it starts with F

The only passion we been havin
Is the smoke we’ve been passin
Between two lips in a kiss undefined
But baby I don’t want another hit of your green shit
I’d ask for your heart but I can’t find mine

Go ahead and tell a woman she’s crazy
Emotional, irrational, coy and catty
But gentlemen it’s universal knowledge to me that
Intellectual hedonism breeds temporary insanity

At the end of this catharsis
I’ll break didactic ceramics
Like the natural plates
And the shifting of tectonics
Levees will bust, floods will rush in
Bridges will crumble at the feat of the question

Is your fortitude bigger than a façade of fornication
When a girl is bumpin ugly with a spiritual masturbation
Will you consider your retardants against the flames I spit
Will you gather the ashes of whats called commitment
To postulate more than the sex of a double X
And to believe in the brilliant spirit of a phoenix.

is that you? i thought this was supposed to be in confidence

where the spark beings.

(tribute to Kohei Mihara, sounds vs. words, pictures vs. images, and the culture gap. I wanna say Milton, but see, its all to the point of attempt)

would they look at me and think of when it will end. The drama, the cinema. The picture played out in anticipation.
No one meets anyone at the terminal. No one meets anyone with a coy stance, the one with a greeting worth the irritation that gives prelude to the runner up feeling to the word.

For clarity.

coy |koi|
(esp. of a woman)
making a pretense of shyness or modesty that is intended to be alluring but is often regarded as irritating.
(she treated him to a coy smile of invitation) ital.

O WORDS. O MY WORD.
i question sometimes.
why try to fit in a mans world when the world, let it be viewed as "owned" by men, struggle to define our actions, movements, intentions. O so many subjectivities! Does it not mean we wish to process the world by the same words? Like love, so to use such an unoperative word, define itself by only the one/two souls who wish to worship it.
Who needs a higher education in romantic literature when those that have expressed so many times ago are still expressing again and again.

Is that you? I thought this was supposed to be in confession.

write babies, write. Who else to hold to such an enduring term than those that take every moment as a a a a A A A A A A
RE-CREATION.
a rebirth. power and love to those nameless faces that have paved my way, but honey, did you get lost just the same?

over/under
what the fuck is whelm.
do we whelm the self or does the self whelm us.

what a preposterous philo-quasinum.
o i could shit a brick on words.
see, everyone understands that dont they.

good luck to you my intelects. good luck to you.
a world to impress, so the world to digress.
good luck to you with
hello.
goodbye.

we're so much cooler if we're multi-liguistic.

lets define, from once again, my mac push button F8, (what the (conpir))theorists) of apple think about

BEING SMART
INFORMAL having or showing a quick-witted intelligence.

i am excluding information to fit my own interpretation. thus, the media.
does objective journalism exist? a question i rub my eyes to and reach for something....my fridge.

i chill my whiskey.
i chill. sometimes.

i can only give something far more than objective. i give it my own.

i want to write my professors and tell them sionara...
ive meet someone that brings me to this place again

what can i say
i like recreational chemicals.

a vent? a moment. the night was meant to be mine, but honey monogomy was never my thing. plan my day around where i get my next fix and spend the rest thinking about where the world gets its next dollar.
discipline, like most things, comes in depleatable resources.
how do i explain to the ones ive lived up to that ive died short of the potential ive consumed.

Esteemers

fun is fleeting, this is the come down.

biochemicalhorrormonalyselfdefeatingintellectualbreakshit warfare is
rustling the trees outside my window.

here they come, here they go.
who are you
today
to me.

marks on my calendar, voids beneath skin
beyond comprehension.
are we really ok without being in the know.

my smile is gone, mischievous was never enough.

i need to sit and meditate. reiterate some positive phrasing.
ill get done what i needed to today
and retreat upon the creeping in of tomorrow.

does the pressure peruse you?

is the feeling true.

is it exciting because we recogonize that it should be.
is it intense because we want it that way.
is it lovely because thats just what we're looking for.

we're all circular constructs. there are no square pegs. we fit into one another.
where is the black and white world.

am i bored thus lonely. am i bored thus depressed. does boredom rule a world that doesn't sit still, only to feed our heads.
embrace your boredom.
listen to its unresponse.

