i like stars because they are beyond humanity. arguably,
most things in this world have been touched/influenced/
whatever by humans. stars are
different. we can interpret
(astrology, whatever) but we do not
know. that dot shining could be completely something
else. id like to go there,
but i never will. id like to be more, but i never will. i like looking
at them because they are and we cant really
say why. sure, solar system et all,
galaxies and all that, but
really that light is coming from somewhere and
i (we) really cant say where/if it matters at all.
i am not going to
discover anything.
am not going to
break parallels. every time i look up
(when it is clear) i am humbled, and every time i
look around it is less clear.
when i look up, my life is wasted. when i look around, i accept.
nature of things/human nature, i guess, but
i want to feel like it could be something more or
can be something else. dreaming in color is nice, but
seeing in pieces is good. fill in the blank,
id like to know more.
kKoala, KW
Writen information can't teach. You can't question it. It can't defend itself when people misunderstand or misrepresent it. Written communication gives people "the false conceit of knowledge," a fake certainty that they understand something.
Chuck Palahniuk/Thamus
Monday, July 25, 2005
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
truth has a peanuty smell
sometimes, kids challenge you.
Most of the time, they're pretty straightforward. They ask for what they want. They tell you EXACTLY what they think. They teach you some moves from last friday's breakdancing class or demand your attention towards the new cheer they learned. Life, through a child's existence, is pretty simple.
but sometimes, pretty simple challenges you.
you're trying to explain kindness and respect to an eight year old. They're understanding the concept, they've made their apologies. the dramatized shit storm that just occured has passed. Then the sun comes out and they blind you by saying, "but i just dont want to be friends with her. Can you tell her that i just dont want to be friends with her?"
people are not supposed to all like each other. that's why we have innate interests. its creations way of cultural organization. i for one, do not like every make and model of person in the world. I dont like intellectuals. I don't much care for businessmen. I dont like girls that wear platform foam sandals. I rather not be arround arrogant folk, country music singers, people that complain too much, leeches. I imagine myself sitting at a picnic table, preferebly in pigtails and smoking a cookie jar cigarette trying to share the markers with my new "friends", trying to believe how important it is to make as many friends as possible here at camp. Use me, abuse me. Would you care for a light? Yes, yes i will thank you. Then there would be the leech.
"dont worry, taylor is just like this sometime. I'm sure you'll be friends by the time tomorrow comes around. Try to find someone else to play with today."
stall. the reject tries to make friends with taylor's replacement aquaintence and thus (thunder lightning strike) that bizzare love triangle. New Order. Ha.
Then there is Miss Miranda. There are some girls at camp that are slightly...off. Some are more obvious. Miranda may quietly hit some stages, among other things, pretty hard. She hit me pretty hard with this one.
She does not want to sit on the edge of the bench today, she did yesterday. The pairs of pretties at her table are asking her to move so they can sit next to each other. Twos against one...LeBon would argue that the twos are gonna win out. They do, no theory required. Miranda drops her shoulders and moves to the end of another green plastic picnic bench.
These things are never about sitting spots, or who did and who did not get the prize, or who did and who did not get the lime green water bottle. These are starting points on a psychologists wet dream. A child with honesty so blunt they could knock out a robber. Pre-genius and lacking deflection skills. A problem with a promising solution. Sometimes.
I'm tired of everyone telling me what to do! Tears. Everyone always tells me what to do. My friends at home always tell me what to do, they make my Barbie do all the bad things and i dont want to do it.
(forshadow, shit. Prepare questions.)
do you tell them that you would like to do something different?
They dont listen.
do you tell them that it bothers you?
They don't care.
Why do you play with them if they're not nice to you?
They're all i have. Tears Tears Tears.
(stop. draw blank.)
They're all i have. I want to erase her mind and put it back nice and spakling fresh. You're not supposed to know that yet Miranda. You're not supposed to know that you get thrown on a block or at a bus stop or in a school and what you get is whats there. Pick the apples with the least worms in them, the ones that have only one or two brown spots. Or worse yet, try to never think of yourself as the one in the dirt, under the farmstand table, half eaten by a robin; shriveled and wasted. I realilze that i know nothing about this child. The only thing i do know is that she asks too many goddamn questions, she complains and doesn't listen and I often find her dancing by herself on the porch of Ranch House. I look at all the other girls; they're laughing, singing sponge bob songs, playing with each others hair. The quiet ones look like oil painted portriats; even they have found each other. I look at Miranda. Would i be your friend?
See all the girls in our unit? You can be friends with any of them. How about you try sitting at that table where the girls will treat you better and not make you do things. You can be friends with anyone you want. I'm sorry that your friends at home treat you that way. You can be friends with anyone you want. How does that sound?
Nod.
Can i do anything else to make you feel better?
(everything that i'm worth has turned to dust and is now falling out of my mouth in the form of this ridiculous question)
Shrug.
Ok. Give me a hug.
Hug.
Miranda finishes lunch in two minutes; plays with her lanyard string alone on the front porch of Ranch House.
