Harlequin Checkerboard Snakeskin

The Joker from Batman R.I.P. is one of the creepiest you'll ever see. that's why he's one of my very favorites. <3

I love the images that Grant Morrison and Tony S. Daniel portray in Batman R.I.P. One comes to realize that Batman is just as crazy and broken has his nemesis. Not to mention the  awesome dialog they give joker. Some of my favorite Joker quotes come from this comic:

When shown an inkblot test, Joker sees himself slaughtering his enemies with a razor. Blood is everywhere. Gotham's gone mad with Joker toxin... the doctor asks him what he sees: "another pretty flower... another pretty flower."

When told that Batman is on his way to see him, Joker replies: "he's not here yet, is he? i don't want him to be here yet. my nails are still drying." He holds up his hands. He's painted them in alternating red and black. In this book, red is a symbol for life and black for death.

Batman finally confronts the Joker and he says:"... you got yourself into this whole horrible mess because you wanted to understand what it was like to be me *haha*. you think it all breaks down into symbolism and structures and hints and clues. no, batman, that's just wikipedia. you actually believed all it would take is a few chemicals a couple of days in a drug induced isolation and a cheap little mental breakdown and you'd have me all figured out? like there was some rabbit hole you could follow me down to understanding? *HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA!* welcome to where your soul dies!" Batman attacks him: "i.... i only want to help you understand... see, it's everything... *ghakk*... mom, dad, the job... oh batman, batman... let go... it's si simple... life... death... it's all a big joke. a dead man's hand and I hold the winning card! you really want to know how it feels to be the clown at midnight? where there's only ever one joke and it's always on you? well, here you are. now do you get it?"

Talking about batman: "every single time I try to think outside his toybox, he builds a new box around me. apophenia. I've been driven literally in.sane. trying to get him to loosen up. well, now... now it's your turn..."

Desperation:

                     to need to the point of hallucination; to want beyond the farthest reaches of human possibility; to hunger for something more; foolishness; hopelessness; starting to get careless; violently convulsing; on the floor; withdraws; too many deposits; bankrupt heart; slowing; slowing; deoxygenized lungs; can't breathe; can't breathe; my violet-ice bloodstream; nicotine; nicotine; no use; tears too dry to count.

Feb. 25 2011 (Pie.)

I have very strong feelings about pie.I hate pie. No- I LOATHE it. CRUST is NASTY. It just tastes like soggy crackers (I hate crackers, too.) In general, I don't like bready things at all. Yes, crackers and pie crust count as bread. The only bread I really like in the european stuff, or the kind with all the special healthy junk my mom buys (but that's too expensive so it doesn't really count.) Anyways, pie crust is nasty. I'd be fine with pie if it didn't have crust. But then it wouldn't be pie, I guess... it'd just be filling... but it's not filling unless it's inside crust... so I guess it'd just be sugary mush-stuff. Which I'm okay with as long as it's not paired with CRUST. Of course, graham cracker crust is okay- like on cheesecake and things (but that's not pie anyways...)- and oreo crust is great with chocolate pie :) But, overall, if I have to eat fruity sugary mush-stuff, I'd take cobbler over pie any day. Or cake. cake is amazing. <3

Feb. 23 2011

The world is hushed in the throws of love and cotton. Ringing ears and heads mean nothing when the mind goes deaf. The essence of silence rolls in as a choking sweetness. Takes the breath. The skin goes numb. The bandages unravel and the wound is revealed in the earth shaking sobs of a woman coming undone in her lover's arms.

I feel like an idiot...

Today, as i'm sure someof you have noticed, I attract alot of attention. My hair is not only green but is sticking straight up in a 6inch tall mohawk. I get some looks. and i get some comments... like this guy in the hallway that made me feel like an idiot.
He was a freshman (I could tell because he was half my size, had no facial hair and his voice was still a little squeaky) he said:"What's up, MAN?" His girl friends watching gasped in shock and awe. OMG (they were thinking) He's talkin' to that trans freak! I couldn't help but let a huge grin spread across my face. You could literally see all of my teeth. I kept walking... turned around (still walking - now backwards) and yelled "THANK YOU!"

What?
What did I say?
Why did I say "thank you" to "what's up, man?"
>.> umm... I feel like an idiot.
now this freshman thinks I'm completely incompetent...
and I probably spelled that wrong XP
anyways..

