Thank You For The Apathy.

Words take thought. Thought takes effort. Most are on a blood thirsty crusade to argue the semantics of both. Hilarity and Depression seem to fornicate right in the Middle.

I’m feeling destructive.

DIVORCE.- LIFERS

Head2wallrecords.bigcartel.com for pre-orders.

DIVORCE.- LIFERS

Head2wallrecords.bigcartel.com for pre-orders.

DIVORCE. - LIFERS Full Stream.

So. 17 year old fat, punk Josh is losing is his collective mind. Our (DIVORCE.) album ‘LIFERS’ is finally available to stream and listen to. This is all in thanks to Punknews.org hosting it for us.

Also our debut cassette is up for pre-order at head2wallrecords.bigcartel.com

You can get limited edition Red tapes or the super limited run of see-through smoke tapes. Everyone’s support has been amazing and I can’t thank everyone enough. Please reblog, please pre-order the album, or just listen and tell a friend. Thank you so so so so so much.

A New Project: Working Thoughts.

(As written in order from top to bottom)

In the mornings we’ve spent apart,
There has been talks of
Complications in each of us.
To be honest, as the morning plays along, I look towards the tally marks
I’ve been keeping of the bad shit
We seem to think about ourselves.
To measure against the good would be a waste of time.

But I’m the best waste of time
that I’ve found.
And so are you.

I wouldn’t know a thing about burdens.
But I sure as heaven know that you do.

I’m a massive complication in the head.
I’m a light that’s dulled
And ridden with bugs.
Yellow from the smoke of every
Speechless, drunk disciple
Who’s forgotten their own name.
They knew their place is where they sit
Dimly lit and tired from doing nothing
To make it better.

And it will get better.

At least that’s what they say from across the street.
Holding hands with an upright man
Who’s already got it figured out.
That’s a fake sense of comfort.

But who am I to judge?

Because I can barely see that
My own teeth have started to bleed
From the worry that I’ve been rotting
Into and older age I swore
I didn’t want.
Now my knees are locked and bent
Asking to never leave the life
I couldn’t appreciate.
The sky is bending and behind my neck
The wind is getting colder.
The calendar is looking dyslexic,
I couldn’t tell you the day I was born
Let alone what hour tomorrow brings.
But be sure to keep asking
Against
And again
And again
Until my eyes can shake the glaze and
My jaw can break the coral
encrusting it in permanent place
When I finally say:

"No worries. It’s fine."

Wrote for the first time in a while. Located bellow.

I took a hit of the wine in the passenger seat as we passed penetentery.
I didn’t feel sympathy knowing we were all incarcerated in our own ways and at least they’re secure which is the last thing I’m feeling but I know they aren’t gonna listen so ill. Pretend to call for a second and try to hate you but all I can hate is the massive complication behind my jaw that’s burning with every sip of alcohol I said I was done with. Well I’m back and if everyone gets to leave behind the goals they set well id rather join them because if I don’t thing I’m beating is my self over and over and over and that’s what I’ve decided I’m done with. So if you’re done then I’m done and I’m going to live and try to love because quoting only leaves me more alone and believe me when I say I think I’m starting to realize what I deserve and it cracks my head in half with a warm hammer and lets the rain of positivity hit every nerve in my body.

But only for tonight because tomorrow I’ll wake up dried out and empty regretting the missed calls that I have and taking all the pills I flushed down the toilet just fall In line and wish for another night in the passenger seat. It’s amazing what I can’t remember and the sentences I’ve chosen to forget and I’m scared of every night but no ones asking if the lights were allowed to go out. They weren’t and torches are lit behind my eyes but no ones around no no one is ever around to see the spatter of light I’m burning the wood paneled walls with.

I’m not questioning why I keep going any more. I just do and that’s enough to be proud of. I’m enough to be proud of.

At least that’s what I say when I can’t explain why you’re not here.