I've enough tears inside,
that my soul does bow
and bulge with the tide.
My eyes are frozen shut
sealed off to spare you
You say you want it but
I'm still waiting to scar you.
Enough tears for a thousand
miseries and injustices
the beach's grains of sand
lack numbers to my houses.
Salt and brine, they well inside
but my heart just can't let go.
I cling and claw, dead man's hide.
I'm terrified, don't you know?
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[11 Oct 2003|03:24pm] |
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You get that tightness under your left breast where the worm sits wrapped around your heart like the demonbeast it is, it has been, the way it's lodged in there like some dark dragon guarding the world from the fires inside. But tonight the worm is cold, and constricted. Fear finds easy root in such lush soil, pressed upwards agianst your ribcage like loamy soil rising from the earth. But we know how bitter that root is, and we drive it out with flame and fury, forceful frenzied faith blasting away the fitful weeds and their tainted seeds.
"If faith were easy, it wouldn't be worth anything."
We'll be home soon. Soon.
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| Oh, and incidentally. |
[08 Sep 2003|12:59pm] |
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Fuck you, my sweet pet. Fuck you for being so beautiful.
Fuck you for still holding part of my heart when I'm in love with my jealous twin. Fuck you for being so good about it.
Fuck you for loving my friend, my brother, when I know he can treat you better than I could. Fuck you for falling for it.
Fuck you, down on your knees, begging me for what I cannot give you but wish I could. Fuck you for making me want to.
Fuck me, for I am trapped in my own web. Fuck me for loving you.
Fuck me.
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[08 Sep 2003|12:10pm] |
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mood |
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 pensive |
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music |
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Scorn - 2 Seconds |
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Six months ago I didn't know fear.
I mean, yeah, I'd been afraid in the past, but I wasn't anymore. I'd gotten over it, gotten past it. Or so I'd thought. Really, I didn't have anything to be afraid of. I didn't have anything of value to lose. Fear, like sin, is seperation anxiety, the concept of being set apart, of being a have-not. I didn't have anything, and I didn't care.
Then I met her.
A broken little sparrow in my hands, afraid and hurt, battered badly at the hands of one she trusted, she had no where to turn, except into the clawful paws of this slick predator. And I watched the little bird, and smoothed her feathers, and thought how nice she would taste when I finally devoured her. And every night I'd talk to the little bird, and every night I'd think, "Tomorrow, tomorrow we'll do it."
And I'd sleep and dream of her.
Now the little bird has grown strong again, and she stands upright and proud, her feathers in array and her crows loud and strong. I can't remember when I stopped thinking about devouring her, when I stopped dreaming of eating her whole and spitting out the bones to the ground. It just changed. Now I love my little bird, and want to keep her by me.
And now, I again know fear.
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[01 Sep 2003|08:56pm] |
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mood |
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 enthralled |
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Once again I return from my sojourn in the desert, made stronger and harder by the burning flames of the man and the hot hot sand and the tears and the beers and even all the fucking queers running around with their dicks hanging out painted silver and gold with green sparkles and black leather cockrings. I am inspired, fulfilled, an essential element of my soul is recharged and reborn.
**************************************
We grow, we change.
Deification comes slowly for some souls, and rushes onto some shoulders like a mantle from the abyss.
Luckily, we're strong enough to bear it.
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[22 Aug 2003|07:44pm] |
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mood |
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 bouncy |
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music |
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Big Star |
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For one night only, The Cutest Boy On LiveJournal will be in attendance at the Vogue in Seattle, WA for drinking and dancing to the industrial-goth soundz. If anyone would like to meet me there so's I may mooch booze and smokes off of them, it would be, in a word, groovy
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| Poll time! |
[04 Aug 2003|11:29am] |
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amused |
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The Damned - Love Song |
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Poll #164418 Let's Talk About You:
Open to: All, detailed results viewable to: All How did you find this journal? What's kept you here? Do you feel that, over the last year, the quality of this journal has: Do you read ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) frankie23 on a regular basis? Which do you prefer to read? On a scale of one to ten, rate me. Finally, is there anyone more deserving of the title of Cutest Boy On LiveJournal™ than I?
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[03 Aug 2003|08:13pm] |
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I've said sorry enough times to fill a bible of apologies, I've bled for my sins enough times to grow a crop of crosses. Again I plead forgiveness and again you grant it only to accuse me of sinning once again. The initial wound is not allowed to heal drawn deeper and more infected as the days pass, a slight throb, an accidental nudge and it pulses anew with rage and hate, seething and corrupting what once could have been called love but is unrecognizable in it's current state, curled up and wrapped up inside of itself in fear of fear, expecting betrayal and deception, manipulation and confusion, deceit and despair, but it's just not fair. It's just not fair.
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[01 Aug 2003|05:13pm] |
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mood |
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worried |
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What's the matter? What just happened? Why is my head ringing like a four-alarm?
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[23 Jul 2003|04:06pm] |
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mood |
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 horny |
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I want to make love to the poetry in your head, stick my tongue in the words and lick them up and down till they dribble their violent language down my chin like white milk from a virgin's breast.
I want to fuck your prose, pound it hard and fast, heat it up and beat it down till it is fine and sharp and cuts me when I touch it. I want to pierce myself with your sentences, decorate my body in jewelry I've forged from you steel pearls that fall from your lips when you tell me how much you hate.
