Tales of Doom & Bromance

capital H

2009-10-31T19:13:04Z

you are in the other room wearing a towel and a smile. my brown haired indian treat. it is in the many moments like these that we share in which I know I am resigned fully to you and you alone. So now I take the time to acknowledge this feeling. and i too smile and my chest is lifted. you're whistling in the bathroom, biding time happily and hopefully. I will do anything to make you happy like this forever. despite anything.

love, soon I'll take you away.

saved.

2009-08-08T01:32:42Z

mi amor.

argylesquall @ 2007-12-30T20:26:00

2007-12-31T01:25:14Z

this is all we have.

blues boy.

2007-11-14T19:30:17Z

respect.

they pull me in- but...

2007-10-20T02:07:09Z

hello again my fickle, whorish readers.
I'll try to take up as little of your time as possible today by doing exactly what i just said i wouldn't do; and if you didn't understand that, then kindly stop reading- now.
This whole thing started as a minute personal flickering of emotion that spawned deep within my gut as I rode along in my roommate's tiny mini cooper to a party store for a David Bowie wig. This seemingly random feeling eventually grew into a strong nostalgic yearning for old friends. true friends. As I have found that the more valuable human assets of my life seem distanced from me during my time away at a higher learning facility of the arts.
My brain and heart thusly decided, unanimously, that some sort of action should be taken, which brings us to now. here.
you.
---
As you are undoubtedly aware, you are currently engrossed in the "private" literary works of one David Andrew Carmo. the word "Private" being in italics because things that are written on such a vast, complex series of super fast data-tubes, accessible by virtually anyone, is hardly private. Leading to the irony that indeed, an online diary could and does exist, and- to further that irony- that Mr. Carmo knowingly writes in it.
The purpose of this entry in particular though, escapes me, and probably escapes him as well. As most of David's attempts to share with people in effective and genuine ways seem to fail horribly or are misinterpreted completely, as he most likely is aware. However, it is of his own belief that such failures and shortcomings are nothing in light of the attempts made, and that people will see his meanings within the act of trying. So, for his sake, let's hope that he is right.

The subject matter of Mr. Carmo's "journal" usually pertains to personal feelings written in a cryptic, poorly developed style of free verse. Switching sometimes to fictional story-telling or outright nonsense. In these stories he communicates his personal thoughts vicariously through the words and actions of a faceless, nameless narrator who interacts with loose women, sex addicts, suicidals, and the like. These characters may also be projections of Mr. Carmo's own self, Although there is no real way to be certain due to the nonsensical, immature quality that dominates his work.

Mr. Carmo, in addition to being a lousy author, is an artist. Although, when asked he would never admit to it despite all the obvious evidence pointing to this fact, as he is a very stubborn individual. Which, in and of itself, could be considered an artistic trait as far as one N.C. Wyeth or even Norman Rockwell, who during a television interview in the year of 1943 stated, "I always paint the world as I would like it to be." After which he proceeded to paint a serene, idealized landscape of the American Midwest for the remainder of the program.
However, whether or not anyone was aware. A second world war was currently being fought at the exact time of this statement between a portly, handicapped alcoholic and a very loud, nasty man with a mustache and Parkinson's. Both of whom had ridiculous accents and equally ridiculous solutions to their problems.
Regardless, this second world war had made Mr. Rockwell's previously mentioned statement also seem quite ridiculous at the time. But no matter how stubborn or naive it may have been, a statement by such a renowned and talented artist would hardly be frowned upon. Especially in comparison to the daily ineptitudes and ignorances of a young college student who knew absolutely shit about nothing.

So it was, thanks to stubborn ignorance and a slightly advanced drawing ability, that Mr. Carmo was one day destined- or doomed- to arrive at the Ringling College of Art and Design in Sarasota Florida. A town which he lovingly and childishly nicknamed "sarascrotum" because of its lack of quality entertainment and abundance of senior citizens. Whom he openly ridiculed with a megaphone from his car window as a way to get back at them for being wiser, more experienced, and causing slow traffic flow.

However, before we delve deeper into Mr. Carmo's future, I think he would prefer that we take a look at his past. As the majority of his thoughts seem to always be located there for whatever reason. So it shall be.
Until next time.

argylesquall @ 2007-10-02T15:16:00

2007-10-02T19:17:03Z

#66.1 - Elvis Perkins - While you were sleeping
Uploaded by lablogotheque

...kind of busy.

