I
am such a freaking miser. I work instead of live. I want to travel
so bad. It's an ache in the back of my head, always. Next summer.
I. am. going. somewhere. I balance on the edge of living, but I
never actually do anything. I get on these riffs where I do nothing
but google plane tickets.
I've
been putting off life for so long
and
you, well. you. You tell me of a girl who meant to leave and
didn't so
I
swear I swear I swear up and down sideways through the gate and out
the window that I'm getting out.
I am about to watch a movie. Here is the synopsis. Naked Lunch: After developing an addiction to the substance he uses to
kill bugs, an exterminator accidentally murders his wife and becomes
involved in a secret government plot being orchestrated by giant bugs in
an Islamic port town in Africa.
This is not representative of my life, so don't get any ideas. Have you ever seen a "ranged" amoeba? Mostly I just write all the time in the hopes that I will get better at it. Also I'm reading the book Nightmares & Dreamscapes by one of the few authors I can stomach these days, master of horror, Stephen King. I had this song in my head while writing this.
This is that fresh, that fresh feeling.
(in all honesty I write because I have to. Oxygen, baby.)
I believe this is what one would call a desolate wasteland. Seriously I feel like I am on Mars. Where did all the trees go? Or did Mott just never have any? Also why are all the roads covered with gravel? I swear it is possible to go days without seeing another human being here. I've been reading through some of my old notebooks with a mixture of amusement and something else that is a bad emotion. ( I was going to google "bad emotions" to figure out what it's called but eh...)
And I learned about the blues from this kitten I knew, her hair was raven and her heart was like a tomb. -Gaslight Anthem
sometimes I wake up and dance nonstop until work. sometimes I keep on dancing at work. One of my old ladies told me I should be on dancing with the stars. Such a doll.
don't you just love those moments when you're in way over your head and you have no idea what's going to happen or what could possibly be at the bottom
Where it says snow read teeth-marks of a virgin Where it says knife read you passed through my bones like a police-whistle Where it says table read horse Where it says horse read my migrant's bundle Apples are to remain apples Each time a hat appears think of Isaac Newton reading the Old Testament Remove all periods They are scars made by words I couldn't bring myself to say Put a finger over each sunrise it will blind you otherwise That damn ant is still stirring Will there be time left to list all errors to replace all hands guns owls plates all cigars ponds woods and reach that beer-bottle my greatest mistake the word I allowed to be written when I should have shouted her name
-Charles Simic
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I may be in love with Charles Simic and I;m pretty sure he's really old and/or dead and also being with you makes me sort of lonely and I don't know why.
Today we took a long walk in the forest.
There we met a couple walking
Arm in arm with eyes closed.
The forest is a dream you had
When you were little, they told us.
Then the two of them were gone.
Even in the afternoon the narrow path
Was busy with shadows.
They had many dark secrets among them,
The trees did.
Shhhh is all we kept hearing.
The leaf we plucked and held in our hands
Appeared genuinely frightened.
The night threw open its birdcage.
The trees pretended to protect us.
In a fit of passion they'd rise
Against the slightest sough of wind,
Only to fall back
Into long minutes of listening.
Let's stay here tonight, you said,
And I agreed, but then we didn't.
You had left the key in the car,
And the video store was about to close.
We were running now.
We could see the ice-cream truck.
We could see the plane's landing lights.
Amy: (singing) Straight up, now tell me are you really gonna love me forever?
Him: Do you have a new boyfriend?
Amy:.... well... a man DID cook me dinner last night.
Him: He cooked for you! and now you're cooking! Laughs mischievously
Amy: (is surprised) Amy: (is amused, laughs)
________________________________________________________
I'm kind of. very happy. Patron saint of "I don't normally do this"
although... that isn't really true anymore is it?
___________
metaphors for you!
"Memory is a crazy woman that hoards colored rags and throws away food."
-Austin O'Malley
"The streets were a furnace, the sun an executioner."
-Cynthia Ozick
__________________________
poetry for you!
Habits - Nikki Giovanni (the first 2/3rds)
i haven't written a poem in so long
i may have forgotten how
unless writing a poem
is like riding a bike
or swimming upstream
or loving you
it may be a habit that once acquired
is never lost
but you say i'm foolish
of course you love me
but being loved of course
is not the same as being loved because
or being loved despite
or being loved
__________________
A Love Poem During Marriage - Heather Bell
And then she took a series of photographs of her face
and hung each one upside down in the bathroom. Because that
is where it started. And she has not showered for days,
months. So as she steps into the wetness, her hair becomes soft
like a small possum and the tile around her is forest and
she is walking. And she comes to a well, moon looking down
sadly like a human. As if to say she would not have been able
to love a disabled baby. So she touches the edge of the well
and inside she sees her hands wrapped up in butcher paper.
Because she could not drive to the hospital fast enough,
the moon looks down and removes that which she no longer needs.
She feels ready to leave the house so perhaps if you peeked in
you would see a normal woman not crying in the shower.
You would see her ready her hands to touch other hands.
You would see her soap her body at the neck, and see
no wound there. But her husband is standing silent while
she is not crying at a deep well and he holds the towel as if
it were a rope and bucket to drag her out.
