tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53315204708686441572023-11-16T04:12:04.112-08:00Everyday Struggles.ollieoxenfrass.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06122511695701201598noreply@blogger.comBlogger251125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5331520470868644157.post-82684311761318576232013-10-14T20:42:00.001-07:002013-10-14T20:43:18.199-07:00GREEN SAUCE<i>we like that extra spicy feeling that makes us cry -</i><br />
<i>tears of pain and makes our noses drip. </i><br />
<i>that extra green sauce on the side</i><br />
<i>in case we are soon to forget.</i><br />
<br />
you promise yourself you'll never do <b>this</b> again,<br />
and find yourself in the same exact position.<br />
it's all so familiar.<br />
these feelings aren't foreign anymore,<br />
and these situations aren't dreams.<br />
alcoholic relationships never work out.<br />
it starts with a lie and ends with another lonely drink at the bar<br />
hopelessly eye fucking your potential life partner.<br />
but what has this life become?<br />
shitty dance floors equal shitty relations?<br />
this record player is always skipping a damn beat<br />
and my feet aren't too tired just yet.<br />
we feel it all and nothing more when our vision is blurry.<br />
love wraps its hands around your waist and plants a kiss on your collarbone.<br />
mmm that sweet aroma it leaves behind, euphoric!<br />
another beautiful night to leave our not so beautiful lives behind.<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i><br /></i>
<i>we like that extra spicy feeling that makes us cry -</i><br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<i>tears of pain and makes our noses drip. </i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<i>that extra green sauce on the side</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<i>in case we are soon to forget.</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
:::VOMITS:::</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
you've done it again </div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
and you're pretty sure it wasn't you.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
why does it hurt to be so young and beautiful?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
why are these mirrors full of god forbidden lies?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
this beautiful girl is full of shit. </div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
full of the crap she ingests from impaired judgement.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
she gets it. she <b>always </b>has.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
there is no need to go above and beyond to make her feel unworthy.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
her worth was left on a bar stool </div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
and being sober isn't fun.</div>
<i><br /></i>
<i><br /></i>
<i>we like that extra spicy feeling that makes us cry -</i><br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<i>tears of pain and makes our noses drip. </i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<i>that extra green sauce on the side</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<i>in case we are soon to forget.</i></div>
ollieoxenfrass.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06122511695701201598noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5331520470868644157.post-73462313942706476612013-06-28T21:51:00.001-07:002013-06-28T21:52:12.419-07:00sitting and pondering all the energy i've manifested into my world and my being. constantly questioning purpose and existence. vessels with souls walking around this realm miserably misguided and confused. the voids we're trying to fill are bottomless pits of infinite ego trips. you see i see scenarios in all sorts of places and faced it. face it, you must face it. we feel sorry for ourselves. times are changing and we're in direct connection with all that's a reflection of the formless affection.
<br />
<br />
infections cause and effect us<br />
deflect us and permanently disconnect us<br />
with the truth and the creator<br />
be thy savior<br />
jehovah bless the masses behaviorollieoxenfrass.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06122511695701201598noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5331520470868644157.post-10106147589198660982013-04-23T06:04:00.001-07:002013-04-23T06:04:39.845-07:00lost for words.<br />
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: url(http://assets.tumblr.com/images/input_bg.gif); background-origin: initial; background-position: 50% 0%; background-repeat: repeat no-repeat; color: black; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.4; margin-bottom: 8px; margin-left: 12px; margin-right: 12px; margin-top: 8px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">
<div style="font-weight: normal;">
<span class="mceItemHidden">too many moments of silence. my lips are crazy glued together and i pray not forever. lost for words. trillions of word combinations dwindling and rotting around in my cranium. how do you do today? kill them all. please kill these ego tripping distractions. </span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal;">
<span class="mceItemHidden"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal;">
<span class="mceItemHidden">lost for words.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal;">
<span class="mceItemHidden"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal;">
<span class="mceItemHidden">literal, not fiction</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal;">
<span class="mceItemHidden"><br /></span></div>
