You dont understand Chris
You are the best thing for me
You are a collection of dusty white illusions, desires, love on window panes
the color and tinge of which I am so excitable about
putting up in our new home
your face inspires me to write
like the angels
your face inspires me to be free
the compassion,
if only you knew less,
and more of how much it makes me
sad
because you relinquish the love in my heart
by
folding it half in half, half in half
till there is nothing for the world to be seen
reverted back to where I've been
touched by an untouch
closed
because all of the love that I've known
is not tangible
never tangible enough
I've waited months
I've waited near a year
because how can someone own up to all my dreams
materialize them as all I see
need me
but not enough to enter into security
the commitment of short chance
the security of knowing nothing will always last
and that doesnt make me seem bitter
feel bitter
in the upturned corners of my heart
its that something
something keeps you from rolling into me
something to conceal yourself from me
its not what you want
its not what you feel
if that's the case then why cant I leave?
why cant I walk my spirit out of your life
without you noticing every detail
without some sadness in my wake?
because you want to brush your angelic knuckles across my streaming skin
because you need my mind to guide you, to get inside you
because you dont know
but you like it when you touch me
you talk to me like a concerned parent in your sleep
when I'm fine
quiet, assuming of the worst
because this would, and was the very first
that he's all that he projected himself to be
he loves, and so tenderly, so carefully, so fully
so it makes sense
that he wont give of himself to an item that includes me
and its not me,
you say honestly
but you cant say it isnt you
your perceptions
of what are boundaries
and zipties
isnt true
I'm not like your women
I know what it means to love
I give you air, I give you breath
I give you laughter, and the wind
I give you earth, I give you security
I give you pools to soothe your ridgid mind, to let the heaviness sink and be left behind
a place to allways land, to always fall
EVen when you loose your precious mind
Always know I'd be there to closely follow behind
I give you understanding
I give you your genious
because I have enough of it to not take yours for mine
I know what it means to love
I know what it takes to love you
even if you dont know, its true
mixed up beautiful man
just silence yourself and lets walk away
hand in hand
because I wont take up half your bed
I wont make you build a second-life
from the lies you have to tell your parents on behalf of me
and I wont kick and scream when time comes for life to carry you away from me
and I wont put taxes on my body, because if its my land
you can have it freely
and I wont tell you one thing, then judge you based on another
I wont follow you around the house
I wont take your money
or make you pay my way
because you are darling to me, because both you and I are different from they
You're present when I hear this song.
As if our moment in time
and futures unknown
simply belong.
One hears the sound of water
that you hold so dear.
Washing away regret
and all that you fear.
Its rhythm flows
over worn thresholds,
pulling life's splinters
levelling down time.
Just as you ebb
from your story's past
to contain its pain,
you propel past rocks
and aspire to climb.
Its tempo is buoyant, upbeat, urgent.
As your gifts to others becomes
more evident,
more replete,
more fluent.
Its tone is carefree, deep and abundant.
Just as your voice shares its light, insightful sentient.
The song takes its time to bring us through.
As you unveil the vibrance of your colorful view.
And as you savor today's moments,
seek it significance,
in everything
you do.
C. . .
I hope you
like this song,
this poem,
Oh, I hope I got it right.
I felt your presence,
heard this song,
wrote this poem,
just tonight.
The day sets sudden into summer shimmering
blind beasts patchy and lost
wander hopelessly along the tarmac trails of rubber foot caravans.
My mind races rancid thoughts forward
the winner takes all
that winter melancholy waving funeral flags at the finish line.
I'll bite down my teeth on the metal masculinity
and taste holiday nostalgia:
burning meat,
drunken rednecks,
fireworks just past dusk,
that mixture of sulfur and black powder,
fumes.
I can't keep on like this,
knees shaky from miles measured in ruby minutes.
I'll eat this city whole,
carbon emission load before my final marathon.
These teeth will shine down like symmetrical clouds in the sky
my mad mans brittle grin.
I used to wish:
for finer living in laps of luxury;
for nights wrapped in silk, sweat, shine, and infamy;
for heavens gates to open pearly white to golden streets for me.
Those days have lost their charm
beaten dreams that bellied up
and showed their starving guts.
Submitted and laid down
with their tails tucked between legs
and panting for mercy
my dreams play bottom bitch to reality's sadistic hand.
As for now;
I hope.
Hope I can hold the fire in my hand
to burn my life and this city to the ground
the pile of ashes will bare no souls return.
That silent hour,
I want to be alone and involved
in the fashion of dogs.
I'll wander off alone to the trees.
My brittle ribs showing
the silent cage of my black and tired heart.
The trees will whisper their names to me
as my spirit shakes their shining leaves in rising.
Goodbye you lion;
your angel face was as quiet as ever,
slack and pale under a harvest moon.
I tried to quit smoking last week. And my best friend died for eighteen hours. Such a deep loss has only been felt by rose hips, in the early winter, after the petals have fallen to the ground, like snow, like jumpers from high-rise buildings, like a maiden, after that last, fatal step off the plank, with swords at her back, and the horizon calling to her, the song of the Sirens drifting up from the ocean floor. Dropping, like petals, caught in a harsh winter breeze. The left-overs, the carcases of the flowers that were and are no more, watch with eyes of sorrow and hearts of lead, as each friend, companion, lover, even casual aquaintance plummets, to land on the already frozen soil of a dead, snowless, Colorado winter.
I died with my friend. My roots were tangled, and with each second that passed, a million axes took bites out of them, feasting on my identity. The axes were only gold-plated, it would seem, and not pure, unadulterated precious metal. Engraved in the paper-thin facade was a name, a face, and a hope, all of which were merely a poor excuse for an excersise in willpower. The cold, iron blade shone through the thin, gently curved lines of lip and ear and eye made of nebula. With each breath that passed between loosely parted lips, I felt myself fade, giving my everthing to the world (hope, name, face) that had, only moments before, murdered my closest companion.
My eyes grew steadily hard, increased stone-content. By 6:30, I had been staring into the eyes of my mistress, Medusa, for at least two hours, my head filled with love songs and daydreams, clutching straws and holding out for the one perfect moment that would shed a brief light on my life, which is, in all reality, the afformentioned pirate ship, but void of lamps, candles, or any other means of illumination.
Questions flowed to the surface of my disjointed mind in a stream, a river, an oceanic current of molten rock and sloppy second guesses.
(Will one hurt? Half? Just one puff? Why? Why? Why?)
And as I turned to stone, I finally found the courage to answer one of the questions that my brain shot itself with, injected into its own blood stream. The question was the sole bullet in a revolving, high-stakes betting game, the answer, the fourth trigger pull, with only two chances left anyway.
