God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference

When I was really young, maybe 5 or 6 my great grandfather told me the story of the Prodigal Son. I didn't know a thing about religion, I had never been to mass and I just knew that "Jesus Christ" was something my dad said when he was annoyed. Ever since that first time I heard it it has always touched me and I think in part because I've always felt like that younger son. Anyways, here it is, excerpted from Luke 15:11-32.

There was a man who had two sons. The younger of them said to his father, 'Father give me the share of his property that will belong to me.' So he divided the property between them. A few days later the younger son gathered all he had and traveled to a distant country, and there he squandered his property in dissolute living. When he had spend everything, a severe famine took place throughout that country, and he began to be in need. So he went and hired himself out to one of the citizens of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed the pigs. He would gladly have filled himself with the pods that the pigs were eating; and no one gave him anything. But when he came to himself he said, 'How many of my father's hired hands have bread enough and to spare, but here I am dying of hunger! I will get up and go to my father, and I will say to him, "Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son, treat me like one of your hired hands."' So he set off and went to his father. But while he was still a far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him. Then the son said to him, 'Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son.' But the father said to his slaves, 'Quickly, bring out a robe--the best one--and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. And get the fatted calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate; for this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.' And they began to celebrate.

Now his elder son was in the field; and when he came and approached the house, he heard music and dancing. He called on of the slaves and asked what was going on. He replied, 'Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fatted calf because he has got him back safe and sound.' Then he became angry and refused to go in. His father came out and began to plead with him. But he answered his father, 'Listen! For all these years I have been working like a slave for you, and I have never disobeyed you command; yet you have never given me even a young goat so that I might celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours came back, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the fatted calf for him!' Then the father said to him, 'Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.

"naw man, I'm pretty fuckin far from okay"

the next couple of posts are all going to be biblically influenced, this particular one (in combination with the title) combines that with my love for Pulp Fiction. This is Jules' soliloquy and also an excerpt from Ezekial 25.

The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he who in the name of charity and goodwill shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness, for he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know my name is the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon thee.

she said "trapped between babushkas on a plane is a fraction of how lame it is to watch you pump the poison through your veins"

all quiet on the western front.
i'd kill for some noise.
i almost miss stupid fights
miss the melodrama
the crying
the computer's sound
as you devised new and more effective ways to cut into me
miss the pathetic sound it made
for my feeble responses.
these days everything feels like an im
fragment, fragment, abbreviation, typo, fragment.
i don't speak in sentences anymore,
i speak in excuses.
please excuse my need to apologize,
but also accept my deepest apologies.
i need your forgiveness,
if just for a while
because i can say for sure that right now,
no hyperboles or similes
i need you more than ever.
one summer day i made you a promise
and i'm trying so hard not to break it,
but at the same time i can't help but to wonder
if you even care anymore.
the worst part is that i'm trying my hardest to care right now,
but there's no love in an empty room.
there's so little you in my life
that when i write i lose track of who "you" is.
i've realized that the problem is that you gave me too many chances
and i love you for that, i was practically a boy for christs sake
but i guess eventually i just figured
i'll always have another shot
now i am very thoroughly out of chances
and lamenting over how many i wasted.
but i'm asking you, not for you another chance
but for a moment of your time, a call,
a fucking square of pixels on a screen.
right now i need you to hear me.

prostitution is revolution (you can hate me after you pay me)

i cant help but to make this post.
the new cobra starship album (viva la cobra!) and the new say anything record (in defense of the genre) are both amazing and you should buy, not pirate, both of them.

your move

bitch i go dummy like "where the fucks my chin strap?"

tucker max and tyler durden are beasts.

they gave us magic markers, so I tried to draw infinity

when a line in a song or a poem, or really anything strikes me in a certain way, it usually ends up as a title to one of these entries. this post is leftovers and stuff.

.this story's getting old, the homewrecker with a heart of gold. fall out boy
.i am heaven sent. don't you dare forget. brand new
.leave the novelist in hi daydream tomb, leave the scientist in her rubik's cube, let the true genius in the padded room, remain. bright eyes
.when I do wrong, I am with god. bright eyes
.i can be lonely if she's happy, afterall. manchester orchestra
.from a sinner to his maker: you prodigal son is on his knees. manchester orchestra
.i died for you one time but never again. brand new
.my beauty supreme, yeah, you were right about me. brand new
.this is a signpost to remind me how I wanted things this way. kevin devine
.she says its pretty but you hate yourself, I can hear it clear as day. kevin devine
.5, 4, 3, 2, 1 lets start a fire. thursday
.i'll try to make this perfectly clear: i'm so transparent i disappear. cursive

that's enough for now. I have tons more.

forget your compass and stars, this world will tear you apart

dear god,
I'm not quite sure if you're up there, or anywhere,
I'm not sure why I'm writing this
and if you do exist, I'm not sure if I want you to know this.
But I have to write it.
I've made a lot of mistakes in my life, if you haven't noticed,
and I bet I'm not your favorite son, but you should know that I'm trying.
maybe I just want to convince myself that I'm trying.
I bet people like me aren't on your divine radar
so I guess I'll do some explaining.
I'm not really proud of the things I do
but I know that I do them well,
I know that I'm doing my very fucking best
and I really want you to know that too.
usually when I write I can get a little podantic,
indulge myself with big words
but I bet you get enough of that from prayers.
I want you to know who I am.
I don't want you to pass me over, just another kid.
please
please remember this.
do you get this a lot?
ok, I'll try something else
remember this
remember the things I love
the things like falling asleep to the sound of rain on my windows
tapping my foot to love songs
walking through cities alone at night
staring at the stars from rooftops
laughing myself silly
my friends
drinking tea in a warm cabin surrounded by snow.
is that enough?
please tell me that I wont be forgotten
I'm so scarred
I'm so scarred.
this isn't the only letter I've written today,
when I woke up I wrote a letter to my future self
one line
it read "it only gets better"
because I know I can make myself happy in life,
its making everybody else happy I'm worried about
and making you happy.

Please show me that you know I exist.
I'm your biggest fan.
I'm your worst enemy, but I'm trying to change all that,
I'm done ruining the good you create.
Please remember me.
-andrew