Late Breaking News In Nowheresville

danialmills @ 2009-07-06T02:31:00

2009-07-07T06:32:26Z

I really just don't know what happened to my friends? It's like they've all been swooped up by the same craze, this endless cycle. They all pretend to like each other, but they're just trying to best each other silently. Collectively climbing over each other to stand at the top of the mountain screaming. "God damn it! I'm fashionable! Look at me!"

And you say, "I really only have to care for myself because at the end of the night that's who I have to sleep with."
I just feel so bad, such a sad selfish way to live your life.

danialmills @ 2009-07-01T21:20:00

2009-07-02T01:21:11Z

Hey Ya'll! Tonz of radical short stories and novella's inside! Just add meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee (then tell me ya did!)

danialmills @ 2009-06-26T13:31:00

2009-06-26T17:32:34Z

                Somewhere in the forest a little frog and a big frog sat in the middle of the muddy path. Little frog stared off into the side of the path, at what he thought was another little frog, just like him. He looked at the Big Frog and said “Hey Mister, why’s that guy sitting over there?” The Big frog chuckled to himself.
                “That ain’t no frog my friend.”
                “It ain’t?” They started to hop over to it.
                “Nope, it’s a stick.” They reached it, to discover it was true.
                “That’s funny. It looks just like us.”
                “Well that’s because we’re supposed to look like it.”
                “Really?”
                “Yes silly, its camoflauge! Like watch this.” The Big Frog dragged the stick out into the mud where they were standing before. Then he walked back over to the Little Frog. “Now stand back, and wait.”
                Sure enough, eventually a Bird swooped in towards the stick. “Hey Little Frog!” He said in a deep chirping voice. “I’m going to gobble you up!” The two frogs watched from the sidelines, holding in a booming hysteric laugh, as the Bird dove in at the stick, which caused a sharp pain in his beak, the Bird squawked, and the Frogs burst into laughter, they couldn’t hold it in anymore. The Bird looked over at them, putting it together in his head. “You!” And just like that he hopped over to the two frogs and gobbled them up, without question.

The moral of the story is, if you're going to fuck with someone, be quiet about it.

danialmills @ 2009-01-07T01:54:00

2009-01-07T08:02:31Z

dimly light richmond street on a tuesday snowstorm, i wait for you, i sit in the cold, warm, waiting for you. the bar crawl slowly crawls home, men aiding their stumbling trophys into cabs. silly silly girls, can't imagine how you thought flats were appropriate. i giggle, i pull out a joint, put my headphones on. two baboons in jackets push each other around, i think well whats the god damn point of flexing your muscles like that if your gonna be wearin' sweaters and jackets. i can't see any toughness in that. a girl walks by with a falafel, i think about that strange purple falafel condiment, then you for a bit, then i wonder about your first day of school, then the music takes me along takes me along till you come right up to me, sayin' "I bet it's easy for girls to fall in love with you." I think, i don't really give a fuck cause i care about is you.
your funny little bobbing walk treading through the snow.

danialmills @ 2007-11-22T23:37:00

2007-11-23T04:51:20Z

I got a message on myspace today, informing me about some girl from america stealing my livejournal posts & putting them on her facebook.

http://tinypic.com/view.php?pic=8fze2xi&s=1
http://tinypic.com/view.php?pic=85a4eis&s=1
http://tinypic.com/view.php?pic=6p4dlzs&s=1

nothin' but savages in this world.

I've been working on a couple of short stories while I spend time in limbo, they are:
'Lonesome No More' 'Queer Happenings in Secret, Secret Places' 'Forget you we shall not, Elliot Reed!' 'a bit of precaution for those who deem it necessary'

danialmills @ 2007-11-09T17:19:00

2007-11-09T22:20:41Z

life sucks, then your a ghost.

danialmills @ 2007-11-06T15:06:00

2007-11-06T20:08:21Z

we extend our limbs if only to show how far we can reach

danialmills @ 2007-10-26T13:41:00

2007-10-26T17:41:30Z

i am sad

in memory of bobby drake

2007-10-10T19:12:27Z

the gentle sway of the mind as it floats back into the body, like resonant ripples of a splash into water it shakes his head & raises his eyelids. the end to another nap in the park.

