occupational hazard..

i start training for asst. fashion designer with a private label "completely organic" company tomorrow..

i'm sleepy, excited, nervous, enthralled, intense, scuurrred, sure, positive & down right gimme gimme damn ecstatic.

dedicated to : baby steps...

i miss.

dub club & our many wednesday nights spent dancing w/ eyes closed to the beat.



dedicated to : the dance goons brigade.

g r e e d

i'm at a disadvantage these days
a momentary loss between words
record scratched, heart has been hacked
with a love sonnet type of beat
but i'm lost in transit & remembering the instant
my mind crossed over and forgot to inform you
i've made my bed with a messy type of form
our awkward conversation left me yearning for a tad more
so i'm waiting..

i'd love to experience each instant
even those that leave me quivering with fear
greed is that of green thoughts mistaken
for our instinctual planned love affair
with ourselves each day...
with ourselves each day...
i have something you'd give up your life for..

and its addictive.

a little about us

so i've been a horrible "blogger" these days.
well, more like "we've been horrible bloggers"..
see, there is a background behind "funeral parade"
and a family of people.

it all started as a joke.

looky loo eyes formed opinions of us as a whole.
and by "us" i mean the following :

taide, sheena, danielle, daniel and somewhat samantha [the lil sis]

now, we're all very different individuals
but all similar in the fact of our love for one another..
all very driven cats with a soft spot for that of artistic nature.
danielle the record spinner, writer y tahitian dancer..
taide the artistic fashionista, writer y deep thinker
sheena the ink stained fingertipped, designer y dreamer
daniel the "scumbag" as we call, musician y surfer / chill fellow.
& somewhat samantha the lil sis.. actress / writer..

no where near "dark"
but when put together our "poetic justice" comes off as "dark" to some..
now, when you truly know us, you truly know this is thee furthest thing from the truth you could possibly come by.. we love all, trust a few too many.. and live our lives tomorrow by tomorrow.. patience is NOT our virtue. dontchaknow? oh and we have inside jokes for more than anything, most of what comes out of our mouths are pure nonsense... dont take us seriously, well.. too seriously.. well, no no i take that back, TAKE US SERIOUSLY FOOLS!

all in all i gotta say...
funeral parade means : to enjoy every waking moment on our trip of life.. you never know where your final destination will await you or when. E X P E R I E N C E & F U C C I N L I V E Y O U G O O N S !

now that that is all cleared up...

Long Beach awaits us this weekend..
mama d, we miss you - leave the bay and join us again..

a corner crush

im brainwashed.
with ideas,
with hallucinations
with fantasmic realistic moments
of the moment.

what am i talking about?
a dream that is..
or am i?

went to the library today
to feed off some free inspiration
i opened book after book
of word after word
spoken word this
and poetic justice that
but all i could find
was a paper thin book from
some unknown author
that reminded me,
of me.

how quaint.

inspiration has been overflowing
from my soul,
my soul marked territory
called a jagged penmanship
i've begun to mistake for someone else's
who am i these days?

who truly knows..
but i'd like someone to investigate
knock my senses clean
with a list of adjectives
describing my sense of being
you dig?
or so i say..
you did?
or so i pray..

i had a moment last night
you sitting in the corner while i danced my heart away
i wish i had the courage..
that courage most girls have with a crush
to utter a few words with confidence..
and make you fall in love
with me.
or so i say..
with my mind
or so i pray..

but its good.

but, its good.

and im good..
or so i say.

l o v e

i have fallen in love with LA all over again..
thought i could leave.. but i just can't.
i think i just needed a break to clear my head..
im in a lovey dovey type of mood..
don't know why..
________

but i’m looking for that addictive love
not that possessive or dramatic or materialistic type of "love"
i’m looking for that gut chearning,
butterfly turning..
music forming from your insides
type of love..
a natural muse so my words may flow right..
your body finding it impossible to remain still
when a passion drivin dance is the natural kill of your sanity
a spoken thought that inspires the addicts craving a fix
an addictive love..
only a soul mate can mix

my coffee is extra strong today..

and boy do i need it.

emotional drags turned inspirational moments.
its a 1 year plan.. we're on this 1 year plan.
and so far, its working..
seeing as we began merely yesterday.

you must start somewhere though right?
right.

tired of the same scene
and she's tired of the same people
tired of the same opportunities
just kinda tired.

i try mind fucking myself by altering my state
not with substance but with words..
"im lucky & we're lucky & life is amazing"
but sometimes you just wanna have a bad day!

