I am walking
out in the rain
and I am listening to the low moan
of the dial tone again
and I am getting
nowhere with you
and I can’t let it go
and I can’t get through…
the old woman behind the pink curtains
and the closed door
on the first floor
she’s listening through the air shaft
to see how long our swan song can last
and both hands
now use both hands
oh, no don’t close your eyes
I am writing
graffitti on your body
I am drawing the story of
how hard we tried
I am watching your chest rise and fall
like the tides of my life,
and the rest of it all
and your bones have been my bedframe
and your flesh has been my pillow
I am waiting for sleep
to offer up the deep
with both hands
in eachother’s shadows we grew less and less tall
and eventually our theories couldn’t explain it all
and I’m recording our history now on the bedroom wall
and when we leave the landlord will come
and paint over it all
and I am walking
out in the rain
and I am listening to the low moan of the dial tone again
and I am getting nowhere with you
and I can’t let it go
and I can’t get though
So now use both hands
please use both hands
oh, no don’t close your eyes
I am writing graffitti on your body
I am drawing the story of how hard we tried
hard we tried
how hard we tried

Still shes on her knees, and Scotty doesn’t know..

if you don’t want to read it stop looking at it.

When I said I’d take it, I meant AS IS.

Jesus christ.

So text me and say fuck you. Fine.

Call me and leave a message about everything. Fine.

But don’t call and ask to talk for closure, and send me a nasty fucking text message. Belligerently drunk. Go figure.

So sorry I didn’t pick up.

I was with Ryan.

And sorry if you are under the misconception that this is a product of you giving some guy a fucking blow job. But Jesus Christ on the mother fucking cross, please do not tell me you are that goddamn naive.

THIS is a product of many things. Yelling drunken nights. Miserable make up sessions. the endless make up sex. The depression. I have phyiscal fucking scars from where I cut myself because I was so goddamn depressed. And you probably do to. But they don’t even compare to the emotional ones. And eventually physical violence.

Throw in the fact that I have fucked 6 people, 5 of which you knew about, 1 of which you were convinced happened, which you can’t handle. Congrats. You were right. You were fucking right. Don’t you just love being right?

You always had to be.

Fuck you. Fuck you for having the fucking gall to act like this is the fact that I can’t get over the fact that you gave a blow job, when you probably still cry about the fact that I fucked Jamie and I throughly enjoyed fucking doing it.

You were so goddamn perfect. What the fuck happened. Who ripped out the fucking soul of the person that I fell in love with 2 summers ago, and fed it to the fucking dogs.

I loved you so much.

I listened to the first mix tape I made you and cried my fucking eyes out. I cried until I couldn’t fucking breathe Wonderful Tonight came on, and I remembered how goddamn gorgeous you looked as I walked you up to my room to dance. You were my angel, my saving fucking grace.

And now you went and pissed on it. We pissed all fucking over it.

I don’t give a good goddamn what your opinion is of me. At least when I snort coke, I am forced to look in a fucking mirror.

You should try that, you fucking child.

I loved you so much.

Fuck you.

There’s always a moment, “I can do this, I can give into this, or I can resist it”

Well….

I’m in something.

love?

lust?

loneliness?

I think that falling in love is like stepping in dog shit barefoot. You step into it, and for a moment, it feels warm and good in between your toes. And then you scream, “Awww FUCK!”

be my somebody tonight..

I gooot a daaaate..

whoo hoo.

if all else fails, it’s a free dinner I suppose

we are recording history on the bedroom wall, and when we leave the landlord will come paint over..

Wow….stoned again.

go figure.

My Wednesday night was INSANE. So I had like 3 guys all up on my nuts, one of which literally said, and I quote “I wanna fuck you.”

No, please avoid all levels of tact. that’s so sexy, so refined.

If I had been 16, 17, or even 18, it would have been a dream come true. Perfect.

Now…it was such a turn off. I donno why. and he was very good looking, really charismatic, lawyer to be, smart, funny, and sexy as fucking hell.

But I was so turned off.

I drooled over this kid when I walked in to Godfrey’s last Christmas break.

Now, I get to a chance to fuck him and I pass.

Hello, Dr. Jeykll…we though Hyde had killed you by now.

And THEN

I take Richie home because he’s drunk, but by this point I’m sober, and I have been like all about the kid since I don’t know when. All of my friends at school say that the look in my eye when I look at him is so cute/depressing. Again, smart, funny, sexy…etc list goes on.

He starts making out with me while I am trying to find his house key. And we do this for a good long while. And he says allllll these mixed things, and we all know my heart or whatevers left of it is sitting on my sleeve.