his eyes glared at infinity, the sky that never seemed to end. this bothered bobby somewhat, made him slightly uncomfortable. so he quickly lifted his chest & stared down at his long legs, crossed at the ankles. shoes half on his feet, socks unsimilar colors. a miniature mountain of sticks & leaves just beyond that.

he stood up. as lanky as half the trees in the park, a slightly crooked back casted a small shadow in front of himself everywhere he went.

it began to drizzle slightly as he began to walk, which when combined with the sound of crunching leaves under his feet created somewhat of a depressing walking tune, which followed him behind every pace.

it was there when he passed an elderly man pulling his entire existence behind him on a cart. several suitcases & bags stacked atop of each other from biggest to smallest. all held together with a bungee cord. he had a grin on his face that look like it could outlast coal turning to diamond. it was so powerful it changed the stoplights in front of him to green & as bobby followed him under the bridge & out the other side it had even put a stop to the rain.

the short rainfall had a wondrous effect on the city which seemed to let out a refreshing exhale, quite similar to a dog shaking off the instant it gets out of the water.

which reminded him of his old dog Elliott, who was a runt of a German Shepard if you're ever met one. The peculiar thing about Elliott was that he never would shake himself off. The instant he came out of the water he'd come looking for bobby. so that he could beg you to with his two different colored eyes to dry him off. Which bobby would, with a towel dubbed 'Elliott's Towel.'

after you finished drying his frizzy black coat he'd snag the towel from your hands. then carry it over to what in Elliott's opinion was a premium location, lay it down on the ground & ruffle it up instinctively like a pile of leaves before plopping down onto it. letting the sun get all the spots you missed.

but that dog like all dogs eventually died. if only to be replaced by another canine with a different selection of memorable peculiarities to reminisce on.

under the other side of a bridge was bobby's favorite convience store. it gained this title by being the only store in a millions stones throws reach that would sell him cigarettes. it was the most broken down store you'd ever seen. full of unplugged fridges holding warm drinks of small & miscellaneous stock. the only thing the store ever sold was cigarettes, lighters, & zig-zags. which they would sell probably to anybody, one day bobby even witnessed a seven year old boy walked out clutching in his hand a rainbow bong twisting & turning in a million , that only really appealed to the boy due to his fascination with the color spectrum in all it's glory.

bobby, out of smokes & fiending as smokers do went inside in search of salvation. behind the counter was a balding & bulging man, face stuck right in front of a man that did not oscillate, it just blew the cool breeze directly into the cashiers face, leaving the few hairs he had left to drift through. 'howdy.' bobby said to him, which resulted in nothing more than a slight nod of the head from the overheated fat man. 'pack o' belmonts please my man?' he asked, reaching the counter & leaning in close enough that he too caught a bit of the fan's work. 'can i see your id please?' the cashier asked, leaning back & pulling the smokes off the wall behind him. 'I sure do, right next to your cleaning products.' the cashier shed a small smiled and slightly slammed the smokes on the counter 'nine-fifty please.' bobby reached into his pocket and took a ridiculously crumbled ten dollar bill, he flattened it out slightly before handing it over. instead of waiting for his change he instead snagged a few books of matches that were off to the side before thanking the cashier & heading out, reading off the matches the directions to the 'Brass Rail' strip club that they advertised. outside the store he turned to the left & kept of keeping on.

about four blocks up the street bobby saw up in the distance a familiar face, taking strides right towards him. it wasn't a face familiar enough to be put to a name at the distance they were at just yet, but in a few seconds they came into focus & bobby realized it was peter braymen. who for the past few months had sit beside bobby in math class. as peter approached bobby nodded his head, causing peter to remove his headphones & come to a halting stop. 'hey mate, what's up?' bobby asked immediately, extending his hand for a shake. peter was a systematic smoker, he had this entire smoking schedule & system that he had explained to bobby in during class. peter would have smokes at two different types of intervals, one was a preplanned smoke break, this would consist in the morning to partner with his coffee, after his lunch just before class, & one right after CSI every night. bobby asked him why after CSI to which he replied 'I get so tense & nervous from the intensity of that show, cure for it after is a smoke.' The other type of smoke break was what he called accomplishment smokes. This were victory cigarettes that he would have after anything he could consider to be an accomplishment. Such as, after sex, finishing a book, writing a test, completing a walk, buying something new, landing a new skateboard trick. When bobby pictured peter, he often depicted him standing over a pile of defeated enemies, all slain at the mercy of peters bare hands which currently lodged in between his accomplished fingers was a half-finished belmont.