Part of me feels she's better off that way.
Most of the time, they're pretty straightforward. They ask for what they want. They tell you EXACTLY what they think. They teach you some moves from last friday's breakdancing class or demand your attention towards the new cheer they learned. Life, through a child's existence, is pretty simple.
but sometimes, pretty simple challenges you.
you're trying to explain kindness and respect to an eight year old. They're understanding the concept, they've made their apologies. the dramatized shit storm that just occured has passed. Then the sun comes out and they blind you by saying, "but i just dont want to be friends with her. Can you tell her that i just dont want to be friends with her?"
people are not supposed to all like each other. that's why we have innate interests. its creations way of cultural organization. i for one, do not like every make and model of person in the world. I dont like intellectuals. I don't much care for businessmen. I dont like girls that wear platform foam sandals. I rather not be arround arrogant folk, country music singers, people that complain too much, leeches. I imagine myself sitting at a picnic table, preferebly in pigtails and smoking a cookie jar cigarette trying to share the markers with my new "friends", trying to believe how important it is to make as many friends as possible here at camp. Use me, abuse me. Would you care for a light? Yes, yes i will thank you. Then there would be the leech.
"dont worry, taylor is just like this sometime. I'm sure you'll be friends by the time tomorrow comes around. Try to find someone else to play with today."
stall. the reject tries to make friends with taylor's replacement aquaintence and thus (thunder lightning strike) that bizzare love triangle. New Order. Ha.
Then there is Miss Miranda. There are some girls at camp that are slightly...off. Some are more obvious. Miranda may quietly hit some stages, among other things, pretty hard. She hit me pretty hard with this one.
She does not want to sit on the edge of the bench today, she did yesterday. The pairs of pretties at her table are asking her to move so they can sit next to each other. Twos against one...LeBon would argue that the twos are gonna win out. They do, no theory required. Miranda drops her shoulders and moves to the end of another green plastic picnic bench.
These things are never about sitting spots, or who did and who did not get the prize, or who did and who did not get the lime green water bottle. These are starting points on a psychologists wet dream. A child with honesty so blunt they could knock out a robber. Pre-genius and lacking deflection skills. A problem with a promising solution. Sometimes.
I'm tired of everyone telling me what to do! Tears. Everyone always tells me what to do. My friends at home always tell me what to do, they make my Barbie do all the bad things and i dont want to do it.
(forshadow, shit. Prepare questions.)
do you tell them that you would like to do something different?
They dont listen.
do you tell them that it bothers you?
They don't care.
Why do you play with them if they're not nice to you?
They're all i have. Tears Tears Tears.
(stop. draw blank.)
They're all i have. I want to erase her mind and put it back nice and spakling fresh. You're not supposed to know that yet Miranda. You're not supposed to know that you get thrown on a block or at a bus stop or in a school and what you get is whats there. Pick the apples with the least worms in them, the ones that have only one or two brown spots. Or worse yet, try to never think of yourself as the one in the dirt, under the farmstand table, half eaten by a robin; shriveled and wasted. I realilze that i know nothing about this child. The only thing i do know is that she asks too many goddamn questions, she complains and doesn't listen and I often find her dancing by herself on the porch of Ranch House. I look at all the other girls; they're laughing, singing sponge bob songs, playing with each others hair. The quiet ones look like oil painted portriats; even they have found each other. I look at Miranda. Would i be your friend?
See all the girls in our unit? You can be friends with any of them. How about you try sitting at that table where the girls will treat you better and not make you do things. You can be friends with anyone you want. I'm sorry that your friends at home treat you that way. You can be friends with anyone you want. How does that sound?
Nod.
Can i do anything else to make you feel better?
(everything that i'm worth has turned to dust and is now falling out of my mouth in the form of this ridiculous question)
Shrug.
Ok. Give me a hug.
Hug.
Miranda finishes lunch in two minutes; plays with her lanyard string alone on the front porch of Ranch House.
Part of me feels she's better off that way.
Monday, July 11, 2005
hello, this is swap and shop...
who was that woman?
that woman i just saw while walking out of the restaurant. She was sitting at a table by the door - glasses, a hat - like lois lane. She looked at me like she knew me and i said hello because i thought i recognized her, but i couldn't remember her name, so i just kept going out the door.
Now i can't even remember how i know her. I know i know her. I used to know her. Somehow she was very important to me; she helped me out in a time of trouble. She used to roll her eyes...id say something dumb and she'd roll her eyes and get me something i needed even though she didn't have to.
Maybe she works in the library, or the county recorders office, or at the newspaper. I think i may have been in love with her. No, she's too young, i was never in love with her, not in that way. It's just that i wanted something, needed something, and she was able to give it to me almost out of the goodness of her heart and now i can't even remember who she is. I'm sick. I'm old. I should just walk out into traffic and kill myself.
At home, at night, i go to sleep searching for the lost memory. Did i meet her down by the river in a canoe? or was it on a ferry in southeastern Alaska? or at the foreign correspondence club in Phnom Penh along the Mekong. She has something to do with water, with life, with mud.
