you got this python hollerin' for mercy

original version


infinitely better version

the lyrics to this song are kinda ridiculous, i think cocorosie makes it seem more meaningful

So for the moment while
We jamming at this party
You're wining hard on me
Pushing everything
Right back on top of me
Yeah-hey-ai
But if you think
You're gonna get away from me
You better change your mind
'Cause you're going home
You're going home with me tonight

So let me hold you
Come caress my body
You got me going crazy
Turn me on

Ooh yeah, let me jam you
I say wine all around me
'Cause you got me going crazy
Turn me on

One hand just on the ground
My Bumper cock is sky high
Wining hard on me
You got this python
Hollerin' for mercy
Yea-Hey-ai
And then I whisper in her ear
''Wine harder''
And then she said to me
''Boy just push that thing
Push it harder back on me''

So let me hold you
Come caress my body
You got me going crazy
Turn me on
Ooh yeah, let me jam you
I say wine all-all-all around me
'Cause you got me going crazy
Turn me on

i love covers of songs, or remixes
it makes you either appreciate the original that much more or it makes you fall in love with the same song all over again.
or in this case just a way better version

through the remixed looking glass

last halloween i was alice

let's exchange the experience

i am too much. i get distracted so easily. i get weighed down by things i should just forget about. i whine in my blog about it.
sometimes i wonder if i took some kind of medication
if id be different
if id be less passionate about certain things
or maybe my emotions would be more in check
and i could be motivated to finish the things i start

and then i just say whatever until i randomly think of this again

From behind my ear strands of fiber spindled down,
Formed by details constricting and coiling around,
Bound by the exhaustion of analysis,
Raw and rough to create calluses.
All these endless scenarios are tightly pulled together,
To distract me in every endeavor.
And I am wrapped by heavy curiosity,
Weighed by self-destructive ferocity.
Prisoner to the battles my mind has fought,
Tied to the tracks of my train of thought.

and so this isnt a completely depressing post...here is a video alex showed me that makes me laugh
i love the sound effects included

hermoso que puede ser el mundo

i am pretty sure nobody reads this. but its like a journal for me, and i guess its safer to put things on here rather than just my computer. i am running on about 3 1/2 hours of sleep. it is amazing and awful.

a few days ago this old woman came up to me and said "i love to see young people living their life." i wasnt doing anything particularily special, i was just sitting on a bench with my backpack.
i wonder what made her say that...?
"i love when old people randomly talk to me"

youtube only likes this with subtitles apparently. this reminds me that i used to be good at spanish. yo necesito dormir.

word.

i felt like this

In the morning I told you you had such pretty eyes
as I saw them peeking up and rising over blanket hills.
You said you felt so naked, and you were.
I felt so vulnerable, and I was.
The heart on my sleeve was bursting and crumpled
on the floor from the night before.
You held me so close, but on the drive home your voice let me go.
I wished all the fruits of our passion weren't so quickly sliced,
So soon and so rushed, smeared up against the sides,
All the seeds of thoughts splitting and making a mess in our heads,
but this might make the most beautiful blend of insecurities,
and all these splattered worries
may collect themselves and mix into
the sweetest taste.

in the closet

is where i hid my first boyfriend while my mom went to kiss me goodbye in the morning. one time she told me she actually needed something out of my closet, and i somehow distracted her to go to the kitchen. then i opened the closet door and told him with huge eyes to get the hell out of there and stuffed him in a suffocating position in my bed. i told her about all of this a few years later. she laughed and called me a "little devil", because my mom is cool.

Mom, I have never told you this before;
One absurdly early morning, a secret was concealed,
One who was naked and afraid to be revealed,
One who found shelter in my shell upon the shore.

Asleep in warm blankets and arms, he began to snore.
The comfort of intertwined skin and thread
Melted away the troubles in his head.
Teenagers in love, spending hours, and wanting more.

We were so young, but aware of your concern
for the time of growing bodies and minds
and the first crack in my heart,

but this comes with the desire to learn,
it beats faster for the one it finds
capable of loving and tearing apart.

one summer afternoon

my dad asked me carry the beer while he pushed my grandma in her wheelchair

The sun that day came slapping at our backs,
And to blind us with metallic glare.
It came to dampen spirits and shirts
And scorch the handle's of grandma's wheelchair.
With such conditions anger flirts,
And in its lust strikes temper's match.

This searing reminder brought father's thirst
And required a case of tall necked aid
But wheels could not roll with this in tow.
Of this responsibility I was afraid,
Because strong grip in hands was yet to grow
And young imagination can fear the worst.

I accepted this load quite hesitantly,
Little bones could not take this task,
And cardboard began to feel like enslavement.
I shattered your hopes in green glass,
Steaming ale profanities poured on pavement.
"A lovely day!" grandma said pleasantly.

eh?

i wanted to have this to post up the poems and other things ive written, but i just find myself rambling on here.
i feel like i should just delete this and forget about things.
things and their thingness.
id like to have all these beautiful and profound things to say
but
im all out of that right now.

thanks

i hadnt seen you for awhile. im sorry you had a bad day too. i felt mean and gross all day, and seeing you for just a moment cheered me up, so, thanks. i wish there were more people like you, that just tried to make the most of a bad situation.

waiting at my stop

i was sitting on a bench at the Fremont bart station today, arms full of laundry, and my purse full of diet soda that i smuggled from my parents house. while i was waiting to be picked up by my friend, this guy came and sat beside me. he asked if i had a boyfriend and i lied and gave him the response that would make him stop talking to me. but in my head i played out this whole other conversation with this completely random guy and he gave me his perspective on my life at the moment.


i didnt really want to come back to san jose today.