Tanka

A gift of burden,

she donated to

teach me a lesson.

But all that I learned, is

to run away from her death.

Tellif.

If you are not in the majority you are wrong.

"Why, that's bullshit, sir. What if the majority is wrong?"

What you say is going against fundamental cornerstones of Democracy! Of Capitalism! Of the God-blessed U S of A! Out infidel, LEAVE!

Something to that effect occured a few days ago in English.  The class received our test scores.  I did well, but one of the questions and my subsequent "incorrect" answer troubled me. Upon asking her, I debated the reasoning for my case.

Oh, that is a very intriguing answer. I can see why you thought that, and you defended your case excellently. Class, who else put (somebullshitmultiplechoiceletter) for #32?

We'll stay conservative and call it seven hands.

Oh my, it does appear that you are not in the majority.  I am terribly sorry, but your answer just does not have basis now.

.....

What the fuck? The majority is the deciding factor? The majority thought the Jews were the cause of their problems; Churchill himself was for anti-Semitism. So, the destruction of the Jewish culture is then warranted? The death of JESUS CHRIST is then warranted? No, not just warranted. Upon this premise of the majority rules no matter how retarded, the rest of the public is left to ascertain that the death of JESUS CHRIST was GOOD?

I'm atheist, and even I think that's fucked up.

My wall is my door

I've noticed there is blood on my wall

I've noticed there is blood on my wall

I stumbled upon it when my cat did too

But she's probably known of it for some time.

It froze me for a second or two

I'm not proud of it, I worried too soon

I thought I'd have to do something about it

But there's not enough wet to wash it in time.

I thought of what to do with it

And collected a piece of it, just a bit

I drove it to town, up in downtown

Cute girl at the desk was mad for taking my time.

The first scientist analyzed with a frown

And the second seconded his concluded frown

I thought it to be an aimless endeavor

But I needed to do something with my time.

I came home washed blood from my wall

I came home washed blood from my wall

I came home washed blood on my wall

I came home washed blood on my wall

Earlier before this time

I should've explained, but I was scared:

The wall is a door is a wall is a door is a wall is a door is my wall is my door;

I'm scaring my scares by opening the sores.

Flawed/Awe

It's been awhile, and maybe for the worse.

"I think I'm a bad person. I do this this and this.  But, maybe I just have flaws."

Well, hang-on here.  Flaws? Flaws are negative.  Flaws are imperfections.  A flawed diamond fetches for less than the flawless-lifeless variant.  

Flaws, yes, are bad. 

When, pray tell, do you stop being flawed and end up bad?  Because, I'm trying to be honest, it's not cute, and it's not a "don't you love me so?" kinda thing.

let's not shit ourselves

Find someone that loves you at your best and worst. That should be the one you love. The convenient thing is that you might just love this other person at their best and worst. Then you can love each other.

"People sometimes complain that too many of the songs deal with love and the loss of it. The way I feel, it's the most important thing in life; why the hell wouldn't I sing about it?"

"To love and to be loved, let's hope that is enough."

electable

"Love would be something that I'd just know"

power pop.I know, I know. But it's catchy, good melody, and I like it.

Seventeen years old and this has gotten already old

All the talk about what was said and who it was told,

to yeah I know that this is normal but that doesn't mean

that things outside these walls are better than they sadly seem

Cause if they aren't... I don't know what I will do

One more year and quote "I'm getting out of this shitty town"

But now my friend has gotten me scared bout what he has found

He says that all the crap is still the same with different namesandI...

I don't know what I will do. If what he says is true.

I don't know what I will do. Oh no I haven't got a clue

There's your answer then.

Game over. Good effort from me. Titanic even. I kept it alive far more than I should have.

This should have a "starting over" tone of voice, but I can't shake the memories that have latched on, goading me to try some more, what can you lose, yeah?

My life, apparently.

Dizzy

You said you'd never have regrets.
Jesus, is there someone yet,
who got that wish?
Did you get yours, babe?

fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck

Immature title. I know. Don't mention it.

2 weeks is up. No contact. That plan of attack, or lack thereof, is over. Now, you're not supposed to change tactics in mid-game, cause it gets confusing, people get hurt, plays get fumbled. 

Too fucking bad.

That's the longest I've sat on my ass not doing anything in my entire life. So much for waiting.

So Schramm, you've got options. Sweet.