2007-09-20T01:57:47Z

you, me, and everyone we know.

2007-08-04T18:01:05Z

When panic grips your body,
and your hearts a hummingbird.
Raven thoughts blacken your mind,
till you're breathing in reverse.
and all your friends and sedatives,
mean well, but make it worse...

...and every reassurance, just magnifies the doubt.
better find yourself a place to level out.

we're never going home.

2007-07-16T23:11:43Z

pt. 2

2007-04-27T18:47:45Z

Getting over to Rumor's place was not easy.
I had trouble just walking out the door. Even reaching for the doorknob made me feel sick to my stomach. Things are definatley deteriorating. I even experienced this awful tightening across my chest, a rise in pulse, shaky hands. The whole affair was one big paradox. On the one hand, I was laughing at myself, mocking the irrational nature of my anxiety, which I still look back and view as completley absurd. While on the other hand, at the same time, I was terrified. I wish I was terrified of something in particular, but there was nothing as far as I could tell, which made me feel even worse.
I know it makes no sense, but there you have it.
Eventually I accepted the risk of cardiac arrest, muttered a flurry of fucks, and charged through the door into the sunlight, or what would have been sunlight had those grey clouds not been blotting it out for the past 3 days. I was determined to meet Rumor again.
In my head I was running through the scene I had made three nights earlier with Rumor, wondering if my drunkeness coupled with sleep deprivation could have caused me to have those monstrous hallucinations, or if it was something else..
I told myself I'm fine. theres nothing wrong with me.
of course, I'm fine.
Except as I started walking down the sidewalk, I watched a truck veer from it's lane as it rounded a corner down the street, flattening a stop sign while desperatley trying to slow down and redirect itself. Then, in spite of all the breaks on this monster of a vehicle, it still flipped and began barrel rolling on its side towards me, with smoke now gushing from its innards. Ear splitting shrieks and metal crunches shot into the air each time it rebounded off of the pavement into another roll, until finally, the machine and myself made contact.
Suddenly, I understood what it meant to be weightless.
I was flying through the air, no longer a slave to the whims of gravity and mass. That is, until I was, landing on the roof of a parked car, which turned out to be my car, a good fifteen feet away, hearing the thud of my body crashing onto the hood, but not feeling it. I think I even blacked out, but I came back to reality just in time to wish I hadn't, as the truck was still barrelling towards me until finally, it got me again. All that twisted steel was grinding into me, instantly destroying my legs, pelvis and stomach. The metal from the grill wedging itself forward like a grid of large kitchen knives, severing me from the waist down.
people started screaming.
Though not about me. Something to do with the truck.
It was leaking. Gas.
It had caught fire, I was going to burn.
Only there was no gas. No leak either. There weren't even any people, no one screaming. And there sure as hell wasn't any goddamn truck. I was alone. My street was empty.
I was laying on the sidewalk like a discarded fetus. My chest stretching out again, pain jolting me back to reality.
This has got to stop.
I have to go.
I did go.

all things move toward their end (number 13)

2007-04-20T01:32:30Z

If you asked me now, I couldnt tell you what the hell that is.
Its not even done, and i if you asked me now I would also be unable to tell you why i bothered scanning it. Or for that matter, why even draw something like that in the first place.
I really don't know. I've been dissapointed with my art latley, thats just how it gets sometimes.

This weekend will be my last trip down until I'm out of school. Which really isn't a big deal since I'll be out of school in about two weeks, but I have a feeling It will be a very long and stressful two weeks as work has already started piling up. Anyways, my brother and I are planning somekind of shindig of "epic proportions" while my parents are away for the weekend, and I'm sure we would be delighted if anyone that reads this wants to come over and chill. However, that leaves me coming home friday with nothing to do, except a haircut, so get in touch.

and... yeah. thats it.

how could we even begin to bear this burden, without that promise of something more at the end.

2007-04-12T16:11:24Z

Infinite Silence
I'm throwing red ink at your door
this is right
this is wrong
I cannot sleep without your radio on.