I sleep poorly; turning and maybe even groaning in anguish. I do not care about the woman anymore, i am worried for myself. I feel as though there is a black hole in my brain and slowly, but surely its swallowing all the memories of my life.
I get up at 5:30 in the morning and drive to work in the dark. I feel terrible. I look like a piece of gum in the gutter. I pull into Java Joes to get some chemical help and there she is, behind the drive up window. I want to tell her i love her, but i don't because it would be too weird. All i can say is "wow" and she rolls her eyes and gets me my cup of coffee.
Scott Carrier
that woman i just saw while walking out of the restaurant. She was sitting at a table by the door - glasses, a hat - like lois lane. She looked at me like she knew me and i said hello because i thought i recognized her, but i couldn't remember her name, so i just kept going out the door.
Now i can't even remember how i know her. I know i know her. I used to know her. Somehow she was very important to me; she helped me out in a time of trouble. She used to roll her eyes...id say something dumb and she'd roll her eyes and get me something i needed even though she didn't have to.
Maybe she works in the library, or the county recorders office, or at the newspaper. I think i may have been in love with her. No, she's too young, i was never in love with her, not in that way. It's just that i wanted something, needed something, and she was able to give it to me almost out of the goodness of her heart and now i can't even remember who she is. I'm sick. I'm old. I should just walk out into traffic and kill myself.
At home, at night, i go to sleep searching for the lost memory. Did i meet her down by the river in a canoe? or was it on a ferry in southeastern Alaska? or at the foreign correspondence club in Phnom Penh along the Mekong. She has something to do with water, with life, with mud.
I sleep poorly; turning and maybe even groaning in anguish. I do not care about the woman anymore, i am worried for myself. I feel as though there is a black hole in my brain and slowly, but surely its swallowing all the memories of my life.
I get up at 5:30 in the morning and drive to work in the dark. I feel terrible. I look like a piece of gum in the gutter. I pull into Java Joes to get some chemical help and there she is, behind the drive up window. I want to tell her i love her, but i don't because it would be too weird. All i can say is "wow" and she rolls her eyes and gets me my cup of coffee.
Scott Carrier
Wednesday, June 15, 2005
like
robin egg blue and red
coffee and cigarettes
Patrick Marber's "Peter Shelley" and Eels' "Susan's House"
i dont remember and i don't spark quick
but this (to me) i do.
coffee and cigarettes
Patrick Marber's "Peter Shelley" and Eels' "Susan's House"
i dont remember and i don't spark quick
but this (to me) i do.
Wednesday, June 01, 2005
O my, crazy bitch
It's summer sweetheart, lose the black mascara.
Yes that's right. time for new fingernail polish in yellows and pinks. time for legs and 97.1 and sitting watching the fire burn. to keep warm of course. to sit next to pretty and snuggle. smoochies.
parents are in california getting swept away by mass landslides. didn't notice. took into account napa valley and thought the grapes were just that good. were.
like licking toads.
because there's a come down down right? Yes, that's right. I've got 20s that aren't mine and propellerheads in the cadillac. and its loud. i turn it down at red lights. because yes, there is a comedown.
after the addiction.
nice clothes nice schools nice friends with pools and dogs nice vacations nice cars nice phones nice computers nice cookware nice house nice liquor nice shoes nice manicures nice bagged lettuce nice produce nice rings nice fountain pens nice drugs.
nice toads.
i know these things. its easy to clean up if you have money. i like these things? its easy if you have money. i'm trying not to.
what do you want?
calves and hip bones. a clothing line. to play the piano and sing. to cook. to animate and videotape. to ride and lead and laugh and show people how. to get my head to follow my hands. to write about it the way it is. to let it be.
to act?
pressure in the shell of all the dreams too big.
to love.
pish posh impossible. nothing is still something and it's impossible.
rubber ball with a neon foxtail and a big grassy field next to water.
swing it around (((((big circles big circles))))) with ideas ideas ideas
one big fast blurrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
let it fly. where does it go. doesn't matter. theres one ball and theres one tail and when it lands it bounces back.
go fetch.
i want a cobblestone path and a brick archway out of the twister.
the sky is thick grey and the trees are bright like cutouts of something explosive against grey thick is the key.
there is no sound.
laugh
Yes that's right. time for new fingernail polish in yellows and pinks. time for legs and 97.1 and sitting watching the fire burn. to keep warm of course. to sit next to pretty and snuggle. smoochies.
parents are in california getting swept away by mass landslides. didn't notice. took into account napa valley and thought the grapes were just that good. were.
like licking toads.
because there's a come down down right? Yes, that's right. I've got 20s that aren't mine and propellerheads in the cadillac. and its loud. i turn it down at red lights. because yes, there is a comedown.
after the addiction.
nice clothes nice schools nice friends with pools and dogs nice vacations nice cars nice phones nice computers nice cookware nice house nice liquor nice shoes nice manicures nice bagged lettuce nice produce nice rings nice fountain pens nice drugs.
nice toads.