1. Cry off, abandon ship, isolate and incinerate, and move the fuck on.

^^^Serious? Fuck that. Option 2 is where it's at.

2. Talk to her. No game-plan. No planning. No real display of tactics or intelligence. 

^^^Way better. See, this is more like me. This is where I experience the greatest amount of success.  Will it work this time? Who knows? I'm really not too concerned with that mild ramification. What matters is that I'm sick of being tired and tired of being sick of waiting on her to make a move. Maybe I've had it wrong all along. Maybe she's the one oppressed by a violent wave of guilt. By maybe, I mean, it makes complete sense. I'd be guilty to if I talked about how much I cared about a girl for weeks on end, "fell" for them, did things, and left. Cause I still haven't been honest as to what things are. Too bad. 

Damn that phrase. It's showing up too much. That typically means that the writer is at his wit's end and is preparing to make a monumental mistake that might cost him his heart.

But I might as well. It's not like I possess it anyways.

How I wish you could see the potential, 
the potential of you and me 
It's like a book elegantly bound, 
but in a language that you can't read just yet 
You gotta spend some time love, you gotta spend some time with me 
And I know that you'll find love, I will possess your heart 
You gotta spend some time love, you gotta spend some time with me 
And I know that you'll find love, I will possess your heart 

mountain range in my living room

According to Myspace(definitive guide to life), the one I feel so strongly for is "vibrant," while the one that I would kill for this is "chipper."

Of course they still have pictures together. Oh, and you know, are seen together making out behind the car daily.

This is the slowest I have bounced back from anything. I do mean anything.

wearewhowewerewhen

I present a dichotomy. Or, I seem to. I throw character curve-balls to keep people from getting close. I think I want more people to get close. I have a pretty large and awesome group of friends. We do dumb stuff, and it is fun. I feel selfish about it though, cheap, because I think that the reason we're doing so much recently is so that "Schramm isn't thinking about her." I would not say that it is affecting anyone - well, besides me - but the very fact that the above comes to peoples' minds worries me. This is not typical by any stretch of the imagination. I do not know if I should be proud about it, but I am known for bouncing back fast and very much complete. 

So here I go throwing another loop.

and now

Keep quiet, brother. There is no reason or cause for distress. You've made this mess,
you'll live with it.
You'll miss her,
It will never rest.

Don't ruin a good thing, right? A good thing? A good thing that she has no clue what she's done to you, a good thing she has no clue

you don't know what to do.

Sit down, kid, keep still. Here's pills for the part in your heart and the pain in your brain. Hold up though, don't forget which is which! Be more fucking careful! You're going to end up fucking up again and again a agai ag ag again

Don't mix them up. Don't forget which is which. AMEND!!! Don't forget that kiss that you can never wish away

or back again.

AMEND!

Make due! Call the truce.

"But sir, I've already..."

Laid down long enough? Damn right you have. Get off your knees, go out and find your...

"Sir, please, I'm not well"

Get out! Make AMENDS! Find some Truth and Reconcilliation!

Or you will be destroyed.

thisisthewaytheworldendsthisisthewaytheworldends
notwithabang
notwithawhisper
withapill.

My Longest Fall From Grace

You won't remember me as your saving grace,

You never had to deal with such tears on your

But heaven won't have a clue as to how I'll remember you

my longest fall from grace

Quote

Love is a snowmobile racing across the tundra and then suddenly it flips over, pinning you underneath. At night, the ice weasels come.

North by north occupacia

The sunbeam, that wave of rightness, those nervous fireflies.

What was the best for me was a regret for you?

Where does that leave you? And me? I can't say us anymore. That is in the past, one saturated in radiance here, and tempered with
dark
there-

it leaves you with your friends. The ones that don't know. The ones with no clue as to what you said you'd do. What you said you wanted to do. What you about wanting me.

It leaves me with the same.

But you're the one who came out ahead.

Somehow. Hell if I understand it.

tSop

But please tell me, what am I supposed to do?

Oh yeah, forget that I'm "make a decision."Forget that I don't worry. Forget everything you've ever known or thought about me.

Why?

Because you've already forgotten what you felt for me, right?

A kiss has never meant that much before. 

I'm so fucking fed up with her shit

You're just a parasite
You've ran from every fight
Worming you way through a special heart
Tearing those that care apart.

Come out from the shadows you bitch.

broken hearts Tessellate tonight

Your friends don't understand because you don't yourself. Understand yourself. Understand it, and why you acted that way.

