blastedgoat

a twenty-something writer at her wits-end with the world…

high on wordpad

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i wrote this a while ago and actually preformed it when i was attending college… i found it after my computer died when i was looking through old backup disks… haha…

right now i am high on life… or drugs… i can’t remember which one i’ve taken so forgive me but the effect is… hopefully very similar or the same.

i just watched a really awesome movie titled “Candy” it made me realize that the kind of life i am bound to have is one of the “drug addict” variety… not that i am going to be on drugs necessarily but that my life will have the effect of turning around in circles…. with moments of extreme bliss followed by periods of despair. the perpetual movement of my restless soul causes chaos in all of the movements around me. i bump into others (pushing them on or off course a bit more) and ultimately i am changed and unchanged… enlightened and mislead and living and dead all at one time. i long for strong connections with even more devastating break-aways. i am not unfaithful to others, i only do what is faithful to myself (after lapses of becoming who the “Great” other tells me to be)

i say learn to fuck your enemies, because everyone loves free pussy and it’s a hell of a lot easier to kill someone once you’ve fucked them, especially if it was bad… especially if they tried to stick it in your ass.

anyway back to the fucking… or the “Great” other… i don’t even have a fucking point anymore…

surrender the pie save the communist…. kill the ducks save the taxidermy stuffed duck’s increasing demand and the burden of an unmet supply for the “supply” part of “supply and demand” AND SHAT ON OUR COUNTRIES ECONOMIZ PROGRESS in the LAST 300 YEARS…

and BACON KILLS INNOCENT kevin bacons…. stop assisted suicides for people who have acted in or enjoyed kevin bacon movies, especially footloose, what a rubbery sack of scrotal bullshit. kevin bacon is a terrible person and killed me “grand pap” in Vietnam or as i calls it “yams” cause hey… *shimmy* who in the hell doesn’t like “yams”

“Tim Pieper Tim Pieper Tim Pieper Tim Pieper Tim Pieper

Time Pie Prrrr

i believe this all began with the introduction of drugs to mammals so fuck the camels *stomp on camel cigs* PASS THE WEED!!!

writer’s research #1

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Sleeping Beauty’s earliest influence apparently comes from “Perceforest,” an Arthurian romance which was first printed in 1528. The next known version of the tale came from Giambattista Basile’s “Sun, Moon, and Talia” also known more formally as Il Pentamerone, Day 5, Tale 5 (1636).

more on this later… just a note i found when i was interested in the origins of fairy tales… must be sure to check the accuracy of the information, any input is appreciated!

poems are for rabbits silly…

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On my shelves you won’t find useless quote plaques
or books I would never read; you might find: dust,
Polaroid cameras and even two 8mm brownies.

No one develops 8mm film anymore.
We’ve also got a record player,
we’ve worn out two others, already.

Written by blastedgoat

February 8, 2010 at 2:49 am

Posted in old, poetry

Tagged with

playground [old poem]

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my guess is that this was written sometime in high school, probably about my friend alex who died in middle school…

Playground in May.
Stormy day –
rain clouds come to play
because you didn’t stay.

Try to remember,
try to forget.
Live in the light –
never regret.

Before the break of day,
sun sets.
Yellow leaves fall in spring –
spiral dying,
before they feel the warmth of sunshine –
the cool relief of rain.

Try to remember –
try to forget.
Wash the lies away –
embrace the pain.

Written by blastedgoat

January 27, 2010 at 10:09 am

over ten years ago… visiting the lemon tree

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found this in my old angelfire account, i think it was an article from the waterloo/cedar falls courier. alex lemons was a friend and classmate of mine as are some of the students who give interviews in the article. i will try to find the rest of the articles, i will be visiting the tree soon because a new school is being built nearby… our old elementary school is being torn down sometime before april 30 so i will be getting video of that… the last time i remember seeing alex was when he was playing basketball with his brother and i was walking around with my friend who i don’t think went to lincoln, i think it was in the summer…

POSTED: Friday, May 7, 1999

Friends, family honor victim of brain tumor
By JIM STANTON

Alex Lemons loved baseball and loved riding bikes. He was happiest outdoors, always in search of fun.

Beneath it all was his affection for his family and his close-knit friends. He loved being around them.

Thursday afternoon, those people gathered outside Logan Middle School with only memories of the boy, who died after battling a type of brain tumor that almost never strikes children.

Alex died at age 12 in September — eight months and seven surgeries after hearing the diagnosis.

At the 15-minute ceremony Thursday, a teacher read a poem and a close friend recalled playing baseball with Alex. Classmates sang “The Lemon Song,” a 1962 hit whose lyrics had been revised for Alex.

Asked for a few words, his mother, Colleen, 36, mentioned how caring and thoughtful his friends had been through the ordeal. Some still come by the house.

“That means a lot,” she said.

Then, people shoveled dirt on the roots of a young linden tree planted next to the school in Alex’s memory.

Family members were the first to take the shovels. Then classmate Ashley Remetch asked close friends if they wanted to add some dirt. Many of the most emotional students, with teary eyes and red cheeks, picked up the shovel as Colleen held the tree trunk in place.

“This is a perfect tribute to Alex because he loved the outdoors,” she said.

Even kids who didn’t know Alex well seemed touched by the outpouring. “This is sad,” one girl whispered.

After the ceremony, when others left, Alex’s friends stayed to hug and cry some more. A number of them had known Alex since his years at Lincoln Elementary School.

“He was fun and caring,” classmate Ashley Rossin said. “He loved everything. He was always happy. The sunshine was always on him.”

Other students said the death had prompted them to consider how precious and short life is.