<span class="mceItemHidden">this friction between us and <b>our</b> 'selfs' </span><br />
<span class="mceItemHidden">is cutting holes between<b> our </b>lives.</span><br />
<span class="mceItemHidden"><br /></span>
<i>lost for words</i><br />
lost four words<br />
<br />
is it i that hates and loves?<br />
non sense, the ego is potent<br />
in it's destruction.<br />
<br />
save i from i. </div>
ollieoxenfrass.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06122511695701201598noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5331520470868644157.post-49498929394100002182013-02-17T10:09:00.004-08:002013-02-17T10:09:26.241-08:00<i>heading in direction</i><br />
<i>of flamboyant affection</i><br />
<i>emotional conquistadors</i><br />
<i>shoving through these walls</i><br />
<i>of hidden fantasies</i><br />
<i>ripples crashing into thee</i><br />
<i>curled into fetal position</i><br />
<i>squeezing tight </i><br />
<i>trusting intuition</i><br />
<i>or failing foreseen mystical lover(s)</i><br />
<i>loving one another</i><br />
<i>from a distant</i><br />
<i>can't resist this</i><br />
<i>fluctuating misplacement</i><br />
<i>still holding on to the unknown</i><br />
<i>hearts are water balloons</i><br />
<i>exploding in chest</i><br />
<i>no lock, no key</i><br />
<i>their story is undressed.</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />ollieoxenfrass.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06122511695701201598noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5331520470868644157.post-9087135725089667182013-01-02T15:43:00.001-08:002013-01-02T15:43:18.947-08:00the older you get...the less you have.ollieoxenfrass.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06122511695701201598noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5331520470868644157.post-77084784492926762832012-06-18T14:47:00.001-07:002012-06-18T14:47:55.992-07:00uterus: forget i was here.<span style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; text-align: center;">lets skip the personal conversations, because that part of chivalry is dead and buried beneath an oak tree. let's not pretend like we're highly interested in personal desires and retirement plans, summers in Italy, and your family heirloom of engagement rings. routines are boring and so are we. lets just sit down with our glasses of wine and unwind. lets not pretend that you love me, because tomorrow you'll love someone else. please do not hold my hand whilst walking side by side. do not treat me like your mother and please do not send me flowers. lets not pretend to be a married couple and lets not pretend any of anything is real. throughout this entire scenario, there's a bit of enjoyment and hope dwindling in between heartbeats. the attraction is fading away and once again, we are empty. another scar is engraved along her arm, representing a deceased lover. </span>ollieoxenfrass.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06122511695701201598noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5331520470868644157.post-10891974891076257832012-05-18T09:38:00.001-07:002012-05-18T09:42:21.877-07:00<span style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; text-align: center;">i'm sunken to an ultimate low. down here i've seen my lost soul. we were torn apart several years ago and lost and forgotten. it hits hard, like a spaceship falling out of the sky and landing on my corpse. it hits hard, like drinking everyday for a decade and losing the feel of my legs. everything is numb. she keeps an extra smile in her purse 'in case of emergencies'. she's beautiful. when they speak of her beauty, a slight smirk is written across her mind. she knows the power she possess but chooses to withhold from using it. she's selling herself short and doesn't really care. </span>ollieoxenfrass.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06122511695701201598noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5331520470868644157.post-64685380126949847012012-05-18T09:20:00.000-07:002012-05-18T09:20:38.228-07:00<span style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; text-align: center;">her passion has died along side her soul, which lives in a shadow of darkness, ramon noodles and newports. over the years, her posture has sunken, for the world has completely consumed her. where's that pretty simile? they're always wondering....whats going on inside of her. who is this zombie? and what happened to those bright eyes? we are no longer interested.</span>ollieoxenfrass.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06122511695701201598noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5331520470868644157.post-49783738099690960502012-03-03T19:33:00.004-08:002012-03-03T19:39:46.964-08:00lost and forgotten: oh wandering child.<span style="color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; text-align: center; ">as easy as it seemed to be</span><div><span style="color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; text-align: center; ">we were lost and forgotten<br />you deleted me out of your life<br />and i tried to burn pictures of us.<br />but there's no escaping the internet<br />one might be an explorer<br />broken hearts galore<br />we are forever<br />at least upstairs...in my head.</span></div>ollieoxenfrass.