'want a smoke mate?' bobby asked pulling out his freshly purchased pack. peter grabbed it 'thanks' peter said to the tone of a thankful head nod. 'know what the occassion is petey?' 'nope.' 'your luck of runnin' into me.' bobby said with the sparking of a match, pushed foreward to the end of the smoke hanging from peters lips. 'what are you doing down here?' peter asked taking a long drag during bobby's response. 'i think i'm gonna go down to 5th to try & find that fake id shop jessie was talking about.' bobby told him. jessie sat a fair distance from the two of them in class, but in the occasion of a substitute teacher he would put on these ridicliously thick black rimmed glasses & plead that he needed to sit close so he could see the occasion. he didn't want to look like a dummy mistaking pi for equal sign for god sakes! when the sub finally caved he told them about the store he bought those glasses at down on fifth, but that wasn't even the tip of the iceburg. jessie reached into his wallet & withdrew a pristine damn near authentic looking manitoba drivers license. it was jessie's picture & everything, the information gave his name as Chip Weinstein the date of birth read as the same month & day as his, but the year was pushed back just enough to think that he had just turned nineteen.

'i was at a party last night with jessie.' peter said, flicking dead cigerette off the end. 'he was telling me how it worked like a charm. he must have showed up with a hundred dollars worth a liquer, he made a million promises to buy peoples alchohol for him. he was the life of the party i tell you, everyone kept doing toasts to chip weinstein all night.' peter shook his head in reminiscence, 'he had those glasses on & this total blonde jew fro, it was hilarious.' bobby scratched at his amatuer mustache. 'i've been growing this out for about three weeks, i think it'll help me cause for the photo.' he told peter.
(INCOMPLETE I'M REALLY TIRED RIGHT NOW)

once bobby had reached a certain depth into the downtown finical distract the blue of the sky was no longer visible. instead it had been replaced by skyscrapers. who seemed to lean over & cast a vicious shadow not much unlike bobby's. it's funny how there can be so much darkness in midday.

& with that he had a sudden desire to sneak a peek at that sky again. so he went inside the first building he could & headed straight for it's elevator.

which as probably every elevator on the block had a large crowd standing in front of it. all eyes direction towards the glowing numbers counting up & down. bobby slipped himself into this crowd happily.

when the elevator finally showed up, the whole gang shuffled into it. like cattle into a pen. the door shut & people began to shout numbers towards the man closest to the door. some said please, but bobby noted there were definitely more numbers than thanks.

stuffed shoulder to shoulder with suits, ties, & bobby's untied shoes. he was the only one to ride the elevator to the top floor. if you always aim low, you'll get there faster.

the top floor was a servery for all the buildings employees. but since it was well past lunch the place was scarcely occupied. there was a few people lugging around dirty dishes & a bunch of crumbs laying around on tabletops feeling unworthy.

bobby made his was towards the outside seating, touching everything he could on the way. to accumulate some sort of makeshift feeling. his fingers running across the chairs & tables.

outside right at the edge of the roof he saw an ant-like civilization, walking in lines, some even walking the same spots he was not to long ago.

his fingers held over the side as he lit himself a cigarette. exhales rising higher than any skyscraper the horizon had to offer.

but it was his fingers that got the most attention, they were a big fucking tease, floating like that. they were leaders that turned bobby's legs into followers as they chased after them as he fell to the ground as he thought 'life sucks, then your a ghost.'

danialmills @ 2007-10-09T23:22:00

2007-10-10T03:30:54Z

The exact same steps. Every single day it’s these exact same steps. Littered with clothing & other garbage that I’d put there days before. Sometimes I think the creak on the fourth & six step is now only an echo in my head from the thousands of other times I’ve climbed them.

