blogs on endignorance.com

Manantes on endignorance!!!

Manantes — Mon, 21 Jun 2010 00:51:36 GMT

check us out on myspace or facebook.

Here is a snippet of our first music video. Thanks to AJ!!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gHHn4l8Piis

R.I.P. Jhonaly Tan aka pinkhairtie :(

munchkin — Mon, 31 May 2010 23:06:46 GMT

Crazy whenever you hear someone you know has passed away...

I hope you smiling down on us and praying for us too.

Only the good die young

Abstinence or rejection

slavepoet — Sat, 29 May 2010 12:53:23 GMT

Bar scene always groovy.
That is the question. And if so, who answers?

Hah.

asinine_ — Sun, 25 Apr 2010 13:42:05 GMT

It still works!

Once upon a time...

lodeez — Tue, 06 Apr 2010 03:11:40 GMT

...there were four people in a bathtub... they went on a mystical journey with wiggle worm... they heard the chimes in a Spy track... and I totally forget how this story ends.

THE END

...or is it?

No yeah it is.

(Based on a true story.)

Nzeexruos at club after 5

Chris — Tue, 16 Mar 2010 16:57:11 GMT

@ after 5 in the plaza second floor in tumon!...(outrigger)
Please come out and suport us so we can get the gig!...10pm
Enjoy some awsome music!!!!! march 17 2010

word murdering.

midnightraindrops — Wed, 10 Mar 2010 19:56:50 GMT

it sounds better when i read it outloud. but here. read it to yourself out loud. yay.

the silent pulsing of the crowd, hypnotic
say what i say to cover the brain cracks, fissures, broken seams
forever and a day. forgive to forget the enemy fire fiend sulks in sideways glances
hand baskets: the nifty new way to travel underground.
devil horns and skull faces surround me drowning. the umbrella is a mushroom and i cannot leave
the man in the carpet yelps like a wounded puppy as the razor slices thin and precise names of loved ones who haunt the hallways of daydream's past.
invisible strings floss swiftly, 3rd party tugging at the corners of your mouth. pretty puppet sing me to sleep. stumbling gently over rust crusted cellphones on sidewalks decorated with sharp candy coated shards, broken promises and sweaty pillows.
awake in a rectangle the stench of yesterday's arm pit playtimes oozes from the pictures.
connect the dots on popcorn ceilings.
-----
nevermind gangster, what about dankster
my shit is danker than yours
"you ain't dankier than me, because you got weed and its stinky"
FUCK. my career in hip-hoppity-bee-bop will never take off with lines like these.
but its modern day warfare, droppin chemical bombs on my furry cohabitants.
them fleas has gots to go
skritchity scratch, those are things of the past
reading rhymes off of cereal boxes
counting stars like fallen angels we fly
mischief causing rebels we climb
faster in trees of rope licorice and powder our noses blue, pixie stix
the blood is normalto be gushing
at this rate i've cried enough tears to fill a girl made lake of silly sloppy tails and dreams' demise
open your eyes, silly goose, you've touched down in the perfect place. you're still alive and not a pillow.
rejoice in the choices made and be glad for mediocre diner coffee and acid reflux.
polite reminders of being alive
better late than never, better now than ever
this is it, be glad and spit huge gobs of lung chunks and this baggy is not leaking coffee stains and burned up, shriveled up hopes and dreams
one day we'll all get to be stars on the stage of this-can't-be-happening-to-me-now-really?
-----
its my life
my life lays in piles all over the floor
leftover reminders of my every day.
my life is packed away neatly in boxes shoved haphazardly into storage closets of those in transition.
my life is a dvd menu; constantly repeating funny one liners until my ears bleed, my guts clench up and i brave the cold mess just for some peace and damn quiet.
you would think that sleep would come easy for someone who has fallen asleep alone for many moons.
but no. clocks broken tonight.
the little green bottle inside has exploded.
i want to be drunk on the words of a poet describing life as he knows it
his life looking through a window.
my life is an organized closet, a shoe collection that no longer makes me happy.
my life is almost meaningless monotony and a past more colorful than a drab finger painting done by a brilliant 5 yr old, more abstract than an 8th grade crayon scribble.
more emo than finch's letters to you.
more magic than song.
what it is, is temporary.
the end is nigh.
the room is clear.
my life is words written on paper stored in purple folders in another town.
my life is flowing through the veins of light that i wish i could see everyday so i don't get sad anymore.
so i don't cry save the tears shed for epiphanies so mind boggling the only response left is tears.
i want to get lost on sidewalks in a different city. i want to ride my bike from dededo to tumon. i want to hike somewhere and eat oysters and chicken n a biskit. i want to have hot sand under my bare feet, sweat i cannot stop, smiles, love and respect deeper than the ocean.
i want deep blue seas and sunsets to die for.
i want to fucking float on the surface of the shiny fucking marble planet.
i want to be, like the dust particles on knick-knacks-taking up space.

late classes suckkkk

midnightraindrops — Fri, 26 Feb 2010 01:19:15 GMT

while i was listening to the untitled song performed by atlas sound my brain wrote:

the scary story loops forever untold sabbath stories of best friends and the ocean that deserts them five ice cream cones later all funeral thoughts are far from my brain, hunting for eggs in strange backyards. do they ever get bored with each other's company and search for a way out? the magical and mystical tales told by some random sufferer dreamscapes slide away down neighboring gutters, collecting rainwater trophies for hidden accomplishments.

---

snap, heres another.
--
if i could freeze time..or maybe just slow it down, i would watch the colors in the air change, count the many rainbow ribboned patterns that pieces us together. and on your face i see a pattern for a blanket, colorful and sad. but when you go on i will look to the stars and be comforted.
the build up of the beat carries my feet to wherever the urge pulls me. treetop butterflies to feel the soft earth and run in frigid weather until i overheat
(feeling is good)
yellow laughter engulfs the sitting spot side tracked but never too far off the beaten path. maybe no one will understand the love i carry around with me everyday for clever words, soothing sounds and city star-scapes. new shoes, cute strangers and the sound of the ocean. purple sunsets, no shoes and clean sheets. bare skin, chemistry and spontaneous song-bursts. singing on my bicycle, word murdering and brat-titudes. some people will never understand that i encompass the beauty of the mundane and the magic of defeat.

So tell me

mama stony — Tue, 23 Feb 2010 21:15:15 GMT

What should we do to get things rolling again? I've tossed out my ideas and done a lot of work, but it doesn't seem to be enough. So tell me your ideas and maybe we can do the work together? Or should I just let it go?

I don't know.

I find it kinda funny, find it kinda sad

munchkin — Mon, 22 Feb 2010 06:53:39 GMT

the dreams in which I'm dying are the best I ever had..

and when he says he had the most fun with you then with his current gf.

MAD WORLD!!!

311 is coming to Guam! RAWRSERS!

March 27th be there or ... not!

And I have a blind date this Saturday ahhh. nervous much?! yeshir.

doriasuckafree<3