(Because... I don't know why...)
So stand up, go to the place you have thought about two-million times, and, yes, smoke, smoke, smoke that cigarette.
As my friend rose from the dead, pushing aside the boulder blocking the entrance to its tomb, which everyone knew was just a temporary tenement, and we were reunited, we spoke of fascists. Well, I spoke of fascists, it listened. I spoke of the kind of fascists that exist in grayscale television commercials, spewing ingnorant words about the untimely deaths of beloved family members, who give me dirty looks in public, and have forced me into alleyways, across streets, out of sight, out of mind, to the back of the bus, as if non-smokers live forever, as if everyone can accomplish said impossible feat, if not for the evil plant, the evil spiritual plant that poses a threat to the well-ordered religious structures, pyres built for martyrs and long-dead saviors.
I have only begged for eternity once, and I was very young, with years of rocks and hard places ahead, only pink clouds behind, and eyes incapable of foresight. This boy ate apples, and drew on his arms with black pen every Sunday. Go into the church clean, bathed, come out with temorary full-sleeve tattoos. This boy was made of wonder, myth, and blind acceptance. No longer.
I have now gazed into an eternity made of open graves, lost loves, and harsh, barbed-wire truths, punctuated with sharp, jabbing exclamation points of brief pleasure that only seem to make the reality of eternity worse. I am a masochist, and even I don't want that. A body can only function for so long without sleep before the motor wears out, the radiator breaks, the gasket leaks, and the marbles flee from the growing insanity of their owner. We all need to rest eventually, and in my secret mind - the one that grimaces with sick pleasure and only shows its teeth in the lines of a poem, slightly blurred by metaphor - I long for that sleep. I am tired, but the day is only half done. But each sun sets, and we can not deny it that truth, that sensation of finality that settles upon senile eyes like a cataract, that snuggles against warm, pink lungs in all its black, tar-like splendor.
Truth, like so many other things in this solar system, only takes shape when under the eye of a microscope, with a passive viewer sewn to the end of it, with the sole intention of passing judgement before shouting "NEXT," and repeating the process untill they either run out of things to judge (blame, think, guilt-trip) or die.
So, smoke, smoke, smoke that cigarette. Puff, puff, puff it and let us hope they never get to either of us, old friend.
She gets everything,
No matter what it is,
She gets
Whatever, Whoever,Whenever,
It’s not fair to the people,
The people that actually have to work,
Work toward what they want,
Work toward what they need in life,
Then there’s always,
That one person that comes along,
Not even moving a finger,
But she takes it all,
I wish I could be like her,
But no,
She’s too pretty without
Even trying,
She’s a bitch but,
No one cares,
She has the perfect body,
And eats what she wants,
Tell me,
How do I become her?
I took a paper and a pen and sat down to write
A plan on how I was going to make a time machine--
Because I had to, I had to go back in time and change your mind--
But I flew past papers and entire diaries and I know there is no more ink
Left in this world to continue writing
Yet, I still have no more than a mite of sense in a huge mathematical mess
Of fractions, functions and graphs, and sad handwriting
I put together my math with metal and I scoured the earth looking for the
Exact things to perfect my monster creation and satisfy the algorithms--
Time was not going anywhere and you are awaiting my perfect words that I actually tell you
And stop you from taking the step outside the door--
I spent years to just put together the courage to finally plug the machine
Into the socket-- a humble four-point in the wall and all it took was the turn of a switch
I spent years and all my time and all my youth
All my mind and all my life creating a time machine
So that I fly by the light, going back into the time to that very day
When I first saw you and take a the seat in the corner of the class
Instead of the one next to you
I would take the one opposite to where you sat and refuse to even look at you
Because then, we will not begin something we would never be able to end
I am here now and all it takes is the turn of a switch,
A time machine to end all of the worries
A turn of a switch and I would be able to fix all my life
I created this thing with all my life, so that I can forget you
And glory! am I successful
I forget you, but not by the power of a time machine
But I do forget you
I set my room on fire and jump out of the window
Origins
written and directed
by
David Walker
Inspired
by
the films of
Quentin Tarantino
David Lynch
&
Rob Zombie
There is method
To his madness
January 2013
first draft
1. EXT. Run down project apartment complex - 3:00 am
A dark, tall figure with long black hair and a trenchcoat opens the already cracked red door.
MAN:
I'm looking for love in all the wrong places.
CUT TO:
INT. Apartment 3
A typical roach infested apartment with a kitchen built into the living room. 3 GIRLS are on the kitchen floor. GIRL # 1 one has black hair with big lips and a curvy frame and she is wearing a pair of Tripp pants and a black bra barely covering her ample bosom. She has a flesh colored rubber hose tied to her left arm. GIRL # 2 has dyed rainbow colored hair, a nice smile, and a skinny frame. She is wearing a pair of tore blue jeans with smiley faces and cute in jokes written on them, also not wearing a shirt with a lacy blue bra on. She has a spoon with water and black tar heroin inside it which she is heating up with a silver Zippo with the word "Skittles" engraved into it. GIRL # 3 Has long naturally red hair, glasses and an extremely voluptuous figure. She is wearing tight black pants and a black shirt with thin sleeves. She is inspecting a covered syringe with an unsure look in her eyes.
GIRL # 2:
So, do you wanna do it or not Jane?
Snatches the syringe out of JANE's hand.
JANE:
I'm not sure. How long have you been doing this shit?
Girl #2 takes the orange cap off the syringe revealing a small needle.
GIRL #2:
Since after I graduated. About 3 years. Liz you ready?
LIZ:
As ready as I am for dat sweet tang!
Girl #2 giggles. She sticks the needle into Liz's arm, blood mixes with the brown fluid inside, and she pushes the plunger down. Liz leans back into Girl #2's arms and Girl #2 gives her a kiss.
LIZ:
I love you, Julia.
JULIA:
Well, I love you too.
JANE:
You guys are so gay!
(OS):
Save that shit for the fucking customers!
CUT TO:
Other side of room. A greasy looking MAN with short faded black hair and a scar going from the corner of his mouth to the right ear is sitting in a beat up recliner cleaning his Uberti 1873 Cattleman revolver while smoking a fat blunt and watching some kind of high budget porn with Sasha Grey in it.
JULIA:
Sorry, Mike. It didn't stop you from leaving me and Liz unsatisfied and bored, did it?
LIZ and JULIA laugh. JANE has a nervous look in her eyes.
MIKE:
Very fucking funny you wore out trick! Am I gonna have to smack the sass out yo mouth?
