Journal GoodJobJournal

[GoodJobDino]

Hey everyone,


So this will just be a spot where I can post writings and thoughts of mine. Feel free to follow the thread to get updates, but please only reply in a pm if you want to discuss anything. Thank you very much in advance.


I'll share my first bit in this opening of the thread. I am currently abroad, which has helped to ease my stress in many ways, and allowed me some freedom of thought as far as writing and really getting some angst and pressure out. So here we go:


This page I rip out for you


All you get is the words, the paper


Not around for the gore


The open chest anti-surgery


Ripping at the heart like I'm hoping to find another one underneath


The one that works right


Like it's supposed to


The way I dreamed it would


You stay in the clean


Away from the tubes and spurting


Muscle and bones I question


"Are these mine?"


What did they do before I saw them


Made them real


I do not recognize them because they are never in the mirror


Neither are you


Please,


Burn those pages


Because its all in my head.

 

[GoodJobDino]

So for this one, I am still releasing a lot of stress. Was written abroad as well. Back home I became very stagnant and pressured. Creating my own stress. So there is a lot of angst, combined with my interest in true crime and reading about rapists. It is also a work in progress.


I am not motivated by lust


Not driven by fear, or hate


There is simply no one at the wheel


I am machine. This is how I run


And you are where the signs direct me tonight


You will think and over think me and I will forget you


A skid mark


Fading from my tires over a stretch of dark road


Washed away in the rain

 

[GoodJobDino]

I sit at my computer, playing some game or writing some thing. I look around occasionally, as though there will be something new to see in this messy little room. My arms and legs feel like rocket ships waiting to take off. Just waiting for the words "lift off!" But the bastard in the control room keeps forgetting his lines and repeats, "3... 2... 1...! 3... 2... 1...!" There is another me. Right there on the bed behind me. Scratching and beating at the wall. He is tireless, unthinking, and invincible. Savage and beastly in every sense of the word. I know he will make it through that wall. I wonder if he sees me, if I'm just "There is another me. He sits quietly in that busted old chair. Patient, methodical, unmovable. A monster watching his prey in every sense of the word. He is the wall I must get through to escape this room."

 

[GoodJobDino]

It's much more than likely you won't die that way


Won't be the one


But still you lock your door


Don't cross that street


Avert your gaze


You are afraid, hidden


And that's how you live


The guns have won