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The Noise Of Trouble
"In the present we are always in memory." - Trish Keenan
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Every Evening Turns To Mourn
Late Night Mid Morning Aftermath
These dreams
leave me
so tired,
might as well
go back
to sleep.
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It's always getting late.
Introduction
This blog is a virtual notebook of writing that I maintain as often as I can. Poems, stray lines, random observations, all co-exist here. Revisions occur as needed/deemed fit.
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Ambivalence Strikes Ambition
When The Escape Becomes The Prison
Every Evening Turns To Mourn
Motion
This Is Why I Don't Like To Remember My Dreams
Trash Bin
Lay, Zee, Sun, Day.
Mental/Physical
Inevitable?
Painful Flesh and Needed Money
After this moment, EVERYTHING
Trying To Reconnect
Fill In The Blanks
Asshole
For my beloved family in Mexico, I miss you.
A Constant Quest
Early Morning from a Late Night
In A Place Whores Did Business
Why I Am Going To Be Late To Work Today
Morning
Mining The Light & Darkness
Shards from the end.
Killing Fields
The Warmth Of The Morning
We Are Undone, We Are Ending
Before The Memory Is Lost
Primal Primacy
Dedicated To Innocence
Sharing The Great & Small
Frustrated Bastard
La Ciudad De Los Angeles
Dealing
If my heart stops beating...
The Width Of A Circle
A City Stained With The Memory Of Years
'Merican
How Dark Is Your Dark Side?
As You Burn Out
The Vain and Vapid
Strange Light and Darkest Night.
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About Me
R
I'm an outgoing introvert, maybe you're one too.
View my complete profile
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