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06122511695701201598noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5331520470868644157.post-66604859386035897292012-02-11T15:16:00.000-08:002012-02-11T15:32:24.385-08:00<span style="color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; text-align: center; ">lets hold hands and ambush the white house</span><div><span style="color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; text-align: center; "> show the administrative's what life is all about</span></div><div><span style="color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; ">rugged and drained</span></div><div><span style="color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; ">our eyes hold so much pain</span></div><div><span style="color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; ">and our ankles are swollen from their chains.</span></div><div><span style="color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; "><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; ">click clack went the barrel</span></div><div><span style="color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; ">we'll kidnap the president's daughter</span></div><div><span style="color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; ">and then slaughter their family pets</span></div><div><span style="color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; ">all for the sake of our income tax</span></div><div><span style="color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; ">which one of my people want next?</span></div><div><span style="color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; "><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; ">when their sleeping</span></div><div><span style="color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; ">we'll sneak up in their dreams</span></div><div><span style="color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; ">give 'em nightmares </span><span style="color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; ">of economic schemes</span></div><div><span style="color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; ">all for the love of coffee and cream.</span></div><div><span ><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; ">$$$.</span></div>ollieoxenfrass.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06122511695701201598noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5331520470868644157.post-48421385077835427052012-02-11T15:04:00.002-08:002012-03-03T19:40:52.447-08:00train daze.<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="white-space: pre; "> </span><span style="color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; ">i know it as if my world isn't breathing. i could feel it in my bones. crowded subway rides with cluttered minds. i would enjoy sleeping beneath the stars, among the pretend to be lvrs. it's been a long shift. here i stand on my own two feet...oh how i owe my soul my soul. astral projection, my heart is out of its mind for thinking outside itself. stop believing and everything shall come to pass. most mid-nights i wish i could explode into confetti. lets celebrate all rights reserved to the cycle of situations. my long to have an everlasting companion, shall be the continuance of existence. so extensive this conscious may be, i will not believe it. backs are turned so quickly. friends hit a dead end street and this shall be the end.</span></div>ollieoxenfrass.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06122511695701201598noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5331520470868644157.post-90903093496696457722011-12-27T19:06:00.000-08:002011-12-27T19:23:33.861-08:00climate.<span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><p style="color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; text-align: center; ">'..the beauty of life - the pain never lasts...' </p><p style="text-align: left;color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; ">i love how temporary pain is. the reality in which our worlds briefly exist, feels everlasting; and the exaggeration of it all portrays the surrealism of it's being. if you can see the bigger picture, you are capable of underlining the puzzle pieces. the biggest of features start off very subtle and expand into realistic portraits. it's all around us. everything is a heavy load of crap and we can't stand being happy. every waking moment is history in the making. that last hour, is now the past. the mistakes we made last night, should not be considered as early morning issues. why can't we forgive ourselves? why is it so difficult to forgive and love each other? the question is why? why is the love we once shared now lost and forgotten? </p><p style="text-align: left;color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; ">the cycle of suffering is endless. </p><p></p></span></span></span><p></p> <p><span><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"></span></span></p>ollieoxenfrass.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06122511695701201598noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5331520470868644157.post-78857983188612372612011-10-07T17:46:00.000-07:002011-10-07T17:56:31.247-07:00<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">half of you would love to restore shit back to it's original state, but thee other half totally disagrees and wants to forget it all. keep it pushing motherfucker. ego tripping in this motherfucker. looking back on things only delays the expansion process. what the hell does 'moving on' really mean? your mental compass is all tripped up, 'floating in and out of consciousness'. </span></span></span>ollieoxenfrass.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06122511695701201598noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5331520470868644157.post-38394838764654976582011-10-04T17:42:00.000-07:002011-10-04T17:59:10.344-07:00simple.