The new Mars Volta comes out on March 1st. Make a note of it. Hmmm....not much really to update on. Me and Sam and Ryan from down the hall experimented with plugging a guitar into a keyboard with fantastic results. Really, you could totally form a guitar into keyboard band with just two people. I'm reading the Odyssey, and so far, its a piece of shit that I just can't grasp. I've lost 5 pounds since I last checked, marking exactly 160 pounds on the dial. 160. Really makes ya think. There's this Sigur Ros song from the Life Aquatic soundtrack that everyone should hear. I'm really just proliferating a message left by the Buried. I've heard it though, and its really good. I bumped into mad peeps today, on one of the only occasions in which I left my dorm. I hate Sunday. Its my absolute least favorite day of the week. Thursday beats it to freakin' death. I just decided to write this:
'Hearts Don't Break, They Bleed'
by Tim Conley
Bound like a serpentine notecase amidst a prison shelf,
I heard the call.
Beckoning for hours to life outside,
Screams that meant nothing to no one else.
The broken heart clamoured at my approach,
Begged for freedom.
Surrounding her very presence like outer worlds in our vision,
We escaped monstrosity,
A toiled over engine employed by the most sinister of madmen.
Frightened gazes trapped the savior like nets from the eyes of clones,
But scared they could not be,
Primal in emotion they were not.
Prison break at sunset,
Victimized,
Broken heart,
Leap out and burn your pale skin once again,
Far away,
Far too long.
Never again will your sights be encapsulated,
A gray concrete wall,
Nothing else from you bound and gagged to recoil.
Yes broken heart,
I heard your screams,
And I twisted to the cacophony and rode.
Now broken heart,
Let us be,
And be without pangs of torture inside,
Dreams of doom like the invited nightmare,
A prayer for the cleansed one to stop at the hellish return.
You repel the stare broken heart,
As if the terror is burned on the matter of your eye,
But why?
The price of freedom paid and nothing but a gaze in response,
Fear,
Madness,
The only things I see left on your mind,
But why?
The redline arriveth from behind,
And on the tracks of despair we reside,
Realization a moment too late,
As I grasp the demise of my broken heart,
Bleeding on the tracks of memory.
It basically says why waste effort saving anything thats bound to die. Aren't I the most optomistic thing you ever seen? OK, goodnight.