Every step was like a punch in the face & the only reason I continue to climb them is that they are the stairs that bring me to the door that brings me to the world. Well, brought me to the cars & the concrete at least. Lights that’ll illuminate the street when the sun gets lazy. Indolence is sweet, & it’s consequences bitter (for us at least). This is living, stepping obliviously on leaves that fall from the trees. Sometimes we make it seem like it’s the exact same as walking all over those guys that’ll ask you for your spare change. Spare, extra change, you’re hardly a citizen if you don’t have spare items. Spare tire, spare socks, spare cigarettes, spare time, & spare coins clinking around in your pocket reminding you that you’re a step above leaves on the ground.

Today as I walk over the leaves & lesser folk I see funny things: A bicycle built for two, being ridden by one glum looking guy. A kid hoping over the cracks on the sidewalk in concern for the well-being of his mothers back. A jogger dressed in sweatbands & reflective colors, with headphones on her head leading her out of tune voice as she shares the chorus of the song with the whole block ‘Whaaaaaat’s luv, got to do, got to do with it!’ That really annoyed me, I can’t stand Tina Turner. She makes me believe that anything to stupid to be said, is sung. The off-key jogger mumbles along to the verse she can’t remember the words to as she turns the block. I turn the opposite direction & in a short while I find myself in front of the school.

At this time of day it’s a constant stream of kids flooding in & out of the doors. They look like salmon swimming to and from where ever it is salmon swim to and from. All kinds of kids of all kinds of different styles, ideas, & ideology. Each one of them with a look in there eye like they’re doing it the ‘right way’ & subconsciously thinking the stream of youth behind them is following them. Kids with metal hanging from a plethora of different places on their faces. Belts studded & unstudded. Baseball caps brim’s curved & uncurved. A mix of a million different musical genres blending together overwhelms the normal white noise of life. High school is just too many characters & not enough plot. I am almost laughing as I work my way through the front door. God is a comedian playing to an audience that is too afraid to laugh. We look so silly, walking up & down the stairs with books & backpacks & pencils & calculators & rulers & gosh, doesn’t this just rule.

In my first period class I take my seat because that’s how I was taught to do. When the National Anthem begins I stand & do my best to enjoy the words. When the teacher calls my name I inform him that I’m here, just like I was yesterday & just like I will be for the next four months or so. This class is an irritant for about five hundred & twenty seven reasons. One of them being that it takes place at eight thirty in the morning, another being the kid that I have to sit beside, Doug. You can’t talk to him but he can’t stop talking to you. You can’t seem to keep one topic in his conversations. I swear his mind works in a beeline, buzzing around from one topic to another & if he finds something you’re saying slightly offensive he’ll sting you almost instinctively.

Some days with in a matter of ten minutes we’ll have talked about Voltaire to Voltron to Volans. Other days it’d be Astronauts to Autobots to Autoerotic Asphyxia. It was kind of funny, sometimes. But he never believed what people would tell him. If you mentioned something he knew about he would tell you everything he knew about it & then everything he knew like it. But if you told him something he knew nothing about he would deny it until he researched it himself. Seriously, he had a notebook he kept in his backpack that he would scribble things in to google for himself after he got home for school. I sometimes picture him pouring off pages of pages of information only so he could regurgitate it on a later day.

He started off today by telling me ‘Hey dude, didja know that when a hummingbird goes to sleep it’s heartbeat drops from five hundred beats per minute to ten!’ Which I didn’t know, but I didn’t really need to.

‘No Dougie boy, I didn’t know that.’

‘Well know ya know, & knowing is half the battle!’ He paused for a minute ‘That’s from G.I. Joe, didja know that?’ Which I did know, but I didn’t really need to.

‘No sir, you got me again.’ I said, turning my face away from him to roll my eyes.

‘Pffft! You don’t know anything.’

‘I know that.’

‘You know what?’

‘That I don’t know anything.’ I think I just threw a wrench in his works.

‘That’s not something you can know, you know.’

‘How do you figure?’ If I could get Doug riled up before nine am, I was going to do it.

‘You just can’t know how much you know.’

‘How do you know?’

‘I just know.’ His face was as red of a beet, which if you asked him about he’d probably tell you he had an inactive enzyme that caused it. Or maybe he’d just skip right to the good stuff & talk about how the Romans thought beet juice was an aphrodisiac. ‘Trust me. I just know.’ He said pulling out his book & scribbling down Knowing what I know. Inside it, he’ll probably spend the whole night in front of page after page of metaphysics. This is no time to make new enemies, I thought. So I dropped it all together & told him I believed him.