funny thing is, i only write in this blog
when in a bad mood...
i must come off like a depressed lil monkey.

im quite happy, trust me!
im quite the optimistic free-spirit..
but along with the "free-spirit"
comes emotions.. that i am ever so familiar with.
i just want to run away for a while..


go visit d in berkley so we can go to veronicas restaurant
she talks about going to for her birthday this april.
i miss my friends.. and having them at fingertip grasp..
and i miss summer at the beach..
w/ my lil body to go along with the black bikini i plan on buying.

i think im gonna slurp down this coffee...
then hit this inspirational block head on
and get these blasted skirts done.

whos up for a road trip? ;)

q u e s t i o n

so when do you want to talk?

l o n g b e a c h  - has my <3

lettuce w/ that?

i'm sick of being sick of being sick of being sick of.

dig?

i miss the smell of the over abused air

that blasted smog polluted wind & fizzy 'do from

too much damn moisture in the sky.

manipulated taxed driven parking spots

where v a l i d a t i o n is the smile of our morning

over drawn accounts & broken atms

"do you have a pen? cause i need a pen.. but i don't have a pen,

even tho i claim i'm a poet"

dig?

i crave that feeling you get when you feel

at home.

at peace.

at center.

with your surroundings & your lover loverlees

cause i'm sheeluvlee for that reason.

i mean.

i just want us to be.

not be too awkward

not be too much

not be in love or lust or hate or fuck or forced

or anything.

i just want to be.

dig?

dig.

my sister just called me a chalupa.

words.

inproper posture.
mistaken grin.
cheese winning
flee spinning
ill adequate
type of tone.
but i'm addicted..
or so i say.

misinterpreted gestures.
butterfly effect.
recycled picture
in the back of my head
memory fades on cue
manipulation bids adeu
and i'm addicted..
or so i feel.

permanent handicap
vibrant goosebump effect
tingling fingers
& a scent oh so sweet
yet oh so familiar
and oh so naive.
you make me hate you
and i'm addicted..
or so you think.

flirtatious grins
pleading sins
begging to be heard
drunken touchy "feelyness"
at the side of my fingers
fingertips intertwined
in that love type of grasp
you confuse my mind
but i'm addicted..
or so i plead.

no air left to breathe
no vowels left to speak
no nerves to be touched
and no minds to be made up
over done and over used
abused, ridiculed & left to dry
in that "best friend"
type of love song.
but i'm addicted...
or so i scream.

sunshine of the spotless mind me.
take my eyes and filter the sight
twist my mind and erase the spots
rewind and delete rewind and delete
rewind.
and,
rewind.
and..
but i'm addicted.
but i'm addicted.
an involuntary type of love.
free me.

will you please?
for fucks sake will you please.

class in session, fools!

ugh.
ive been procrastinating. or rather,
ive been lazy... to write A-N-Y-T-H-I-N-G!
miss. luvlee has given me homework.
lets hope i ace this course.

you must write about the following :
1. mug shots.
2. effects of alcohol to your mind.
3. lack of inspiration.
4. fucked up friends.
5. overdue heartbreak.
6. lengthy love.
7. escaping reality.
8. a carrot.
9. manipulation.
10. a mirror.

and you must write about the following at least 2 times per week for the next month.
your due date is : april 2nd.
and you can not use fools day as an excuse.

I. EXPECT. RESULTS !
have fun my dear. <3




i dont know about fuc'd up friends, but my bestest better roll out to lbc this weekend.
im predictiong boozed up hooligans wanderin' the streets making history.

dont step in human shit

i wish

i could "sunshine of the spotless mind" myself
right now.

a cosmo sounds de-li-cious & nutricious.

f u c k

keep me away from anything internet, cell or even smoke signal related
while drinking.

i have a fucking problem!!
did i even know i posted the blog below?
no.

i'm in love with you taide!
when are we gettin married? ;) haha.

s

do you ever just feel... not good enough?
no matter what you do or say
how you act or look..
you're just not good enough.

well, i do right now.

d r u bk

it's amazing.
everyone drinks.
we imagine this other prson we are
im drunk so my spe.lling is horrile
but we im thinking this.
we imagine this persoin we are
we thtink this pewrons that drank a horrendpuis
armount and we jusat sit here and pya our games t
its chill.
i receoveid a leteter from afrid tinitgghtol. i gota go sew wmhytat he sadi.
xo.
0 sheens

t o d a y

i'm tired.
yawn.