I said "Thank You" because that boy has no IDEA what the word "man" means to me. Even if it was just an accident or an insult or a conversation starter... IT MEANS THE WORLD TO ME <3

Head Talk

Gas station. Perfect. How long's it been since it was in workin' order? Let's see... bombs hit in '58... I've seen at least 17 winters... Hell, 's been nearly 2 decades! Good thing petroleum don't go bad.
Sh*t! What-if the tank's done pumped dry?! Damn outsiders... hoarders, fear mongers, filthy rats hole'n up in their filthy shacks...
car needs gas... car needs gas...
Why'd I have to end up with this hunk'a metal? Junk. That's what it is... and it sucks up the fuel like nobody's business...
Damn car. Damn gas...

F**K! Damn thing's bone dry! Bastards! No good bastards! What the HELL am I supposed to do with this pile of scrap metal with 'n empty tank?!

...this sh*thole got any liquor...

Feb. 16 2011

Softly. Softly.
Quietly. Quietly.
Secretly.
Silently.
Hush.

(hush.)

Time like sweet honey
dripping from the mouth of a sweet stranger
as if you don't have a care in the world.

Butterfly kisses.
Rasberry-bloodstain lipstick.
10 talons.
Thousands of tiny little razors...

Feb. 18 2011 "Guns and Flowers"

Was it Watchmen that had the opening scene with the hippie putting the flowers in the barrel of a rifle? Yeah, it was. It's such a powerful image. It always makes my heart jump when the shots ring out and the flower bursts. It makes me want to cry. I've thought about getting it tattooed on me but I don't know how it would be placed to look right. Maybe an AK-47 with a daisy on my ribcage going down past my hip too? idk... I've always wanted a hippie tattoo on me cuz I grew up as one (lol, I'm still a hippie!) XD I love the movie Hair:the musical, but the play is SSOoOOooo much better. "Let the Sunshine In" always makes me cry (it's the main song at the end of the play). I thought about getting some of the lyrics from it on me too. Come to think of it, the flower/rifle & quote combo would look great together. :) here's some possible quotes:

-"Let the Sunshine In"
-"Let the Sun shine"
-"facing a dying nation of moving paper fantasy"
-"listening to the new told lies of supreme visions of lonely tunes."

Rain.

Paradise is in her arms- the girl with sunshine in her eyes. Promises of her warm embrace are the only things that beckon me out of my solemn silence:
She's ot there, Bullets.
The acid-rain clouds whisper secrets- dropping bittersweet kisses down from heaven. The poison burn lingers on the skin. Scarring. Tastes like a mix of sugar and cyanide. The soft *tink! tink!* of the drizzle (so familiar) accompanied by the unsettling sizzle of eroding flesh and metal.

(Rain, rain. Go away. Come again another day...)

I swore I'd save her...
The rain may persist, but I'll never back down.

Love may be a crazy thing, but PROMISES, PASSION, and PERSISTENCE are what will kill m in the end.
The Devil's tears burn like Hellfire.

(Rain, rain. Go away... Let the sun come out to play...)

Bullets.

Clostrophobia. You've never experienced it 'til you've been roped to a table- gagged- and left to await your fate. Walls closing in. Dark. Hands at my sides writhing. Lungs betraying me- constricted. Heart pounding- failing.
PANIC! PANIC! PANIC!
panic to your heart's content, but you're never getting out alive!
(Quiet, you lunatic piece of sh*t...)
Movement past a door. that faceless bastard...
*click!click!click!* of boots on concrete. Sounds like more than two feet. 4 maybe 6 boots...
louder. Louder. LOUDER. until-
*BOOM!* the door goes down in a cloud of dust and the light rolls in like smoke.
"How's our little angel?" grizzly growls from behind dark masks. Three monster carrying pistols and hungry stomachs. The gag dislodges from my jaw and out stream the threats... stupid!
"FILTHY RATS! GET ME THE F**K OUT OF HERE OR, I SWEAR, I'LL-"
"You'll WHAT, honey?" The faceless one that dragged me here seems to be the only one with a voice. He cocks his gun, spreads my left hand out on the table beside me. His cold, meetal weapon pins down my palm, "You'll KILL us?"
*BANG* Flames lick at my throbbing nerves- taunting.
(I'm so F**KING stupid!)
Blood gushes from the wound. I bite my lip in agony.
Laughter ensues from the mouths of the monsters. Barking hyenas...
This is their idea of a good time. And their not-so-harmless fun mixed with my uncanny ability to offend makes for the battle-scar of a lifetime.
(Jesus... why?)
You don't know pain 'til you've been mauled by a bullet...
I'm made of bullets.
I AM PAIN.