That seemed him to calm him down, the color slowly worked it’s way back into his face & he spend the rest of the class telling me about G.I. Joe, Go Trains, Gotham City, & Gargantua.

After the bell I went outside for a smoke. On the way someone had written LOVE TRUTH, PARDON ERROR, which I stared at for a few minutes. After I was done staring at it I was smiling & didn’t much feel like a cigarette.

In fact I took the cigarette I had ready in my hand & ripped it in two. I tore the paper back off the filter & tossed it on the ground. Right next to an empty pop can, someone’s balled up homework, & a piece of gum that was mashed into the ground & had turned a grim shade of black over time.

Instead of smoking I took the healthy alternative of simply walking around the block.

The largest tree that occupied the school grounds was a sight for sore eyes. Almost all of it’s lowest limbs had been taken from it. It was skinny & hardly alive. The branches that still held onto it’s leaves were few, & they were already changing color even though summer was still in full swing. As I passed by I borrowed one of them. It had three colors spanning across it. Green that turned into yellow that turned into a small portion of red, which apparently was very delicious to something, as it had been slightly nibbled on. The stem felt strong & as I spun it in between my thumb & pointer finger it almost seemed like the colors were dancing. I got lost in it. I could still see my feet exchanging paces forward in my peripheral vision, but I paid no attention it. I forgot about almost everything, the broken cigarette, the writing on the wall, I don’t even think I would’ve been able to remember my name if someone asked. All that mattered was the leaf spinning. I made it the most important part of my life, just because I thought that I could. No one else even really knew it existed, that was my favourite part. I almost felt like if I didn’t keep the memory of this leaf alive inside my head, than it wouldn’t have even existed. I was the only thing keeping this leaf alive, it made me feel good in a way. I felt as tall as the tree I plucked it from. My lips began to curl into a smile, as I walked right into something.

‘Oops!’ I heard in a voice so lovely it could’ve belonged to the leaf. It snapped me out of my little moment. When I looked up & realized that it was Cassandra.

‘I’m sorry.’ I apologized, shaking my head slightly. I pulled the leaf down my side, it almost embarrassed me while I was standing in front of her.

‘Oh no, It’s my fault I wasn’t watching where I was going.’ She explained. I noticed that she didn’t have any distractions in her hand, like I did. Which made me think that maybe she ran into me on purpose, that idea excited me, although I knew it wasn’t the case.

‘It’s okay,’ I roughed up my hair with my leafless hand. ‘Rather you than a car I suppose.’ That made her smile.

‘Where you going? Don’t you have class?’

‘Yeah I do, I was just going for a short walk. I suppose.’

‘That’s a lovely leaf.’ She said, noticing & pointed down to the hand at my side.

‘I think so too.’ I pulled it up from my side & held it in between us. She reached out & slide her finger down the side of it, feeling the small veins that were definitely worried & starving from being cut off their life line. Then she reached a bit further & grabbed my hand.

‘Sit down.’ She told me, taking a spot down on the grass. She slipped her bag off her shoulder & went digging inside it. She pulled out her sketchbook, which I grabbed & began to flip through.

She was such a marvelous artist. When I stopped at a certain page it almost punched me in the face, I swear. It was this sketch of her perspective of drawing, it was so life like, her brittle hands hardly holding onto the pencil as she did. The desk she sat at in English class, the small view from the window to her left, the cabinet that sat in front of her. But the best part was the can of coke that rested on the corner of her desk, with two bendable straws hanging out the top of it. It was the only part of the sketch that was colored & it almost glowed a vibrant red that glowed more brilliantly than all the real coke cans, fire trucks, & stop signs I’d ever seen put together. I sit beside her in English & I shared that soda with her. I know I did.

‘Here.’ She said, passing me a pencil, & three colored pencils of green, yellow, & red. She reached over me & flipped the book to an blank page. Taking the leaf out of my hand she placed it under the page. Then with the pencil in my hand she guided my hand towards the page & we started to shade atop the leaf. It was almost drawing itself, as we didn’t really even pay any attention to it. She looked at me & I did my best to do the same. But it was hard. Not in a bad way though, I would look at her & my spine would almost ripple & my cheeks would flinch & my eyebrows jumped, & my eyes just about exploded. It was a lot more wonderful of a feeling than it sounds. She kept staring at me though, smiling. She had these perfect white teeth that looked like little people floating around forming a grin that made my day.

