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| 08:51pm 01/02/2009 |
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GIRUBANG (ギル뱅) 1st Single
GLOWING ANGRY SUNSET JUICE
The collaboration between Japanese rock band Girugamesh and Korean pop band Big Bang. Angry Juice by Girugamesh is crossed with Big Bang's song Sunset Glow, creating a choppy, horrendous mix of music and metal.
(Mash by me. Cover art by Mo-Chan. Idea by both :3 )
DOWNLOAD: http://www.sendspace.com/file/n33nvl |
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(let's take a walk) |
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| 10:50pm 21/01/2009 |
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I am covered from head to toe in chocolate. What started as a friendly gesture has turned into a horrible battle, in which my skills as a chocolatier being threatened. I had to do it.
And now I am covered in white, dark, blue and peanut butter chocolate. Head to toe. I normally would eat it off myself, but after all that...
...
Any takers? |
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(1 rejection | let's take a walk) |
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| 10:11pm 17/12/2008 |
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music: Space Halo - Olivia Lufkin
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I'm actually using this and I'm impressed with myself.
Huh.
Turns out I may not show for the last week of school before winter break. Someone (I say someone because my relation to him is sort of screwy) I've known pretty much all my life may die. So I'm a bit bummed about that. Watch as she loses sleep over it, eats nothing but rice crackers and drinks copious amounts of water.
He went to the hospital because he wasn't feeling well, and I guess they discovered that he has like, severe Gangrene on his back. They actually said they type of Gangrene it is is not unlike the flesh eating virus. Wicked. Emergency surgery - 50/50 dance he'll live - he makes it through this week, he should be okay.
The thought is just a bit upsetting.
(ps. Any of you chumps heard of Olivia Lufkin? She's pretty much the shit.) |
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(9 rejections | let's take a walk) |
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| You'll Make It If It Kills You |
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| 08:05pm 12/06/2008 |
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Your only mistake in life was that you never learned to love. Arguably, that led to your general casualness in the presence of death, and your coldness to the world and the people that lay scattered upon its surface. In your mind you convinced yourself that you don’t need friends or care; didn’t need the sun on your face and the wind blowing chills onto your already frosty skin. And you glanced over scenes that moved mountains with their poignancy with glacial eyes, uncaring of the impressions they scathed into the souls of your steadily decreasing acquaintances and the world beyond them. The children freezing on the street corners weren’t sympathized with in you, and the empathy that was supposed to fill you left you hollow. But you, you, lacking all that was humane and charitable, never minded the gaping in your chest, the way the edges of the hole grew cold as you walked in the dreary nights.
Alone, your feet tapped the surface of the worn asphalt, trekking the gaunt city as if it was all they could do.
And truly, it was.
What is it like, I wonder, to be so desolate in yourself that the worries of others remain unknown to your mind; unfathomable and distant? The nights you lock yourself in your room and refuse to leave cause all to fret and perspire, but you don’t mind I the slightest. Their worrying glances and words of concern elude your ears, almost as if they step right around the barrier you placed yourself in. As if they, like you do them, avoid you.
Buried in your own mind, did you ever stop to think that the world isn’t as bleak as you take it to be?
No, you didn’t – you wouldn’t – as your convictions are backed up with so much false logic and belief that it burns those that surround you. You think you’re informed, but have you ever stopped to think that all the information you’ve stored in your head is based on your own teachings, and not of the educated world that surrounds you?
No, you didn’t – you wouldn’t – what with all the lies you’ve heard from the educated, from the ‘they’ that everyone seems to listen to so keenly. ‘They’, you reason, could be mythomaniacs.
Anyone, you point further, could be a compulsive liar in his or her own way.
You know you are.
But you’re so eager in the vindication of your name that you refuse to admit it aloud, because inside you know it and it terrifies you. Petrified, you are, to draw resemblance to the world you abhor.
But your lies, you reason, were all for good. To escape the narrow walls that close in and suffocate you, your creativity.
Your mind.
Walls that reach up so high skyward that you can’t see where they end and the heavens begin; your lies that get you out of the emptiness and into the seclusion of yourself.
You keep your lies close to you, buried somewhere deep in the mirth of your heart. And all the half-truths you told your mother just to get out of the house and into the clean, breathable air were never any help to you, littering your conscience and weighing you down with guilt.
Guilt, you decide, is the worst form of conviction.
Conviction you further, is what lead you to the abandonment of your life.
Your life, you conclude, was never much worth living anyways.
But you, to ashamed to admit that you’ve grown to loath the image of yourself. An image held in your mind and picked apart by your judgmental conscious.
Too this; too that.
Too bad; too bad.
And you know that self impalement is the strongest form of cowardess, so you ignore it’s hanging presence, pretend your feet haven’t led you from the empty city streets to the premise of it, and move on with your life each day, determined to make it through the year, even if it kills you. You’ll wait until your life tapers off into a memory, and watch helplessly from the almost omniscient view you have of yourself as you go from reality to resistance to phantasm.
Ignis fatuus, they say.
If ever there was a sentence more accurate, you hadn’t known it.
And you’re thoughts are trailing off to nowhere; your sentences run-on and your words slurred with doubt. You can’t think progressive and everything’s backtracking to a place you’ve never really been but, for some unfathomable reason, can’t bring yourself to leave. They’ll call you mad as your hallucinations become more and more your accepted form of factuality, and you won’t tell them that you think they’re just as lost as you.
Lost in the pinks and blues, and all the hues that trace the horizon.
Lost in the society, laced in sick.
Lost in the eyes of the imposing truths that they push to be false.
Lost in the fake and the honest and the belligerent persons, who hold so much wealth it’s revolting.
But you swear, you do, that you’ll make it through this year, even if it kills you. You promise that you won’t keel over anytime soon. And even if the weight on your chest increases every morning upon waking, and your ability to fall to a bliss less slumber fails you, and you become further enwrapped in the heart attacks your convinced you have, you’ll make it through this year, even if it kills you. If it should choose to curtail sooner than your loving family had anticipated, you don’t mind.
Because you’re impassive and old in the young domain, and your proclamations of such are redundant.
Because your only mistake in life was that you never learnt to love.
Because you’ve grown accustom to the abandonment of being alone.
Because you lack humanity and a sense of reality.
Because there’s a gaping in your chest that resists any sort of patching or repairmen…
It almost killed you. |
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(13 rejections | let's take a walk) |
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| Friends Only / ともだちのにっきです。 |
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| 05:42pm 17/11/2007 |
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Sorry guys; Post to this journal are friends only.
Feel free to add me to your friends list, given, your my friend first.
Or, leave a comment if I know you~ ^___^;;
Thanks for understanding!
ありがとう！ばいばい！
~Jake |
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(10 rejections | let's take a walk) |
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bucket_of_tsuki's journal