February 11th 2011

Quietly. Silently.
Inching. Inching forward. (floor-tile by floor-tile.)
Step on a crack, break you mother's back...
Quicken your pace.
Feel you heart racing. Racing.
Caffinated blood-flow pumping. Pumping.
Through nicotine-constricted roadways...
Filling up that empty space you once called a body.
Head spinning.
Spinning.
Spinning out of control...

February 9th 2011

This school is a wasp nest, populated with drones of blood thirsty, ruthless fiends waiting for the littlest disturbance to make them uncomfortable so they have an excuse to attack. Dive in for the kill. 5 thousand stingers come to tear my goodwill down. But I WON'T STAND DOWN. WE WON'T BREAK DOWN. (cuz we fight back.) Who hates me enough to mock me like this? They're out there... in here... walking these halls... furious for some reason locked up deep inside themselves, unapparent to the naked eye... Who's to tell me I can't be me? That I can't hope for people to understand?
Disrespectful.
Bias.
Closed Minded.
Control Freaks.
Are you telling me that I'm inappropriate?
Am I offensive to you?
Well, I'm not going to appologize for your own arrogance if that's what you want.
Ignorance.

We stand together in the name of TRUTH & ACCEPTANCE.
(what do you stand for? HATE?)

Dexter is pretty much my favorite TV show :)

Write a letter to yourself in 10 years:

Dear self (it's weird to call yourself "dear"),
... goodness, there are so many questions to ask... uh, how's 27 treatin' yuh? >_> hmm... this is kinda awkward. Anyway, I guess I should ask some deep, thought provoking questions that remind you/me of how lame I was/am as a teenager. Did the world end in 2012? Are you currently fighting to survive a nuclear winter? Not gunna lie, that'd be pretty awesome. Have you killed any zombies yet? No? Hmm, bummer... have you at least gotten a tattoo? I'd think so because I'm planning on gettiong one before the apocolypse. Do you still obsess over the Joker? Oh! was the third Nolan Batman movie any count?! I don't think he can ever top the Dark Knight. And how about Mass Effect 3? Does Commander Sheparddefest the Reapers and save Earth? Do you get the option to pursue a lesbian romance with Jack, or is Bioware still a bunch of heartless sons-of-witches? How's the progress on the whole "trans*" thing? Am I a boy yet? (Please say yes)... How's Niki? Is she out of school yet? I love her so much <3. Did we ever move to Boston? Please tell me we're not still stuckin Kentucky! That's the one thing I want to do as soon as possible: move. There's no opportunity here. Please get me out of here... Please, I'm begging you- get me to a place with more people like me/us/YOU! It's for our own good, you know.

With Love,
Indigo (but you already knew that)

February 4th 2011

A natural born survivalist. (like you've gotta be when you're born into this sh*thole) Ever viglilant. (I'm impressed) She is rough, perhaps even more so than me. And,God, she's beautiful... just like her mother. But her face is tougher, jaw tighter- on edge. A tarit she has inherited from this wasteland wilderness... and probably from my genetic arrogance. She has a mouth on her. Quiet, but when she does speak she doesn'ttake any sh*t. Not for me. Not from anyone.
Pale hair whiplash. Calloused fingers caress a trigger. Wreckless, loaded barrel pressed nearly into my brains- threatening.
"What the F**K do you want, old man?!"
Spit sprays my cheek. (Furious.)
Sunshine and Bullets.
I could get used to this.

February 3rd 2011

Tonight the sun goes dark around the world. Radio-static clouds blur the senses. we've been blinded- muted- deafened... our perception slaughtered in the onslaught of perpetual thunder. In this new, tainted world, all you've got is your own thoughts- cuz we can't just talk- we've gotta be virtual, don't we? And so we're left to our dwindling, dishevelled imaginations. Have to build them up, I guess- fill out our brains again. Re-learn to think for ourselves. So hard, since we've been sucking endless information through a straw from the day they could pry our jaws apart.