Without even breaking eye contact she pulled the pencil out of my hand & we both looked down at the page at the same time.

The leaf was there. It looked as perfect as it did dancing between my fingers.

She pulled the leaf out from behind the page & laid it down beside the one we had made together. She one by one pulled the pencil crayons from my hand & began to shade the leaf. She would look at me, then the real leaf, then the drawing. First the green, then the yellow, then the red. Then she took the pencil back & slightly accentuated the bite marks.

‘That’s my favourite part.’ She said, pencil tip pointing at the missing chunks.

‘Mine too.’ I told her, & not because I wanted more than anything to agree with her on everything. It really was my favourite part. Then she wrote our names in the corner of the page. Cass & Cayden. It said & it almost made me want to tell her I had a new favourite part.

Instead, the bell rang. It could vaguely heard ringing from where we were sitting, it almost sounded like distant cries. It turned both our heads back in the direction of the school.

‘I guess we better get going.’ She told me, gathering her materials & shoving them gracefully into her bag. We stood up at the same time & brushed off our bums, shaking all the insignificant leaves off them.

& we set off towards the school. I stood closer to her than I do with most people, I was so close to her that as our arms swung with our steady pace. Our hands occasionally brushed each other.

The bold type are voltaire quotes, I kinda gave up on them though.

danialmills @ 2007-10-07T11:20:00

2007-10-07T15:23:49Z

heart warming sounds of recess echo all over. limbs run rapid all over the jungle gym while coats lay over the edge of monkey bars, mittens on strings dangling in the light playtime breeze. children chase each other all over the place, 'tag your it!'. an older group instigate a game of boot hockey & begin to pick some what slanted teams & i can't help but feel sorry for the boy they pick last.

danialmills @ 2007-10-06T22:12:00

2007-10-07T02:15:07Z

moaning & moaning & moaning & moaning! her delicate moans in midmorning! her hand waving over the edge of the building, teasing the rest of her body! her last thoughts in mid air in mid afternoon! her funeral for an empty box! her adventures into the beyond!

well gosh i must just be the weakest person on the planet! look at this brittle limbs hanging themselves low, in embarrasement!

danialmills @ 2007-09-30T23:29:00

2007-10-01T03:38:49Z

in the middle of the hallway, standing right in the middle. right in the way of all my fellow students passing by as they do. i break down, i cry, & i crumble into myself. I become nothing more but scrap paper all balled up & forgotten.

i wish.

these people with proper minds firing with proper ideas.
while i'm stuck sitting at bars, alone, drunk, & smoking cigerettes well into the filter.
people looking so subpar but so perfect. so so so life like.

i'm envious.

danialmills @ 2007-09-29T14:01:00

2007-09-29T18:09:43Z

It was at this point in my life, that all I could do was laugh.

I saw a hundred cars zoom past for my every step, I bet that every single one of them was an asshole. But, I had no way to prove it, so I laughed. A man biked by me shouting crazed about voting & the federal government, & I said to myself 'sometimes ya just gotta talk politics!' & I laughed. I saw a beautiful girl in a bus shelter also being occupied by three low life junkies, her uncomfortable face gave me insight into her mind & I laughed. I passed where the road sign for High St. used to be & I thought of all the stony youth lounging in cloudy basements laughing as I was. I witnessed a toddler hoist up a large tin can as if it was the Stanley Cup only to tumble over under it's weight & I laughed. A women squeeging windows asked me for a smoke & I told her about the hundreds of windows I squeeged just to afford this one. I shouldn't have laughed, but it was all I could do. A plane roared over head with a slogan of all the very important people it held & how they were all doing this a million times more important than me, Like signing papers & I laughed. I thought about sitting in my dentist's chair with a view of nothing more than a bright light & two sets of digits roaming my mouth, that made me laugh so hard I almost choked on her fingers. I was locked out of my house & the rain clouds about to burst overhead were laughing at me, till I joined them. All the times my sneezes went unblessed, all the doors I was never thanked for holding, all made me howl. The corniest jokes the world had to offer, religious wars, palidromes, waiting in line, asking for directions, changing socks, advanced greens, books without covers, ripping pages out of three ring binders, loud amplifiers, tiny shards of glass in front of barefeet, all had me in stitches.