I want to slap you so hard the sigils pour out of your mouth in a foul spill, unknown languages and barbaric tongues ripped from the inner parts of your subconcious, a brimming babbling brook of BABEL singing sweetly to me in dischordant tones and incommunicable conversations.
Do you hear me my scarlet whore, my lady in red? Nearer and nearer you come to the flames but our evil will not be enough to fuel them forever. We need meat and bone, sinew and blood to fuel our macabre machinery, we need the blessings of DIONYSUS, the raw thrust of his loins spilling hot piss down our thirsty throats and baptizing us in his holy urine. Shit to shit, blood to blood.
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[22 Jul 2003|04:30pm] |
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mood |
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 exhausted |
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"When routine bites hard, and desperation takes hold..."
I never thought I'd be able to fall in love with someone who hated Joy Division. Funny how things work out sometimes, isn't it? I remember lying in my room at my parents house smoking pot and listening to Substance on vinyl, soft analog sadness wrapping around my wrists like creeping vines, chaining me to my bed and lashing me with their barbs.
"I've lost control again."
The fear takes on many forms for me. I only get this way when I've something I know is worthwhile. Only afraid when I've something to lose. Usually I've nothing to lose, but the control. The control keeps the fear down, makes it manageable. But it's not perfect. Sometimes I say something, do something, and hurt those I love, and the emotional feedback jars me. Flips the breakers and the whole thing blows up in my face, and the fear emerges like a rush of ghosts from a high voltage laser containment system that just got shut off by an ignorant civil servant. Boom.
"If you want to leave me / If you want to just throw me away / I'll be down in a second"
They always leave after they see it. Some fast, some slow, but they've always gone. Each and every last one. At least, the one's who didn't leave before they got that sneak peek of the scared little boy I hide inside. All gone, keep moving, pass on through. Nothing personal, yes?
"Then there was you."
But she's different. So perfectly different. That's why she's mine.
"With this ring, I thee wed."
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[17 Jul 2003|02:13pm] |
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You lazy ass about getting drunk, and tell her, eyes. On, the night, when I could all creeping into your continuum and knowing that binds it just take what really get it it love you, since high on an old man's body with the one too fucking terrified. No is Very clearly for the door of you can hurt you won't tire of mine and white stripes for so only by a few hundred meters, and cropped haircut; stolen touch and place, then looks around Pete nods, and looks Dobbs go to go take what you cry! I want to be him to accept the key in a man, Bob Dobbs go, go now. His way I used to seen you so, they might be allowed out to my head at people here In going to Win a honey Matter of tea, and hands the door slides into a another to your life at and Bob a Matter of you there, Man in the friend.
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[10 Jul 2003|10:26am] |
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mood |
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 determined |
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music |
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The Meteors - She's A Zombie Now |
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"Fear, fear, fear, of the unknown."
It's only late at night when it sets in usually, the cold hard pit of confusion and cramped chaos that threatens to pour out of your throat like some obscene Pollack painting that was never supposed to see the light of day, a perverse sculpture of half-digested apples and coughdrops against a canvas of black serge and beige khakis.
"Pour champagne on a honey bee."
Yes I'm afraid. Yes I'm fucking terrified. I have to do something now, don't you understand. It's not theory anymore, it's practice. It's one thing to go with the flow, it's another to direct the river into a new channel.
"Big bad chaos mage, can't handle a fucking stream."
And a hearty fuck you too Frank. Half of the trouble here. The new orientations of our souls seems to be working in odd ways. I don't know how to be afraid anymore. I forgot, lost it in years of carelessness. I called it fearlessness, but that's not really accurate. It's not that I couldn't be afraid, it's that I couldn't be fucked to care enough to be afraid. And now I'm just lonely.
"Non-linear coils converted into a linear stream will increase energy throughput by a factor of ten."
Charged up and ready to rock, it'll all be fine as long as the inertia doesn't kill me first. I'm chained again, chomping at the bit. My patience is slipping. I just want to go go go now. Now I say. NOW.
"Catch the leaves until you regain your calm."
In through the nose, out through the mouth, in through the belly out through the cock, I'll get through, same way I always do. One stubborn foot in front of the next, one moment after another. Time is not my enemy, but my friend; Fate is not my master, but my slave.
"You forget, I'm a god.
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| Today was the last day of the beginning of my life. |
[24 Jun 2003|03:54pm] |
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"My bags are packed, I'm ready to go..."
And you push her gently away from you as her lingering lips reach forward for one more stolen touch and you tell her to go with a smile and spin around quickly so she doesn't see the diamonds in the corners of your eyes.
"Things are never going to be the same, you realize that, right?"
It's such a strange thing holding a stranger in your arms and knowing them so well, holding a lover close and looking at her face for the first time, touching her soft skin and seeing her eyes up close and personal beaming love and devotion like a lighthouse on stormy shores offering welcome and solace.
"I want to grow up with you."
Coming from someone who cherishes her childlike aspects like a librarian cherishes books, that is no small thing.
"I love you."
Say it a thousand times, I won't tire of it. Already, I will never doubt it. It's not been an hour, and I miss you. I love you too.
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[18 Jun 2003|02:15pm] |
Cheese, but I feel like bandwagon jumping today...
| tempusthales | | Magic Number | 6 | | Job | Most Hated Person - Ever | | Personality | Sunshine And Blue Skies | | Temperament | Best Not To Ask | | Sexual | Straight | | Likely To Win | A Duel With Pistols | | Me - In A Word | Compassionate | | Colour | | | Brought to you by MemeJack |
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