...and how could anyone?
when youre in my dreams.
half human, half serene.
You are someone else,
something beautiful that my eyes dont ever see.
I cannot rest, for my conciousness contests.
looking up through your lens.
like how winter brings the spring again.

Infinite Silence
we're floating in pain towards the dawn.
this is right
this is wrong
oh I cannot sleep without your radio on.

and we,
fall asleep again, with scars to bare.
so please,
let the clinging begin.
the evolution of us.

I'm still,
holding my breath.
can't you see how delicate I am.
I'm still,
holding my limbs,
outward in distress.
this is only just a test of communication.
I'll hold my breath 'till communion breaks us.

oh you were in my dreams.
half human, yet all serene.
looking down through your lens.
like how death brings us life again.
but its only just a test
oh its only just a test.

Infinite Silence
we're throwing red ink at the dawn
this is right
this is wrong...
and I cannot sleep without your radio on.

argylesquall @ 2007-04-09T22:38:00

2007-04-10T03:02:09Z

Needs to be fitter, happier, more productive.
comfortable, not drinking too much.
regular exercise at the gym.
3 days a week.
getting on better with your collegiate peers and contemporaries.
at ease.
eating well.
no more microwave dinners and saturated fats.
a patient, better driver.
a safer car.
maybe later, a baby smiling in back seat.
sleeping well.
no bad dreams.
no paranoia.
start being kind to all animals.
never washing ants down the plughole.
no more kicking ducks.
keep in contact with old friends.
enjoy a drink now and then.
favors for favors.
fond but not in love.
start being more honest with yourself.
no killing moths.
wash car more often.
usually on Sundays.
no longer afraid of thunder or the apocalypse.
now enjoys the latter.
not concerned with something so ridiculously nieve and desperate.
so childish.
find a better pace.
slower and more calculated.
with no chance of escape.
concerned but ultimatley powerless.
become an empowered and informed member of society.
pragmatism not idealism.
can not cry.
take better care.
improve self image.
less chance of illness.
pennsylvanian countryside.
a good memory.
no longer being empty and frantic.
claim the ability to laugh at weakness.
subdue personal flaws.
no more lying awake in bed.
no more worrying.
do better in school.
get your work done on time.
find peace of mind unattainable.
be calm.
fitter.
happier.
healthier.
more productive.
like a rat.
in a cage.
on antibiotics.

to the fiends, cowards and criminals, pertaining to matters of the heart and regaining self control.

2007-03-23T16:05:24Z

I'll write it down in lovers blood this time.
theres gotta be a better way to coax these words from my mind.
so I'll be the first one, not the last one.
to break routine and stop the sickness that's been breeding inside.

But theres no certainty that'll I'll break free.
from the girls and cigarettes that constitute my past history.
but maybe someone, not just anyone.
could demonstrate the proper steps cuz I've got two crooked feet.
--
Well as you're here now, baby close your eyes.
I'll try not to let my past dramatics interfere with your life.
Like a deer caught in the headlights.
(I warn you), the things i show you you might dislike.

Well as you're here now baby close your eyes
I'll take you on my lonley journey tonight.
Like a deer caught in the headlights.
(I warn you), we might not make it through the night.
--
now theres a rumor creepin' into my ears.
that I've been changin' how my image appears.
and I'll be the first one, not the last one.
to tell you images in mirrors aren't as big as you hear.

It's just a subtle substitution you feel.
A minor change, but the overall image is clear.
and I'ts the first time, in a long time.
I've felt direction in a world that I fear.

So to those who doubt,
you comprise the bitter taste I need to purge from my mouth.
Don't come to me with your queries on brand loyalties,
because my patience is running out.
--
and so I've found the key,
though there are many fiends in me.
the situations changed,
and now the fiends inside will have to deal with me.

oh yes I've found the key,
though there are many fiends in me.
they have a new master now,
and if i go down I'm taking them with me.