i know these things. its easy to clean up if you have money. i like these things? its easy if you have money. i'm trying not to.
what do you want?
calves and hip bones. a clothing line. to play the piano and sing. to cook. to animate and videotape. to ride and lead and laugh and show people how. to get my head to follow my hands. to write about it the way it is. to let it be.
to act?
pressure in the shell of all the dreams too big.
to love.
pish posh impossible. nothing is still something and it's impossible.
rubber ball with a neon foxtail and a big grassy field next to water.
swing it around (((((big circles big circles))))) with ideas ideas ideas
one big fast blurrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
let it fly. where does it go. doesn't matter. theres one ball and theres one tail and when it lands it bounces back.
go fetch.
i want a cobblestone path and a brick archway out of the twister.
the sky is thick grey and the trees are bright like cutouts of something explosive against grey thick is the key.
there is no sound.
laugh
Wednesday, April 27, 2005
look around, what did you expect?
Daddy bought me this. Daddy bought me all of this. 29 days ago daddy bought me a new laptop, and I have 1 day left to buy office.
Kinda think that’s funny.
Kinda think its funny to see my daddy in an office. Kinda think its funny to see my daddy in his office, selling printing to people he understands, but misunderstanding things they buy. What do we buy. Do we buy words?
This is Microsoft (auto-wordily capitalized…amazingly, think about it) word. I keep typing off (and the automatice button prompts Office 2004 Test Drive User)
Yup, that’s right.
Automafice. Sounds right to me. This is why creativing writing majors don’t read over their work (think about it)
And this is why I do not ever want to have one of these things under my fingers again.
Megan,
If youre reading. You deserve this, for all these reasons. Ive found a few, grammar few, who I can rely on. When I start walking, or riding (im working on this one , thislife.org, episode, #111…funny you should search that site “adventures”) well my plan is to give this to you. You deserve it more than I do. You deserve well, the fucking world…black and blue, pink and white. I love you. What an amazing story you would make, thinking of me, walking/riding the world in your words. Oh wait, ive heard it. Good god, im so thankful you write.
Speaking of giving all you’re soul holds…
I thought, coming home, maybe after awhile, wouldn’t be so bad right?
I thought about that when I came clean to my bad ass high school grad colleage at UDF, whom I told, please do not go to college if you do not know what the fuck you are doing….
Well he’s going to be a business major and he’s a pretty boy, searching for a Miami apartment, so lets let the stereotypes abound until they call, then they cry, then they crawl back to you…
How about one more speaking of..
I thought coming home, maybe after awhile, wouldn’t be so bad right?
Wanna know why?
I love my family. I love my family so much. I love my family so much to let them know that I hate them. Yea that’s right. 2 of 3 of you have access to reading this and this is what I think.
I think we’ve been too nice for too long.
The Katrate Kid came out when I was born. So did 1984. The book, George Orwell? Well fuck if I read it, but dad, c’mon, you know about big brother???
So the same strange shit has been going on since the day I popped out (which, let me remind you, is the same womb you and I came from, meg…and the woman who owns it, well, I’ve been a little distant from. Imagine that beauty)
Well, Mr. Miyagi,
You taught me life is a journey, not a destination.
Sometimes I wish you knew your destination so I could know mine.
http://www.fast-rewind.com/kkid/
http://www.google.com/search?client=safari&rls=en&q=oxford,+OH+karate&ie=UTF-8&oe=UTF-8
http://www.mymiami.muohio.edu/news_events.php
http://www.google.com/u/muohio?site=search&hl=en&lr=&ie=ISO-8859-1&q=miami+equestrian&btnG=Search
http://www.admin.muohio.edu/apps/miamijobs/jobsOnLine/positonDetail.cfm?positionNumber=2172
http://www.admin.muohio.edu/apps/miamijobs/jobsOnLine/positonDetail.cfm?positionNumber=2172
(just because this does not work, feel the bullshit…on fiberoptic communication…2x the unreal, so real…………………..something so fake. Resumes are obsolete. Look at what education has gotten you)
To whom it may concern:
I am a miami student looking for training in horse care and basic riding skills. I've had prior experience with horses, but the experience was through a family friend, very informal and quite some time ago. I'm looking for a stronger experience in attempts to obtain possible jobs at various ranches in colorado or montana. I will not be a full time student next semester so i cannot simply take an equestrian class through miami. I'm looking to do all stable jobs in return for time around the horses. Free employment! If you can help me, or give me any further unformation, i would be so greatful.
Thanks very much,
Meredith Lobsinger
…(rephrased)….
To the obsolete that has placed this add:
I’m a fuck up in your prestigious piece of garbage school passionately wanting a way out to live my life the simple way it should be. However, because of marketing manure that this country has put in to place, I am being a piece of shit (the same shit from a horses ass that I am willing to pick up for free, so you will see at the end of my well written proposal that will never be responded to) … o shit again, it looks like I have made my point. Well, how about a story that no one carse about. Well, I used to be small and free and stupid and thus brilliant, and I had a family who knew someone else who had a farm. Funny how the simple things like names slowly fade away.
