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humanequalsgarbage.tumblr.com

it took me 21 years to finally accept....

it took me 21 years to finally accept....

i just might be awesome.

nah.

fuck that.

not just might be.

i'm fucking awesome.

for what feels like the first time in my life, i like myself.

i'm a cool motha fucka.

i write, and its really not as shitty as i make it out to be.

i get laid, even though i think i'm disgusting.

i'm stubborn with my beliefs, and I actually stick with em no matter how radical they are.

i got style motha fucka, i like my clothes. i'm a seamstress, bitch! i take normal everyday clothes from target and sew em up and make them original and dope.

i got a good job, i don't take it seriously, and i have enough cash to pay rent, eat and support all my addictions and necessities.

i live in los angeles, and i love it.

i got a beautiful girlfriend, and shes kinky and fucked up just like me.

i've been doing performances since 2007, and as of lately i do them at least twice a month, it used to scare the shit out of me and make make me want to puke but now i CRAVE perfoming.

today i saw a reflection of myself against a stain glass window, and i actually thought to myself "lookin' good sucka!"

i'm a handsome bastard, that's right, took me years to ever think that.

i listen to awesome music, and it makes me happy as fuck. i'm fortunate to have seen a bunch of great musicians live.

i dont watch reality tv, or really any tv at all, and i dont care much about modern pop culture, i like that.

i actually read, and i read good books, i don't just collect a bunch of books and never read them or start them and never finish.

i run a publishing collective with my friends and have my words and the words of my friends published in zines that are all over LA and not just that, there are people who have copies in oregon, new york, washington, LONDON and AUSTRALIA (what the fuck!?).

i've got some real good friends, might not see them much or ever, but when i know they are around when it really comes down to it.

i'm a weird bastard, and people accept me for who i am (work excluded).

i'm healthy, i eat well, ride my bike every day and dont drink as much everyday as i used to.

i do the things i want and how i want, i don't get myself stuck in situations i don't like.

in the last year i haven't done drugs or got arrested!

it took me 21 years to finally accept....

i like my life and i'm happy

MMMYYYYYYYYYYYYYFFFAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCCCCCCCCCEEEEEEE, IHATEMYSELF.COM

internetz, myface, whathavewebecome.com, i dont need to go to art school because i have a tumblr (c) 2010

for all the time
she spent
doing her makeup
for her profile picture

for all the time
he spent
picking artsy photos
and setting up the perfect sequence
to post
on his tumblr

for all the time
she spent
thinking of something clever
rewriting it five times
perfecting the wording
to post
on his wall

for all the time
he spent
making commentary on it
breaking the idea
into several sentances
and adding poetic style
to post
on his blog (or his notes)

we could of
been so creative
we could of
applied all that effort
to so much
oh
all the beautiful things
we could of done
with that time

my pistol doesnt shoot, it just kinda drips...all over my sheets, when i pull out of you.

the black sheets of my twin bed
coated in a fog of sex strains and cigarette ash
my pistol doesn't shoot, it just kinda drips
all over my sheets, when i pull out of you
i cant help but wonder
out of insecurity, out of curiosity
am i defect?
are my little soldiers weak
lazy maybe
procrastinators like me?
unable to make it to their mark
i hope so
because i dont think of baby names
because i dont plan on having babies
but i still cant help but wonder
was it all the drugs through puberty?
was it all the times i was kicked in the nads?

when i think back on puberty
when i think back on my younger self
i almost cant believe that shit
im surprised i didnt try to kill myself multiple times
i cant imagine what it must had been like
to walk by me in the halls

i feel ugly
all the time
but back then
i think there may had been some truth to it
of course
im sure i was probably to blame
not just the hormones
if i wanted to do something about it
i should have

doing lots and lots of drugs
took care of the weight
made me feel like skeletor
but not as cool as skeletor
in fact
it made me feel uglier about myself
because it wasnt about appearance

before i got laid
i used to think my penis was deformed
hormone deficiency
ran in my family
my sister was never able to develop tits properly
she had to get operations to even them out
and i used to think
i had a tiny baby penis
i used to tell everyone i know

it was nice knowing my penis isnt deformed
still not huge
but not deformed
or atleast ive been convinced
by filthy cunts!!!
whom ive loved

even when ive got women frequenting my bed
my black stained sheets
i still feel ugly
afraid
even though i act like an asshole
and slap em around
try to show them im in control
i still feel
weak
tiny
a boy
who looks ridiculous
has a deformed penis
cant write for shit

dan
the pseudo intellect
the pseudo writer
the pseudo bohemian
the pseudo vegan
the pseudo punk
the pseudo romantic
the pseudo comedian

GET OVER YOURSELF FAGGOT!!!!

im so alternative....

im so alternative....

that i started a new band and got signed within twenty minutes of thinking of the name (FUCK YEAH TWITTER),

it's a post-pop punk lo-fi shoegaze neo mccarthyism indie nu-folk techno-breakbeak-grindcore dub, power trio!

its like 80s hardcore had a threesome with tom waits and devandra banhart during the early 2000 pop explosion and then had an abortion at a hospital in silverlake where sonic youth played on tour with built to spill, and then that aborted fetus survived, because it was saved by the members of blind melon,

but then when it was walkin the streets of hollywood, it got finger banged by bon jovi while robert smith watched and jacked off while he talking on the phone to dolly parton who was at that very moment de-virginizing morrissey while listening to the Cars,

and then afterwords, the aborted fetus got married to devo and black sabbath attended the wedding, and then devo and the aborted baby had a baby that looked like a deformed lady gaga but had the voice of george harrison and the fingers of joni mitchell....

but before the baby got to the age of three it was eaten by a pack of black metal hypnotized wolves in norway, who then ate synthasizers and puked them up onto wu tang clan.

and thats what it sounds like

yeah, the records coming out soon, but it only comes out of 5" vinyl and vhs tape, better get it quick, its limited to 3.


tweet you later, brosef

romantic drunks drunk on drunken romance

it only takes three drinks
for me to fall in love
but it takes
months and months of winter
sweating underneath a mountain of sheets
with a bottle of something heavy
against my lips
to recover
from love

and so i cling to the gutters
and the alley ways
on that side of the tracks
where love aint found
a deadbeat whose dead beat
i hide beneath the dirt
and find comfort in the dead

uptown, downtown, underground via metro
looking for something to snack on
complex, dirty, untamable
deadbeats who are dead beat
the type
that doesn't want to know your name
and wont whisper
baby
in your ear

up, down, and sloshed on drink
looking for something to hold onto
instinct drops as we fall from the barstool
intuition becomes a lost puppy
and splashes with loud expression
against the bottom
of the wishing well

and so i let go
of that fear
and whisper
baby
in a sirens ear

drunk on it
for that sweaty moment
only to be revived
between dawn and the tick of the clock where cars start piling up on the freeway
then its
pants, socks, shoes and shirt
peck on the cheek
soft enough not to wake

and so i let go
of whatever feeling it was
and its
uptown, downtown, underground via metro
clinging to the gutters
and the alley ways
on that side of the tracks
making my way
back to that mountain of sheets

boy, you're going to carry that weight, carry that weight for a long time

when i was 14
i crippled my father
i still carry that weight
every day