sometimes everything can be just so fucking hilarious

2006-12-21T00:22:32Z

Don't follow the red flowers that haunt your floating corpse.
youre tangled in a deservingly deprived state of mind that communicates total absence of fluid, rational thought and manageable process.
no one can begin to understand the meaning behind our gold roses that sprout from within our worn out cardiacs. as we wait for the resulting heart attack that will release us from the prisons within our minds.
to be free of everything.
Its always been heart versus mind. us versus them. but mostly its been me versus you.
and after all this time still no one seems to truly care about my cardial arrest adressed to my inward living, reflective of said unsourcable torment.
oh how we run from ourselves, i wish i could find things.
I can't find the beginning or end to this silly string of failures and hollow achievements as i cant remember much of anything these days.
sometimes i think all those times ive spent out in the rain might have washed my everythings away. leaving me as a lonley pathetic puddle to withstand the cold stinging sleet of bullshit that i deal with day to day.
where has the passion gone.
i think that might be gone from me too, but theres only one way to find out.
as far as i know, the future holds nothing that i havent already died for, and i can tell its going to be full of more of this lame shit that ive been repeating over and over. Im growing concerned about this redundancy that i live in.
my name is david carmo, and i dont know what comes next.
its cold in here.

Punch-Drunk Melody

2006-11-13T15:55:02Z

Why is it that when Im feeling I cant write.
Right now I just cant bother to think about what to write, to organize my thoughts, I just have to keep going.
This isnt going to be good.
Does that mean in everything else Ive written Im just pretending?
I feel like the empty space between my computer desk and dirty clothes bin.
I feel like shit. I always I feel tired. Why do I always feel tired? I usually get enough sleep I think.
In this shit life, we must chuck some things out.
My life is a B movie
When the lights hit my eyes in the morning, the first thing I think is.
Oh no
There are some people in this world that receive a large reward for zero effort and contribution.
This isn't going anywhere.
I want a cigarette.
Id like to sit outside by myself and smoke a cigarette. Just sit on the wooden stairs outside the dorm and smoke. Watch the cigarette slowly burn away in my hand, smoke curling around my fingers.
But Im trying to stop. Ive been quitting for almost two months.
I feel like the space where the yellow-orange street light is hitting the sidewalk.
It would be nice if I could sit and get cancer with someone, with a girl maybe.
Maybe not smoking; maybe doing something worthwhile. Kissing, that would be nice. I would like that better than giving myself cancer.
Or maybe just talking, I havent had that in a while.
Intelligent conversation.
I cant explain why exactly I dont want to be with a girl. Maybe its the actual relationship that scares me; the risk of another failure, more pain that I dont want or need.
Ive been out of it for a long time now. Or maybe not long enough?
This whole broken heart clich is starting to annoy me.
I need to re-adjust; I need to get my shit together.
Why do I always feel busy, I want more time to enjoy things; life.
There are some things in life that I will never be able to explain; some things that I will just never ever have a grasp of; things that will always remain beyond my tiny, selfish center of comprehension.
That makes me feel stupid.
What am I doing wrong?
Does anyone else think of this shit? Probably, but then I guess they figure it out somehow. They move on. They fall in love, they fuck, eat, work and just move on.
Then why am I stuck? I think I do more thinking about it than most people would. Or should maybe, but I dont really know.
I dont know if something is wrong with me, because I dont really know how other people are.
normal people.
But there cant be such a thing as normal. Only what people perceive to be ordinary, but that in and of itself is different for everyone.
I feel like the floor of a shower, the space between the drain and the shelved corner.
Why do I always associate how I feel with random shit.
I guess right now I have to go smoke by myself. Why am I not ok with that?
Im always lacking in something.
This isnt going anywhere.

someday you will be loved

2006-10-18T04:11:06Z

I wish i had a time machine. I miss the feeling of home.