danialmills @ 2007-09-25T19:49:00

2007-09-25T23:49:35Z

skate more guiz!

danialmills @ 2007-09-25T15:06:00

2007-09-25T19:16:18Z

i just had the best shave of my life & it made me thinking that growing older for boys is just watching the whiskers multiply on the sides of the sink.

her hands all over my face molding me, sculpting me. standing back and framing me with her thumb & pointer finger, she always does that. it kills me. i want her to feel like i'm an accomplishment, i want to feel like i'm her work of art. i want her to put me into a glass case, i want to be displayed people & let them know i'm hers. i want her to forget about me sometimes so she can rediscover me on a later day. so i can see the same grin she grinned when i first fit her frame.

as messy as messy can be

does having scientists know that diphenhydramine hydrochloride causes drowsiness/sleep to a human, or the ability to push your buttons like a machine make you sleep easier or worse at night?

danialmills @ 2007-09-23T23:22:00

2007-09-24T03:34:03Z

i know where my brain is
i have no clue where my mind is

i want to know what the effects are on a youth mind depending on their exposure to poverty at an early age. i want to know if seeing your parents avoid streetkids asking for spare change when your at a young age is more damaging to your mind than seeing them for the first time when you are older.

i want to make a list of comparasions of x-men to homosexual marriage.

i've been thinking about if this girl at my school that i've never talked to before likes fallen trees & i really want to ask her but I don't want her to not know what i mean, or when i ask just say "...what?"

i once had a huge crush on this girl that I would see walking around in the halls of my school. we never ever spoke before unless you consider an exchange of smiles worth a few words. i noticed that she was always wearing this bracelet that said 'Lavender' on it. so i got this great idea that I would go out and buy her a bunch of that lavender scented oil that you burn in your room and it's very fung swey & shit like that. so that's exactly what I did, & i went to school the next day to give her it as a present. but it turned out that it was a medic alert braclet that she was wearing, she went into a seizure & died right in front of me, before i even heard code blue over the school pa system.

the first time that i ever meet anybody i think negative negative thoughts about them inside my head, just to test to see if they can read minds. cause i assume that if they can & are hearing what i'm saying inside my head i will be able to gauge it with some sort of facial reaction. i have yet to meet anyone who can read minds.

i also have been spending alot of time wondering if i'm less alive every second.

i don't know....

danialmills @ 2007-09-22T02:36:00

2007-09-22T06:39:37Z

mass weight why not spend the nighr come inside warmth light ideas spastic type all the right type i left you here earlier you spend your days validating yourslef like a lightshade hanging over my head like the rules like everything i know that'll neverhappen cats walking on the ceiling & i'll begin to believe in god oh my god i dopnt' think ever really i think that thinking is ridiclious i know where my brain is but where is my mind planets away planets i've never even heard of ideas and ideas and ideas of what to do withm myself but i;kk never achieve them cause my face will always be my face sometimes lonelyness is a punch in the neck sometimes humble acts are skin deep andi bet you run deeper than that i even bet that you know what what what waht you want to do with your fyuuture and at the endo f it all with your mind worth a half a million dol,lars & youi'lln ever hae lived a day in your life don't do that to yourself stay awhile and figure out what youi need and i'll sit and pray that i make that list.

danialmills @ 2007-09-18T18:45:00

2007-09-18T22:51:54Z

i'm bloated, i'm stuffed, full of secrets & word's i'll never let go of cause you told me not too.

danialmills @ 2007-09-11T18:35:00

2007-09-11T22:54:22Z

The ethics of reciprocity are supposed to be the backbone to human rights. Treat others as you yourself wish to be treated. But I don't understand how it's supposed to work, as i think about all my mind can come to how flawed it is & how this flaw creates most of the problems our culture makes.

With everyone considering & accepting this ideology what you have is everyone acting in manner that they wished to be treated. Now when two people collide & act towards each other in a manner that they wish to be acted towards, how are they supposed to respond? Who is supposed change themselves so that one person is treating the other they way they want to. The thing is no one will. No one wants to drop their beliefs to please another. How are you to decide such a thing? The bigger/taller one wins? Rock, paper, scissors? What you create with this is as uncrossable as no man's land. What you create is the arguement of pro-choice/pro-life, homosexual marriage, stem cell research.

