So quiet
Another wasted night
The television steals the conversation
Exhale
Another wasted breath,
Again it goes unnoticed
Please tell me your just feeling tired
Because if it's more then that i feel that i might break
Out of touch,
Out of time
Please send me anything but signals that are mixed
Cuz i can't read your rolling eyes
Out of touch,
Are we out of time?
Closed lipped
Another goodnight kiss
Is robbed of all it's passion
Your grip
Another time is slack
It leaves me feeling empty
Please tell me your just feeling tired
Cuz if it's more then that i feel that i might break
Out of touch,
Out of time
Please send me anything but signals that are mixed
Cuz i can't read your rolling eyes
Out of touch,
Are we out of time?
I'll wait until tomorrow
Maybe you'll feel better then
Maybe we'll be better then
So whats another day
When i can't bear these nights of thoughts of going on without you
This mood of yours is temporary
Its seems worth the wait to see your smile again
Out of the corner of my eye won't be the only way your looking at me then
So Quiet
Another wasted night
The television steals the conversation
Exhale
Another wasted breath,
Again it goes unnoticed...
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Early Morning
Deep within the constitution of the soul, there waits a very presense so profound
So dark and terrible, the instability of human nature to define the very purpose of existance
Existance is but yet the sad dream of the humanistic reality that has befell the world
Drowned in smog, death is only imminant to the sad, yet strange world that hosts humanity
While Man is arrogant within this sphere he only borrows, a proportion of that is feminine.
As man is only a mutation, an abomination to the world, of the original woman.
The opposite sex of the adopted rulers of the world did indeed birth them.
Existance as we know it would not have commenced without abominations.
Abominations must continue to surface from the depths of hell for the star society to continue.
While we fight everything that differes from ourselves, we must one day submit.
Do not postpone the inevitable that MUST become of us
Death is imminant, and we must not fight the gods of fate.
When fate is disrupted, reality is disrupted.
And as we all know,
Reality is just a nightmare
So dark and terrible, the instability of human nature to define the very purpose of existance
Existance is but yet the sad dream of the humanistic reality that has befell the world
Drowned in smog, death is only imminant to the sad, yet strange world that hosts humanity
While Man is arrogant within this sphere he only borrows, a proportion of that is feminine.
As man is only a mutation, an abomination to the world, of the original woman.
The opposite sex of the adopted rulers of the world did indeed birth them.
Existance as we know it would not have commenced without abominations.
Abominations must continue to surface from the depths of hell for the star society to continue.
While we fight everything that differes from ourselves, we must one day submit.
Do not postpone the inevitable that MUST become of us
Death is imminant, and we must not fight the gods of fate.
When fate is disrupted, reality is disrupted.
And as we all know,
Reality is just a nightmare
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Signs
Today a friend needed help.
Her friend was hurt and in trouble.
I just so happened to be hanging out with her when this trouble happened.
She didn't have a car.
She didn't have a ride.
I did.
I drove her and her boyfriend out to the park where this boy said he was.
But he didn't say where exactly IN the park he was.
We searched for about an hour.
Finally, me and her boyfriend found him laying in a bush.
He was in shock from loss of blood.
His left wrist was slashed all the way down to the tendons and bone.
We drove him to the hospital against his will.
He finally gave in and went inside.
They turned him away when he refused to give his personal information.
I drove them back home.
But by this time he had stopped bleeding and seemed to be ok.
I went home.
Now as fucked up as this all is.
It sparked my mind.
Some people believe in coincidence.
But some people belive in signs.
Now as far as i'm concerned, religion is fucked beyond belief.
But I was in the right spot, at the right time, with an exact purpose.
That boy could have been hurt so much worse, or done more harm to himself if i didn't get there when i did.
I'm not convinced in a higher being.
But for the record right now...
I thank god i was where i was, when i was, doing what i did.
Her friend was hurt and in trouble.
I just so happened to be hanging out with her when this trouble happened.
She didn't have a car.
She didn't have a ride.
I did.
I drove her and her boyfriend out to the park where this boy said he was.
But he didn't say where exactly IN the park he was.
We searched for about an hour.
Finally, me and her boyfriend found him laying in a bush.
He was in shock from loss of blood.
His left wrist was slashed all the way down to the tendons and bone.
We drove him to the hospital against his will.
He finally gave in and went inside.
They turned him away when he refused to give his personal information.
I drove them back home.
But by this time he had stopped bleeding and seemed to be ok.
I went home.
Now as fucked up as this all is.
It sparked my mind.