you are not responsible for my unorthodox complex with being responsible for others emotions.
but it pains me greatly to feel your hurt.

it only puzzles me to feel my own.

sometimes i think

alcohol is healthy for me.

i should write more. It's 3:15am i just got off work. There's a tall blonde next to me, after hours company.

moon is bitten off from the full once again. its hazy and cold.
friends bubble to the surface and pop without asking them to do so. The air dissipates, they lose the form that outlined who they were and perhaps who they'll be again.
But i can't breathe easy with the exhalation they expel.

hot air, cold swears, what's a hooligan.
write me a letter, ill write you a verse. Read it again
but never outloud.

where is my sister. i miss my sister.

dont ask me for advice unless you're not listening.
ask yourself if you can make it through the time it takes.
think of cookies and your nose and the fog you create

against the windows, against doors.
ill count down the floors of the skyrise above to see if the light is still soaking into the back of your blue shade.
how exposed are you?

if you know then you're not.

superheroes and televisor shows me
that ill coast away on charisma until.
until what.
the great (man) theory stands alone.
married with 12 children a mate and a home. but ill feel the best ive been in weeks when someone pays
special attention to me.
turn a cheek to how obvious and ugly the world is.
shrug your shoulders, pat a back, take their money and turn them away.

love, for what its worth.

sometimes without trying hard i can feel my body dying.
it doesnt stop me from keeping on what im doing to let it.
challenge authoity, strip away the rules.
ill think you're wrong when you're not sure you're right.

why do we think we have responsibility over others. towards others?
do we really care.

comfortable is boring. it causes anxiety.
o look, a sprial solution.

what's your number?
how many have you had?
that have broken you?

Against windows cold or seething. I see no light.
But now i know you're awake.

how to feel

comes to a point where you feel nothing
until you feel the originial redone, remixed reconceived in someone (someone)
retorted, reported, automosphere.

when you find the words they're gone.

how many times we feed to the general
i
i i
iiiii
i me he she be
i need he she

focus on the dj
whenwords are hard to come to
looking for this
out self acclaim
speak me to thee
a necessity

but how long can i hold this smoke
between my teeth
to free the place
between my finger tips

take a drag to notice the nonsense
in generations
not long enogh to exhale something
that makes a difference
ill reach for something to make up for
something more
and those words......
well those are words.

im sorry for the lack of aire
between what your looking for
and my me saying im sorry.

the watchmen say.

megan i love you

Goethe's final words, "More light!"

Ever since we crawled out of that primordial slime, that's been our unifying cry
more light.
sunlight, torchlight, candlelight, neon, incandescent. Light to banish the darkness from our caves, to illuminate our roads, the insides of our refridgerators. Big floods for the night games at Soldiers Field. Little tiny flashlights for those books we read under the covers when we're supposed to be asleep.
Light is more than watts, and footcandles. Light is metaphor.

Thy word is a lamp under my feet.
rage, RAGE against the dying of the light!
Lead kindly light, amid the encircling gloom. Lead thou me on.
The light is dark and i am far from home. Lead thou me on.
Arise, shine for that light has come.

Light is knowledge. Light is life. Light is light.

plant food

we made up your mind for you last night
so you can decide that you'll be alright
its no small trick to beat beat
the pessimistic motherfucker sleeping inside your head
do you believe in you?
cuz no one else can do that for you
are you ready yet? are you ready yet?
you dont wanna hear it you dont wanna hear it.

i think i did ok

In October of 2003, I made a decision to pursue an alternative attitude towards education when I met a man named Steve Goril. He was standing behind a table in front of our student center at Miami University in Oxford, Ohio and when I stopped at the beckoning of my curiosity, he handed me a beautifully photographed catalog. The cover was stamped with N O L S, National Outdoor Leadership School, and its contents prophetically displayed the path that would lay down the next five years of my young adult life.

A family friend and avid outdoorsman, Mark Rowland, said to me in an e-mail, “You will realize, perhaps only to the fullest extent when you return to the norm, the realness of it all. The experience is raw and like nothing else.” Period.

