?

Log in

The proof in writing [entries|archive|friends|userinfo]
Eron Deleon

[ website | It doesnt exist anymore ]
[ userinfo | livejournal userinfo ]
[ archive | journal archive ]

(no subject) [Aug. 23rd, 2005|12:33 am]
Eron Deleon
After playing around in the metalshop today, I have decided to name my Gladus, Longinus...

Lets see it anyone can guess why, or what the reference is....
link9 comments|post comment

(no subject) [May. 5th, 2005|12:20 am]
Eron Deleon
There was a young man, a bit tired of his hand; who wanted to get some action.
Living at home, in the basement alone, with looks that did not get much attraction.
So he went to the mall, feeling ten feet tall, with an ego to make up for his size.
A bit bored with the sites, he sat down for a bite and gazed like a jackal out the window
and by said window did pass, a sweet piece of ass, that drove his body to rise
Aroused like a dream, sweat covering him like cream he ran to meet this young hotty
She whispered a name, quickly gone as it came, for he could not stop staring at her body.
Thinking style and aplomb his turned on hia charm, made with his best Don Juan.
She listened with a smirk, then slugged the dumb jerk, right in his unmentionable.
She told him take a hike, and said she was a dike, leaving him there on the lawn.
So alone yet again, with an ice pack on hand, he regretted getting up from his table.
What more could a boy need, but some lube and a screen,
To take the place of any woman, all he needed was dreams.


I wrote that a few years back.....is it bad that it still makes me chuckle?
link7 comments|post comment

(no subject) [May. 5th, 2005|12:10 am]
Eron Deleon
Untitled

Rose petals wilt as a chill sets in
A wintry night descends to meet me
A dream to be dashed upon the shores of indifference
Cold ice forms on the tip of an outstretched hand,
No solace can be found as the arctic has claimed their hearts.
A hand pointing forward, guiding the way,
Leading a non existent exodus into the future,
It all falls into a cesspool of apathy
The truth is honest, as stagnant as water.
Flies twirl over the lost corpse of desire,
The end was ordained before it began,
The future was written by the mistakes of the past,
An Armageddon of belief,
An end to the faith
To comfort and console,
Never to guide or lead
As the sheep run to their shelter,
The butchers wave their cane,
Those left to the cold, gaze with saddened eyes
They see underneath: those hidden knives.
Sacrificed to the altar, believe in your fate,
Paradise awaits you; do not pursue it on life,
I must lead by example and illuminate the path,
We are destined to be forgotten our lights extinguished in mind
The path can be shown, not followed, but lit
The future waits, as does each road to it,
Let the sheep see the light, let them follow their whim,
And let their mind be their own not guided by fate,
The spiral never moves, you only slide upon the plane
Let us slide to our wills, and fly forward to the light,
Let us be free of ourselves and escape this cold night.


I've been stumbling through some old files looking for a paper to turn in for my creative writing class
(don't get me started, the thought of someone actually being able to get a degree in that makes me want to curl up and die)
IT occured to me that my writing needs honing, as I read these old texts I realize.....I suck.

I would ask a boon of any reader, give me a subject, any subject or theme or notion and leave it in a comment, In return, I'll produce a story out of it, no matter how far fetched or zany it is. I need the practice and would be very much obliged.
Danke.
-e.
link3 comments|post comment

(no subject) [Apr. 9th, 2005|10:31 pm]
Eron Deleon
My eyeballs and ears are bleeding and my body reeks of a chemical compound that does not burn...it explodes.


Don't stand behind a top fuel drag racer when he blips his engine...
linkpost comment

(no subject) [Apr. 5th, 2005|08:45 pm]
Eron Deleon
That's one way of looking at it.

Another would be to say that a government that can be bent in that way has no right to govern.

Ask yourself this. Why does a hunger strike work?
link2 comments|post comment

(no subject) [Apr. 5th, 2005|04:03 pm]
Eron Deleon
I don't coddle hunger strikes, or tantrums of any sort...and I think no governemnt should. Coddle hunger strikes I mean, or people who chain themselves to fences or lie down in front of vehicles. Grown up tantrums.

...Threats of suicide are just another tantrum to me, another blackmail to which I will not submit. Besides if a person wants to take his own life, it is (I think) his privilege. Also, if he is dead serious about it, no one can stop him.
(Yes, I am a cruel and heartless scondrel. Stipulated. Now go play with your dolly somewhere else.)

--Maureen Johnson.
"To Sail Beyond the Sunset"
link1 comment|post comment

(no subject) [Apr. 5th, 2005|08:23 am]
Eron Deleon
Tragic lullabies,
put baby to sleep with dreams
don't wake up small one.
linkpost comment

(no subject) [Apr. 1st, 2005|12:26 am]
Eron Deleon
I have several people to write to....and damnit I'm having a hard time making the words come.
I think it is the small pleasures that have given me such a hiatus of climatic activity.
I am contnet to go about my day, adding numerous throughts and observations to my journals, attending classes and
spending time with Bob...
Its all I need, time for observation.
time for affection
and time just to be me....


allright, I'm through being pointless.
linkpost comment

(no subject) [Mar. 10th, 2005|07:01 am]
Eron Deleon
By the by.

While I'm distracting my mind.

Anyone who gets an odd facebook invite would be kind to know that I am not to keen on using my real name online.

But Eron Deleon is a good friend of mine, he lives in my skull and babysits for my brain when I'm away. Thats all. "ntck ntck"
link1 comment|post comment

(no subject) [Mar. 10th, 2005|06:43 am]
Eron Deleon
Some black guy rang my doorbell a few minutes ago
He was pretty clean shaven witha black jacket round head and a gold tooth.

He said he lived two doors down (or a few his accent was thick)and needed change for a twenty, and the stores weren't open and his wife needed to go to work.

He's got two problems.

1) no black people live on my street.
2) who the fuck knocks on a neighbor's door they don't know to ask for change.



There was a car waiting for him.



2 houses in my neighborhood have been burglarized by a black guy who gained entry through was seemed legitimate reasons.


I swear to anything held sacred, I am not about to let my house be the third.
Anyone have any suggestions? comfort? reassurance?
Police have been called, dispatch will be sent over the course of the day.
Why do I feel not the slightest reassured.
Not going to class today. Suppose that already makes me a victim. Maybe I'm paranoid, but I'm not about to find out!
link2 comments|post comment

navigation
[ viewing | most recent entries ]
[ go | earlier ]