_____________________________________________
Heather Bell is my favorite favorite favorite and I bought her book once but now I can't find it
_________________________________________________________________
song for you!
The following is very melodramatic and doesn't make a whole lot of sense and I'm not particularly sure what I was thinking when I wrote it. but have at it.
i wrote a poem but it references large amounts of dirty laundry that i can't air because you'd die from the stench. There's a kind of stupid metaphor for you. Anyways i couldn't post it so i thought i would post the last part, but ultimately couldn't do that either. It makes me cry to read it.
BASICALLY! can't post poem, too personal, makes me cry, it'd make him cry too, but probably not anyone else, anyone else would understand that I used to be
(AND I COULDN'T POST WHAT I WAS GOING TO SAY AFTER THAT HERE EITHER)
There is a sideshow oddity two heads, bearded lady sitting quietly in a chair (not sure if you're seeing this) so I'll pretend I can't
even though this person this chair-dweller is all I think about every day most nights when I can't fall back to sleep and a lonely choked miasma threatens to spill out from under the bed
There! wrote that one completely out of the blue and the best part is it doesn't make me cry. It just makes me picture a bearded lady with two heads. Also it makes me think of A Series of Unfortunate Events.
my writing is VERY sub par lately but I will work on that. It's like learning how to breathe again. Not that I can remember the first time I learned how to breathe. anyways I lost six months due to ... well. I did not write this during those six months but to be honest I didn't really write anything. Just laid in my bedroom and watched like thirty episodes of "Community" a day. I've never referenced a lumberjack in a poem. Oddly enough I mention lumberjacks in real life quite a lot.
You have sharp pulse-elevating teeth the stuff I imagine heart attacks are made of
I'm bent on selling you a handful of smiles specifically crafted to distract you from the fact that I have almost nothing to say
and now you're steering this conversation in a direction that suggests you've
forgotten that I don't watch movies or do much of anything but work which maybe
explains why one glass of wine gets me wrapped around you car to streetlight crash style mangled limbs breeding curious onlookers and my insurance has expired
you're leaning in and all I can think is I don't have insurance
__________________________
Old poem, from back when everything was different and new and wild and amazing. I wrote so much about him... well-deserved, all of it.
I've been writing copious amounts in the past few days. It's rather nice. I've also been working full time. It's rather sad. I don't know how good this is. I don't care, no one freaking reads my blog anyways.
GlassHalf
the rest of this post has been deleted. the poem sucked.
well originally I had given myself a year to try and get myself back together but happily it has taken much less time than that. I mean... I mostly get by on terrible jokes and copious amounts of over-the-top smiles... but danggg at least my self confidence is largely back. I am now majoring in English Education and after I graduate I'm getting the heck out of dodge and moving to Costa Rica to teach. Did you know you can actually drive there? Which I won't be doing, but bus rides through a few countries aren't half bad either. In other news I am friends with a dude from Sudan and I think he has gotten ALL his knowledge of America from sitcoms. We're talking HORRIBLE pick up lines. ah summer. I met a marine. that is all.
when you smile and she doesn't return it
give her room and don't disturb it
if it makes it hurt less to curse and fight
go ahead and hate the world girl you earned the right
Feast your eyes on the very first painting I have ever done. Ever. It makes me ridiculously happy. and it didn't take a whole lot of talent so that's good because that kinda thing is limited...
So I was reading old journal entries since I have them all over my desktop. I clicked on September. Goodness I was an obsessive person. I wrote like 3 pages on "that dude who broke into my house" also known as "the guy I was obsessed with for exactly one week" and let me tell you, the things I wrote are hilarious. At least to me anyways. Take this little gem....
"I
can't believe the turn my life has taken and I absolutely love it. So. Much. My heart and stomach are conspiring against me in
anticipation of your phone call in ways I didn't know they could.
Knots, butterflies, the works. I wouldn't be surprised to find gears
or an ocean in there either. When I see you I light up. I wanna be
pursued. And if I'm not mistaken, that is exactly what is happening
here.."
or how about this
"And
stupid or not, the world hasn't been the same since I met him. I
finally found someone. Whether I'm capable of keeping him or not
remains to be seen."
HAHAHAHAH I write like a thirteen year old girl. Less than a week later:
"I
come out of my room, and I'm just like, “why are you in here, HOW
DID YOU GET IN MY HOUSE??” and he's like, well I just opened the
door, and came in, how else? And I started freaking out. I ran
downstairs and into the bathroom, turned on the fan and started
brushing my teeth"
I love the ending. I don't know why I added in that I brushed my teeth. I think what happened was I was in there for a long time and then I figured I may as well make the best of my time. did I mention that all the doors were locked? What a creepy person. He was attractive though.
I think I've posted this before but that was sometime before I deleted my entire page SO!