I traveled 12,000 miles to Broome, Australia where I stripped away and strapped on the bare essentials. I spent the next 68 days learning to travel by canoe and foot with a group of eleven strangers from all over the United Sates, whom, for various reasons, chose to submerge themselves in one of the most awesome and unforgiving environments in the entire world.

Mark was right. I realized it then and I continued to realize it when I quit taking classes at Miami. He was right when I began picking up applications to outdoor education camps. He was right when I applied to Southern Illinois University and I felt right, for the first time in my college career, when I stepped into my future as specialist in Outdoor Recreation.

There is a lot for me to yet to learn about this field, but with the confidence and pride that I gained from my experience with NOLS, I feel I can begin to set some short and long-term goals for myself.

In time, I wish to become a backcountry expedition leader with a focus in psychological therapy. I believe that by removing people from their everyday environment and harnessing the basic necessities of human life, people can look more intently into themselves and truly discover positive and powerful things that they often fail to see. I believe that by teaching leadership and self-sustainability while interacting closely with a group, people gain confidence and trust themselves to open up to the world around them. The ecology of the natural setting is in many ways a wonderful and creative tool for communicating the importance of each individual in a team.

In order to harness this dream as a reality, I need exactly what I gained from NOLS: experience. I am an emotionally intelligent person with a fair amount of experience dealing with psychological obstructions. I am flexible, honest, open minded and patient. When judging my own personality, I feel I could do a tremendous job in this field. What I need to strengthen, however, are my outdoor skills. I received the caviar of outdoor education with NOLS, but practice, as always, makes perfect. I am determined to gain as much experience in the field through internships or personally planned expeditions with peers. I believe that integrating myself with a smaller scale organization that programs towards children with behavioral disorders would be a good challenge to see how even my strengths are tested. I need to gain a real perspective on the population I wish to work with to ensure myself that the direction I want to take with outdoor recreation will be far more than just a walk in the park.

spread the word

Spike Lee "When the Levees Broke" aired on HBO tonight, the anniversary of Hurricane Katrina.

I can't even watch the whole thing. I took the time off from working on my self-evaluation/professional direction assignment. I'm having a hard time getting back to thinking seriously about my degree in Leisure Services.

speaking of feeling without direction

thanks to the men on the 13th floor

http://www.grizzlymanmovie.com/grizzly.html

this was a change of pace for my usual friday night routine.

hence commencement

chicks that drink. / like beef.
good god, in the male right mind, you're right. what's wrong with us.

There are things that you become aware of. This has nothing to do with beef. I've strayed from such a post-graduate existence for positive mental health accord.

I re-read these things immediately and dont know what they mean.

take notes in multifaceted color sharpie scheme....they're less intensive on the written page that ive grown impatient with.

i went to a meeting for the kick off of SEC (Student Environmental Center) tonight. I was feeling apprehensive. For whatever reason, i view activist groups as extreme intimidation. I participate in these groups to learn more and do things that i could never discover on my own. I like to be a team player. Awareness is the best tool. (Super Size Me?) None the less, you go in thinking, is my philosophy of just learning enough?

I've talked with my sis about what it means to be an activist, and I concentrated on my experience in an anit war NYC protest thru miami's Student for Peace and justice. Right now ive been searching for the dates and the objectives...searching for them because i can't remember myself, which initiates my point but still leaves me without a progressive state of reference. basically, i wanted to meet new people and get a free trip to new york and ended up with an ongoing obsession to become involved. its actually beautiful to the process: plant the seed, get the growth.

since ive myself lost the objective, as most do with language of the pollitically correct...
it doesn't matter. the language. the intimidation. the lack of confidence in speaking of issues the way issues are so often addressed. but it does, in the end.

The organization to make things happen is the organization that is lacking in most organizations in the enitre nation today. We talked a lot about the kids that are pushing the ballot in a new direction today. They're white, middle class, and usually (to the outsider) smelly and unshaven. Fine, we realize that. But for those of you that have tried to get activism booming throughout your campus....what side of the brain do we operate on? Are we logical? Or do we use too much inspiration without direction?

I'm not making any judgements against the SEC at SIUC becuase i haven't seen seen them. Just makes me wonder is all...the programing behind the scenes. If we want to breakdown the stereotype of "shut up hippy" then maybe we need to be a little more established in the distribution of skills into focus groups to make the show run. What these are specifically depend on the group and i know to little and am too intoxicated to propose such innovations.

isnt that funny




that its once again re-read and i still dont know what the hell i mean. o to contridict like contraceptives.