Well beyond the cats in the hayloft and feeling the duty of shucking corn for dinner without having to be told, I remember taking a walk on a horse, not in the stable, or the ring off the left of the barn, I remember you all sitting there, and I think it was amy there walking me on a white horse, and well, get on your bootstraps, the horse shook its mane and nehed. Yea neh. Shook its mane, and I was on its back being walked around, and I think you all laughed, but I wanted to make it canter without amy behind me.
Funny how the things that hold so close, Mr. Miyagi are things we haven’t lost hold of at all.
Kinda think that’s funny.
Kinda think its funny to see my daddy in an office. Kinda think its funny to see my daddy in his office, selling printing to people he understands, but misunderstanding things they buy. What do we buy. Do we buy words?
This is Microsoft (auto-wordily capitalized…amazingly, think about it) word. I keep typing off (and the automatice button prompts Office 2004 Test Drive User)
Yup, that’s right.
Automafice. Sounds right to me. This is why creativing writing majors don’t read over their work (think about it)
And this is why I do not ever want to have one of these things under my fingers again.
Megan,
If youre reading. You deserve this, for all these reasons. Ive found a few, grammar few, who I can rely on. When I start walking, or riding (im working on this one , thislife.org, episode, #111…funny you should search that site “adventures”) well my plan is to give this to you. You deserve it more than I do. You deserve well, the fucking world…black and blue, pink and white. I love you. What an amazing story you would make, thinking of me, walking/riding the world in your words. Oh wait, ive heard it. Good god, im so thankful you write.
Speaking of giving all you’re soul holds…
I thought, coming home, maybe after awhile, wouldn’t be so bad right?
I thought about that when I came clean to my bad ass high school grad colleage at UDF, whom I told, please do not go to college if you do not know what the fuck you are doing….
Well he’s going to be a business major and he’s a pretty boy, searching for a Miami apartment, so lets let the stereotypes abound until they call, then they cry, then they crawl back to you…
How about one more speaking of..
I thought coming home, maybe after awhile, wouldn’t be so bad right?
Wanna know why?
I love my family. I love my family so much. I love my family so much to let them know that I hate them. Yea that’s right. 2 of 3 of you have access to reading this and this is what I think.
I think we’ve been too nice for too long.
The Katrate Kid came out when I was born. So did 1984. The book, George Orwell? Well fuck if I read it, but dad, c’mon, you know about big brother???
So the same strange shit has been going on since the day I popped out (which, let me remind you, is the same womb you and I came from, meg…and the woman who owns it, well, I’ve been a little distant from. Imagine that beauty)
Well, Mr. Miyagi,
You taught me life is a journey, not a destination.
Sometimes I wish you knew your destination so I could know mine.
http://www.fast-rewind.com/kkid/
http://www.google.com/search?client=safari&rls=en&q=oxford,+OH+karate&ie=UTF-8&oe=UTF-8
http://www.mymiami.muohio.edu/news_events.php
http://www.google.com/u/muohio?site=search&hl=en&lr=&ie=ISO-8859-1&q=miami+equestrian&btnG=Search
http://www.admin.muohio.edu/apps/miamijobs/jobsOnLine/positonDetail.cfm?positionNumber=2172
http://www.admin.muohio.edu/apps/miamijobs/jobsOnLine/positonDetail.cfm?positionNumber=2172
(just because this does not work, feel the bullshit…on fiberoptic communication…2x the unreal, so real…………………..something so fake. Resumes are obsolete. Look at what education has gotten you)
To whom it may concern:
I am a miami student looking for training in horse care and basic riding skills. I've had prior experience with horses, but the experience was through a family friend, very informal and quite some time ago. I'm looking for a stronger experience in attempts to obtain possible jobs at various ranches in colorado or montana. I will not be a full time student next semester so i cannot simply take an equestrian class through miami. I'm looking to do all stable jobs in return for time around the horses. Free employment! If you can help me, or give me any further unformation, i would be so greatful.
Thanks very much,
Meredith Lobsinger
…(rephrased)….
To the obsolete that has placed this add:
I’m a fuck up in your prestigious piece of garbage school passionately wanting a way out to live my life the simple way it should be. However, because of marketing manure that this country has put in to place, I am being a piece of shit (the same shit from a horses ass that I am willing to pick up for free, so you will see at the end of my well written proposal that will never be responded to) … o shit again, it looks like I have made my point. Well, how about a story that no one carse about. Well, I used to be small and free and stupid and thus brilliant, and I had a family who knew someone else who had a farm. Funny how the simple things like names slowly fade away.
Well beyond the cats in the hayloft and feeling the duty of shucking corn for dinner without having to be told, I remember taking a walk on a horse, not in the stable, or the ring off the left of the barn, I remember you all sitting there, and I think it was amy there walking me on a white horse, and well, get on your bootstraps, the horse shook its mane and nehed. Yea neh. Shook its mane, and I was on its back being walked around, and I think you all laughed, but I wanted to make it canter without amy behind me.