MIKE gets up, puts out his blunt and walks over to the GIRLS gun in hand.
MIKE:
Or am I gonna have to give your little friend a scar like mine.
LIZ:
Mike don't!
MIKE SLAPS JULIA with the side of his UNLOADED revolver and grabs JANE by her hair.
MIKE:
Who the fuck are you, anyways bitch?
JANE:
(stuttering)
I was walking down the street earlier today and I ran into Julia and Liz. They went to school with my sister I think. Let me go!
MIKE:
So you're a young'n. Well you have some nice big titties!
MIKE RIPS off her shirt exposing her breasts. He begins to squeeze the right one. JANE SLAPS MIKE HARD!
MIKE:
Bitch!
MIKE lets go of her hair. Jane runs to the other room grabbing her shirt. LIZ stumbles towards him and PUNCHES him in the nose.
MIKE:
That's it! You little cum dumpsters are dead!
MIKE picks up the REVOLVER, runs to the chair where the bullets are and tries to reload. JULIA wakes from her daze. We see him load 3 rounds. All of a sudden the DOOR gets broken down and the dark clad FIGURE from the scene before pulls out a BERETTA M9 with a silencer attachment. MIKE FIRES 2 shots at him haphazardly missing both. The MAN LAUGHS and FIRES one shot that MIKE's crotch catches.
CUT TO:
2. INT. Next door in Apartment 2.
A MAN and WOMAN in their early 40's are smoking a joint and seem disturbed by the gunfire.
MAN:
(coughing)
What the hell was that?
WOMAN:
Sounded like gunshots. Do you think we should call the cops?
MAN:
Fuck no! There is a pound of chronic in the bedroom closet! Just pray whoever it is doesn't come over here!
WOMAN:
Okay. Are you gonna pass that?
CUT TO:
3. INT. Apartment 3.
The smoke has cleared. MIKE is begging for death and BLEEDING out everywhere, JULIA is in a daze, dumbfounded by what she just witnessed, LIZ is cowering in fear, crying, and JANE just came out of the bedroom with her TORN SHIRT on and a terrified "Oh my God" expression. The unknown assailant has a devilish grin upon his face.
MIKE:
Godfuck! Kill me you sunuvabitch! Godda--
The MAN obliges. He fires a single shot into his RIGHT EYE.
MAN:
Well, looks like I got here in the nick of time!
JULIA:
(blankly)
W-Who the fuck are you?
MAN:
That is of little importance right now. Who are you foxy ladies?
JULIA:
M-My name's Julia. That girl over there (points to Liz) is Liz, and the ginger is Jane.
MAN:
What pretty names! Well, I have a question. Will you three lovely young ladies gather round that despicable looking chair and listen to what I have to say, or are you going to run? Keep in mind I have rope in my trenchcoat and the fact I mean you no harm. I am just a lonely man with a story to tell, and the way I see it, what with that bruise on your sweet face, you kinda owe me.
JULIA:
I think we can stay. I just wanna know your name.
MAN:
Ahh, but I am a man of many names. My christian name is Derek. You don't need the last for now.
DEREK walks to the chair and sits down. He waves the GIRLS over.
DEREK:
C'mon I just want to tell my tale. Look, I will put the gun under the chair as a sign of good faith that neither you girls or I will start shooting the place up again. Are we square ladies?
JULIA:
What do ya say guys?
They gather in the kitchen.
LIZ:
This guy has a screw loose.
JULIA:
Yes, but he saved us from our pimp. We should humor him.
JANE:
I think he is hot!
LIZ and JULIA just stare at JANE.
JANE:
Sorry, but he is.
JULIA:
So it's agreed. We will listen to his story, silently pray he doesn't rape us and leave afterwards.
The GIRLS walk to the chair. DEREK has lit the blunt.
DEREK:
Ahh, so you have decided to join me. Good. Do you guys wanna hit this?
LIZ and JULIA shake their heads no.
JANE:
I will.
DEREK:
Great. Now, where do I begin. I suppose everybody's roots stem from childhood, so lets go back, oh say, 20 years ago.
FADE TO BLACK
Against black, TITLE CARD
October 15th 1995.
CUT TO
4. EXT. Suburbia circa 1995.
There are three boys between the ages of 6 and 9 playing in front of a grey HOUSE with a white MINIVAN in the driveway. Little DEREK is a scrawny 6 year old boy with short brown hair and a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles action figure in his hands. The 2 other BOYS ages 7 and 9 are picking on him and trying to take away DONATELLO.
DEREK:
Leave me alone or I will whoop your butt.
BOY #1:
Whatever! You are scrawny and lame. Give us your Ninja Turtle now or we will beat you up!
BOY #2 picks up a STICK and starts hitting DEREK with it.
BOY #2:
What are you going to do? Get your daddy? Oh, wait...that's right, you don't have one!
The 2 BULLIES start laughing. A look of hatred fills young DEREK's eyes. He catches the STICK and slaps BOY #2 in the face with it. He then tackles him and starts beating him mercilessly. BOY #1 runs towards the PORCH and knocks on the DOOR. DEREK'S MOM answers. She is in her mid 30's with brown hair and casual clothing on, smoking a cigarette and drinking a cup of "coffee."
BOY #2:
Derek's beating up Josh again!
DEREK'S MOM:
Well, good for him! Bet that little pecker snot deserved it too. Now, Brad...why don't you take you and your friend on home before I tell your dad you play with Barbies.
LATE 20'S DEREK:
(OS)
My mother was a sweet ol' broad!
BRAD:
(sighs)
Okay, Ms. Walters, but you do know you are going to have to pull him offa Josh right?
DEREK'S MOM:
(sighs like Brad)
I suppose.
DEREK'S MOM and BRAD walk to the front yard and GASP when they notice that DEREK has knocked out 2 of JOSH'S baby teeth, both in the front and broke his nose, which is bleeding profusely.
DEREK'S MOM:
Derek Charles Walters! Get the fuck up offa him!
DEREK:
(crying)
He hit me with a stick!
DEREK'S MOM:
Well, now I'm about to!
She picks up the STICK and beats his ass with it several times.
DEREK:
Fuck you bitch!
DEREK'S MOM, infuriated throws the stick down and SLAPS him across the face. DEREK runs away.
He runs to a wooded area in the back yard as far as his legs can take him.
LATE 20'S DEREK:
(OS)
Do not weep, for on that day, I met God and Satan incarnate and it turns out they existed singularly in my head.
CUT TO:
5. JANE:
Like a conscience?
