Davey · Jones' · Locker

what is your full name? David Vincent Labbate

is that French-Canadian? No its butchered Italian

where are you from? Dirty Jersey

were you born there? yeah

where in NJ were you born, cuz you claim Freehold now, correct?
thats right, thats where i stay now, but i was born in Hackensack, and then i moved to Ramsey when i was like 2

Thats up in North Jersey isnt it? yeah where the Sopranos are filmed.

wow. have any family in the Mob? i dont know, and if i did i wouldnt post it on the internet

so what have you been doing lately? Well, im a US Soldier in Iraq. what can i say? im home right now on leave just living my life

what is that like, serving in Iraq? its lame. well, its good and i know alot of people are proud, but im tired of being away from home.

what do you want to do after the service? go to film school, i want to make movies, or be a writer, i dont know something creative

are you creative? ive been told that, i think so, i like to write stories and stuff like that

have anything your working on now? yeah ive been writing this story for like a year now, but im kinda stumped

stumped? well i got to the point where it was progressing very well, and then i had all these ideas but i didnt want to write all the bullshit in between. i guess i got alittle lazy, but i also didnt know how i wanted it all to unfold i guess

well whats it about? its about, well its complicated. its a horror story, but at the same time its pretty deep and asks alot of questions about good and evil.

hmm. sounds interesting, do you have title? not yet.

you like horror? i f***ing love horror, good horror, and b-list horror as well.

whats your favorite horror flick? id have to say the original Night of the Living Dead. it was really well done, and for its time it was pretty violent and graphic.

your talking about the one in black and white? yeah, so much creepier that way.

what do you do when your not watching b movies and writing horror stories? i go ghosthunting.

explain. well i go look for haunted stuff like houses and cemeteries, and i take pictures and stuff like that.

you creep around in cemeteries, at night? yeah, im a wierd kid.

ever see a ghost? i dont think so. i have gotten some strange photos and heard some ungodly sounds and stuff, but as far as having like a one on one with someone from beyond the grave... no i havent.

that is really... interesting... well thanks for your time. yeah not a problem.

awesome f***'ng show in Killadelphia today- Outbreak, This is Hell, Modern Life is War, Bane. so much energy, so much love, it was great to get back to the scene i love. and yes Jesey's Finest Dancer is back!!! really though, it was f***in great. great community. then i gave a bum or homeless guy whatever he was 40 bucks. it was random. but being home right now, back in the hardcore scene made me feel so good, that i wanted to help someone. so i said its your lucky day bro- and gave him 40 bones. the guy f***ng hugged me. i nearly cried. so cool. the Manny wanted to kill everyone and that was funny. Viva Mexico!!

this is not gonna be very poetic. just to the point.

today i had an enlightenment if you will. lately, ive been wondering what i am doing here, what is America doing here? what is this war really all about? im not supposed to think like this i guess, or at least im advised against it; today i think i figured it out. there were these Iraqi kids working on our base for some extra money. they come from the local villages i guess, im not sure. anyway- these kids gotta be like 16 and younger. well i started bullshiting with a bunch of them and then i thought to myself that i got all this extra stuff people have sent to me like candy and food and stuff like that. well i got a huge box together and gave it to the kids. they seemed so excited to get it. they were stuffing their pockets and trading and everything. i dont know why but it really hit me. i felt like i really did something worthwile, i felt like i did something so good. i realize allthough this war seems foolish and pointless at times, my purpose is to help out these people. i feel so bad for them. they have nothing and we have so much. maybe people come here because they have nothing better to do, or for the money, or whatever. i think that we are here for the Iraqis. war sucks, but its gonna happen. we might as well do something good since we are here in the middle of so much bad. i dont know, i guess im being all sentimental or whatever- but at least i feel like i have a purpose.

i can still smell the tabacco on my fingers, and taste the sting of the menthol on my toungue. its been hours. i feel like i only have seconds to spare. i have an eternity. my dreams only taunt me, tempting my senses with what lies ahead. i wake up in the future, then the present comes crashing down. like a kid on christmas eve, my body shakes. maybe its the niccotine. ive got to try and stay here, right now. everytime i close my eyes im there; i never want to open them. this smoke that fills my lungs burns away the truth. im lost in ectstasy, sponsered by Newport. the blue green tranquility. hopefully its crush-proof box can contain me for a little while longer. touch the tan to my lips and im gone, but only for a moment. the flame burns out and im shaking again. ive got a long way to go.

here's something a little different. kind of a play on the duality of man, well at least the dark, evil side of man...

my left hand is black. i am a child of the night. i am darkness. i am a mystery to the people of the day. my left hand is black. i am sin. i am all that is unholy. my left hand is black. i will corrupt you. i want to corrupt you. i am the heart of the devil. i am the black hand. i shall destroy your perfect world. i shall burn your heavens down. i shall bring death. my left hand is black. i want to deflower virgins, i want to make light into dark. my left hand is black. with my left hand black, i will bring you down. im gonna to bring you down. i am the angel on black wings, fallen from heaven, the angel of harlots, the angel with the left hand black.

im walking down these dreary shores again. the fog has consumed the coastline, and i can feel the cold breath of the mist on my face. i will walk this endless beach in search of you. one thousand sleepless nights ive wandered close to the tide. when will i see you again? as the icy water splashes my feet, i fear that forever shall never end. for so long i haved pined to see you once more. my love-lorn heart can not bear this. one more chance to hear you, one more chance to feel your skin against mine. Neptune has no remorse tonight. his waves are taunting my futile efforts. the sound, though relaxing, reminds me of you and fills my heart with sorrow. i will light this lamp. i hope that its warm glow will be a beacon for you to see. this flame shall burn for you. i will hold the lantern high, and one night i will see you again. singing your siren song, beckoning me, to crush my heart along the rocky coast, once again.