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">i am indeed a really simple minded person. i am not as deep as the ocean floors, nor am i as high as the solar system. everything is really rather simple, depending on which angle you're observing from. teach yourself how to cook. it's as difficult as you're thinking it to be. take that time for yourself. trust me, i am not sure about anything. should we be allowed to ask questions that we can't even answer? what do you believe in? answers are still very skeptical and hesitant. nothing even matters. nothing truly exist. what's the point of anything? none. there is absolutely no point of anything. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">i've</span> come to an understanding that if my shoe lace is untied, or my hair is unkempt...it really doesn't matter. everything is temporary. make yourself as comfortable as possible while you're here, for it may be lost in the wind any second. </span></span></span>ollieoxenfrass.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06122511695701201598noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5331520470868644157.post-46093972975450841252011-09-29T18:44:00.000-07:002011-09-29T19:14:02.527-07:00understand.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">in emptiness, lie's everything. every answer to every question. every dream, ever dreamed. every motion in every scene. silence is the highest of the high's. what is important? it is so easy to write something, re-read it and quickly scratch it out, with the same utensil you used to begin with. words are the origin of communication and we're all speaking different languages. communication can be so beautiful, even if we can only understand bits and pieces. it works both ways, and in all directions. there are so many things i still wish i could understand. especially the cycles that continuously repeat within my life-time. all answers come from within. the knowledge is there, but the principles are failingg at being applied. so the question is how can we really truly understand if things remain the same? it's all up to us. especially you and I. </span></span></span>ollieoxenfrass.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06122511695701201598noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5331520470868644157.post-72420272978647909152011-09-29T18:40:00.000-07:002011-09-29T18:42:59.716-07:00<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; ">am i a horrible person? because i feel like it.</span>ollieoxenfrass.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06122511695701201598noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5331520470868644157.post-72886117624388162892011-08-03T12:04:00.000-07:002011-08-03T12:07:10.860-07:00oh joy oh joy<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; ">it’s another day on planet earth. far from the birth of my creation but thee whirl holes we’re facing..man things are far from complicated. we just make ‘em seem so…soo…on and on and on. imagination and day dreams can take us to infinite places of peace of mind. nothing is really real. el oh el. what is she saying? what are they telling us? I just hope it all becomes clear because there’s just so much mis(t).(ery).(education).(understanding).(guidance).(interpretation).(conceptions) and it proceeds.,..but donate to my needs and comfort my dis(ease).</span>ollieoxenfrass.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06122511695701201598noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5331520470868644157.post-58871078402567501462011-07-05T17:06:00.001-07:002011-09-29T18:44:01.010-07:00<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; ">...'words can not even express<div>this heavy boulder on my chest<div>and these panic attacks...fruck I think it's cardiac arrest...'</div></div></span>ollieoxenfrass.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06122511695701201598noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5331520470868644157.post-41152557976364355562011-05-25T18:51:00.000-07:002011-05-25T18:52:07.984-07:00x&y - coldplay<iframe width="480" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/64TDUvWF1xQ" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>ollieoxenfrass.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06122511695701201598noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5331520470868644157.post-50633739986957289262011-05-21T18:21:00.000-07:002011-05-21T18:28:46.984-07:00launDRY<div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><div><div style="line-height: 14px; font-size: 12px;">pages and pages<div>chapters and chapters</div><div>numbers, definitions, subtleties</div><div>serene empty spaces</div><div>filled with loving vibrations cycling throughout thought patterns.</div><div><br /></div><div><i>flinch!</i></div><div><br /></div><div>uncomfortable positions</div><div>undesired manifestations</div><div>but that smile...</div><div>raises all spirits.</div><div><br /></div><div>questionable answers,</div><div>there are never stupid questions.</div><div><br /></div><div>thee piano strikes <i>again!</i></div><div>harmonic chords of irrational entities</div><div><br /></div><div>why of course butterflies are beautiful...</div><div>is there any doubt?</div></div></div></span></span></div></div>ollieoxenfrass.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06122511695701201598noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5331520470868644157.post-15942535937328550312011-05-21T12:45:00.000-07:002011-05-21T12:50:49.910-07:00<div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><div><div style="line-height: 14px; font-size: 12px;"><div align="center"><blockquote></blockquote><div style="text-align: left;">sleeping, reading a book, listening to music, or walking around outside really clears my head and takes me away from any recurring negative thought pattern I may have. technology makes me feels the loneliest. </div></div></div></div></span></span></div>ollieoxenfrass.