awkward-insanity

Matt

10 Watchers39 Deviations

3.2K

Pageviews

Latest Deviations

See all

isthiswhatonecalls cynicism? by awkward-insanity, literature

Literature

isthiswhatonecalls cynicism?

i've hopelessly concluded that nothing will change. it's like we're all simply putting up false impressions; stylish facades encompassing an array of deviated intention. sometimes i can see a grimace behind smiling eyes. winces of hesitation, scorned contemptible demise. something which leads me to question and wonder whether they appreciate my attempts, or favor another. there's always some sort of tongue in some sort of cheek. some sort of lie springing some sort of leak. and i'll stutter and explain and backtalk to correct, and convince myself that there's truth, spitting imitation to object. and it always works! so when people

shifty eyes by awkward-insanity, literature

Literature

shifty eyes

banging. like a head against a wall. a visual veneer. playing. stepping on one's own heels. curling toes, kicking away footprints. staring at the backs of necks. of knees. watching fingernails grow. and legs shake. dry gums sticking to the backs of upper lips. dry tongues sticking to barren mouth roofs. pounding neck pulses, abrupt struggling breaths. slip slipping, temper tantruming. the guilt creeping in! like parasites! humor them, just humor them. i exist in a constant state of faking it. accidents dictate incidental motives; motions. a yolk addressing a sea of boiled eggs. nose diving into a puddle. stomachaches and spit

wake up n smell the rebellion by awkward-insanity, literature

Literature

wake up n smell the rebellion

The Average Angsty Antics of a Teenage Rebel-Fuck - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Part I- Fed Up I can't can't can't can't fucking take it. What in the hell is going on here? The decisions are lacking... The walls are cracking... Our stability is frowning from ear to ear! Society needs a rebuild, off of a rebound of discontent. The friendly smiles and glowing faces have faded into cement. We're jaded, shocked, and stunned. It's blatent we need a change! Some spunk, some sass...that's it! Some sass will rearrange! This town, it's missing fingers. Like a paraplegic on parade. My optimism and glea

yes sir no sir by awkward-insanity, literature

Literature

yes sir no sir

I hope this is an attention grabber. I hope this keeps you on the edge of your seat. It's hard to express and explain the circumstances. And how such sorrow could just change to a moral deprived mal-adjusted hybrid. My mind just runs...it runs and runs and RUNS. Like my conscience is a broken record And my self-conscience is always strung out on play It hurts, you know? This isn't foreign, no, not at all. But after all this time, the pressure's just a greater buildup. Maybe I'll kill myself for a good laugh Or slash my arms up for a chuckle or two It'll sure grab the attention, huh. I never intend to offend. Everything just is.

fuck or fight by awkward-insanity, literature

Literature

fuck or fight

It's hell out there, they tell us. Fuck or fight, fight or flight. It's a concrete jungle of ill-tempered monkeys. Ready to throw fists if not allowed their bananas. It's insane out there, they tell us. Kill or be killed, survival of the prettiest. We must chlorinate these gene pools. Reproduce to survive. It's raining cats and dogs. It's raining blood and guts. It's raining shallow puddles in which to wallow. The hail is smacking the pavement and the apes are going buck-wild. Someone'll get hurt tonight. There's enough alcohol to laugh about it in the morning. It's hell out there, they tell us. Fuck of fight, fight or flight.

0807's feelings by awkward-insanity, literature

Literature

0807's feelings

Comedy these days is such a joke. Larry The Cable guy makes me angry. Commenting on household products. And how they don't work to his redneck appeal. Goddamn. I'd rather take some Zak and Sara. And sit an eat rice cakes. And squeeze my 35 dollar pillow. And think about the army. And how I could never fight for my country. I'd rather be an artist. Or a writer. Or a guy that makes rubber bouncy balls. I could do anything. I could see everything. I could be a politician. And reform what's out there. I could be an artist and grow a gotee. The fact that there are endless freedoms out there, Blows my goddamn mind. I could play

silence the sirens by awkward-insanity, literature

Literature

silence the sirens

--Calling all cars I want them alive Scrape the teeth against the pavement I want bloodstains Calling all cars They're running with arms flailing Catch them you fools They're making trackmarks as you barely footprint They're gatorading and getting away Harness this organized noise They cannot go unpunished Calling all cars We see them flying without a reason Apathetic whines of discontent Catch them you fools They're popping popcorn and choking down hard liquor It shouldn't be hard now It's almost over now Calling all cars Catch the beating hearts behind the face of madmen...madboys. I want these animals' cheeks against th

