Unrequieted Love =\

So this song is probably The best explanation of how i felt when i broke off on my own and decided moving in with a fling was a good idea. Turns out...i was completely wrong. Robyn is a songwriter unlike any other. Love this =] Hope you do too. "Dancing on my Own"

Somebody said you got a new friend
Does he love you better than I can?
Big black sky over my town
I know where you at, I bet he's aroundYeah, I know it's stupid

I just gotta see it for myself

I'm in the corner, watching you kiss, oh.
I'm right over here, why can't you see me ?
I'm giving it my all but I'm not the boy you're taking homeI keep Dancing On My Own

I'm just gonna dance all night,
I'm all messed up, I'm so outta line
Stilettos and broken bottles,I'm spinnin' around in circles

I'm in the corner, watching you kiss, oh
I'm right over here, why can't you see me ?
I'm giving it my all but I'm not the boy you're taking home
I keep Dancing On My Own

Re-Birth

Special thanks to Aunt Kyle =]

So, Ive been on quite the hiatus from this war of art. Life throws an ungodly amount of distractions to shy us away from what we really are born to do. This past year or so has been one abhorent yet eye opening distraction. I managed to pack years worth of life lessons and achievements all in the span of twelve and a half months. Ive grown and lost so much, laughed and cried, celebrated and hurt, and ultimately lived like theres no tommorrow. And even through all of the mess I may have put myself in, Im glad. Im glad for the love and loss, the friendships and breakups, the addictions and the sobrietys. And at the end of it all, this thing most refer to as the bottom, really doesnt feel too awful. Its kind of empowering, knowing i can screw up so much and still be me. Still have those who make my world go round, and still have that drive in my heart to be the bad ass i was born to be. This re-birth might be a scary thing, but i refuse to let it go to waste. Im taking off the cruise control and gettin my ass back in the drivers seat. So first things first, blog time. Im back, and better than ever.

Repetition Poetry nucka!! =]

The Shame
By Jake Watson
[8.1.11]

The Shame across his forehead,
painted a shameful blue.
The Shame in his voice says,
"I'm a shameful fool."

The Shame runs through his sight,
with shamed looks of vexation.
The Shame keeps him up at night;
a tempestuous shameful sensation.

The Shame holds him mute,
fearing shameful demure.
The Shame chains him to
a shameful bed of torture.

The Shame, with all its' might,
tried a shameful act of treason.
The Shame attacked the life
that kept the shame a'shaming.

But what The Shame didn't see,
during its' shameful greed,
was that The Shame lost its' power
when Shameful He became free.

And Shameful He turned out from me,
and fell to a shameful demise.
And Shameful He left from me,
and The Shame became a lie.

So in the end, The Shame won't win,
or shamefully red our eyes.
Because The Shame only came,
when I let It inside.

Silent but Deadly =/

     Talk about hilarious.  Last monday, April 25th, a man was admitted to St. Joseph Mercy Hospital in Ann Arbor with a putrid spout of toxic flatulence.  The man, whose name has not been released for obvious potential embarassment issues, had apparently thought it was a good idea to eat some rat poison.  Thus, resulting in poisonous gas emitting from the isolated patients fusty bunghole. omfg. Really?  Whats the deal, man?  There's got to be a good reason to eat that shit.  Better be a good reason, that mans poor asshole is going to chemically peel itself into eighths. Thats about the time you sell your body to the local dumpster divers for a couple pills of Seroquel and sleep for eighteen days.  Hopefully by then the smoldering of the rectum has been embogged. 

Life Without

      So turns out I'm obnoxiously obsessed and intensely addicted to the boob tube.  It's an embarrassing pleasure of mine that reels me into euphoria every night.  I'm so turned on by daytime talk shows and the hilarious wednesday night of comedy on Ah Beh Ceh. I'm wondering if a call to the balding beauty Dr. Phil would do me any help.   But in recent events and unfortunate mishaps, I lost all control of my precious.  DISH Network, the bungholes they are, decided to be total bleeotches to my parents, and ol' pops wasn't havin' that.  I can still here Dad dropkicking the reciever through the outlett mall where the unlucky DISH Service Members awaited a witness of total embarrassment.  All on my part, might I add.  I was thankful though because we had a backup plan, Comcast was already hooking up the boxes at the house.  I was gonna be ok, one day of missing the soaps and losing out on hearing what Whoopie thought about Donald Trumps dumbass mouth, and hair piece.  We were to have the On Demand portion of the package deal, which turns out that the bastards up at Comcast had totally lied to my eardrum and said "oh sure you'll get errrythang on demand."  Bull effing poo.  I get NBC, CBS, and Logo.  Thats about it.  Dont get me wong, I love the gays all over NBC and Logo too, but CBS?  Really?  Thats the best you can do Comcast?  Effing CBS?  My DVR is gone, my Favs Channel Guide List is vamooshed, and I'm stuck with watching endless episodes of RuPauls Drag Race.  I'm so over stupid cable providers.  Gimme "The View" or gimme death.

Who's got gas?

So gas prices suck butt.  I barely make do with the job I have right now.  $8.50 an hour, 20 hours a week.  It's not enough.  And now with effing oil prices up my freeking gas stations are charging an arm and a leg for me to fill 'er up.  $4 a gallon is absolutely ridiculous.  I spend at least sixty bucks a week in gas, and I don't go anywhere.  I drive back and forth to work, and back and forth to school.  It's really cutting in to Jakey's happy time.  I haven't been able to afford anything, no movies, no new xbox games, no tequila.  It's awful.  And now I have to get an oil change and replace my brakes.  I'm over auto-mechanics and transportation.  Give me a goddamn pack mule and let me have the road.  I'm ready for the return of the Pony Express.

Scare Technician. What...a profession.

    My first real job as a lively hormonal teenager was one of a nighmare.  Back in 2007, I worked for the Homer Haunted Mill as a zombie.  I prefer the term scare technician, myself.  But the experience as a whole really changed my outlook of the job force.  I used to dread the fact that one day my catered-to lazy self would have to find a vocation.  One that I would probably hate to wake up for each day, but this work experience really broadened my horizons.  I grew to love working at the Haunted House.  Most would assume it would have been a lax, slack-off workplace, but I busted my ass was all over that piece.  We had secret doors to cawl through to follow customers through the Haunted House.  I had to clean up the messes from the crowds and I actually helped create the monsters each and everyday.  I learned alot from this job.  Believe me, working at a Haunted House is a totally aweomse freekin job.