He goes on about how much of an amazing friend I am and how much i mean to him, and then we are going and he says “I love you, Tyler”

And the confusion like erupts. He was trying to get in my pants for sometime, and then we did, and then he seemed completely uninterested in even talking to me, and and then we get really close and thats where we are now. The way he said it was so not how you say it to a friend who only matters as much as a friend to you, even when your drunk. But thats all we have ever been, sans the recent making out and one night stand however long ago. I donno.

“you have the best smile, and those cute chipmunk cheeks. and i love it when you shave your head”

so confused.

“I love you too, Richie”

 

So…acting class today.

 

It was my first class with emotional recall. Or whatever.

 

I feel like I just ran 5 miles. I am emotionally exhausted, and it wasn’t even me working most of the time.

 

We are doing life scenes, which consist of a conversation that has deeply affected you emotionally.

 

Everyone was crying. I was trying really hard to keep it together and then I lost it.

 

And this is why we act. All actors have these pent up emotions that we don’t want to deal with. So we pretend to be other people.

 

But Barry Bell says, “Fuck that.”

 

 

 

I just finished talking to Justin yesterday. The scene I am in with Claire is basically me saying exactly what I said to him. And I got the same reaction. I saw him the entire time.

When we were done, I ran out the door, fell to the floor and sobbed.

 

 

 

The people outside must have thought I was crazy.

 

And then there was another scene about being in love with a straight boy.

 

 

 

Again…sobbed. I got to the bathroom this time though. I hadn’t thought about Charlie in weeks until today. And I just looked at his Facebook for the first time in I don’t know how long, Grease probably.

Still beautiful, fluent in French, and pretty much everything I want.

At least he left the bitch he fucked me over for.

 

 

 

 

This weekend better be good, and I am looking forward to seeing Matt and Jackie, Sean hopefully.

 

 

 

 

I just want to be wasted. And loved.

All alone, as I have learned to be

there was a time when I
had nothing to explain
oh, this mess I have made
but then things got complicated
my innocence has all but faded
oh, this mess I have made
and I don’t
believe in God
so I can’t
be saved
all alone,
as I’ve learned to be
in this mess
I have made

all the untested virtue
the things I said I’d never do
least of all to you
I know he’s kind and true
I know that he is good to you
he’ll never care for you more than I do

but I don’t (no I don’t)
believe in love
so I can’t
be tamed (be saved)
all alone,
as I’ve learned to be
in this mess
I have made
the same mistakes
over and over
again

Head under water

and they tell me to breathe easy for a while

the breathing gets harder, even i know that

 

You made room for me but it’s too soon to see

if I’m happy in your hands

I’m unusually hard to hold on to

 

Blank stares at blank pages

no easy way to say this

you mean well, but you make this hard on me

 

I’m not gonna write you a love song

’cause you asked for it

’cause you need one, you see

I’m not gonna write you a love song

’cause you tell me it’s

make or breaking this

if you’re on your way

I’m not gonna write you to stay

If all you have is leaving I’m gonna need a better reason to write you a love song today

 

I learned the hard way

that they all say things you want to hear

and my heavy heart sinks deep down under you

and your twisted words, your help just hurts

you are not what i thought you were

hello to high and dry

 

Convinced me to please you

made me think that I need this too

I’m trying to let you hear me as I am

 

I’m not gonna write you a love song

’cause you asked for it

’cause you need one, you see

I’m not gonna write you a love song

’cause you tell me it’s

make or breaking this

if you’re on your way

I’m not gonna write you to stay

If all you have is leaving I’m gonna need a better reason to write you a love song today

 

Promise me that you’ll leave the light on

to help me see with daylight, my guide, gone

’cause I believe there’s a way you can love me because I say

 

I wont write you a love song

’cause you asked for it

’cause you need one you see

I’m not gonna write you a love song

’cause you tell me it’s make or breaking this

is that why you wanted a love song

’cause you asked for it

’cause you need one you see

I’m not gonna write you a love song

’cause you tell me it’s make or breaking this

if you’re on your way

I’m not gonna write you to stay

if your heart is nowhere in it

I don’t want it for a minute

Babe, I’ll walk the seven seas when i believe that there’s a reason to

write you a love song today

 

We starve-look
At one another
Short of breath
Walking proudly in our winter coats
Wearing smells from laboratories
Facing a dying nation
Of moving paper fantasy
Listening for the new told lies
With supreme visions of lonely tunes

Somewhere
Inside something there is a rush of
Greatness
Who knows what stands in front of
Our lives
I fashion my future on films in space
Silence
Tells me secretly
Everything
Everything

I’m not going to write you a love song, cause you asked for it..

