christopherXrobin109's Xanga

Monday, October 02, 2006

Mon, 02 Oct 2006 19:58:14 GMT

WHO WANTS TO BE IN CONTROL OF TEH STAUNTON GANG?

I'm done with xanga so... yeah. you take it.

Tuesday, May 30, 2006

Tue, 30 May 2006 16:23:44 GMT

I now own a baby racoon.

Named Baby.

Wednesday, May 03, 2006

Wed, 03 May 2006 16:30:57 GMT

Hostel is not what it appeared to be, but it was better than Saw II.

Thursday, April 27, 2006

Thu, 27 Apr 2006 16:36:21 GMT

I work at Shanti again.

Sunday, April 09, 2006

Sun, 09 Apr 2006 20:32:31 GMT

MACRoCk was great, for those that didn't go, please try next year, and for those that read this that were there, why did I see you.at the spaz showcase?

Bring on the mean comments.

Rachel, you're cool though.

Monday, April 03, 2006

Mon, 03 Apr 2006 05:35:56 GMT

I'll fight 'til I die.

I hope the climb to the top of the mountain is worth all that trouble.

A worthy adversary?

She cried for pity. She deserved to fucking die.

Goodeye Sniper.

I'll never hurt you, but we all do dirty things behind our backs.

GIMME DA TREASURE BITCH!

Let me ask you this. Are you feeling lucky, duck?

That's why I wake up everyday.

Friday, March 31, 2006

Fri, 31 Mar 2006 04:54:44 GMT

12:54am
I'm going insane..
I keep hearing this weird wooing vibrato in my ear.
It's not telling me to do things, It's just there.
Kind of like a schizo's best friends. not real. just there.
It sounds sad, like it want's to get out of my head, but I want him to stay, so that I won't be afraid, of the dark, anymore.
I always have at least one light plus my monitor on. If it's quiet, dark, and cold, I won't even enter my own room. Much less yours. No matter how many clothes you take off.

1:13am
I want to hold this sound's hand, and bury my face in it's chest and tell it how frustrated it makes me.

1:27am
I'm naming the sound Noland.

1:29am
I would say that this is the crescendo of Noland, since now he's loud and sounds angry, like he is going to attack.
He is hurting my frontal lobes, and he is dripping down my chin, along my jaw that is, into my collarbones.

1:35am
He is making me talk, nonsense mostly, jibber jabber, tongues, whatever you will.
heisinmyarmsandhewillnotletmepuncuateordotmyi

1:38am
We stand up, our first physical co-operation.

1:39am
He unlocks my bedroom door.
He has my fingers grasped to my keys, and he's walking me out the back way.
He makes sure I have 20 dollars in my pocket to make him stronger.
He is fueled by an evil kind of Ramen.

1:47am
I'm not driving... I want to leave, but I'm stuck. Did I OD on anesthesia? No, fuck that shit.

1:48am
Hey, that street light's out.

1:54am
Noland stops the car. Noland and I walk together to the front steps of this brick building I have never seen. But, Noland won't let me look at the sign at the entrance to recognize it either.
He's not telling me his plan as we enter the door, (1:56am)and I meet 4 people that are all strangers to me. Turns out I or Noland are popular with these cats. Wait, Noland, you aren't real.

2:01am
I get the shit, and like a zombie trek out the door. With stash in hand, I put on my seatbelt.

2:02am
Why didn't that dog move when he saw the reverse lights? Oh well, It's that kid's problem now.

2:47am
"Noland, where the fuck am I going!" I need to know this. Like crystal glasses being played he screams at me and I go blind with the sound. Amplifier feedback. It's bright white like High beams and sounds like an Air horn.
"NOLAND YOU AREN'T REAL"
"I know, but that Peterbuilt is."

Friday, March 31, 2006

Fri, 31 Mar 2006 04:08:25 GMT

I suck at music...

Discuss.

Yeah, I can play... but I've lost everything else. I can't write lyrics, I can't write a hook, and I can't even form have of the shit that I want to play. I have no sense of mode, or alternate timings anymore.

All I keep playing are the same old songs from like last year that I wrote, and they aren't even finished songs.

I can't finish songs.

I suck at music...

Thursday, March 30, 2006

Thu, 30 Mar 2006 03:21:03 GMT

Waffle House Love

http://www.collegehumor.com/movies/1676624/

Confessions of a Criminal

Mon, 20 Mar 2006 02:30:32 GMT

This was written by me the first night out back from jail. These were my thoughts exactly and sums up how I still feel about this incident.

why did i take that first hit?
why did i make that first dub sale?
why did i ever do that line...
why did i ever hit that rose...
why did i ever dump all my funds into a plant...
why is reality bluring with make believe and anxiousness...
why can't i eat or cry or talk or think otherwise...

what would happen if they locked me away and had me deal with all that and not allow me to talk to you, to be treated like a dog, and referred to as 'the hippy kid'.

Jail cell floors are dirty and cold, they remind me of the SPCA facilities. The only light is from 2 florecent fixutures that flicker, and are covered in wads of toilet paper. How did I end up in a place where the bunk beds are a sign of dominance?

Why did I ever let you fall in love with me and get caught up in all of this. Why does my life crumble and rebuild over and over? I'm never the exact same for more than a year at a time. I have whole new things that affect my everyday.

I am what I once thought was the scum of the planet. I need to be punished, but I don't believe I was evil.

I have a whole new kind of butterflies in my stomach. They are more like moths and my stomach is made of a flannel sweatshirt, laced with bright lights that attract the fiends. My being, my fabric, will be tatterd and holey in a different asspect.

The only thing I want to be the same, is my life with you.

I'm probably going to seem really mopey and distant from everything, but trust that you are doing just fine darling.

Am I selfish for thinking that I deserve special treatment, but have nothing to back up that cause? I'm such a fucking hypocrite.

Please, think hard about loving me...

I don't know if I'm just scared and thinking too much, or idk.

I am ashamed of myself, and don't think I'm worthy of you. I want to give you so much more than a ride home in a police car, images of me behind blue lights, and worrying about me. I just want to give up on everything, sleep through life. But I want all the good without the work. I want to be truely free. I want to feel needed and loved everywhere and not intimidated by anything.

You give me everything that I need. I want to experience the fulfillments of our dreams together, and to look into the sky and say that we understand. I want to hold your hand until the skin is turned to bone and ash. I want to give you the world, but I don't even have a snow globe to offer you. I'm the worst mistake of your life. I am the new cancer. I'm so fucking dumb in reality. I want to create a new world where you are everything, in the air, the earth, and the light that beams down on everyone's faces. I want the world to know of the joy and lift you bring me, but to keep it all for myself. I want you to feel like everything is perfect, and to know that it's the truth. I want your life to be easier. I want to kiss you like a bird until those creatures evolve and invent a new adorable way of kissing. I want to be your love, and your world, but please keep all hands and feet inside the vehicle, and remember, it's your life at stake.

You need to consider what I am.

Please repsond to as much as you can. I love you. Every last one of you.