Funny how the things that hold so close, Mr. Miyagi are things we haven’t lost hold of at all.
Monday, April 25, 2005
go ahead, pick ten cards
any ten cards
...
You're not happy.
You're good at pretending that everything in your life is good and you give off a great sense of security and self confidence, but you're not satisfied.
You dont know yourself well. You're restless, unsettled. You're a great pretender.
You like to give the impression that you're happy to be by yourself but in reality, you're mortified that your relationships failed and you believe that its your fault that they failed
and it may be so.
Regret in that area has caused you a great deal of pain.
You dont have many lifelong friends. The friends you have you made while you were with someone else and you weren't close to them; they were mostly your lover's or your other friends friends.
Some of them wanted to be close to you, but they thought you were inaccessible or that you were aloof.
You're very secretive.
And you dont trust easily.
And when you do let someone in, you regret it or resent them.
I think that you feel sooner or later everyone is a disappointment.
You can be assertive and hands on, especially in a crisis, but i think you live in constant fear of tragedy.
You're very very afraid of change.
You've met a man? That you're very taken with?
Maybe you're even obsessed with him.
But i dont think he's affectionate. And he's not someone that you can get to know intimately and you should be careful about misunderstandings because you have a tendency to become quickly infatuated and then you get embarrassed or depressed because things didn't turn out the way you expected them to.
You're a daydreamer.
And you should be careful because you definitely have a tendency to set yourself up for falls.
...
you should let me know if we're moving in the right direction. its possible that we could take a wrong turn and get lost,
especially since its our first time.
...
You're not happy.
You're good at pretending that everything in your life is good and you give off a great sense of security and self confidence, but you're not satisfied.
You dont know yourself well. You're restless, unsettled. You're a great pretender.
You like to give the impression that you're happy to be by yourself but in reality, you're mortified that your relationships failed and you believe that its your fault that they failed
and it may be so.
Regret in that area has caused you a great deal of pain.
You dont have many lifelong friends. The friends you have you made while you were with someone else and you weren't close to them; they were mostly your lover's or your other friends friends.
Some of them wanted to be close to you, but they thought you were inaccessible or that you were aloof.
You're very secretive.
And you dont trust easily.
And when you do let someone in, you regret it or resent them.
I think that you feel sooner or later everyone is a disappointment.
You can be assertive and hands on, especially in a crisis, but i think you live in constant fear of tragedy.
You're very very afraid of change.
You've met a man? That you're very taken with?
Maybe you're even obsessed with him.
But i dont think he's affectionate. And he's not someone that you can get to know intimately and you should be careful about misunderstandings because you have a tendency to become quickly infatuated and then you get embarrassed or depressed because things didn't turn out the way you expected them to.
You're a daydreamer.
And you should be careful because you definitely have a tendency to set yourself up for falls.
...
you should let me know if we're moving in the right direction. its possible that we could take a wrong turn and get lost,
especially since its our first time.
Sunday, April 24, 2005
ahhhhhhhaaaaaaaa
i want to kill the suede dress
shes worked here for years
wanted to paint my face
in the usual mirror
of some early morning
green and fuscia
with no body around
to tell the wrong
ah ha
but i believe in spring
i believe in spring babe
something out of death
bright colors of the death
killing witch
well thats an act of kindness
ask if she knows
the now blossoms in springtime
with something fruity fresh
ask her if she knows the now
in springtime.
shes worked here for years
wanted to paint my face
in the usual mirror
of some early morning
green and fuscia
with no body around
to tell the wrong
ah ha
but i believe in spring
i believe in spring babe
something out of death
bright colors of the death
killing witch
well thats an act of kindness
ask if she knows
the now blossoms in springtime
with something fruity fresh
ask her if she knows the now
in springtime.
Friday, April 08, 2005
bleep.
This is.
Strange
Have you ever seen yourself through the eyes of someone else that you have become?
And looked at yourself through the eyes of the ultimate observer?
Have you ever thought about what thoughts are made of?
is everyone a mystery?
Is everyone an enigma?
They most certainly are.
Be in the mystery.
Its time to get wise.
Why do I like the man that sits behind the fireplace?
So who sees then?
Does the brain see?
Or do the eyes see?
(why does the brain posses a plural possessive whule the eyes, just becase they are two posses a singular?)
is reaiity what we’re seeing with our brain
or is reality what we’re seeing with our eyes?
Brain does not know the difference between what it sees
And what it remembers
Because the same neuronets are then firing
So then
What is reality?
Processing
Processing
Bubbling up to conciousness
4 billion a second
but we are only aware of
2 thousand of those
but the awareness is about
2 thousand of those
are about
our body our environment about time
receiving without integrating it
eyes always
but the brain cannot take it in
the camera is seeing a lot more than it is
because
it has no objection and no judgment
do our eyes see more than what our brain has the conscious ability to object?
Strange
Have you ever seen yourself through the eyes of someone else that you have become?
And looked at yourself through the eyes of the ultimate observer?
Have you ever thought about what thoughts are made of?
is everyone a mystery?
