They Call Me The Bowie Child

waiting

2005-01-25T03:58:36Z

Waiting To Wake Up
(An anti-heritage poem by ‘Jeph’ Watson)

She comes from a cold world
A world full of monsters
A world full of hate and clash
A horrible world full of anger

They argue and they fight
They kill and pillage
Attack but do not conquer
Murder them and then rob the dead

Never felt the same
Always alone
No one to care for each other
All depends on them

She slips a smile and they sew her lips together
She tries to speak and they cut off her tongue
She tries to escape but they follow her close
She is doomed a life of hate and murder

Tried and failed
The girl now sits in a corner
Dark and dirty
She shivers in the night

Her friends all taken away or killed
Eyes fill with tears
Loneliness sets in
Insanity now occupies her head

They broke her soul
When they broke her guitar
They killed her spirit
When they burned her paintings

Heart full of dread
Head full of demons
Fingers are blistered from scratching at the walls
Of the cell she now occupies

She loves the pain
From heart break
From the water that fills her lungs
From the nails into her head

She somehow cracks a smile
And knows this is all a dream
Because she knows that she is somewhere asleep
Waiting to wake up

what do you think?? should i work this one out?? AH!

oh man

2005-01-18T03:31:22Z

my dad fucking rocks.

i emailed him saying 'daddy my teen angst needs to stop...'

to which he replyed

Yeah, right.

You have only been a teenager for 10 minutes.
It gets better and easier after you noticed that Satan has actually moved in, then you know YOU are not
responsible, you blame it on his pitchfork.
But, that only works on yer mom, that shit does play in MY world(hehe).

i love my father beyond words...

Last Night

2005-01-13T14:06:01Z

Last night i had a dream
i believe it was about a boy that i may or may not know...
anyway, my parents were exchanging the lexis for a new one and so i needed to stay at a hotel for some reason... no problem. so the boy came over and e watched movies and talked and i fell asleep underthe covers and in my cloths. about 5 mins later i realize that the boy has his arm around my waste... it felt phonemenal... to be close to some one and not feel occward was nice. then i woke up back into my old room (still dreaming) i felt bad because i realized i must hae fell asleep and when my friend left i didnt say goodbye...i got up and looked at my bed and there was a cupple peices of paper addressed to me lying there... so i picked them up and began to read... it said that 'i love you' and i know this may sound strange but i put picutres and memories of us and i just wanted to remind you of our friendship and this to not be weird... so i was like in tears because apparently i was in love with him too... so i was looking at these pictures of us and i remeber feeling in love... in my dream...

thanks

bowie_child @ 2004-12-19T23:13:00

2004-12-20T06:14:12Z

Cut this picture into you and me
Burn it backwards, kill this history
Make it over, make it stay away
Or hate'll sing the ending that
Love started to say

There's a kid a floor below me singing
Brother can you spare sunshine for a brother
Old man winter's in the air
Walked me up a story, asking how ya' are
Told me not to worry, you're
Just a shooting star

Sweet Adeline
Sweet Adeline
My Clementine
Sweet Adeline

It's a picture perfect evening and I'm staring down the sun
Fully loaded, deaf and dumb and done
Waiting for sedation to disconnect MY head
Or any situation where I'm
Better off than dead

i love that song.

hot much do i miss my daddy??

2004-12-17T07:50:04Z

sssssoooooooooooooo much!!!

daddy behind the drums

i made him that shirt....

daddy and the old man...

Rob Douglas, i miss him so much!

maxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx, hes so cool.

and the beautiful stephonie finch

i really miss my father figure.

Winston Watson

Look him up.......

i need to stop

2004-12-14T05:53:43Z

Taking a blank, empty, sheet of paper and number 2 pencil I started to let my ideas and thoughts spill furiously onto the paper. Letting my eyes scan over the somewhat fascinating scribbles I picked up my new ballpoint pen shed itself of its cap. Feeling a rush of excitement I carefully pressed the pen onto the illegible yet recognizable etchings and let the pen plummet onto the paper. A single bead of sweat fall from my forehead for the excitement…and of course my reading lamp that was there to show me the light. Taking a final deep breath and exhaling a sudden blow, the eraser scraps flew off the paper revealing a freshly inked comic strip inspired by a true versifier. I let out another deep breath and slumped back into my black synthetic chair. The rush of accomplishment swept over me like a sudden breeze…unpredictable.

deep....