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Me doing my shenanigans Part II

I’m at it again!

(also reblogging this might just win you eternal love in my heart)

Since I’m talking about parkour. Why not some dinky 6foot gaps! (hurt like fuck)

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Chris Buck
~/~~/~~
Degenerate Generation

We are the Degenerate Generation
We span across all nations.
We are the summer sweat,
intoxicated and high.
the desperate plea of five more minutes
the late night cramming
and asphyxiation fetishes
the suicidal outbursts
the surveyors of apatheic…

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Chris Buck
2/1/2012

Anticlimatically, nostalgia unveiled
memories thought lost, ready set sailed.
Bundled up, huddled, tugging at the sheets
Gates sealed, and walls reinforced
Love it seems; a razor in hand
On hand , squeezing tightly.
A cacophony of color
new painted pictures
Tender, yet sweet-

And painful still
Love of companionship
the hugs, the holding, the beating
The mental games of I love you more,
how dare you whore;
Say such words to me,
Make me feel alright.
You made your effort
Now make your plight
Before you take your flight
and leave my hands over empty space
and gripping my paintbrush tight.

I love her smell. It hits my nose softly, but as I take it in, the aroma becomes a pungent extacy leaving me in a surreal entrancement of warmth, safety, love, and beauty.

-Austin Tylinski

We keep mementos of memories and experiences and people
Do we really need them?
to remind us of the memories
The joys
The pains
The lacking , empty, hollow, stoic feeling
If we remove those pictures, those mementos, those idols
Do we remove those memories too?

Rain faills and I speak to it
The only true conversation
It listens, it responds, it holds me
compassionate, both warm and cold

Honest

So difficult a lover to be found
staying oft, but just a while
tied to others just as bound
this undue burden, just a trial

Sensations embed themselves
adhered to the brainmatter
grey and white
How can something so devoid of color be so affluent to a rainbow.

 

Chris Buck
2/1/2012

Anticlimatically, nostalgia unveiled
memories thought lost, ready set sailed.
Bundled up, huddled, tugging at the sheets
Gates sealed, and walls reinforced
Love it seems; a razor in hand
On hand , squeezing tightly.
A cacophony of color
new painted pictures
Tender, yet sweet-

I love her smell. It hits my nose softly, but as I take it in, the aroma becomes a pungent extacy leaving me in a surreal entrancement of warmth, safety, love, and beauty.

We keep mementos of memories and experiences and people
Do we really need them?
to remind us of the memories
The joys
The pains
The lacking , empty, hollow, stoic feeling
If we remove those pictures, those mementos, those idols
Do we remove those memories too?

Rain faills and I speak to it
The only true conversation
It listens, it responds, it holds me
compassionate, both warm and cold

Honest

So difficult a lover to be found
staying oft, but just a while
tied to others just as bound
this undue burden, just a trial

Sensations embed themselves
adhered to the brainmatter
grey and white
How can something so devoid of color be so affluent to a rainbow.

env0:

Chris Buck
~/~~/~~
Degenerate Generation

We are the Degenerate Generation
We span across all nations.
We are the summer sweat,
intoxicated and high.
the desperate plea of five more minutes
the late night cramming
and asphyxiation fetishes
the suicidal outbursts
the surveyors of apatheic…