Is everyone an enigma?
They most certainly are.
Be in the mystery.
Its time to get wise.
Why do I like the man that sits behind the fireplace?
So who sees then?
Does the brain see?
Or do the eyes see?
(why does the brain posses a plural possessive whule the eyes, just becase they are two posses a singular?)
is reaiity what we’re seeing with our brain
or is reality what we’re seeing with our eyes?
Brain does not know the difference between what it sees
And what it remembers
Because the same neuronets are then firing
So then
What is reality?
Processing
Processing
Bubbling up to conciousness
4 billion a second
but we are only aware of
2 thousand of those
but the awareness is about
2 thousand of those
are about
our body our environment about time
receiving without integrating it
eyes always
but the brain cannot take it in
the camera is seeing a lot more than it is
because
it has no objection and no judgment
do our eyes see more than what our brain has the conscious ability to object?
Wednesday, April 06, 2005
and then the ones that let you vomit
You were thinking that I would leave you out of this?
After tonight?
Too many rooms to fill that I cant remember
Too many memories when nothing else maters
Even kid rock?
C’mon
We’re talking about god here
Unless we’re not actually talking.
Unless talking doesn’t mean anything
until it echoes through the empty
rooms (full of potential) where
we would be, if time and space
were different. At least
we know. At least we can
prevent what’s to come. We’ve got
batman
o shit
that’s so
French
Casement
Ice storm
70 degrees getting around freezing by nighttime
this is what you’ve been telling me to watch
the cold front
holding the density of the warmth
this is you.
Everything that comes after is
Nothing obscure
It means
The way you look at
The way you look at slipcovers forever
It’s the way I look
Under you.
Everyone is busy putting
in an appearance.
We know how to feel
no pain, but we don’t
know how to absorb it
with sourdough
bread, with chocolate,
with mineral water.
Do we think we can make loose
beams and a red brick fireplace
into something substantial?
Honey, it’s just us. We’re
In charge. We have
To knead the bread
Ourselves. We have to
Take care
Before I feel really bad about my life
I want to remember that I said
Get out of the car
That I said
I know who you are
That I said
Take a walk through this
Fireplace
That nothing could replace
Your room
of what I remember of your face
In that room
And now I sound like lenny kravitiz
But I mean more than trying to rhyme
But you mean more than trying to rhyme
When you’re trying that hard.
The karma sign
Think about Field of Dreams
And about Jane’s
Next big alcoholic break
Sleep my love
Till beaches sleep.
After tonight?
Too many rooms to fill that I cant remember
Too many memories when nothing else maters
Even kid rock?
C’mon
We’re talking about god here
Unless we’re not actually talking.
Unless talking doesn’t mean anything
until it echoes through the empty
rooms (full of potential) where
we would be, if time and space
were different. At least
we know. At least we can
prevent what’s to come. We’ve got
batman
o shit
that’s so
French
Casement
Ice storm
70 degrees getting around freezing by nighttime
this is what you’ve been telling me to watch
the cold front
holding the density of the warmth
this is you.
Everything that comes after is
Nothing obscure
It means
The way you look at
The way you look at slipcovers forever
It’s the way I look
Under you.
Everyone is busy putting
in an appearance.
We know how to feel
no pain, but we don’t
know how to absorb it
with sourdough
bread, with chocolate,
with mineral water.
Do we think we can make loose
beams and a red brick fireplace
into something substantial?
Honey, it’s just us. We’re
In charge. We have
To knead the bread
Ourselves. We have to
Take care
Before I feel really bad about my life
I want to remember that I said
Get out of the car
That I said
I know who you are
That I said
Take a walk through this
Fireplace
That nothing could replace
Your room
of what I remember of your face
In that room
And now I sound like lenny kravitiz
But I mean more than trying to rhyme
But you mean more than trying to rhyme
When you’re trying that hard.
The karma sign
Think about Field of Dreams
And about Jane’s
Next big alcoholic break
Sleep my love
Till beaches sleep.
Wednesday, March 30, 2005
o la
i keep checking this thing hoping that there will be something new and exciting, but i forget that im the one that has to write something.
so its beautiful outside and thats awesome.
god i cant wait for this semester to be over.
so its beautiful outside and thats awesome.
god i cant wait for this semester to be over.
Friday, March 04, 2005
its just more of that he said she said
He said:
kind of friends?!
take that back, you dont mean that, take that back.
she said:
he said:
you know me better than anyone. you've seen everything.
she said:
(what does he know about me?)
but she would have to say that to make it count.
and that would be selfish.
1)say you're sorry 100 times a day.
2)tell yourself you're the only one you can rely on.
3)realize that the world owes you nothing.
4)remind yourself not a soul is contracted to do, be, or say anything for you.
5)dont let your mouth go about your problems, no one cares.
6)remain objective when listening to refrain from caring too much.
7)please do not cry in public.
8)stay still in order to not draw any attention to yourself.
9)isolate all feelings until they become fragmented and spastic.
