:: A Vagrant's Story ::

:: Friday, July 30, 2004 ::

Since I AM Ireland and all,
I decided to steal this off of Lynette. =p

"An Irish Curse: May the enemies of Ireland never meet a friend."

Wahahahaha! Ph33r m3. xD

Other than that, not much lately.
Tried to pick up my schedule for my upcoming
semester from school.
Database error, basically.
I'm going to head back on Monday.

Kodoku dake ga ore wo tsutsumu yoru ni wa.
Yoake made hoshi wo kazoete sugosou.

:: Kevin 8:16 PM [+] ::
...

[Music: My Own Heart Beating]

I want to join the army.

:: Kevin 11:39 AM [+] ::
...

You're Ireland!

Mystical and rain-soaked, you remain mysterious to many people, and this
makes you intriguing.  You also like a good night at the pub, though many are just as
worried that you will blow up the pub as you drink your beverage of choice.  You're good
with words, remarkably lucky, and know and enjoy at least fifteen ways of eating a potato.
 You really don't like snakes.
Roman" size=2>Take the Country Quiz at
the Blue Pyramid

Heh, I dunno about luck, but this calls for a drink
and a song! xD

:: Kevin 8:20 AM [+] ::
...

Poetry Time!
----------------------------
"Remember kids, nice guys ALWAYS lose no matter HOW hard they try. Or even WHO tells them otherwise."

Hatchet

You lead me on to break--
more branches.
Blood stained jeans.
Warm sweat--
         Lets the blood flow freely.

You lead me on,
to another branch.
Snapping them--
          with bare hands.
The flesh breaks.
The blood flows.
The tears mix.
There is no difference,
anymore.

 
The white shirt,
         black it turns.
Soiled once more,
         tears can't wash it anymore.

I cannot help
         but wonder why,
you led me into,
         this fucked up ride.

Blood-sweat-tears for love;
These branches threaten to break me,
but I cannot care.

A few more lay,
that you force me to break--
those last few.
Driven by pain,
I shattered their pieces,
I shatter I lay--instead.

As I cried out,
As I fall apart,
You fade away;
It seems you forgot,
When I saved you those days.
When you saw those trees
of your own.
And promised me that I'd
never have to break branches of my own.
 
SNAP.

Blood sweat, tears all for love.
You leave me here drowning in a pool of blood.

Branches that feed off our ichor.

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"This has been brought to you by Kevin's WHY THE FUCK DO NICE GUYS ALWAYS LOSE?!?! Foundation.  Any contributions would gladly be appreciated.  Thank you, and have a nice day."


Hahaha, just some humor for ya.
--------------------------------------------------------
That has GOT to be the worst poem I've EVER thought of.
But this is where it came from.

I spent the morning yesterday dismembering a small tree with my bare hands.
No tools.
All I used was a hatchet
and only to split the trunk twice.
All hands after that.
All while singing my lungs out.
Ah, it would be great to live the life of a lumberjack
in the days of old.
The tree has been there for over 25 years.
My hands/arms are shreded.
I have blood stains on my jeans and my shirt.
But I didn't care.
Because blood sweat, tears are nothing to anyone anymore.
I was trembling at the end.

I still somehow managed to drive that day without crashing
and killing myself. Heh. I r0x.

:: Kevin 4:49 AM [+] ::
...