A shoulder can only function as a crutch for so long. Eventually, the boy wants his shoulder back.
Not only is it a struggle for her to acclimate to not having a crutch, but it's tough for the boy to realize that he can shape
things.
That it is all permeable, it is all moldable, and that he needs to exercise this capability.


Or just not live. Renounce life.

Is it easier? I swear, by everything I love, that I have never considered this.

A lot of people do this. Ask yourself what meaning your life has. Please?

The March, The Parade, The Problem of Pain

It is frustrating. You, good sir, you have tried. You have not always succeeded. But my, have you tried. You get the grades. You get the praise. You have not irrevocably failed anyone. You have always recovered, be it through hard-work, charm, or maybe just a lucky break.

It does not always work. I am sorry...and I do not say that lightly.

The first time you slip, sir, the tide that you have held back(sometimes with you back pressed against the wall) will break. It will fall forth, spilling over everything you have tried to create. But all of that is transcendent. It will not last.

And by God son, you do it again, and neither will you.

It just happens

It just so happens that things might move too quickly. It just so happens that it works out perfectly enough that you do not seem concerned. It just so happens that I had hope in this, hope in you, hope in us.

It just so happens that I myself am hopeless. Without it, can one really sober up, discard the inebriation, and claw through the cobwebs that my heart has spun?

You, spider. You took up residence in my heart. Quickly, too quickly. Too short. Too much. Too much of you, not enough of you, and not enough time for you.

It just so happens that I really fell for you.

Putting things in the past tense doesn't help enough.

EVER NOTICE

that the people who have screwed up the worst are the most apt to proclaim that "everything happens for a reason," as if their misfortune was preordained and executed by higher powers?

And send them back where they came from

Cliches are a pitiful lot. A lot to be pitied. They have a lot to be pitied over. Semantics semantics semantics.

I started a sentence proclaiming that cliches are worse than satan, but that downplays the issue.  See, satan made a choice. He thought the way that heaven was being run was pretty lame, so he went off to form a brand new empire. It worked.  Until it started getting a bad rep from the 'ole apostles.  Is it really his fault that the "bad"(up for debate) people go there? Did he really get to decide that? We never hear the full story. I bet god raped his girlfriend or something.  Past being a backstabber, god was not the most open minded deity either. Oh, wait, you questioned one of his flock? Too bad sir, your town is fucked. Meteors, fire, unicorns; god was a mean guy. Actually, he more closely resembles a girl in this capacity. So, god is likely a betrayer, definitely a murderer, and a fascist fuck intent on the full and complete domination of the heavens. 

What a bitch.

Cliches though. They are to be pitied because, like satan, they did not choose the bad rep that they have garnered. Striving for a display of emotion, true emotion, pathos to shake the resolve of a stricken lover - all for nought. Let us look at "it's not you it's me." Honest, poignant, concise. Fantastic attributes.  However, these first two traits are rendered nugatory from the first in that people do not feel the full effect of cliches anymore. If I'm here trying to really explain to a girl, that "Darling, really, it's not you--" 

-- = slappage.

I am disenchanted.

Less.Self.Bad. Selfless. Good?

I think that the primary idea behind journals and diaries was to keep a record. For your self, or, if you're an esteemed scientist of sorts, maybe for others. But, really, I don't think that the primary purpose was attention. I can not see Anne Frank doing her diary, hoping she could make millions of euros off of it. Well, she couldn't, because they didn't have euros then...how dumb of an idea.

Contrast:blogs are for attention. Or the idea that what you say is worth attention. Moral qualifier: no one will admit this. Or say this.

Conclusion: There is more value in what I say than in what many other people say. I did not say think. There are plenty of people that are smarter than me, wiser than me, better typists than me. But I have something they don't. I have an obscene amount of charisma. I can communicate my ideas. 

But this is a talent that I waste. I am lazy. No, I am not.

I am my harshest critic. Many people say this, but I am honest.

I lie all the time. Not because...well, because whatever reason many people lie. I lie for the fun of it. What's that mean? I live in a small town, and it is one way that I have fun. I enjoy it.

I think on my feet very well. Quickly too. I feel that the wrong decision is ALWAYS better than no decision at all. It gets me in a lot of trouble.

I am frank. Well, my name is not frank, thankfully, but I am usually blunt about things. This too gets me in trouble.

I am tired of waiting around for things to happen.