Some people believe in coincidence.
But some people belive in signs.
Now as far as i'm concerned, religion is fucked beyond belief.
But I was in the right spot, at the right time, with an exact purpose.
That boy could have been hurt so much worse, or done more harm to himself if i didn't get there when i did.
I'm not convinced in a higher being.
But for the record right now...
I thank god i was where i was, when i was, doing what i did.
Friday, August 20, 2010
Matthew Peterson "II"
Blind and shapeless,
to the world,
only a blur,
In reality, a cocktail of denial,
only to be corrected
by the mist
of unknown, glass-clarity
the starry array of uncertainty
and utter, dismal haze
The suits, tees, and shirtless,
amiable at best,
wandering inconclusively,
through all-bearing turnmoil, lust, and
almighty despair
to only yet,
be saved by the shady
hand of the haze as one,
and know truly nothing,
of the motives of past
~Written by Matthew Richard Peterson
to the world,
only a blur,
In reality, a cocktail of denial,
only to be corrected
by the mist
of unknown, glass-clarity
the starry array of uncertainty
and utter, dismal haze
The suits, tees, and shirtless,
amiable at best,
wandering inconclusively,
through all-bearing turnmoil, lust, and
almighty despair
to only yet,
be saved by the shady
hand of the haze as one,
and know truly nothing,
of the motives of past
~Written by Matthew Richard Peterson
Matthew Peterson
Within the confines of the depth
My mind, this beer, his soul
We bring along the pep
Dice, Roll
Togetther the laughing commences,
Drunk sex
Long nights
Lower your defences
Days spent dying
Nights spent the same
No more lying,
Cheating,
Stealing.
Tonight....
Depth? Soul? Pep?
No.... Tonight we roll
~Inspired by Matthew Peterson
~Written by Christian Nathanial
My mind, this beer, his soul
We bring along the pep
Dice, Roll
Togetther the laughing commences,
Drunk sex
Long nights
Lower your defences
Days spent dying
Nights spent the same
No more lying,
Cheating,
Stealing.
Tonight....
Depth? Soul? Pep?
No.... Tonight we roll
~Inspired by Matthew Peterson
~Written by Christian Nathanial
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
RocknRolla
"You see that pack of Virginia killing sticks on the end of the piano?
All you need to know about life is retained in those four walls.
You will notice that one of your personallities is seduced by the illusions of granduer.
A gold packet of king size with a regal insignia
An attractive implication toward glamour and wealth
And a subtle suggestion that cigarettes are your royal and loyal friends,
And that pete, is a lie
Your other personality is trying to draw your attention to the flip side of the discussion
Written in bold, boring, black and white is that statement that these neat little soldiers of death are in fact trying to kill you,
And that pete, is the truth
Oh, beauty is a beguiling call of death and i'm addicted to the sweet pitch of it's sorrow
That that starts sweet, ends bitter
and that that starts bitter, ends sweet.
That is why you and I love the drugs...
Now, please, pass me a light"
~Johnny Quid
All you need to know about life is retained in those four walls.
You will notice that one of your personallities is seduced by the illusions of granduer.
A gold packet of king size with a regal insignia
An attractive implication toward glamour and wealth
And a subtle suggestion that cigarettes are your royal and loyal friends,
And that pete, is a lie
Your other personality is trying to draw your attention to the flip side of the discussion
Written in bold, boring, black and white is that statement that these neat little soldiers of death are in fact trying to kill you,
And that pete, is the truth
Oh, beauty is a beguiling call of death and i'm addicted to the sweet pitch of it's sorrow
That that starts sweet, ends bitter
and that that starts bitter, ends sweet.
That is why you and I love the drugs...
Now, please, pass me a light"
~Johnny Quid
Saturday, August 7, 2010
Insomniatic Lunatics
Have you ever noticed that when the beauty of dusk disapears, and the calm of night sets in, life is no longer relevent. The minutes pass unencumbered and unnoticed. Love you feel during the day is amplified yet distant. Family no longer exists. The moment is all that matters.
The moment exists just for you.
And when sleep fails to come as it often does for me, your thoughts consume you. Your love is either much more valuable, or not as important as you thought. Friends can be amazing, or easily forgotten. Your self worth plummets, or sky rockets out of sight.
Dignity was never an option.
The moment exists just for you.
And when sleep fails to come as it often does for me, your thoughts consume you. Your love is either much more valuable, or not as important as you thought. Friends can be amazing, or easily forgotten. Your self worth plummets, or sky rockets out of sight.
Dignity was never an option.
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