EAT THAT FROG

i made up a word on tuesday.

Not only did i make up a word, but i used it with confidence. I used it and the silence that followed was not the uncomfortable...."dude, i dont know what that means" that i interpreted it as, but rather an Uh...?

We play icebreakers. There are no such things as icebreakers at miami university. There are no icebreakers in English classes. There is nowhere in my previous collegiate existance that i recall breaking the glass fortress that is as cold as it seems. Knock knock?
We're supposed to pair an adjective with our name. Creative perfectionism is a demon when youre pressurely defunct. Marvelous? Magnificent? Monsterous came into my mind but as firm rejector of the creatively judgemental, i chose not such a route. So, as i pondered my marvelous and magnificent word, while simultaneously RUINING the point of the game (to learn everyone elses name by ways of association), i came up with:

Morphious Meredith.

and that's how it sounds and thats how it was spelled in my head. This is the problem/brilliance of/with language. Look at that word, look at me, and tell me why i would have felt so inspired to shit on the integrity of documented words and outspokenly make an ass of myself. Yea, shatter that shit.




small segment #dos

EAT THAT FROG

Wake up. Turn off the alarm clock. Wipe grime from your eyes and feel freaked about what you got.






Everyone's got a frog. Mine's finding a job. Yours is:

going to the bank
writing a 45 page paper on the west bank
breaking up with your boyfriend
finding a way to break up the stash you just got in

whatevs. EAT THAT FROG.

eat that frog alive and whole, with heart and blood pumping, skin absorbing, all and eyes staring. it's nasty and nasty. let yourself curse and scream as you try and capture it, get it all in your hands to scream at it again for not sitting still. You question many beliefs and bite your fingernails at PITA and think you should change views and give up, but you dont! F U FROG! When you're almost there you can call it your bitch as it still struggles to get away from you cuz there aint no stopping this culinary delight. you eat that frog.






no matter what you do for the rest of the day
it will not compare
in straining stature
to what you had for breakfast
that morning.





get your shit done.

I MISS THEE BLOGger

There will be so much to say when i can actually stop thinking long enough to say it.

hi all, hope you're still checking in every once and awhile.

love me love say that you love me.

nipples are peach pits,
sherbety forcasting touches.
heart is a grade school art project.
cheap manila affixed to pink construction paper.
two dimensional anger pulverizes that paper heart.

no significance at all, just trying to write something. 1st stanza in the poem "want ad' by jennifer winkler...Grassroots undergrad lit mag. also on the list of "things to do" the list is so long i forgot to buy my books today.

thanks to all the wonderful people in my life that do so many interesting things. they seep out of you and i soak them up and up and totally and utterly copy the poop out of you.

yea for getting involved! (im gonna be a DJ)(an activist)(an artist)(an adventurist)

g'nite

my dad hates me for filming him real

to the posts that dont remember the words that signed you in:

when the scotland bands sound like the euro pop rox you hate

there's a point at a vacant stop light
when youve heard the same broadcasts
and the same boredom from the sounds you stole
to the same signs you've rebelled against
the same transparencies you covet
when you realize the town in that makes you itch
is the one in which your parents fell in love with
the one where everything was close
to raise the children you despise most

the opposite of down

check out (this) receipt


"I wish i would have thought more about the day-to-day implications of my job. It's a great overall experience, but can be absolutely hell on a day-to-day basis. I have a little pie chart in Excel that calculates the time remaining on my contract. The F9 key updates it. Sometimes I open up that file and just hit F9 every few seconds. It seems very therapeutic, until I realize that I'm not only hitting F9 on my job, I'm also hitting F9 on my life!"

-Melissa Blakeley, Investment Banker, 22-
from "How to Delay the Real World" by Colleen Kinder my favorite person in the whole world.

i laughed. hard. in that o god, you just got kicked in the balls that sucks but its really funny kinda way.

even if it be on my final breath, i will die a hero to myself.