DEREK:
Much more. These guys are in the room right now and only I can see him. Satan led me to you guys tonight! Who knows what kind of CRAZY hijinks are in store!
JULIA:
That's it I'm outta here! C'mon gu--
DEREK fires of his M9 1 time.
DEREK:
Now, listen to me you dykey, junkie whore. I have 3 more rounds in this motherfucker and one
of them is reserved for you if you don't sit your tight ass back down.
JULIA sits back down scared to death. DEREK regains his composure and is "all smiles" again.
DEREK:
Phew! I don't want to hurt anybody. I just want someone pretty to listen to my fucking story. Fuck, if you want, I will ask you guys about yourself later on, but for now I'm going to introduce you to my best friends.
JANE:
Who are they again?
DEREK:
Ah, you were trying to pay attention. I will remember that. They go by many names. One can be called "God", "Heroic Harry", "The White Knight", whatever you envision as good, this mofo is it. He is the reason you guys are still alive.
LIZ:
And the other?
DEREK:
Ahh, him. He can go by "Satan", "The Rapist", "The Angel of Death." He's the reason ol' crusty here no longer bothers you.
LIZ:
So you're basically ape shit, right?
DEREK:
Pretty much! Now where was I? Ah...yes
CUT TO:
6. INT. Small wooded area behind the house --- Early evening.
DEREK has made himself a nice little HANGOUT in the woods! there is a trunk with tons of comics in it, an arsenal of sharpened sticks and rocks, Batman action figures, and a Game Boy Color. He is drawing a picture at the moment.
LATE 20'S DEREK:
(OS)
There I was in my element. Pissed at my mother, then all of a sudden, a deep, angelic voice rang out.
VOICE #1:
(OS...of course)
You don't have to hate her, you know. She loves you.
LATE 20'S DEREK:
(OS)
And then another, this voice sounding more playful and mischievous then the other.
VOICE #2:
(OS)
But, for how long? Do you think she meant to have you?
DEREK:
Where are you guys?
LATE 20'S DEREK:
(OS)
And then they appeared.
A 13 YEAR OLD BOY with BROWN hair and a FLANNEL overshirt over a Nirvana T-SHIRT with baggy torn blue JEANS with stains on them appears.
BOY #1:
Don't hate your mom.
VOICE #2:
(OS)
But, watch her close.
DEREK turns his head. We see another BOY roughly the same age with slightly long BLACK hair and a TRENCHCOAT over a Nine Inch Nails T-SHIRT with tight black CHICK PANTS with a CHAIN leading from his pocket to his BELT. He has a lip piercing and he is smoking a cigarette.
DEREK:
Who are you guys?
BOY #1:
Just think of us as older brothers your mom can't see.
DEREK:
Wow! I should introduce you guys to my friends!
BOY #2:
No!
DEREK:
Why not?
BOY #2:
You are the only person that can see us. Don't go telling anyone and don't talk to us in front of anyone. People will think you are nuts!
BOY #1:
Think of us as two ghosts that give you advice. Don't listen to him though, he'll get you in trouble.
BOY #2:
Shut up! Or I will kick your ass again.
BOY #1:
Not in front of him. He doesn't need to see that shit. Not now
DEREK:
What are your names?
BOY #1:
That's up to you.
DEREK:
I'll call you Joe, and him Jerry.
JOE:
Works for me, for now. Call us whatever you feel like calling us whenever you like. If you wanna call me butthole and him poophead, go right ahead.
DEREK:
Okay, but for now you guys are Joe and Jerry.
JOE:
We are going to leave now. We will show up when we think the time is right. Sometimes you will see us others you won't, but we are always with you.
JERRY:
Even when you poop.
CUT TO:
7. INT. Apartment 3.
LATE 20'S DEREK:
And then I went back home and they disappeared. I reconciled with my mom and for the next few weeks I didn't see them. Brad started hanging out with me again and school was good. The years go by and still no sight of them. 4 years pass by. It's 1999 and my tastes changed. Instead of Ninja Turtles and Batman it was KISS and Freddy Krueger. By this point me and Josh had made up and Brad was in middle school. And so we go to where me and the voices meet again.
8. INT. Taft Elementary
A class of roughly 25 children in your average 5th grade home room with a stout middle aged gentleman teaching. JOSH and DEREK are in the back row sitting side by side.
TEACHER:
...And that's how the metric system works.
JOSH:
(to Derek)
Dude, did you check out RAW last night? The Undertaker crucified Stone Cold!
DEREK:
Fuck I missed it. I was doing homework.
JOSH:
(loud)
Shit!!
TEACHER:
What did you say Mr. Jarvis?
JOSH:
Sorry Mr. Cannib. I forgot to do my homework.
MR. CANNIB:
Josh, Derek, outside!
LATE 20'S DEREK:
(OS)
The old man had taken kids out of the classroom before and they always came back with tears in their eyes. As we walked outside I heard a familiar voice.
JERRY:
(OS)
If he touches either of you, kick him in the nuts!
MR. CANNIB:
I told you boys too many times! None of this shit in my classroom! Josh get over here you little prick!
OL' TEACH GRABS JOSH by the NECK.
DEREK:
Hey motherfucker keep your hands to yourself!
CANNIB begins to throttle JOSH. DEREK pushes him off of JOSH and KICKS the TEACHER in the nuts with FURY about 3 times and jumps on top of him while JOSH watches holding his neck.
JERRY:
(OS) While we see Derek's mouth moving
Look here, mother fucker. You think you can be called a teacher for drinking on a farm, fucking cattle and beating children so you can have Summer vacation every year? Fuck you, you spiteful sad man.
DEREK SPITS in the BASTARD'S face and begins to PUNCH him when JOSH pulls him off.
JOSH:
Dude, the door outta here is right there. Lets go to our lockers, get our shit and get outta here.
DEREK:
(Breathing heavily)
Did I just do that? What the fuck? Let's get out of here...now!
CUT TO:
9. EXT. Taft Elementary
A bunch of playground equipment next to an alley with a fenced in field. JOSH and DEREK are walking down the alley. It is sunny outside but about to rain.
DEREK:
That wasn't me that did that.
JOSH:
If it wasn't you who was it?
DEREK:
It w...
JOSH:
(Interrupting)
It really doesn't matter who it was. You got us out of school forever man.
DEREK:
You think so?
JOSH:
We are getting paid, yo.
CUT TO
10. INT. Chillipaqua City Courthouse
The JUDGE bangs his gavel. JOSH and DEREK are seen smiling and pointing at CANNIB while he is on the stand while LATE 20'S DEREK narrates.