No one ever wants to listen anymore, everyone is only interested in their own ideas. People give you their attention only to pay attention to when you'll stop to speak so they can begin again. Sometimes when i'm having conversations with people they make me feel like i'm a train stopping them at the tracks on their way from point a to point b.

Sometimes I like to listen though, I really seriously do. I like playing ignorant in conversations & be oblivious to everything. If someone mentions something, anything really. Even if i already know loads on the subject & in some cases probably more than the person, i'll pretend that i don't. So that they will explain it to me, this is probably my favourite part of talking to people. Cause explanations are like footprints. Everyone describes things different, everyones perspective is what I like to listen to. The different adjectives they use when weaving in and out of the facts, their opinions on certain events. Sometimes they'll say false information, & i'll totally know it. Cause the whole time they're explaining I'm following along in my head, noticing the difference in the way that my brother told me & this person is. It's like an alarm going off in my head when they're wrong. But I never correct them, because I mean what's the use? I think they're better off spreading wrong information, takes some of the blame of substandard media sources.

I'll just let them keep spillin' their beans, while i eat it up.

danialmills @ 2007-09-04T23:32:00

2007-09-05T03:48:39Z

sometimes i feel like i have arms with a reach to slim to reach anyone. sometimes i find myself thinking that people are only in association for some sort of merit & that our relationship is as meaningless as a man you bump into on the streets to them. sometimes when i'm thinking that i feel ashamed & frustrated at myself for thinking that i'm worth some sort of merit. sometimes i think i'm defective in life's simple exercises. sometimes i find myself unable to enter a store because i don't want to bother it's cashiers with my presence. sometimes man people just intimidate me but. sometimes i just can't hold a conversation with someone cause i'll find myself so caught up in my own peril that i have a thousand anxious words & not one of them is ever makes a suitable response. sometimes i want to disconnect & sometimes i have just gone outside to touch nature just touch it. sometimes it's picking leaves off a tree & sometimes it's building little castles in the park with about fourteen sticks, two leaves, a roof piece ripped off my cigarettes package, & a little chimney to make me wish we were twelve centermetres tall so we could move in & start a fire start a home together. sometimes i think about a future without me & sometimes i can't imagine a future without you. sometimes i think i'm supposed to do something worthwhile with myself. sometimes i doubt that i'll ever finish high school. sometimes i tell people my dreams, and no one believes me. or sometimes they just scold me for my ideal lifestyle & poke me with bullshit jokes about my ideology. sometimes i just wish they're was an easier way, i guess that's all.

queer

2007-09-02T17:14:45Z

In line at 7/11 to pay for gas that I’m just going to burn. In front of me is a large man purchasing pork rinds, bottled water, two sour keys, a box of condoms, & this months Maxim featuring my third grade teacher on the cover. (She’s been a very bad girl the magazine insures me ‘Oh how the tables have turned’ I think to myself.) I reminisce of a third grade egg drop experiment from science class. Where I spent a month carefully calibrating a perfect carriage to safely guide my egg to the ground. I crunch numbers & work out multifarious chaos equations. I sweet talk my egg, assuring it that it is in no immediate danger. (I be extremely cautious to avoid words such as scrambled, omelette, & hollandaise in this conversation.) When the time finally comes to drop the egg, I can hardly do it. I step to the edge. Choking up as I remember choking up with separation anxiety. I drop the egg & for this I receive the memory engraving sound of one very cracked egg.

It is for this reason that while standing in line at 7/11,
I begin to cry like a little bitch.

danialmills @ 2007-08-29T03:05:00

2007-08-29T07:07:06Z

she had white teeth floating around like little people forming a grin that made my world.

danialmills @ 2007-08-24T18:34:00

2007-08-24T22:36:25Z

tossed out as broken bones
my name is yours & i eat compliments.

danialmills @ 2007-08-23T21:13:00

2007-08-24T01:18:37Z

the fog smashes into the headlights as the radio vibrates the walls & the idea of a better tomorrow.

before & after mugshots, mimic each other. you haven't changed a bit, but maybe i'm just peering deeper that normal perception can dive.

i want your voice echoing the soundwaves.