Use the Internet

one day i will fit in

3 meals a day

3/23/04

"Miners Pool"

"It never rains in the Kimberley" - well that's one line I wont be using with this group. Well here at Miner's Pool after 5 days of preparing, traveling and waiting for the rain to stop, we spent a couple of days in the lovely Broome getting friendlier with snakes than many of you hoped to and watching the feeding antics at the croc park which might put even the hardiest person off of swimming in the Kimberley! But no fear we'll soon be enjoying sharing the water with the freshies who are more scared of us then we will ever be of them. Then it was off on our 24hour outback adventure (you always have to exagerrate the story when you tell it each time) fleeing the perilous cyclone of Broome.
Well we made it to Kununurra after many breakfast bars, savoury shapes, doritos, apples and pears later. We arose once again at a sparrow's fart only to be forced to spend a day in the hubbub of Kunurra due to inclement weather.
After gate-crashing the peacerful mall cafe for a few hours we headed back to the caravan park to learn to put up bomber tarps, relax in the enormous pool which was a couple of feet less water once we exited and make the afternoon of the rolo man who had been dreaming of his relazing afternoon by the pool. After some food ID and tips by Kevin we enjoyed dinner by the other group and headed to bed.
Well today after changing a flat tyre on the trail and jump starting the bus we were away and off in two groups to Miner's Pool with our gear not too far behind. The day ended well with John breathing a sigh of relief now that he'll be able to see for the canoeing section and it won't be a blur, and gado-gado, quesadillas and other snacks were enjoyed. We studied things we may have never imagined we wiped our butts with - believe me i will never look at a rock or stick the same way again.

-Karen-


The last one or two lines are cut off due to water and xerox errors, but somehow ending on that note is quite satisfactory. Karen was our Aussie instructor, native of Perth, WA. Even if she was an astute environmentalist, a champion swimmer, blonde and understanding and funny and australian...she can't write very well. At least i had one up on her. After a come to peace with yourself kinda trip, i really shouldn't admit that, but i feel honesty with oneself and others is your only pathway to peace.

If there was any rain besides the rain we were potentially flying into, i dont remember. I remember the heat inside that bus. I remember the heat always. I remember the frogs in the grass at camp while trying to pitch my mozzie and the take-away after the food ID. I remember Kevin talking about the difference between a bag of white powder (flour) and a bag of white powder (powdered milk). This makes me remember about 2 months down the line when i put parm cheese in my hot coco...actually wasn't bad...but that's what the field does to you.
I remember that mall cafe and being in love with Eric Vose, the astrologist with the shaggy hair. I remember seeing him and Betsy at the airport in Sydney. You could tell they were with NOLS and so could they. Because i was too stubborn and too scared to make the first move. He was reading Atlas Shrugged and i spouted off some line steve once told me about her being a femi-nazie becauase i wanted to sound smart. He later brought up another of her books and i believe i asked who ayn rand was or something of the like. Own what you say. Either way, i feel, i dont think and he was something mystical, something i missed and something not many of the other students had.
I remember Keely and Brad buying and wearing matching khaki shorts and blue button down outerwear....something of Keely's doing. Everyone wants a little love i suppose. After about 6 weeks being out in the field she slept with him. Very unsanitary if you ask me.

sand under pressure

"I put so much pressure on myself i can't even write my name sometimes."

I crave an adventure. It's not death i fear, it's feeling dead while still alive. My map and pictures of australia face my eyes every morning. Maybe it's the missing it that makes me feel as though i've missed out, done it wrong again. That the experience only settled on my surface and i blew it away when i decided to hold the sand too tight. Sometime soon the pressure will whisper instead that we have so much work to do.

As a reminder, a present to myself, and a reunion, i'll be transcribing the group journal from NOLS AAU3/21/04, credit of the dinky-dis (the real thing).