the blue smoke swirls up towards the dim lights. the burning end is glowing an electric orange. i inhale a wisp of the hot smoke and i feel it filling my lungs. it lingers for just a moment and then i exhale. every cigarette is a memory. each drag is a moment that ive lived before. slowly i breathe in another memory and just as soon as i remember it, i forget it when i breathe out. its dark all around, but the glowing ember. its dull illumination is like a tiny lantern lighting up this small world that ive closed myself into. another drag, another vision of days past. the smoke is like the fog that blankets my life these days. my last pull from the cigarette, and i say farewell to a life once lost as i toss the butt to the ground. reality hits me like the new york subway. im back and loathing things again. i think ill light another smoke. i want to remember someone from long ago. 100 cigarettes, 100 memories...

so ive been reading these little booklets that they have at the mess hall... i guess they are made by some hardcore right wing christian people. anyway the point is, according to these pamphlets, I am most certainly going to burn in everlasting flame. This is why I am not worried: they say that if i die in my sins, i shall be condemed to suffer...According to these people, my sins include: Being Catholic, having sex with condoms, listening to punk rock, reading Harry Potter books, being interested in the Occult, being open minded about other religions (i.e. Buddhists, Muslims, ect.) having tattoos, beliving that dinosaurs once roamed the earth, and so much more. now, if thats the case, please, send me to Hell so i can be with my family and have a good f***in time in the afterlife... at least i can get laid in Hell.

oh and by the way-- your good deeds will only condem you further...so why f***in bother?

some people may think that I am a simpleton. some people who truly know me , know that I am above most of those who think I am a simpleton. My mind is too lofty for the daily grind. I am the square peg in the triangle hole. most who can not see past the walls of society think that I am a slacker. But why I ask, should I suffer the restraints of these invisible walls? I have isolated myself from the isolated. no longer will I drag the ball and chain that others do. Its not that i shirk my chores, its that my brain operates on a higher level than the work requires. simple work is made for people who know nothing but the system. when a mind such as my own is fettered to complete these tasks, it does not understand.

it all seems... so long ago. the calendar lies all the time- it says its been days, but i know in my heart its been years. everything i knew is gone, everyone is a spectre haunting the walls of my mind. there voices are almost faded, but they still call me. my life is gray skies on a black churning sea of confusion and misery. im standing on the the jeddi by the light house. i am throwing all my memories of my life that i lost into the sea. but neptune wont let me forget. he is not that forgiving. the sea is giving up her ghosts and i cant forget my past. i am so far away from everything and yet i cant escape. water water everywhere and not a drop to drink, im drowning in this, wallowing in my sorrows and still trying to keep my head above the rising tide. my existance is shattered, everthing i was is now a memory and it torments me. but lo- there is a light shining through dark horizons. i can see it through the thunderheads. hope. a lighthouse on the rocky shore... ill make my heading for that beacon, and in due time, i will return home.

so im sitting in the desert today and i realize that my mind does not function properly anymore. my thoughts just dissolve into one another like a million rain drops forming a murky puddle of confusion. i am a puzzle piece, and im not one of the important ones like a corner piece or a piece that connects two parts of the big picture. im more like just a solid puzzle piece maybe of dirt or sky that merely fills in rather than defines. im a zombie, walking around aimlessly in a drug induced haze where my only emmotion is Apathy. Not blissful oblivion, just apathetic. the world turns, days go by weeks turn into months, the weather changes. none of this phases me. 2 weeks feels like 2 generations and a month is like half a lifetime. time has no place here. here in my 2 dimensional purgatory. the same walls constantly stare at me almost mocking my inabilty to do anything about the situation. if i cant change my enviroment, then why should i waste my time worrying about how to better my surroundings. my only joy is the few minutes when i remember the life that i lost a few years back. then reality hits me like a freezing shower on an icy winter day. thousands of cold drops stinging my skin, my soul, me. looking to the future only makes these walls evermore dreadful. even my dreams have forsaken me. they are preminitions of what may become of me and they tease me about what i could have been doing. i am blank. i am that lonley puzzle piece.

i know ive got to stay positive through everything, but it gets increasingly harder and harder. ive been doing ok for the most part trying to keep my depression and anger at bay. but i dont know how long i will last. its not that i dont like the guys in my unit, but it really sucks when i stare off in to the wasteland desert and i realize that i am worlds apart from everyone who is dear to me. keep writing i guess that would help. the mail however is terrible. we are supposed to get some today, but ive learned to never get my hopes to high. maybe im too negative all the time, but thats who i am. at least ive been more creative lately, i think depression's by-product is creativity. what a f**ed up muse i got......

yo- my bad everyone. i havent check this thing in a while, i guess im too caught up with myspace and, oh yeah working!! haha anyways im doin good over here in the crapiest place in the world, honestly it makes Newark seem like paradise. um i dont need anything right now, but thanks to anyone who has sent packages! we really appreciate it. everyone's packages usually get distributed throughout the Platoon, so everyone is 2nd Platoon says thank you as well. anyhow im gonna try and look at this more often

Stay Fly-

davey