Verse 1 (Prolyphic):
This is my soul on a postcard stamped with no address
I just hope it gets to where its got to go and beats the cold stress
Cuz those who can't take it go west coast, on the search for gold
Let see how far you get before your progress slows
And the California dream gets old and overrated
Its where mediocre artists go to settle for less as broke waiters
They travel in packs like chain smokers
With the hopes of being famous, but can't make it on their own
I seen their bandwagon pass me by, while I was dragging my boycott
Pulling my own weight in stride
It was my choice not to ask for a ride, cuz one at a time
I'd come across those who've fallen off and careers died
On the side of the road like no one noticed or thought twice
That you were covered in snow and frost bite
Oh, the irony when karma catches up, taste your own medicine
Means just see where you end up
Where the fuck are they now as time passed
They're miles back in piles and all I do is smile and laugh
Cuz once it hits November its just another winter
Don't think I won't remember who should get the middle finger
Cuz I've gone this far and I've counted these days
With my soul on this postcard and it found its way
Through the bullshit and politics, in and out of this
From the bottom up, I finished what I started, survived another winter.
Verse 2, first half (B Dolan):
Some heads go blind every time the sun sets
Feeling the chill of sudden death
They up and run for the West
While we survive these winters of disconnect
Thrive, whither, and die with the sun
surrender to death, then resurrect
with fire on our tongues
And thicker blood
Stubborn as the earth
Waiting for the blizzard to come
Its just a mystery to some
Who feel the cold tell their bones to lay down
Afraid to stay around
They're hopping planes trains and greyhounds
L.A. Bound
The days are shades of gray now
Stay in and pull the shades down
The rain will flood the gutters and slush will suck at our boots
Winter is the curse we shuffle through
Huddled in groups. Growing indestructible roots
And hold mics like they're frozen
I hope the plates don't shift and drop your fragile state into the
ocean
New England patriots!
Its in our nature to resist
That's what the fuck we're known for
Eyes forward til the cold war is over;
Survived another winter.
Verse 2, second half (Alias):
Survived Another Winter
by pinning myself to the frozen ground this time.
syncopated to the sound of falling snow with this rhyme
the constant sunshine of the west made me lose track
eyes toward where the sun rises, so I decided to move back
because I'd rather fill my lungs with chimney smoke
as opposed to California smog that always seemed to make me choke
yeah, yeah...the silence of falling snow, enough to make you deaf
give me overcast days and snow drifts
I wanna watch my breath float away into the sky
season change: two words that I need to live my life by
ask why Jack Frost is my friend again
then pretend that in a couple of months, I won't be climbing up these walls again
but I'll invite the cabin fever in with open arms
nothing else to do but sit and write and set alarms
snowed in, writing new raps, watching snow fall out the studio window
is how I survived another winter.
Verse 3 (Sage Francis):
When the look-alikes insisted that I go west
I didn't book a flight, I shook my right fist full of protest.
I slipped right into the snow vest. Respect the dress code.
We see our own breath when it gets cold. The heart rates get slow.
Every move is purposeful.
The crowd stands with their arms crossed, boss, don't take it personal.
It's gray skies, white lies and black ice.
When the day dies the night time's my afterlife.
I made my sacrifice. I'm not confined to this Island, drifter.
Time shifter. Get the troubles off your mind, sister.
Don't be sensitive. Slip inside a hide that's thicker.
Sure, hide your figure.
Survive a winter wonderland and understand that sometimes we shiver
to stay alive. We don't follow the signs of a quitter.
He's talking with his mouth full. Looking like his eyes were bigger
than his stomach, but fuck it,
because shuckin' and jivin' just does damage to the inside like liquor
inside your liver. Slap me with a parental advisory sticker.
You want constant sunshine? That's a side splitter.
Got no time for punchlines, that's why I'm bitter.
Frostbite sarcasm sealed, signed and delivered.
Don't cry or whimper.
Fight the tide with a counter-current. Never getting swept up by the river.
Keeping sober until it freezes over. Survive another winter.
It has come to my attention that 99.9 percent of the music on my ipod is more than 2 years old. Crazy how I used to be SO obsessed with finding new music. I used to download fifty songs a day . The first thing I talked about with anyone I met was music. I fell for guys based on what music they liked. I'm not sure how I feel about that. Something that was the most important thing in the world to me is now a footnote. odd. In other news I feel better.
best lyrics in the world
We're just whistling past the graveyard
Laughing in backseats and restaurants
Don't know ourselves well but so what
We know each other
Floating down from all my mixed up meditations
Trying to straighten out my spine
It's been folding in the moments that I need it
I'm obsessing over finish lines
Asked you why you're smiling every time you see me
Said I remind you of a joke
I think you might actually me on to something
There's no point in trying to take ourselves so seriously
We're swaying in subconscious subways so insane
But your thoughts still bring flowers for my brain
And I still pull my hands past your ribcage
Hoping my movements might find their place at your side
For as long as you'd like
And we will weave in and out of sanity unnoticed
Swirling in blissfully restless visions of all our bleary progress
Glowing in radiant madness
Certain of all we're become
Now we're sneaking out the backdoor of our American minds
Gonna leave a couple hundred years of bad tradition behind
Done with swimming in the sea of agitated animal doubt
Gonna make up out own meanings till the final blackout [x2]
Saturday, May 26, 2012
It's my birthday tomorrow.
Yippy Skippy.
looking back to last year around this time and everything is different. Which hopefully means that by my next birthday things will have done a 180 again.
