THE SIXTH BOUROUGH

like wolves. like smoke. like the rest of the fucking world.

January 28, 2011

one on one

It feels nice, having a voice again. Call me gothic, but words just can't explain how great it is. I need to thank my muse. You know who you are.
I appreciate your giving voice to the voiceless, and being the only person who reads this bullshit.


she gives (me)aning.

raise the flag_.
raise the fucking white flag.
these faces won’t stop staring
and their anticipation
is killing me,
so i’m killing them.
(we’re all dead anyways.)

why not latch?
why not leech?
we can’t win on our own
and we can’t heal
without first diagnosing our
symptoms.

i’m searching you
for something
(everything)
i’ve hated.
(and you know damn well)
it’s everything
i’ve ever fucking wanted.

our dirty circuitry is circling;
(you encircle me)
i would _love_
to be
lost in our symmetry;
in our twisted little forestry;
our fortress
(our dream).

something so simply hidden
should not have been
so hard to find.
i’ve invested time
(after time)
in the same
useless search,
but now i’ve found
a new puzzle;
a new struggle.
and it’s the best kind
of trouble;
(you give me)
the best time
i’ve never had.

Going nowhere never seemed this meaningful.

-dalton.

January 02, 2011

just enough to piss you off:

“It’s funny how afraid we are of gravity itself,
when defying it should be our biggest fear.”


Every generation, every culture, every society is defined by movement or an icon. Looking back, it’s easy to stereotype decades, eras, peoples, into convenient little looks, styles and stigmas.
This current generation will be an easy one to define — all we’ll have to do is open our web browsers.

The internet has quickly become our society’s crutch. It’s something we rely on, something we quench, something we desire.
And unfortunately for us, we’re no longer in control of it.
As much as we’d like to believe we aren’t, we’re all slaves to something much bigger than us. We’re paying for freedom, we’re paying for knowledge and we’re paying for our own identity.
We're no better than a bunch of fucking junkies.

Our crutch began as nothing but a pretty little toy that we built.
But now it’s grown;
it’s snowballed into an entity of it’s own.
Our resource is now feeding off of us,
and we’re all laying back and accepting it.

Wake up.
Is this how you want to be remembered?
As a profile?
As a number?
As a series of still images?
A picture may be worth a thousand words, but a legacy is worth more than any of that.

Pull out of Big Brother and try to remember who you were.
And more importantly,
who you could be.


*NOTE: I realize the irony that lies in this being posted on a blog, but you're not gonna come read it off my notepad now, are you?