LATE 20'S DEREK:
(OS)
And so we did. That incident pulled the liberal media's heartstrings. My mother may have been a bitch, but she was a crafty bitch. We settled in court on a 100,000 dollar payment to both mine and Josh's families.And the fucker of this whole situation was fired and arrested the next week for bestiality and had quite the collection of kiddie porn in his closet!
CUT TO:
11.EXT. A small farm on the edge of town.
MR. CANNIB is pantsless with a goat. We see the cherries and berries come blazing by. Cut to him crying as he is being handcuffed.
CUT TO:
12.INT. Apt 3.
DEREK:
So you guys aren't goat fuckers are you? After all you seem pretty wild.
JULIA:
No.
JANE:
Hell no.
LIZ:
One time I was wearing a skirt and it was a very hot day, and my dog Rufflestiltskin licked my snatch.
JANE, JULIA AND DEREK look on in disgust.
LIZ:
What? I told him to stop.
DEREK:
That's just nasty. Another question and then on to the story again. How old are you girls? This Jane girl looks awfully young.
LIZ:
Me and Julia are 21. I think Jane is 18.
DEREK:
Ahh. Well that's good. The feeling I'm having in my pants looking at you 3 is "okay" then I guess.
JANE:
You make me moist.
LIZ and JULIA look on in TERROR. JANE puts her hand on DEREK'S crotch. DEREK slaps it away.
DEREK:
Hey now! Not right yet you little fucking minx. I have a story to continue.
JANE:
(Disappointed)
Fine.
DEREK:
And so the years pass and our young hero, (ha, me) had grown older and the voices just wouldn't stop after his little incident with his pal the goat fucker. As he grew the voices grew with him. Derek started to become depressed and jaded with the world. He had gotten taller, a bit chubbier, and more handsome. And he had fallen in love. Problem is she was John's girlfriend...and so we find young bespectacled Derek: awkward teenager.
13. INT. Derek's room.
The room is a bit messy. There is an XBOX underneath a small SONY TV. A Micheal Myers poster hangs above his bed. There are blue curtains covering his window. His closet is open and there is a projector and several 35 mm films in there. There is a boom box with a Weezer CD case lying next to it. The Blue album. Derek is on his PC while Only in Dreams is playing in the background. On his computer there are pictures of vile death and pornography. And all of a sudden there is a knock on his door.
DEREK'S MOM:
Boy, you better not be a whacking it!
DEREK:
Goddammit, mom! I will whack it if I feel like it!
DEREK'S MOM:
Well you better put that thing away if you are because there is a girl here to see you! Some girl named Cherise...isn't that Josh's girlfriend?
DEREK:
Oh, fuck! Um...send her in!
CHERISE walks in. She is around 2 years younger than DEREK, very tall as far as girls go, with long blonde hair, skinny yet she has a donk on her. She wears glasses and has braces. Kinda nerdy looking. DEREK has a nervous expression on his face.
CHERISE:
Hi Derek!
DEREK:
Um, hi. What are you doing here.
CHERISE:
Well, 2 reasons. First one is, could I borrow your Bleach CD? That's the only Nirvana album I haven't heard. If I were 20 years older I would have married Kurt instead of that Courtney Love bitch!
DEREK:
I totally understand. Um, yeah it's in my closet underneath my reel of Eraserhead. Let me get it for you.
DEREK walks to his closet and starts rummaging through his shit.
CHERISE:
Second reason is...well, um I'm trying to break up with Josh...
DEREK drops his projector on his foot.
DEREK:
Ow, fuck!
CHERISE:
and I don't know how to go about it. Do you have any ideas?
DEREK seems flustered.
DEREK:
Why...I mean you guys make a great couple.
CHERISE:
But, he is always angry at me if I don't see things his way.
DEREK:
I don't know why he would ever get mad at you. You are so great.
CHERISE:
Well, I did cheat on him with Eric.
DEREK:
That fat fuck?!
DEREK looks disgusted.
CHERISE:
It's like he knows how to respect a woman. Like you...but I could never be with you. You are...too...good.
DEREK:
Good? Like how?
CHERISE:
Like...I don't want to be the one to...ya know...take IT. You need a sweet girl to do that.
DEREK:
But, you are the sweetest girl I know!
Tears well up in DEREK'S eyes. JERRY appears.
Jerry:
Tell her to leave.
DEREK:
I think you should leave.
CHERISE:
I'm sorr--
DEREK:
Leave!
CHERISE looks pissed.
CHERISE:
Fine then you fat loser!
CHERISE leaves. DEREK runs out the door.
DEREK:
Keep fucking drug addicts and losers, ya fucking cunt! Who was the last one? The creepy 30 year old? Keep spreading your legs and you will end up with a little fucker and a man in prison! You're 14 act like it!
DEREK sits down at the desk with anger in his eyes. He reaches in one of the drawers. We see in the drawer there is lotion, paper towels and loosely rolled joints. He pulls out the lotion. DEREK gets on www.stileproject.com and clicks on the most recent link, the Pamela Anderson sex tape which despite being made public nearly a decade ago has finally been linked to Stile Project. DEREK pulls down his pants and starts jerking his wang.
DEREK:
You fucking cunt! You will be mine one day!
We cut to behind DEREK and JERRY is controlling DEREK'S arm.
JERRY:
You see what Tommy Lee is doing with his dick? You will be doing that to Cherise soon enough. Wait...you will convince her. She wants that dick. She just doesn't know it yet.
DEREK cums and takes his shirt and wraps it over his dick to wipe up. What he doesn't get with his shirt he LICKS off of his hand. JERRY looks upon the sad sight that is DEREK licking up his semen.
JERRY:
We will bring her to you. Me and Joe.
CUT TO:
14. Maple Orchard.
DEREK walks down the street to JOSH'S house. JOSH'S house is basically a carbon copy of DEREK'S. There is a green LINCOLN parked in the driveway. DEREK knocks on the window.
JOSH:
Dude, what the fuck? Why the fuck are you waking me up?
DEREK:
It's 4:00 pm, mothafucka! Wake your fat, white ass up and smoke a blunt! I got money lets run out of town to the White Castle!
JOSH:
Fuck, man...give me a few to wake up. My mom will let you in. My Jew dad is at work right now so you're cool.
DEREK walks in.
JOSH'S mom opens the door.
JOSH'S MOM:
Ahh, Derek. Your little middle school friends not aloud to hang out?
DEREK:
Just let me in Melanie.
CUT TO:
15. INT. Josh's house.
DEREK sits down in the house which has an enormous living room and a really big T.V. in it in front of a neatly kept couch.
