Can't get enough symphony in her eyes to eden.
Enter me my last chance for hope.
Had a god but I fucked her all away.
Because she couldn't feel what I wrote.
[I am a spasmodic collective of deviating impulses signifying fury, deprivation, & madness.]
۩۞۩
About:The composure of my soul is harmonized by the sounds that travel into me.
Call me Darien. I bite. Try to leave the nonsense down to a minimum.
I'm normally very quiet, up all night sleep all day if at all. I get crazy alot. I know I'm fairly attractive for a male, but I'm also very deep, attentive to detail, and focused outside of the box. I charm people, and I'm quite good at getting others to see things differently. If I can't convince or overpower someone, I'll use whatever means I can to make sure they're no longer a threat to me.
I drink and smoke because I don't really need my liver or lungs, and being independent of substance or straight edge is too overrated. I just like to feel good in a life that feels shitty. So I do whatever the fuck I please then something completely different the following day just to mix it up a bit. Some people tell me I think too much, but sometimes I feel like it's not enough. I try to find the loop hole in the system, or an impossible situation. I'm quite gaurded, but in a way that you wouldn't recognize it as such. Some would describe me as a risk taker and a bit of a sociopath, so sometimes I just do things to get a feeling or because it beats doing nothing if that's what I need to do to contradict what I really feel like doing. My existance seems like a dead end. On the outside, I try as hard as I can to die young, yet on the inside all I want to do is live.
This page is only an expression really. Of things that are obvious, things that are hidden, and a combination of both intended. Sure, there's alot more that I gaurantee you don't know about me. Things which I promise you will never discover, nor can you pretend to know when speaking to me. Inevitably you will see that I am just a stranger. I prefer things this way, because there isn't as much surprise when my realisations and assumptions on character of others turn out to be correct. Though I may be smiling at you on the outside, on the inside - I'm most likely imagining what your head will look like on a stick. So why am I here? To talk to you, charm you, taunt you, tease you, but most importantly to see if you're stupid enough not to read this before you come chatting me up. If you do, and still decide to talk? You're either unstable mentally, bold, naïve or all three. Though on the other hand, you could be something completely different which I have not seen before, but the chances are quite slim. I don't typically judge others before meeting them, but I suppose I'm just tired of the same boring, silly, repetition-tango in which I see the same in everyone I meet. We'll see I guess.
I'll play the killer.
You'll be the victim.
We'll use your blood to
p a i n t _ t h e _ t o w n _ r e d .
10,000,000 milligrams of pure F U C K Y O U est. 1987.
[p i c t u r e s]