“It makes me think you should respect the person for who they are,” said Clayton Hoffman, a close friend of Alex since kindergarten.

The sickness came on suddenly, Alex’s dad, Gordon, 36, said. Alex had been healthy all his life when he started reporting intense headaches around Halloween 1997.

One episode came at a movie with friends, when the pain was so intense he was forced to leave the theater.

He was taken for an examination. And since Colleen’s family has a history of migraines, physicians first tried migraine medicine, but that didn’t work long.

With more headaches, doctors ran tests and by mid-January 1998 found the real culprit: a fast-growing tumor in the middle of his brain. It was already grapefruit-size, despite starting only six months earlier, doctors said.

Alex spent much of the spring and summer in Iowa City hospitals undergoing surgeries and treatments, but his friends stood by him.

“They came by the house, they came by the hospital,” Gordon said. “Even though he was sick, they would talk to him and visit with him like it was nothing.”

With word of imminent death, the family brought Alex back to Waterloo, where he died Sept. 3 in his home.

“Nobody would think about it happening to your kids,” Gordon said. “It’s bad to say, but with cancer, everybody thinks it’s going to happen to somebody else. It’s unreal.”

Colleen said next week is Brain Tumor Awareness Week. She hopes the event will raise awareness of the problem and spur the search for a cure.

fuck avatar

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SERIOUSLY i hate it when i get stupid spam comments on my blog that are obviously spam and i hate it even more when it is some stupid advertisement for avatar so fuck you, avatar!

Issac Maez
mustwatchmovies.net
masterone@yahoo.com
82.31.82.41
2010/01/25 at 4:45pm

Good stuff. Best movie I have seen in a while is Avatar hands down. That movie was well done and extremely entertaining. For any of you that have yet to see it, go watch it while it’s in theaters. You will not be disappointed.

FUCK YOU ISSAC MAEZ of mustwatchmovies.net if that is your real name… I WILL FUCKING DESTROY YOU!
THANK YOU!

the missing pot

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this song was honestly inspired by missing beans, and they are dearly missed… the word “Recurrence” was accidentally pasted there by me but i thought it was interesting and left it in. the slashes are from when i left the document open and my cat jumped on the keyboard and scared the crap out of me in the middle of the night! it is kind of a funny blues song… enjoy :)

In the Kitchen, top of the stove, I left ‘em,
in the Kitchen, on top of the stove, left ‘em there I know,
but they gone now, I got the missing bean pot blues…

Recurrence…

Have you seen ‘em? I haven’t seen a lima or string.
I bet that by now them baked beans turned green.
Looked high, looked low, in the cabinets, cupboards, stove.
Someone must’ve snatched ‘em up… maybe they just disappeared…

The man that hit our mail box, won’t listen to my woes,
curse the one who misplaced them, unless it was a
\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ghost!

Written by blastedgoat

January 24, 2010 at 7:48 pm

youtube rant

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this is your friendly neighborhood youtuber and like all things my affections can be purchased with your loyal viewing of my horrifyingly lame poetry and attempt at art-house productions and college films (at best) but come on down and tell ‘em blasted goat sent ya… i think it is only fair of me to warn you that by viewing this video you are in effect selling your soul to the devil by which i mean me and by your soul i mean the 19 seconds i stole from you in order for me to get my point across. i mean you better watch out, someday life as we know it, the internet as we know it will no longer be the same. please think about each and every caption and ad you allow to overshadow our creative endeavors and ask yourself if the ads are worth it? why do we spend more money on advertising than on solving diseases or building things that are useful? i for one am sick of living in a world that is congested with commercials, exhausted with e-mail spam, and overloaded with consumerism at its worst. we have a devalued dollar, a country that is falling apart from the inside out and we have nothing better to do than talk about fucking jon and kate plus 8, brittney spears’ vagina, or a creepy 50-year-old that liked to touch little boys. MICHAEL JACKSON IS NOT DEAD, HE IS JUST PLANNING ONE HELL OF A ZOMBIE COMEBACK TOUR!!

recurrence

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Sketchers pound erratically on uneven stairs that I take at top speed, flashing a jagged key, twisting an oval knob, heart racing past a pile of summer shoes. I bolt the door behind me and instantly remember a dream I had when my bedroom overlooked Broadway Street. I heard a creature snarling under the porch. It looked like our dog, Bear but he wasn’t fluffy, he was big with black matted fur and cold eyes. I pushed my brother inside before me and I saw the thing going for my mother. Her foot caught on the third stair and she fell forward. The door slammed shut and locked before she could scramble up the stairs and bang on the window. I stared through glass, screen and more glass. I saw my mother’s eye disappear down the monster’s throat. I tried to scream or to move. I tried to shake the bed. The blankets felt heavy on my chest but I saw the ceiling through blurry eyes and heard a familiar voice.

Written by blastedgoat

January 24, 2010 at 7:33 pm

half-asleep

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Am I going insane or just walking around half-asleep again? I hear clowns or something more sinister laughing from the closet. I throw my cat-pillow but she is heavier than I remember so she lands close enough to encircle my head again. I see a familiar number on the loud buzzing face, I can’t ignore it. It drives me crazy. Do I wear my hair in stranger ways in stranger places on my bobbling-head? A caricature, less mature than I am. I turn over in the morning to avoid the sun pouring its citrus sourness through my stinging eye lids that flutter open like warm butterflies. I drift out of bed and creak down the hall like an old woman. I take out a frying pan and proceed to eat my brain on drugs. I do not answer questions the first time they are asked before 9am. My finance catches up to my quiet footsteps. His face begins to buzz behind me as I brush my teeth.

Written by blastedgoat

January 24, 2010 at 7:27 pm