3/24/04
"DAY UNO"
Word of the Day: Bonzer - "great" "ripper"

Today we began the canoeing all had been anticipating for the last week. We awoke late feeling well rested and excited. The river is amazing and to my surprise extraordinarily clean. I have never seen trees sprouting out of the water before and here on the Drysdale there are trees and long grass emerging everywhere.
After an early breakfast we went for a swim followed by sliding over a stick like a bunch of whales. Karen provided some humor by flailing around as she demonstrated a defensive swimming maneuver. After swimming we experimented in the canoes by flipping over and just having lots of fun in general.
After a hearty lunch of tortillas, potato cheese soup and some brown sugar pasta courtesy of Marshall and his thirst for intense flavors, we continued to learn more about canoeing on shore before testing our new found skills on the river. We quickly learned that paddling on the shore and in our minds was far easier than in real life. As we practiced gaining control of our watercraft, Steph and Lauren decided to go for a little adventure down the river as the current carried them along. After a couple of runs through a tree obsticle course we called it a day and relaxed a bit before dinner.
No one was too hungry but afterr our various meals were cooked they mysteriously dissapeared within a couple of minutes. While we chose our menus Tyler, a member of Marshall's group, asked only that brown sugar not be included in whatever was made.
As the sun set hundreds of fruit bats flew overhead hopefully devouring the mosquitos that have been bothering us every waking moment. After dinner we gathered around candlelight and played a game of two truths and one lie, learning some things about each other. When i get back to the states I know where i can get some gas pumped, some lumber, or where i can go if i ever need a bull castrated.
We ended the long incredible day by starring up at the brilliant stars. I am so happy to be out here and it is so peaceful and wonderful and awesome to be self sufficient. I think i speak for everyone in saying that today was a real bonzer.

-Graham-


I remember learning how to put my gaiters on. I remember realizing how hard it was to steer that boat. I remember cole and i getting personal from behind 2 sheets of mozzie netting. I remember touching down in that 10 seater plane after picking out cascades between deep cut green covered rock from the clouds. I cant remember where that potato soup came from. I remember shitty tarp assemblages. Athough i dont recall, i dont doubt for a moment that Marshall put brown sugar on pasta. I remember log rolling (feet down river unless you're able to roll over, get on your stomach). I remember the rain delay from camp before the plane and asking Graham (Neilson) what an eddie was. I remember realizing how much i was going to learn. I can still feel those god damn PFDs. I remember those stars and i remember that game but other than the bull i dont know what the hell that gas and lumber is about. I remember Graham not being excited about writing the first journal entry but he volunteered to get it out of the way. i remember that space we camped in. I remember stading around and watching other groups from a distance, watching them in threes and fours do the same things in 12 different ways.

I also remember Brad, that jumped-up bastard from the Crocs that stole our journal and got it all wet so the pages fell out and out of order. I say this cuz this is the second entry in the book, not the first.

little words pack a big punch
take responsibility for yourself
take responsibility for your own learning
risk saying what you think
own what you say
if it needs doing, do it
if you dont understand, ask
enjoy your surroundings
maintain a sense of humour
help others learn and succeed
be kind
push yourself
admit your mistakes
if it is not safe for the group, dont do it
participate and observe
learn from your experiences

HAHAHA

have another mistress, have another.



i bowled a 186 on friday. highlight of my week...maybe even the whole month!

theres a silence in my blood

something that moves me
to defend you

there's a silence in me
to make you doubt

when im watching you

have you an invite
have you given something

from birth
from sisterhood
from soul

from sound.

this is the silence that moves me

beneath the floorboards
of the oldest house
beyond the patterns
of the first doubts

tell me
tell me please
soft
tell me when
just tell me
i'll know you when
i knew you before
tell me
look look love
you'll never
smile

ill exchange when silence pleases.

theme song

I had a dream last night. It was very espionage-esk. There was a group of us girls, not dressed in amazon clothes but formal gowns for a political rally of sorts. There were many rooms.

We had to figure out who kept taking the pictures of the dead people hanging from the ceiling and who was killing them too. I spoted her first. Blonde without the mask. No one believed me. I remember the conversation about protecting my innocence. I laughed. Ha. Ha.

Pieces were missing from there, but i found her hiding place. I tried to ask Mrs. Bartlett for information but she wouldn't have me. Bitter first lady, dealing with the amatures. I understood.

I remember pinning her to the ground. The bloody photographer, not the first lady. She squirmed like a slippery congressman. I managed to clam her down and get both her legs and right arm under my knee. She confessed. I asked, "what gives?" She told me about the times she was in control and everything was perfect at 76th and 127th st. A moment of silent inquiry...my old bus stop. Everything was perfect until i came along and Cole Balogh shifted his aim.