rock 'em sock 'em by awkward-insanity, literature

Literature

rock 'em sock 'em

She's a black lung drinking diet coke With no good sense of intention He's a Full Metal JackASS Everyone are just rock 'em sock 'em robots It's all this moral diplomacy Depleting their thin layer of stability Her strong scent of potpourri Leaves his scarred wrists savage And we're all just rock 'em sock 'em robots Along for the ride in this unstable disability This roller coaster of emotion and melancholic love sickness Watch them suffer and teeter to the edge of extinction Better wave goodbye before your neck hits the sky. . .

wonderman by awkward-insanity, literature

Literature

wonderman

He was conceived with gallons of strife She didn't cry against the knife She didn't whimper, or pout, or scream He was rotten, dirty, and mean. She had habits, and liked to flirt He liked to walk around in a skirt And dance and twirl and jump and skip. And tumble and whirl and twist and dip Superman had an iron lung and a liver made of steel His dessert consisted of 2 smokes and some wine, after every meal It seemed as if she was invisible And he was decaying and crude When he felt depressed, he'd throw on a dress And the lipstick would change his mood So out on the town, Superman felt like Wonder Woman And Wonder Woman felt li

See All

Featured Gallery

See all

Saturday Nights by awkward-insanity, literature

Literature

Saturday Nights

Saturday Nights Are For The Lonely I'm swimming in my own self pity Sitting alone in my desolate room Staring hopelessly into space Wondering what life would be If I was out of this place The redundancy of gazing at my ceiling is getting trendy These four white walls closing in as beads of sweat crawl under my skin Scraping, cutting, feels so good As my friends hit on girls that turned me down And I sit home alone crying poison unwanted tears. I want to runaway and escape Break through these killer thoughts dripping through my brain 8 shots of Zoloft and I'm on my own highway I wear my scars like a crown.

Humans Kill by awkward-insanity, literature

Literature

Humans Kill

She sits alone. She doesn't understand what went wrong. What she ever did to feel this way. The gun can decide her future for her. Clenching her teeth tight she picks it up and thinks. Blood rising to her head, adrenaline pumping, she thinks. Is it worth it? Who will she exactly hurt? No one seems to care so when her life ends, who will exactly be concerned? All of these questions can be answered with the pull of a trigger. She stumbles to the bathroom. Pukes, and throws herself onto the bed. The gun still rests upon the table, choosing her fate. She stares at it, and thinks. Why was she made this way? As being "normal" in her m

The First Date by awkward-insanity, literature

Literature

The First Date

Linked together by common miseries Connected by the wrists we once cut before Maybe it's fate...or just luck Every time I'm around you I want to shoot the butterflies in my stomach And stop my feet from tripping over themselves Tongue-tied and hair messed up perfectly You say I'm beautiful lift my spirits. As I walk alone with you right beside me, I wonder why you follow. Immensely bored with silent minds and so much to talk about, I sit staring into empty space with you staring back at me I get up, you tag along. You're too good for me, or maybe I'm just blinded by the fact that you're here. While you ramble on about old boyfrien

The Road To Nowhere by awkward-insanity, literature

Literature

The Road To Nowhere

Works been hard for him these days. 9 to 5, overtime on minimum wage. Works been hard for him these days. Something new to break this daze. Stuck in traffic on the Hollywood freeway. Hoping life would be different someday. Driving drowsy down this dead end road. This road to nowhere. Turning the corner, half asleep. He eyed the girl standing at the peak. His hand on the stick, eyes on the road. Why he hit her, nobody knows. Rage in his eyes, foot on the pedal. Slashed her in the legs, skin against metal. He slammed on the gas, slapped on a grin And bellowed a laugh...when her head caved in. Blood on his windsheild, guts on the

Puppets by awkward-insanity, literature

Literature

Puppets

Well to start off. There\'s people in the world. People in the world that scam. People in the world that will cheat, steal, do whatever it takes to make a quick buck. There\'s people in the world. Who wanna strike it rich, spit out rhyming nonsense, and get thrown bundles of cash just to strip and dance like mindless drones. A record label\'s puppet, a silly action figure. There\'s people in the world that criticize. There\'s is best, our's is worst, just to scurry up some dimes. Money is the objective, passion pushed aside. Skill is thrown to the gutter and replaced with lost dignity and pride. Just as long that cash is thrown to