DEREK:
Hurry the fuck up in there Josh! It doesn't take that long to shit and get changed. I'm starving! Mom hasn't had food in the fridge for a week!
MELANIE:
Why can't your mom afford food for you? You guys have thousands of dollars! How come you can't have food?
DEREK:
Melanie, dear...mother of my best of friends. My mom is a dirty cunt!
MELANIE:
I knew there was a reason I didn't like her.
JOSH comes out of the bathroom.
JOSH:
Fuck, lets go man. I have the new Outkast CD in the stereo. Andre 3000 is a fucking madman!
CUT TO:
16. INT. Josh's Lincoln.
Leather seats, faux wood paneling, a Pioneer CD player, and a little rubber fetus hanging from the rear view mirror. The car cigarette lighter is being used to light a blunt and "Roses" is playing in the background.
JOSH:
Did you watch Chappelle's Show last night?
DEREK:
No man, I'm glued to my computer. Maybe one day when I can watch Comedy Central on my computer I will watch it.
JOSH:
(In a high pitched voice)
A re re visited my work today!
DEREK:
(Laughing maniacally while coughing.)
Oh, really?
JOSH:
(In normal voice)
And not just ANY retard...the king retard!
DEREK:
(gasps)
You are fucking with me. Was...Corky at Olive Garden?
JOSH:
(In high pitched voice again)
Yes!
DEREK:
You are fucking with me.
JOSH:
Seriously dude.
DEREK drops the blunt.
DEREK:
Oh shit!
JOSH slaps DEREK in the back of his head until he picks it up.
JOSH:
Pick it up, brown eye!
DEREK:
Now fuck off, with that shit! I got it.
JOSH:
Give it to me, then.
JOE:
(OS)
Let it slide. Enjoy the marijuana and keep your eyes on the road.
DEREK hits the blunt super hard until he starts coughing up spit on himself. JOSH yanks it out of his hand.
JOSH:
You also need to quit making this thing run with your strong ass lungs.
DEREK:
(Coughing still)
What about Corky?
JOSH:
(Laughs hysterically)
Oh, so you want to hear about mirth and merriment Corky gave me? Well allow me to elaborate.
JOSH hits the blunt 3 times and passes it.
JOSH:
(Exhales followed by a tiny cough.)
Well ol' Corky was sitting at a table that I had to serve. My buddy Jeff was serving a table behind him filled with Hasidic Jews. Like you know how there is Eugene Levy and just slightly higher than that there is my Jewy dad? Well these guys were probably 10 times higher on the Jewometer. Like rabbi's or something. Real Jews, my nig. Well I come up to the table where our favorite retard, Corky is sitting and Corky says to his "handlers" (in full blown tard voice) "Gee, those guys have curly hair...and cool frisbee's on their heads"
DEREK fucking loses it!
JOSH:
You gonna pass that?
DEREK passes the blunt laughing like the deranged bastard he is.
JOSH:
Well, the poor tard said it really loud. So his "handlers" do their best job of telling him a brief history of Judaism while I am taking the orders. As I walk away I hear them mutter something about Haunakah. I go and place the order, by the time I get back with their food, they have finally gotten to the holocaust. Now, I think all he heard, like myself was the beginning and end of the whole conversation. So Corky sees me coming back with his fettucine alfredo gets really happy and breaks into song. Do you want to hear it.
DEREK:
More than I want those jalapeno sliders.
JOSH:
(In the best tard voice ever)
HAUNAKAH HOLOCAUST 8 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS THAT'S RELLY COOL DER'S THE JEW GUYS WIT DER JEW CURLS BUT WATCH OUT FOR DA HITLER HES A BAD BAD MAN HES GONNA GETCHYA WITH HIS EVIL SWASTIKA! HAUNAKAH HOLOCAUST
And he just kept on repeating it over and over. The Jews got pissed and didn't tip Jeff. I distinctly heard one of them saying something about a wood shed and someone beating him way too hard.
DEREK is laughing himself to tears and out of breath.
DEREK:
This couldn't have happened.
JOSH:
That's because it didn't! Ha ha ha!
JOSH pulls up to WHITE CASTLE.
JOSH:
So do we agree on a sack o six each?
DEREK:
Yeah, and a Hawaiian Punch...biggest cup they have.
JOSH:
Yeah that sounds good.
JOSH pulls up to the speaker.
JOSH:
2 jalapeno sacks o 6 and 2 extremely large Hawaiian Punch's.
SPEAKER:
(female voice)
Anything else?
DEREK:
Your number!
JOSH punches DEREK in the arm.
DEREK:
Fuckin' cocksmith!
SPEAKER:
Excuse me?
JOSH:
Don't mind him. He's a virgin.
DEREK has rage in his eyes. He PUNCHES JOSH in his nads.
JOSH:
Wait until we get out of the car, motherfucker.
JOSH pulls up to the window. They see a raven haired goddess with black horn rimmed glasses taking orders.
BANGIN' WHITE CASTLE EMPLOYEE:
That will be 10.99.
DEREK is stunned.
DEREK:
(whispering)
Oh, no...you are fucked when we get out of this car.
They get their sacks o 6 and start eating them on the way home.
CUT TO:
17. INT. Josh's Lincoln/Ext. Josh's driveway.
JOSH:
Lets get out of the car.
DEREK:
One minute...
DEREK pulls out a peach WHITE OWL and half a sack that roughly took 20 dollars and persuasion to obtain.
DEREK:
We need to talk.
JOSH eases his way back into the car.
JOSH:
About what?
DEREK:
Cherise.
JOSH:
Goddammit, what now Derek? Is it still the ol' I saw her first routine? Or do you still think she's in love with you?
DEREK looks hurt, but shrugs it off.
DEREK:
No...sit down and roll this blunt.
DEREK hands JOSH the weed and SHELL.
DEREK:
Now, Josh. Listen to me...Cherise is a fickle bitch. She is also a slut...A 13 year old slut. You are going to be a senior next year...I am going to let you roll the blunt and light it before I tell you. So in the meantime...
DEREK reaches for a CD in the visor sleeve. He pulls out WEEZER'S "Green Album" and plays "Hash Pipe."
DEREK:
(to the tune of the song)
Get that blunt rolled, get that blunt rolled, get that blunt rolled. I can understand why you look so pissed. You know somethings wrong, that somethings amiss. I know that you don't care, but I want you to know, that your girl Cherise is kind of a ho! Oh...come on and roll that...oh...come on and roll that. Oh...this bitch is a problem, she rubs it at night. Oh...you roll that blunt so...we need no hash pipe. DUNDUNDUNDUNDUNDUNDUN
JOSH:
Shut the fuck up, here!