Professionalism fell to shit after that remark becacuse i laughed for hours about how this all came from a gradeschool crush and what a stupid ass world this is and then she pointed out that i didn't understand politics so i walked home in the rain and somewhere around the Crestwood Ice Arena i got picked up by the motorcade.



(Cole, if you're reading this for some reason....i dunno either...i just needed something to write about today ;)

dimensions of a 10ft bridge by means of 2X4s

really?
you fall for men that are "smart?"

did you think i was smarter?

sit. sit here and feel what you've put into yourself for the hopes of something greater and write. Hoping is stupid if you're stunted by the simplicity of greatness.

no, go. go and fix the problems that you've created in abscess, in the thoughts that provide. come around again and grab the keys to fix the problems created with words by saying more again and thinking less.

leave, leave now. Leave now while the feelings are suspended and the spirits are high and blind to doubt. Leave now before the fatal connection is made, between the lips, between the eyes. Leave now before you question who wants it more and who wants it less.

go again, go. find something else. find a better place to be. ride out the high of perfect timing. search for someplace good, but not too good. keep the edge of pessimism, but dont drown in paranoia. find the one, the group who can bring this by making phone calls, by writing digital messages.

surge, surge ahead. ride out the urgency in which you park and exit your car. dont notice where you are, keep focus on what is to come. remind yourself of the visions you had days ago about the plans that you made for tonight. this is the night, because this is the night.

talk yourself up. this is not the climax, stay relaxed. wait patiently. get another drink. occupy your hands. remind yourself to smile. keep coaching, keep on. stop looking, start talking. make a better connection, break through. come on. come one.

hi. hi. giggle while the friend falls down on you. giggle again and excuse everthing. make a smart remark. forget it when it's missed. keep smiling, it's ok to feel awkward. drink. watch him leave. watch. if a friend is there, they will nudge you. they will say smile. you'll get angry at the fact that you were really trying. think about what it took to get a friend there.

what did i think of you before i knew? hard to say, i care about you now. is this when? is this when i had my own thoughts...since they're gone now because you've shared.

ever warn someone before they date you? she asks.
if there were ever a chuckle so sincere.

i can see you from a distance. I can see that you are man or woman. I can see that you are tall or short. I can see that you are fat or thin. I can see that you your hair is long or short. I can see that your skin is dark or light. I can see that you stand on the other side of this bridge and that is all i can see.

I see the bridge is wet. I see the bridge gets darker with rain, i see the wood makes a difference and i dont know how to say that. I see between the planks that have been cut somewhere else that i can't see, that i can see a river beneath. I can see my shoes misplaced and my hands archaic on a rope given to give steady. And then i see you.

Your hair is not dark or light, but red and short. Your eyes are brown. Your skin is filled with curves and shadows. The bags under your eyes make you seem sad. You are taller than me. The hair that grows underneath your chin and down your neck is uneaven and sparce. You have freckles on your arms and a tattoo on your right wrist. You are missing your left pinky finger. You wear two rings, silver. Your eyes are brown.

there is not much to make you come. the air is wet, the bridge wood is damp and the soles of our shoes are artificial. Saving something chivalrous, i escort my hand to lead the way. At your back, i look to the side of the bridge at which you once stood. I take my shoes off. Remind yourself to smile.

Strike Box Matches, 250 count.

String Cheese Incident

I can't tell stories.

He says i'd be better off if i tried.

I think he may be right. Or maybe not.

I went to an abs class last night at the rec. 30 minutes of "attack position". Jackie our instructor said that we accomplished something tonight. It was the best thing ive heard all month.
I believe that half hour meant more to me than all the years ive been in school. Perhaps not the first year and a half. Why? Because i was doing something. I was using my hands. I was engaged in the process.
I can talk endlessly about the things i have done. The things i did for a period of time; the things i got to know. I've stopped doing and started thinking. Suddenly everything has become intangible, everything has become some byproduct of an everlasting headtrip. Tell me how to tell stories about that.