Head under water
and they tell me to breathe easy for a while
the breathing gets harder, even i know that

You made room for me but it’s too soon to see
if I’m happy in your hands
I’m unusually hard to hold on to

Blank stares at blank pages
no easy way to say this
you mean well, but you make this hard on me

I’m not gonna write you a love song
’cause you asked for it
’cause you need one, you see
I’m not gonna write you a love song
’cause you tell me it’s
make or breaking this
if you’re on your way
I’m not gonna write you to stay
If all you have is leaving I’m gonna need a better reason to write you a love song today

I learned the hard way
that they all say things you want to hear
and my heavy heart sinks deep down under you
and your twisted words, your help just hurts
you are not what i thought you were
hello to high and dry

Convinced me to please you
made me think that I need this too
I’m trying to let you hear me as I am

I’m not gonna write you a love song
’cause you asked for it
’cause you need one, you see
I’m not gonna write you a love song
’cause you tell me it’s
make or breaking this
if you’re on your way
I’m not gonna write you to stay
If all you have is leaving I’m gonna need a better reason to write you a love song today

Promise me that you’ll leave the light on
to help me see with daylight, my guide, gone
’cause I believe there’s a way you can love me because I say

I wont write you a love song
’cause you asked for it
’cause you need one you see
I’m not gonna write you a love song
’cause you tell me it’s make or breaking this
is that why you wanted a love song
’cause you asked for it
’cause you need one you see
I’m not gonna write you a love song
’cause you tell me it’s make or breaking this
if you’re on your way
I’m not gonna write you to stay
if your heart is nowhere in it
I don’t want it for a minute
Babe, I’ll walk the seven seas when i believe that there’s a reason to
write you a love song today

…fuck you.

Prove that you love me, and buy the next round..

so I am writing this paper on transgender rights. And I just wrote something and would like some feedback:

 From a very small age, we are all taught that girls play with dolls and boys play with trucks, and so on and so forth. Boys and girls who defied these societal “norms” were frequently looked down upon, or at least looked upon as “different”. However, trucks and dolls are the tip of the iceberg when it comes to being transgender. These men and women feel completely foreign to their own anatomy, let alone their so called “gender roles”.

The population of men and women who are seeking gender reassignment surgery or merely classify themselves as “transgender” are continually scrutinized for something they have no control over. They are constantly discriminated against, many of which are turned down for job opportunities or even fired from their positions because of a biological malfunction. This has the same legitimacy as not hiring someone who plans on changing their hair from blonde to brown. In order to prevent such injustice, nation wide anti-discrimination laws should be put in place and upheld. The ignorant and backwards views of the current American conservative limit people who have done nothing wrong.

            There are many men and women who disagree with this thought. Many people think that you are born purely man or woman and that there is no discrepancy to be had. For example, in 2001 the Campaign for California Families took out a full page newspaper advertisement to argue against proposed legislation to amend the definition of “gender” in California’s employment discrimination statute to include transgender people. The advertisement read: “The state should not promote the transsexual agenda on society. Little girls should not be influenced in any way to think they are boys, nor little boys influenced to think they are girls. This bill makes the State approve of transsexuality and sets up an unnatural standard for adults and children…This bill makes trassexuality a full blown civil right. This is an insult to people of color and other racial minorities who have fought for equal opportunity through civil rights based on unchangeable characteristics….It is an attack on nature. People are born with 46 chromosomes, XX for females, XY males. You are either born male or female, and there are no in-betweens. This bill would promote an unnatural and radical sexual agenda that erodes nature and attacks the sensibilities of families” (Transgender Rights 15).

            However, the people of the Campaign for California “Families” (a matter of dispute in this humble author’s opinion) could not be further from the truth. The goal of this legislation was not influence boys and girls to defy their supposed “gender” but promote the well being of California citizens who were receiving discrimination for being transgender. Few children would pick up a copy of the California discrimination statute for some light reading. It is arguable that the children would have no idea the legislation was being pushed forth had their parents not taken out a full page advertisement arguing against the legislation. The children would have had no idea what was going on until they were adults seeking employment, with already formulated ideas of their own gender.

            Furthermore, while the bill might make the state recognize and protect it’s transgender citizens (Heaven forbid a state protect it citizens. Isn’t that Bush’s whole reason for keeping us in a war we’ve already lost?), it is in no way forcing any sort of “unnatural standard” on anyone. It is just making the state do its job.

 

but I’m always true to you, darling in my fashion

I am writing
graffitti on your body
I am drawing the story of
how hard we tried
I am watching your chest rise and fall
like the tides of my life,
and the rest of it all
and your bones have been my bedframe
and your flesh has been my pillow
I am waiting for sleep
to offer up the deep
with both hands
in each other’s shadows we grew less and less tall
and eventually our theories couldn’t explain it all
and I’m recording our history now on the bedroom wall
and eventually the landlord will come
and paint over it all
and I am walking
out in the rain
and I am listening to the low moan of the dial tone again
and I am getting nowhere with you
and I can’t let it go
and I can’t get though
So now use both hands
please use both hands
oh, no don’t close your eyes
I am writing graffitti on your body
I am drawing the story of how hard we tried
hard we tried
how hard we tried

 

 

I don’t wanna talk
About the things we’ve gone through
Though it’s hurting me
Now it’s history
I’ve played all my cards
And that’s what you’ve done too
Nothing more to say
No more ace to play

The winner takes it all
The loser standing small
Beside the victory
That’s her destiny

I was in your arms
Thinking I belonged there
I figured it made sense
Building me a fence
Building me a home
Thinking I’d be strong there
But I was a fool
Playing by the rules

The gods may throw a dice
Their minds as cold as ice
And someone way down here
Loses someone dear
The winner takes it all
The loser has to fall
It’s simple and it’s plain
Why should I complain?