JOSH lights it and passes it to DEREK. DEREK hits it.
DEREK:
So, ol braceface was talking to me. She told me she was thinking about dumping you...something about he doesn't treat me right...he gets angry when things don't go his way.
JOSH looks angry.
JOSH:
And I'm supposed to believe you?
DEREK:
You're a big boy, you can decide for yourself. She's gonna leave you man.
JOSH PUNCHES DEREK in the FACE!
JOSH:
I don't fucking believe you, you son of a bitch!
JERRY:
(OS)
NOW!
DEREK gets out of the car.
DEREK:
C'mon old friend, don't let some stank ass pussy get between us. Now why don't you come on out of the car and give me a hug?
JOSH LEAPS out of the car. He tackles the shit out of DEREK.
DEREK:
Now that's more like it!
DEREK knees JOSH in the BALLS HARD!
JOSH:
(winded)
I will kill you!
DEREK:
Maybe you should give her a call. I'm going home.
DEREK turns around and starts walking. JOSH RUNS at him and hits him in the back of the head.
DEREK:
Now, goddammit man that hurt! Chill the fuck out, man. Bros 'fore hoes!
DEREK has a devious smile on his face.
DEREK:
You should think really fucking hard about what you said about killing me today. I have a screw loose motherfucker! Now, if you want to fight, there are better places. We need to go somewhere else with this. An unbiased environment. I tell you what, we can have a fight at the ballpark in Yolentangee park tomorrow if you are still butthurt.
JOSH calms a bit.
JOSH:
Then it's settled. We will fight tomorrow in the ballpark.
DEREK:
Fine then. I am going home now. Maybe you can chill te fuck out tomorrow so you won't be so easy to whoop.
DEREK turns around and goes home. JOSH is yelling obscenities while crying at the same time.
CUT TO:
18. INT Derek's room.
DEREK is at the computer having freshly gotten his nut watching BANGBROS for 2 hours. We see him pulling up his pants. He looks in the drawer at his desk and pulls out a knife. 2 figures appear. One is dressed head to toe in black with a lip piercing and long black hair. The other has shaggy brown hair and a beard with khakis on and a tie dye t shirt. We recognize them as JOE and JERRY.
JOE:
Put it away.
JERRY:
You need that knife. Do you think he won't put up a fight?
JOE:
Put it away!!
DEREK slices his wrist. Blood comes shimmering down his fore arm. He runs into his mothers bedroom and blacks out. This is all shown from DEREK'S P.O.V.
19. Hospital room.
As his eyes open he is in a hospital bed. There are nurses asking him questions he doesn't understand. He sees the needle in his arm and rips it out. He lunges at one of the nurses.
DEREK:
(Screaming)
Wanna taste!!!???? I wanna taste of you! Lemme see dat ass!
OLDER DEREK:
(OS)
I had decided to ignore these thoughts, but the thought of having these thoughts didn't have me thinking clearly!
20. INT. Apt. 3
JULIA and LIZ are frightened. JANE has her cell phone out. DEREK leans over JANE.
DEREK:
What are you doing?
JANE:
Why, telling everyone on facebook how ----
DEREK grabs her cell phone and THROWS it through the WINDOW.
DEREK:
Now listen here, bitch. No one needs to know of me or the predicament you three are in. If I see any of you texting or using your phones then you will be shot. Consider this your only warning.
JANE actually looks terrified for once and hangs her head in disappointment like she is sad she disappointed DEREK.
DEREK:
Now where was I? Ah, yes. My stay in the looney bin as a spry, yet unwilling teen.
LIZ:
Wait...what happened with Josh?
DEREK:
All in due time, my stoned and buxom friend.
21. INT. The Looney Bin.
There are pastel colored walls and a room full of stumbling wrecks. Teenage boys and girls on Ritalin and Valium. There is a tv in the middle of the room and magazines and colored pencils strewn about. One boy catches the cameras eye.
OLDER DEREK:
(OS)
I met this fellow named Trevor in there, he was a half white, half dark boy with a bushy fro. Couldn't have been much younger than I. I struck up a friendship with him. He is very quiet and says crazy shit when he does speak.
16 year old DEREK:
If you give me your meds I will give you mine.
JERRY:
Have fun.
22. GROUP TIME AT THE LOONEY BIN!
All the schizoid wrecks of human beings converse about how hard their lives have been, all the while Trevor has a strange look in his eyes.
COUNSELOR:
So what makes you happy, Trevor?
TREVOR:
Rape and violence.
COUNSELOR:
(Raises eyebrow)
What was that?
TREVOR:
(Rather quietly)
Peace and silence.
COUNSELOR:
(sarcastically)
Oh, really?
TREVOR:
You must have misread me.
COUNSELFUCK writes on his notepad.
23. Same Looney Bin Place Different Looney Bin Time.
INT. DEREK and TREVOR'S room
DEREK is sleeping.
TREVOR is trying to pick the lock of the window with a paperclip and a plastic knife.
DEREK awakens.
DEREK:
I've been up for 3 days, and I (yelling) FINALLY GOT THE FUCK TO SLEEP! what THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?
TREVOR:
I'm trying to get the fuck out of here!
DEREK:
Dude! Why? It's fucking awesome here! There is a sterile living environment, hot milfy nurses, television, 3 squares and a snack, plus you fucking know you aren't the craziest mofo in here! Everyone in here is either whoring or shooting smack! There is no such thing as a "troubled teen" anymore. That shit died in the 90's when they realized it was all the trip drugs their mothers did when they were pregnant. This is a new generation sir! It's 2005! You have at least 5 years to go before life is shitty for you, don't speed it up.
TREVOR:
They know I'm not taking my meds.
DEREK:
Well fuck, lets just switch back our meds! I don't need to speed like this, the voices won't fucking stop!
TREVOR:
Okay, maybe we will get out of here sooner and I will stop acting like a sociopath.
DEREK:
That's the ticket, m'boy!
24. On the outside.
DEREK:
You got a cigarette?
TREVOR:
No. I don't smoke.
DEREK:
Well, fuck! What good are you then?
DEREK pulls out a HEATER cigarette. They heat your throat with a 100% tobacco aroma. He lights it.
DEREK:
You know what? I could use a guy like you in my corner when the voices start acting up again.
TREVOR:
What do you mean?
DEREK:
(Takes a long drag off his Heater)
You could tell me what not to do. Keep me cool. Jerry is a swift bastard, he is!