- s

attention

to all you fake bitches out there.
and yes, i said "bitches"
get some self respect.
this is a ranting type of scene
your sunglasses form 2 years ago
fake ass features and cut up creatures
its depressing.

smile your shiny white grill
and hide that inprovised feeling
for one more day and one more moment.
as much as i hate looking at people like you
all i want to do is give you a hug
smack the shit outta you
and tell you this one simple phrase.

"wanting to be someone you're not, is a waste of the beautiful person you are."- kurt cobain [yeah i added beautiful.. thought i'd update it]



W O R D

community service

i finish my final 3 hours, today.
177.5 hours with 10 hrs credit for detox [mugshot what]
166.5 hours walking out the court house..
and i have 3. hours. left.

a wrong choice turned
wrong turn formed
my life for
these past 4 months..
but i'm lucky.
honestly.. i'm truly lucky.

i've learned a tremendous amount
gained a ton of knowledge..
and know not one thing happens without a reason..

but,
it's somewhat depressing to think most people will never experience volunteering for the sake of.

too many people "less fortunate" and if we all pulled together long enough to feel something further than our "stressful shituations of everyday life" we'd actually make a difference..
and no im not trying to get all wishy washy sappy wappy on your butt..
i've simply been doing a ton of soul searching in these past months
and have realized how truly selfish we as people are.
its a natural and birth given trait..
but it doesnt make it right.. or attractive nonetheless.

so as i write off these last 3 hours..
i choose to not make this my last day..
but my first day willingly helping out.

is that funeral parade enough for you?

makeadifference.org
mtvu_cause effect
bigbrothers_bigsisters

[just to name a few]

missing, you've gone missing

locked in this mood and i can't get out.
shouting and shouting praying to be thrown out.
im fucking irrational and half gone insane
this all far too clear
a wee bit too near
somewhat too relative to label me
but i do it anyway.
or so we say

a witty insomniac
i have this wound far too deep
writing the key with no form of a beat
i'm falling face first in a sand filled too quick
a quick filled with sand errr a quick sanded grasp

a god damn soap opera spree
its that :

love saking,
heart breaking
finger cracking
teeth chattering
unwelcome mindset
to be real.

fuck this feeling i've recycled in my mind
i choose to rewind i choose to rewind !!
and erase those words
mumble and jumble those verbs
disform what you heard
about us.

i want the old us back.
i want the old us back.
i need the old us back.
for my sanity.

february 22nd, 2008

insane how one night.. with your loved ones.. can bring so much positivity to your soul. i've been starving for just a few hours of familyhood for my livelihood and as i'm not full.. or even content.. i'm a step away from starvation.

my birthday was perfect. even the blown out of proportion emotional breakdown with a certain someone.. much needed to keep my heart clear of haze. the fog has settled and i'm sippin some coffee.. waiting for the next dose of that funeral parade sweet tooth cure.

i am in love with these people.

my friendship soulmates. how did i ever become so fucking lucky? who knows.. but i am.

happy birthday to meeeee !

it's our birthdays. taking one more step in our parade...
a reunion and movement to bring in zee new year correctly..

this will be novel worthy.

miss. d

d & d, san francisco.

13 days in counting..

this is a story about assholes.

today, last year, i woke up handcuffed sitting in the back of a police vehicle.
today, i woke up to my cat lucy [aka lucifer] meowing outside my bedroom door.

ive got many homes, my homes away from home. la superior courthouse, departments, police stations & programs.
i want one home, but my leases arent up for another seven months.

"i have no money, no resources, no hopes, but i'm the happiest man alive."-henry miller

word on the street is..

... we're throwing a party?


in a few weeks d will be flying in from the bay.
in a few weeks sheeluvlee will be getting old.
in a few weeks im gonna get shit drunk.

this is a story about d. or rather, fp.

d has a friend, or should i say, non friend named lisa.. or layyashdflasf something with an "L"
for the sake of this story, we'll refer to her as homegirl aka dumb bitch.
homegirl thinks us fp kids are down right satanic worshipers because we have a passion for art, fashion, readin' & writin', haha.. even thrift store shopping(<--evil), music, oh how we love music, and dancing.. just to name a few.
although its only the opinion of one, she has decided to judge us based on our myspace profiles? our photos? cos the girl has never met us.
the silly thing is, all of us, we're quite normal. half of us are all lovey-dovey, peace not war, lets frolic down the hill side holding hands singing kumbaya. then theres the other half, okay, we're kinda bad. as in sleazy, but that dont mean satan's my daddy, dumb bitch.
in this day and age, who's anti-creativity. dont you write for a living anyways?

we may not seem it, but we are sweethearts.

so they say on the streets.