TheFloater on Xanga

God doesn't live here.

Saturday, 14 November 2009

The Biggest Banger In the Tri State Area.

Fuck, with a name like that, I should just be the new Don King.

Uhhh.....it's only a minute later after I wrote the last one. I wish I could just write this down or have someone tape all the shit I'm thinking about instead of just fucking typing it down. And when i fuck up, it makes me lose focus, so it's like, fuck.

You know what I mean?
Of course you don't. You don't even know that you're inside reading shit like this when you should be out slaughtering people like me.
Fucking hang me to die somewhere.
That'd be fun for once. I wish I had a blunt right now though....I'd be a lot happier with a blunt in my hand while I type horror classics like these.
Because seriously. I don't know if you haven't realized, but this shit
typing to you
for your enjoyment
takes
a lot
out of my time
of watching chubby porn and trying to think of ways to become world leader.

And with a blunt, i'd be a lot happier. I mean. Just a chat with Mary with Alice in the room would be nice. I'd like to see how those two would get along. I should just chill in a dark room with myself for a while. Or just go skydiving with a knife pointing upwards at my chest, so when i fall from Hell knows how many flights that is up in the air...
how many feet are in a fucking mile?
fucking.....wait, how much?
anyway....yeah nigga if I so happen to live from falling that high up, the knife will kill me.

I have a whole bunch of nothing to say and I like that.
The 13th.

You can't make days like these.

Herro, fellow intruders of my life. I am into my 3rd or 4th hour of my night with Alice. For those of you close you me, you'll know what that means.

Fucking shit, man. I don't know where like, half of the fucking crew is. It's all way too much happening. Fucking mad bright lights. People talking in the back of me. Lights bending in and out (like how the fuck is that even possible?) and all sorts of madness. Ok ok ok ok ok ok ok ok ok ok ok ok ok so I know Glen left.....Malik went with....so i'm with J, his nigga, Remi, Shane and fucking umm... yeah that's it. I think that's about it. I wish the people behind me would just stop fucking moving around so it'll be a lot easier for me to to this fucking entry. I just see Shane jumping in the side of my eye and it's all up types of fucking up my mood.

What the fuck am I typing this for!?
Oh yeah.
So I have
som
ethi
ng
to remember in the
future.
I guess that's what most would call it. I don't really know. I want to go out....and like....fucking....just rack shit. endless amounts of shit. shit upon shit that'll make you want to shit.

How did I get this candy around my arm!? I'm surprised I remembered that. Too many people. Too many things happening at once. And of course, I know it's just my mind, but.....this shit is not metal. No bueno. There's no sex being held in Derti's champagne room right now.

Shit. I have a good.....9 more hours with Alice. Fuck. Like what, should I do? Should I just sit here and type words that'll only capture this moment, or should I just draw...draw characters that will one day, just float....to non existence... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .but that would be the whole point of clouders,wouldn't it?

Characters
floatiing
not bothering anyone or the fucking people around you or what you're forced to care for.
whatever...
just...
fucking....
being...
I guess.
And it's sad because i'm just typing and to you this'll make no sense....and in the morning this still won't make any sense.
I guess I should type something to catch me a few cases in court.

HA!

Ok next one.

Friday, 13 November 2009

The Social Terror.

Good morning.
12:33 at night.
My chest is burning and my throat hurts.
No homo.

Back in the city. I went home for a few to go drop off a few things, pick up a few clothes and come back. Nothing is really happening over here. The dudes are playing games while I type this for your entertainment. Oh uhh....I came back to the city because Pop gave us a paper to see about a job on 34th Street tomorrow. I am so fucking bored. I love how I planned out so much shit for tomorrow, too. Here's what I have planned (ro supposed to be doing) tomorrow:

1)Go to this job shit
2)Pick up Fern's kicks
3)Design Jewel's kicks

.....that's it? Only three things?
Yeah, but the time between all of those things add up and I don't really know the schedules of Fern or Jewel. I have no clue where the fuck Fern lives and Jewel lives MAAAAAADDDDDD DEEEEEEEPP in the Bronx. That reminds me that I have to start finding spots out in the Bronx.

Oh no, wait. I'm not even done yet:

4)Draw something for Capcom (yes, the people who gave us Street Fighter)
5)Somehow find Jasmin and get her sketches from her for me to color
6)Make this 2 layered stencil (which I'm not doing until I get home)

Ok. A plan has to be canceled tomorrow because I know I'm not doing to do all. The way my horoscope is sounding right now, this shit is looking pretty close to impossible. Usually, my horoscope will say "nigga, you good! You got mads energeezies!" Now this shit is like "oh nah, my dude. Energy doesn't live here anymore. Bitch named Lazie up the block got her man Procrastination to clap Energy while he was talking to Charisma."

If you have no idea what I'm talking about, then you need to take a trip to the hood.
C'mon.
Pack your bags
Get your bluntvilles
Practice saying "fuck cops"
and put on a mean face that looks like you have to shit until your bra pops.

I think I need some sleep,
NintenDerti