TREVOR:
Who the fuck is Jerry?
DEREK:
In due time you will find out. Jerry likes you though. Joe likes you too. They never agree on anything, which means you are cool. Just keep your head when things go awry.
TREVOR:
What the fuck are you on?
DEREK:
(flicks his cigarette)
Life and everything in it!
DEREK's car pulls up. It's JOSH in his Lincoln.
JOSH:
Dammit fuck brain, you were right!
DEREK:
I fucking told you!
DEREK acknowledges TREVOR.
DEREK:
This is my childhood pal Josh.
TREVOR:
Hey.
JOSH:
What kind of crazy are you?
TREVOR:
Not his kind, I assure you.
DEREK gets in the car.
DEREK:
I will see you around, man. I got work to do!
JOSH speeds out of the parking lot.
CUT TO:
25. INT. APT. 3
JULIA:
So that's it? That's how you guys made up?
DEREK:
Well, I did make a phone call to him the previous day.
CUT TO:
26, Nuthouse the day before
DEREK picks up the phone.
DEREK:
Hey, man. You still mad?
JOSH:
(On the phone)
Nope. You were right. Dumb cunt left me for a 20 year old.
DEREK:
Kids these days, eh? I have a situation. I am inside the institute for the criminally insane and I need you to give me a ride out of here.
JOSH:
Why are you in there for?
DEREK:
My arms. Threatening nurses. Depression.
JOSH:
Goddammit you big fucking emo! I will be there soon.
CUT TO:
27. INT. Apt. 3
by Jonathan D Maraccini
The stars in the sky reflect the witch’s eye
As she takes my soul with lies
The night grows dark and I grow weary
The bones begin to rise
Standing in a circle a cauldron of fire glows
The wind blows cold through every broken window
A soft voice whispers as the sound of crying grows
Take the stairs near the mountain
Drink from the broken fountain
Then enter the valley alone
(chorus)
Close your eyes and listen
To the painful voice inside
The truth you hide is written
Long after we all die
A liar's tongue is bitten
Inside the circle of light
Fallen without a home
The circle of bones ignite
When a broken heart ends few are blinded by what's right
Do you see the wings unfold from the struggle and the fight
Perched on the truth we hold through the pages of our life
See her evil grows as she hides the spinning knife
Dance with me she said
Dance with me through fire and ice
Take a chance with me my friend without ever thinking twice
(chorus)
Close your eyes and listen
To the painful voice inside
The truth you hide is written
Long after we all die
A liar's tongue is bitten
Inside the circle of light
Fallen without a home
The circle of bones ignite
Can life return from death
Does the heart need love to beat
Swinging with a broken neck
Until again we meet
Thank you for the love we had
The love of such regret
I took this life so serious
Then the witch cocked her head
And this is what she said
Stand in a circle of bones
As a cauldron of fire glows
Drink from a heart shaped fountain
Drink until you lose your soul
Close your eyes and listen
As the circle of bones ignite
The flicker grew bright in the witch’s eye
Then two spheres appeared in the sky
The night grows dark and we grow weary
The witch began to cry
Next thing I knew she jumped on me and pulled out a rusty knife
With this blade I take your life
Then she stabbed me once, then stabbed me twice
(chorus)
Close your eyes and listen
To the painful voice inside
The truth you hide is written
Long after we all die
A liar's tongue is bitten
Inside the circle of light
Fallen without a home
The circle of bones ignite
VAPORSiX CREATiONS
written in 2010
i think i can stand the world today
everythings keepng me from being in my grave
my friends and my family they treat me like royalty
and I'm going to do what it takes to get paid
i think i i wont mind this world today
i got knowledge but still on my face
my friends and family
act like honeybees
comtemplating if they should fly or stay
and we all return to our hive
and we all fight to stay alive
and our bodies break down like leaves on the ground
eventually we all give our final sting
i think ill contrast and compare today
reorganize a new way
my friends and my enimies, id like to think they learned from me
cuz theres only so much i can do or say
and we are surely all alive
we witness the birth and we cry when they die
and our society dumbs down
like radio sounds
inevidibly
we all become autumn leaves
1) If you change every ten minutes, that is okay. You do not have to be the same person every day in order to be real. You also do not have to continue spending time with anyone just because you are used to them. If they are not good to you, you can leave at any moment.
2) Gender is a jail cell. You do not have to wear the shackles if you do not want to. Be yourself. Do not be a slave to stereotypes, roles & limits. What you have in your pants should not make you more or less of anything you want to be.
3) Love is free and you can take as much of it as you want. The amount of sex a person has does not make them inferior or superior. No one has the right to tell you that the way you are dressed is inappropriate. You can wear anything you want to. Society's fear of the human body is fucking nonsense.
4) Do not let anyone convince you that your feelings are not acceptable. Nothing you feel is a flaw. Depression is not a weakness. Happiness is not selfish. You do not have to be moved in the same way or have the same outlook as anyone else. You are not insane for having emotions and you should not have to hide them.
5) Be kind but stick up for yourself. You have a voice for a reason. You do not need to play dead when you are being hurt or feeling offended. Speak up. It is okay to dislike what is happening around you.
6) Addiction is painful and very real. Do not let anyone make you feel guilty or unworthy of help. Do not listen to anyone who says they do not feel sorry for you. Yes, you have the power to stop it but you still deserve support and sympathy whether you caused it or not. And not all addictions are chemical...
7) Your scars do not mean you are thirsty for attention. Self-harm is a real issue. Do not question your own feelings because of what anyone tells you your motives were. You know yourself better than anyone else. If you are willing to hurt yourself, something is very wrong. Get help. You deserve recovery.
8) Just because you are an artist does not mean you cannot fix your problems. Getting better will not make your work less powerful. Pain is not the only way to create beauty. Safety is more important and security can be gorgeous, too. You can be dynamic and okay inside at the same time. Plus, your memories will always be your's to talk about and look at even when happiness is reached.
9) You do not have to follow the structure and time line of life that has been mapped out for you since day one. You do not have to graduate high school. You do not have to go to college or be in the military. You do not have to get married. You do not have to have children. You do, however, have to do whatever it takes to survive and be happy. You should do whatever the fuck feels right to you.
10) You do not have to believe in a god or be part of a church to have faith. You can believe in yourself instead. The idea of karma should not be the deciding factor in all of your decisions. You should have the capacity to reason all on your own. You do not have to believe in your government or love your country. Seeing the flaws in the fabric does not mean you do not deserve to live here. The Earth is your's. It is man who draws the borders and makes the laws and you are just as significant and worthy as the people who are in charge. Act like it.