Singe by awkward-insanity, literature

Literature

Singe

A small but...of a cigarette. Usually kicked into the damp gutter just to roll down the sewer and left to rot with rats and such. When looked closer at, a ring of lips around it… just itching to tell a story. The history behind these lips is so intricate, quite impossible to blatantly seen by the human eye. A middle-aged working mother. Two children. Smart, but easily fooled. Never content, always fidgeting to play. The mother, unknowingly pregnant, by a man met at the store, buying cigarettes. A one night stand of sorts, a day, an evening. Unprotected and linked by the common misery of loneliness. While stirring dinner and p

Rainy Fridays by awkward-insanity, literature

Literature

Rainy Fridays

I replay constant images from the instances late last night. And everytime they come I want to rip my skin off one more time. I cannot stand to stare. And I cannot believe. That you would turn around and do something this low to me. You say one thing and do another. You don\'t leave his hip and throw me into the gutter. I\'ve never seen you this way before. But I can\'t help pulling closer and catching your lure...in the end. In the end... I really hope it turns out a pitiful break-up. Not just friends... But too damn harsh just to make up. And you. You\'ll come crying back to me. And I. With open arms I cannot bear to see you

Burning Bush by awkward-insanity, literature

Literature

Burning Bush

Money hungry intolerants, egocentric thieves. Burn...the Bush is burning. Kill over slander, white water antagonists. Brainwashed propaganda...Burn...the Bush is burning. God save the innocent and kill the unworthy. God bless the red white and black. God keep tender to the rich, push over the deprived. Corporate domesticates snatch with outspoken arms. It's for the best they say, He'll lead us to sovereignty. Burn...the Bush is burning. Home of the caged and land of the hypocoristic.

fictional truth by awkward-insanity, literature

Literature

fictional truth

This fictional truth. My empty shelved library Cobwebbed, rugged. Unnoticed, untamed. Fictional stories, fictional essays. Fictional remarks, fake pictures. Lies upon lies upon cherishing moments. These fictional lies. I get pounded. My heart beats in my hand and scars my broken wrists. My ears ring to butterflies which stab in my stomach. My eyes bleed and they laugh as my head hits the floor. These fictional feelings will never subside. I will remain helpless. Unsafe, beautiful. Unto a bounty of exploitation. Next stop, propaganda. My fictional life, my fictional friends. Oh sure, they'll never know. It makes me laugh a

Cheat by awkward-insanity, literature

Literature

Cheat

I like it when you lie to me. I love the feeling of your eyes burning into the back of my skull. It brings me pleasure when you cheat on me. The thought of me in your mind as your tongue slips into his. The idea, no, the mere sense, of me watching. Me blatantly gawking at the fact. Me smiling happily as you stare and tell me you love me. Then kick me into the gutter as I laugh and tumble. As my heart beats in my head. Out of time, motionless. My hands ache, my fingers..numb. Do you ever stop to think. Why? It's a matter of time. I'll never have luck. I bring myself up, just to be let down. I stand up, just to be knocked down.

Watchers 10

Monique17

heartbeatstops

xXxPsYcHo-ChicxXx

forsakensoul426

johnme16

darkshadow17

devilatnightwalker

Fays-n-Ems-STOCK

DaShBoArDGrL18

-maryjane-

Watching 8

smashmethod

mattahan

weboso

twist2002

mmr85

foood

bartibartman

juzmental

Collection

Favourites

Collection Coming Soon!

Watch awkward-insanity to be the first to see new deviations.

About awkward-insanity

See all

Artist // Literature

Deviant for 21 years
He / Him

Badges

Posts

See all

awkward-insanity

Jan 6, 2007

i've never written in a journal before.

0 min read

i've never written in a journal before and i think it's sort of appropriate to for my first journal entry to be on here. because no one will most likely ever read it, and it most likely doesn't matter. regardless, i've decided i'm completely unhappy with whatever i've written in the past. i look back in disgust and for no good reason. i have complete contempt for my youth. i can't even look at anything i've written past 6 months ago. my life as, well, an 'artist', has been short and horrid, as of late. i feel like i still haven't matured as an individual, as a writer, and i'm sort of waiting for it. i'm nervous as to what will become of me, a