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06122511695701201598noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5331520470868644157.post-46431496759882312022011-05-21T06:13:00.000-07:002011-05-21T18:46:37.357-07:00cycle of ___<div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><div><div style="line-height: 14px; font-size: 12px;"><div style="text-align: left;">cycle of it all, often I still find myself second guessing....everything. I know I really need to sit down with myself and ask a series of questions. we're on this quest for nothing and something. the universe acts upon our thoughts, so the point of power is always in the present moment. stop complaining and deal with the truth. often I am so far out of reach, gurus pick up my denial before any mirror can. daydreams searching for 'the god light' and the 'satori' in the middle of Chinatown. wisdom fails to manifest and the knowledge is stranded. your list of desires, dreams, hopes, ceased hearts, start reacting like a chain of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">domino's</span>..and the feeling <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">that's</span> left is <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">empathetic yet uncertain. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"><b>world:</b> daydreamer won't you hurry along. </span>your shoelaces are untidy and you're stranded all alone, on an infinite journey.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">any idea...what it is you truly desire?</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"><b>persona: </b>you see i'm searching for something so uplifting, time itself will no longer exist. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>world: </b>my child, sometimes people are closer to the shore than they realize, but sail out farther from their senses. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div></div></span></span></div></div>ollieoxenfrass.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06122511695701201598noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5331520470868644157.post-83888027976925793012011-05-09T12:49:00.001-07:002011-05-09T12:51:01.021-07:00<div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><div><div style="line-height: 14px; font-size: 12px;"><div align="center"><blockquote></blockquote><div style="text-align: left;">"what's good with being the one, if you're the only one who knows it?"</div><div style="text-align: center;"> _J. cole</div><blockquote></blockquote> </div></div></div></span></span></div><div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><div><div style="line-height: 14px;font-size:12px;"></div></div></span></span></div></div>ollieoxenfrass.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06122511695701201598noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5331520470868644157.post-6658468464142749112011-05-01T14:58:00.000-07:002011-09-29T19:07:51.035-07:00every single day<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; ">People should realize how great and truly magnificent they are. You know what really bothers me? The roles our environments, society, and social media play within our lives. The level of influence that takes place within our subconscious, is irrational. We are all born great! There is no doubt about that! At what age does self doubt and feelings of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">unworthiness</span> start crawling into the picture? History really screwed us up! Everyone of us are victims of victims. Things have to change. Our children are growing up doubting their very greatness because parents/guardians are only reiterating their childhood, leaving one’s full potential a mystery. Imagine how great the world would be, if as children we were taught to love ourselves & in return we were loved unconditionally? Amazingly B-E-A-U-T-I-F-U-L-L.</span>ollieoxenfrass.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06122511695701201598noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5331520470868644157.post-54553142407123559952011-05-01T14:20:00.000-07:002011-05-01T14:57:05.767-07:00hello may 1st<div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><div><div style="line-height: 14px; font-size: 12px;">how are you doing? seems as if time is a distant passenger aboard a train. very interesting critter I've come across, but there is still no real connection. when I turn my head, my future romance has disappeared. far out of reach, my conscious starts to preach...</div><div style="line-height: 14px; font-size: 12px;"><br /><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">'<em>seems like time is soaring by...</em></div><div align="center"><em>as I stand here, bad posture and all</em></div><div align="center"><em>mistakes aren't subjected to be corrected -</em></div><div align="center"><em>but recognized and separated,</em></div><div align="center"><em>reasonably embraced and transfigured.'</em></div><div align="center"><em><br /></em></div><div align="center"><em></em> </div><div align="left">peach tree peach tree peace tree. realize the balance beam in which all bodies are present and restore any abnormalities. I'll love like no other (at least I'll try). the end of twenty-four hour drives are not to be found outside, so keep on cruising. </div></div></div></span></span></div></div>ollieoxenfrass.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06122511695701201598noreply@blogger.com0