... To all the lovely people that left me notes! Unfortunately i don't think i'll be writing here any longer!

Much Love,
Wes

just got back from the military life for the weekend... jesus christ.. its been the longest two weeks of my life. it feels like i've been in there for months... only 698 more days till its over.

for those of you sitting comfortably behind your monitor, in an air conditioned room... well rested, well fed and in clean clothes.. i give you my middle finger. and to those who are smoking and drinking while reading this.. i give you two middle fingers. i've learnt to appreciate simple things like... say.. the clouds covering up the sun... the right to sit down instead of squatting or standing.. warm clothes... showers without having to see 20 penises dangling all over the place... having no worries or stress when you bend down to reach for the bar of soap you dropped... and the right to have hair.. god damn it. haha.. i'm not bitching about the military life.. its alright. new friends and an M16 rifle you call your wife. so its all good.. having said that, my wife is a whore since she has been touched, handled and oiled by men uncountable with neither my fingers nor my toes...

lights off at 10:30... no movement beyond that time

i was caught changing my clothes at 10:40. a sergeant in black stood behind me and when i turned around... i got the following response: "fuck you... stand in the corridor". what was perhaps more disturbing was the fact that he was an indian in black.. thus all i saw were two eyeballs looking at me in the dark.. and the occasional flash of white from his teeth when the words "fuck" and "stand" shot out from his mouth. i also managed to attain my position as 'sergeant major' in the matter of 4 days.. and 'lieutenant' in 6 even though i'am acknowledged only as a recruit in the republic.

long story.. maybe i will find time to explain in the future. i love you all so take care. enjoy freedom screenagers!

dadada...

-Wes (Falcon Company 4th Platoon) [always wanted to say that]

(spade):
"All this has… I love you since when?
I tell you why I'm addicted to classes, all the time I always try to come back.
I have a feeling that I just can not love you.
I don't know what has happened to you."

There is no importance there is neither transparence nor appearance

MUSICIANS SMASH YOUR BLIND INSTRUMENTS on the stage
The BAZOOKA is only for my understanding.
I write because it's natural like I piss
like I'm ill...

Art needs an operation

(good things said must be heard)

she knows she's beautiful
as does the world too
obliged to angst ideals
fakes a different hue

"make me pretty"
she cries
"my insides are so bruised"
make them believe her
she tries
fabricated images fused

why do you cry?
when your ego squeals with ecstatic delight
why do you try?
when you most believe your pretty sight

blind, they are
as so i seem to them
to not see her bitter beauty
on which she dwells her fame

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Screenagers!

self-pity and attention seeking shall hide behind the bars of 'art' no more.
IT is time we open our pretty little chinese eyes.

tatatata
-wes & lil

deviantARTEES!!! It is good to be back after almost a month of absence and a longer time of abstinence. And what was supposed to be a time for work and exhaustion turned out pleasureful and painful at the same time.

so gather around and i shall sing you a story.

... and under the glaring sun, there i was sitting awkwardly behind the drum set...playing our songs... as i witnessed the crowd gathering around us like ants around a dead bug. The first song went by, and i felt my rage swelling up like a pregnant whore since the fucking amp was so shitty and i couldn't hear any guitar, or bass or singing at all. FICK MICH, ARSHLOCH!! it seemed appropriate for me to stand up and destroy my equipment to save us all from the pain the amps were bringing to our ears (at that time), but we ended up playing all of our songs... which turned out decent after all... though i would still argue against that.

Prior to our disastrous performance art, i had the devious pleasure of sitting on the same table with a dame whom i perceive as the epitome of beauty. Her name shall not be mentioned, for fear that she would someday find her way to this journal like a tick under an elephant's toe. Those who know me would know who i'm talking about... (and don't say her name cuz that would defeat the whole purpose of hiding her name). SHe is a garden of brightly colored flowers, and take note that i 'm not just saying that as a form of romanticism or sentimentalism.. it has to do with her name... which is highly appropriate. What you must come to understand is that, when faced with beauty as pure as this... SILENCE MUST BE PRESENT when she approaches.. to smell her warmth, and hear her steps and the blinking of her eyes... EIther way.. i went to town sqaure with her and a couple of friends and we converse for an hour or so... which was enough to make me walk around like chesire cat later on.. It is almost fatally painful when you set your eyes on her since she carries an aura of grace and perfection even when she walks... and i'm getting to the ending of my little story... so bear with me screenagers..!! this morning, while sitting on a table, she approached, said hi... and i shamelessly grabbed her hand, but shamefully refused to let go of it... which caused a shot of embarrassment, enough to make me want to dig a hole and hide in it. To add the icing on the cake, i was drunk on saturday, and upon laying my eyes on her.. i went up and kissed her... with no recollection whatsoever of what i did..

Embarrassing.. yes. but i share with you my flaws and disgust. (I) know where God is.

"LOVE the exaggerated. LOVE what we are knot, until we are so tangled we cannot escape."

and with lots of LOVE
-wes

dadadadadada.....