ive hada tumlblr for over two years„„ win

a small feather, floats through the air with everlasting precision. it lands in a town, making a small incision and gathering enough emotion to bear. my life is a series of letdowns, one after another drops add to pounds. kings and queens, they’re all the same. city folk and farmer kind, all play the same game. they call it life, i call it shame. they catch the criminal, while really its a frame. simply put, we’re all underground sometime. as the secondhand strikes, we have to talk in mime, at the next we’re covered in grime. i hate the feeling of falling, cityscapes rush below, but I’m still moving nowhere. an emotion we share.

I’m registering for the SAT’s today… I don’t like the idea of a standard test to create your entire future (I know this is no new concept)… Although, I do believe I will score well on these.

I plan to go to college for film, I’m looking at Emerson, Full Sail, and maybe some others, not really sure yet.

oh well

hi

I know this is completely old news, but the documentary, The American Drug War: The Last White hope is an amazing documentary.  It is eye opening and gives a reason to your beliefs……………………… Yeah.

me (kyletuchayfilms.tumblr.com) and b-hall(wilesfilms.tk), are planning a hugee production for march/april/may shooting/editing.. Out sometime in early june or before then, should be sick. We’re writing it now.

going to borders AND barnes and noble today… gona see what i can pick up there…. pretty fucking PSYCHEEEEEEEEEED

i

can

punctuate

poems

like

bukowski.

isn’t this

the biggest cliche of

our generation?

useless spacing

and improper punctuation.

woe is us.

woe is us.

have a good day today, tumblr.

i’ll be posting a new poem or story today.

all of the sounds in the universe,
compiled together,
and making one dissonant groan.

as a silent man passes,
he falls into it.
creating noise.

and
the
cat
sleeps
on the doorstep
of that home.
weeping fervently
for what’s coming next.

the universe lets go of the noise
an endless quiet.

no one can hear the face
of the little boy
who can’t see.
and the precipice
of life,
it isn’t you
it isn’t me.

chased by the thoughts of redemption
my heart waits by
ask him
ask him why.

hunger strikes without warning
and you’ve got caution tape all over you.
principles of life and death
stick within our veins
pumping through and through.

no one can hear the face of that little boy.
who’s heart dropped
like that.

Nothing new today, filming shit tomorrow. Word.