ramblings of a broken boy

2006-07-26T18:44:01Z

I need a purpose and I need a reason I need to know that there is trophy and meaning to all that we lose and all we fight for to all our loves and all our wars keep breathing keep living keep searching keep pushing keep bleeding keep healing keep fading keep dying this is for the hearts still beating forgetting anything and everything my black cloud gaining ground as engine roars and rain pours down the chase is on years spent outrunning my demons and her eyes keep moving surrounding me so with engine heart and boiled blood I will push on down my wounded roads I will outrun you all and find a home in brand new arms that won’t let go racing on to my end we both unraveled at our seams that were never sewn we never had a chance we never had a choice we never had a fucking chance all my devils and all my demons walk with me as they walked with her all my devils and all my demons haunting me as they haunted her giving out and giving in I must keep on searching keep on running suicide eyes just keep hunting for new hearts to break for old wounds to make no one will break my fall keep on moving keep on hiding in the ripe new lives that I’m destroying finding comfort in their wreckage I kill new hope with old pain no one will break my fall I’m stopping this slow death with letters never sent I’m killing one way romance and its words never read I’m leaving love’s lost battles to the vulture’s need to feed I’m leaving you I’m leaving them and learning to be me heart is everything heart is you love is you hell is you loss is you and heartless I have become you fail me with every fatal crush you fail me with every abandoned love you fail me with your inferno fuck me eyes that burn as fuel for my city and its blinding neon lights burning bright white lines into my skin you fail me with your new dead end dream you fail me with your run away fantasies you fail me as love’s greatest war that was never worth waging you were never worth fighting for or dying for living every day dying every day you think you are a poet you think you’re a victim but you live as a selfish prude that has never sacrificed that has never loved you think you are tragic but I know you’re just lost you have walked the fault lines and cut yourself along them all this world doesn’t fight you you fight yourself you think I failed you you failed yourself I was once an innocent boy who found death on his knees crashed and burned feeling sore and sour I’ve searched with pen and paper I search to show you just how far I broke from myself in the name of fear and doubt in a hope for a better world there would be a better me without the senseless chasing that won’t leave me among the wolves at my door keep all your wars I’m going home to bed I’ve died more than you will ever live let me live leave me be let me live let me be me you haunt me with broken promises and new dead ends in every dream you haunt me in these dark red nights coming to take my crown I’ll stand my ground against the plague queen for I am the death king and you are nothing more than dying royalty you are nothing more than a fading drama queen your spelling errors in love letters just sealed your fate you are nothing more than late night fantasy you are nothing more than a rehearsed tragedy your spelling errors in love letters just killed your dreams just killed you I just killed you you are nothing more than a dim lit whore you are nothing more than a crashing storm crashing down into your own blood you chase a shadow that will fade out in pain I keep giving when you keep taking please stop running and just start living me without you I have learned to live without your light that burned so bright you are half the heart and half the life like the chilling edge of a hanging moon I need no light in this world of darkness for it is darkness I have become.

This is the end.

she kissed my scars and i smiled

2006-03-13T20:18:35Z

my spring break was great.
i never realized the home that i had until i left it, and now i miss it.
my friends are great, and hopefully ill be down again very soon.

fucking schoolwork
i didnt mind it last semester, but this semester my classes are rediculous and i dont like it
fuck painting.

i miss a certain girl back home. life is silly, i never would have thought this would happen.
but then again i sorta did.
regardless, it makes me happy and that much more eager to make the 4 hour drive home.
i mind it less and less.

anyways, thank you friends, i miss you all.
shout outs to (in no particular order):

my bro AC
Mr. Clause!
J*
S. Strange
Rumpadump
P-muthafuckin-Gritty
Disco Dave
Saint Vegas
T-rex
Haylee Cee
Poo Poo
PR
and a handful of others..

oh. and the goddamn juggernaut.

ill see you all soon, peace bitches.

"We May Be Many..."

2006-02-22T05:51:24Z

see ya'll there.

History suggests, that we're all liars, some better than others. some better than others...

2006-02-15T01:40:57Z

science suggests, we're all lovers, some better than others.

some better than others..

every plot has a twist.

TAKEDOWN!

2005-07-27T03:01:34Z

suck on it people, i hate that show.

if silent screaming were so easy then we'd all be guilty

2005-07-13T03:04:54Z

(not shown: Jimi, our new 2nd guitarist, hes a cool dude, more later)

the band has been improving and growing, we might be going up to lakeland soon to record the few songs we've made together.

and oh yea.
come to our practices! we'd love the support, comments and critisisms. thank you bitches.

welcome to your own private radio

2005-06-22T18:54:48Z

fuck you everybody, the souls are the best.

ive got no place to go, but my own private radio

2005-04-10T01:44:15Z

track meet all fucking day
why do i put up with the things that i hate
i was shit yesterday, i am shit today, and tomorrow, i will wake up possibly even more like shit..

cant wait to get out of here and get away from all this,
this..
everything

"hate is in the air, you can see it, read it, hear it, and feel it.."