 

 

I heard he sang a good song, I heard he had a style
And so I came to see him, and listen for a while
And there he was, this young boy, a stranger to my eyes

Strumming my pain with his fingers
Singing my life with his words
Killing me softly with his song
Killing me softly… with his song
Telling my whole life with his words
Killing me softly… with his song

I felt all flushed with fever, embarrassed by the crowd
I felt he found my letters, and read each one aloud
I prayed that he would finish, but he just kept right on

Strumming my pain with his fingers
Singing my life with his words
Killing me softly with his song

 

 

I remember when you looked into my eyes
You saw right though me and I could not hide
I was exposed just like a child
All of my heart you hold in your hands
I’m yours to command, I’m yours to command
I feel so humbled, with you in my life, with you in my life

I remember when I looked into your eyes
I saw a reflection of myself and I could not lie
Out of control too weak to deny
All of my soul is naked before you but what can I do
There is nothing I can do
I feel so beautiful with you in my life

The last great punk rock song before I unspike my hair and carry on…

So. Update. Slash Reflection.

 

Justin and I are back together. And it’s actually quite fantastic, thank you very much. So you can take your nay saying and shove it. Actually, I feel that this is better than the first time. We share the love, new love almost that we had at the start, yet we have a much better understanding of each other and most importantly ourselves.

 

We both grew a lot this summer. I know I did. I was so hurt and so very jaded to idea of love that I, in typical Tyler fashion, got drunk and philandered*. Throw in an eight of this, and an eight ball of that and I was completely and utterly numb. Which is how I generally like it. If I hadn’t done that, many things probably would not have happened they did and I would not have hurt the people who matter to me most.

 

I have a much better understanding of myself. The credit is partly due to shrooms, but most is due to long walks around the cemetery and my friends telling me about myself. I don’t believe one can really just have a bunch of sudden self-realizations. You can’t be like “Oh my God, I am so—-” as you pour cornflakes. You need other people to help point out, blatantly or just through their actions, who you are. The person you are is reflected in the faces of those around you. How you interact with them, how they interact with you, etc. To think otherwise is incredibly arrogant and ultimately self-destructive.  

 

It’s the true purpose of a husband or wife. To show you who you really are and to show that they care about you because of/in spite of those attributes. Not some one to eat with everyday, not some to fuck…anyone can do those things. Anyone can fill space in your bed.

 

I have, thus, become much more introspective, trying to truly figure out who I am and how I truly feel about things. This will benefit me tremendously as an actor, but also more importantly just allow me to live my life successfully and to the fullest.

 

It also weeds weak. I realized this summer who my friends really are. Few are standing. Many left me to just do my own thing, I guess viewing it as some act of karma for focusing on Justin so much last semester and not hanging out with them. God forbid one focus on their future husband.

 

However, many people were there for me. Everyone that I expected and a few others. And after hanging out with them, I saw who I really was and who I am becoming.

 

I am now twenty and in one the most, if not the most formative stage(s) in my life. Living in your twenties and thinking that you have this amazing foresight and you know, or that you even have the responsibility to know what you are going to do with the rest of it is absolutely ridiculous.

 

To put in basic terms:

 

20 ÷ 5 = 4.

 

Or

 

5/20= ¼

 

It just doesn’t work out mathematically. To say that I know what I will be doing in even five years is to project ¼ of my lived life. That’s absurd.  

 

I know I want to perform. I just don’t know how the fuck I am going to get there or where I’ll be doing it. And I don’t need to.

 

I finally get who I am to a certain level. And it feels really good. I have a new appreciation of self and a whole new level of self-worth that I will not allow to be violated by anyone. And I am not surrounding myself with people who I think will. I am distancing myself or just immediately removing the poor influences in my life. I am also removing or significantly changing the level of interaction with people who try to control it. I accept myself, and don’t really need anyone else to do that for me anymore.

 

It’s incredibly liberating.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

*phi·lan·der    intr.v.   phi·lan·dered, phi·lan·der·ing, phi·lan·ders

1. To carry on a sexual affair, especially an extramarital affair, with a woman one cannot or does not intend to marry. Used of a man.

 

2. To engage in many love affairs, especially with a frivolous or casual attitude. Used of a man.