If i could just believe that all but one is a waste, then i would be OK.
There are eight (if i am not mistaken) individual swimming events at the high school level.
I was pretty good at all of them (except for 100 back. I do not believe that asking someone to float around on their back is conducive for proper competition...weirdos)
But I was not stellar at one of them. I asked myself time and time again if it was worth it. Was it worth it to be pretty good at all of them? To be considered versatile is more valuble than being a champion?
I said it was but i was just trying to make myself feel better. Thats some painful shit for it not being worth it.

(But i could split a 25 in fly and damn they to believe that they could take back those yards after brennan and i got done with them. Who Dey.)

I think i will exhaust life as i know it, as it comes to me. I do not decline opportunities to experience something that i have not yet experienced and i will never walk away from a conversation where i can learn something new. But i cannot stay there forever. so i must therefore get to know this uncomfortable feeling of patience, versatility, and the speed at which it all passes me by.

I'm not ending on that because that's just damn cheesy.

A coconut is the largest known seed in the world. Once a coconut falls from a palm tree, it takes about three years for this seed to take root and sprout into a new tree.

I'm moving to San Diego becuase its freaking snowing here.
And i dont give a hoot that its still January.

All in favor of spitting into the wind?
eye.

ive found a secret, of course

punctiliousness

I. Need to convince myself that i matter. Because i cannot tell everyone else what i know.



megan, i love you.

Dear Future Me,

Hello. How are you? I am fine. I am happy.

Let this be a reminder to your worthless entity.

I'm filling out applications to schools again. I'm getting excited. The majority of this excitement comes from having something to do today. When you dont feel like doing anything and you start to resent school again, please remember that i am here feeling joyous because i am filling out school applications.

You choose.

I'll be in touch.

-Jerry

i have previously posted 69 times

and the jokes never die.


i keep thinking about what to write next and then i forget to write and then i just forget altogether.

fact is im tired of the things im thinking about because i whine and complain and i apologize for it which only makes people get the sad brow and reassure me which then just pisses me off because i start thinking about gender sterotypes and how women are and how its not really true which just brings me back to second guesssing myself and twisting my brain tighter into the knot of which it is circular thinking.

but lets try this.

I, Meredith Lobsinger, solidified in identity by the script on her nametag, am:

no.

haha, nevermind, im drinking so i dont want to go there right now.

there are just too many options every moment of the day.

dont study english. you can get all tripped up on anything else and how many options there are but at least you can still talk about them. When you study speech, you become inhibited to talk about how you talk about speech.

maybe i do freak myself out but for freckles sake i lose my words. I wish i didn't have to. i wonder if sign language has a word for "front" or "assonance" or "autonomy".

there is nothing without language.

i gotta start doing something im good at or ill bust. I can't stop myself from thinking about all the stupid shit ive done.
I hit Jenny Rounds in the back of the head with a softball during warm ups when Mr. Dillon made me catch for the first time.
I got involved with a pyriamid scheme because i was desperate and thought that my manipulation skills would really pay off this time (fantasy/reality...o you have no idea)
I told Ferk that i hoped he was proud of me during his retirement party and ill never ever be able to get the image of his face out of my head for as long as i live. And so long live the frustration.

well ok. thats it really. God forgive me for those, this is blogger therapy.
fact is there's nothing wrong with me. That's a scary fact. Give up get married go to church and get a job. Buy a couch, some laundry detergent, a potato peeler.

I'm afraid of originality. I'm afraid that i dont have any. I dont want to listen to anyone else. I dont really want to go look it up on the internet. O im rolling now.

Today while i was at the rec rocking my elyptical machine and silently competing against the girl next to me without looking like i was trying...
i stare at the construction workers building the new ice rink from the windows. I'm not really thinking of anything but i try to. I wanted to drape a sign from the scaffolding about our insane "health concious" culture and i was wondering how i could get up there or how i could hang some large cloth banner and i immediately thought of the internet.
of course, i can go look it up on the internet.
i hate the internet.
but thats where i am aren't i?
and so are you.

Dear Jodo,

early this morning, i ate a 36$ steak with my fingers while standing in front of my refrigerator completely blitzed out of my mind.

so no, i dont think im quite ready for culinary school and professional chefdom
but thanks for the encouragement.


i believe that people who say that they do not care what other people think of them
are liars.