10)scream.
kind of friends?!
take that back, you dont mean that, take that back.
she said:
he said:
you know me better than anyone. you've seen everything.
she said:
(what does he know about me?)
but she would have to say that to make it count.
and that would be selfish.
1)say you're sorry 100 times a day.
2)tell yourself you're the only one you can rely on.
3)realize that the world owes you nothing.
4)remind yourself not a soul is contracted to do, be, or say anything for you.
5)dont let your mouth go about your problems, no one cares.
6)remain objective when listening to refrain from caring too much.
7)please do not cry in public.
8)stay still in order to not draw any attention to yourself.
9)isolate all feelings until they become fragmented and spastic.
10)scream.
to the skin
i just figured out why i do this
ive been trying to write a story about you megan
and its not the best but you're whats on my mind
so i hope, eventhough after so long there has been nothing
but bad e-mails and depseration and love
because you're the only one that checks
i hope you check again.
the world is big, but there are only so many people you really think about.
if i am history now
I'm listening to Paul Simon
like a young girl hooked on an american icon
(something like televsion and magazines)
an eigth of a beer left
(if you cant come up with that disjuction)
to leave me in my own
no more fat boy cause he cant go slim without an addiction.
slip sliding away
come back now to the piece of you that you cant remember
slip sliding away
if i cant remember what am i sliding from
slip sliding away
towards
you know the nearer your destination
the more you slip slidin away
i wish the voice was so smooth to explain
these are the very words she uses to describe her life
dolores, slip slidin away
my love for you is so overpowering that im afraid i might dissapear
a good day aint got no reign
a bad day
is when i lay in bed and think of things that might have been
never been a parent.
from what i know, i dont know what that feels like.
then theres god and life
the voice can make someone calm
for four minutes and 43 seconds
then you're on your own
ive been trying to write a story about you megan
and its not the best but you're whats on my mind
so i hope, eventhough after so long there has been nothing
but bad e-mails and depseration and love
because you're the only one that checks
i hope you check again.
the world is big, but there are only so many people you really think about.
if i am history now
I'm listening to Paul Simon
like a young girl hooked on an american icon
(something like televsion and magazines)
an eigth of a beer left
(if you cant come up with that disjuction)
to leave me in my own
no more fat boy cause he cant go slim without an addiction.
slip sliding away
come back now to the piece of you that you cant remember
slip sliding away
if i cant remember what am i sliding from
slip sliding away
towards
you know the nearer your destination
the more you slip slidin away
i wish the voice was so smooth to explain
these are the very words she uses to describe her life
dolores, slip slidin away
my love for you is so overpowering that im afraid i might dissapear
a good day aint got no reign
a bad day
is when i lay in bed and think of things that might have been
never been a parent.
from what i know, i dont know what that feels like.
then theres god and life
the voice can make someone calm
for four minutes and 43 seconds
then you're on your own
Sunday, February 13, 2005
moving pictures
i cleaned yesterday.
i did my dishes. i picked things up and stacked them in nice piles, the largest book on the bottom.
i now have beer everywhere. it smells like pizza in here, i even saved the garlic things so maybe my instant brown rice, the only eat item i have left besides black olives will taste like something else besides really nasty teriyaki sauce or shit, garlic. damnit.
i sit here on sundays and i really try to care. i mean everyone feels the same way and we get done whats due tomorrow and laugh when we think about all the extra tasks that wore hope like a blue ribbon with bright eyes sometime before friday fell to the dogs. They got DQed in the end. Never made it to the top spot on the award stand. Maybe next time they'll work real hard for a maroon one. pink? mint green. you know you're a loser when they're handing out pastels.
lets shoot for bold people. Let's win this three-legged race. Lets get the flowers and the photos.
happy freaking valentines day by the way.
i did my dishes. i picked things up and stacked them in nice piles, the largest book on the bottom.
i now have beer everywhere. it smells like pizza in here, i even saved the garlic things so maybe my instant brown rice, the only eat item i have left besides black olives will taste like something else besides really nasty teriyaki sauce or shit, garlic. damnit.
i sit here on sundays and i really try to care. i mean everyone feels the same way and we get done whats due tomorrow and laugh when we think about all the extra tasks that wore hope like a blue ribbon with bright eyes sometime before friday fell to the dogs. They got DQed in the end. Never made it to the top spot on the award stand. Maybe next time they'll work real hard for a maroon one. pink? mint green. you know you're a loser when they're handing out pastels.
lets shoot for bold people. Let's win this three-legged race. Lets get the flowers and the photos.
happy freaking valentines day by the way.
yes well, look out the window. that blue means
its morning.
i lie in an early bed thinking late thoughts waiting for the black to replace my blue...
and then she talks about something love like. is that all we have to replace this shit? i guess so.
and THAT is depressing.
to all of you that have never been in love
me neither. it doesnt happen. prepare yourself if you think you're there, its all going to come to an end. im sorry, im not morbid, im just being real. unless you want to sign a contract...with ring fingers and such and that all happens under god and wow, you're giving up a lot in that case. in that case, well...jesus, stamina will never feel the same. take a sponge and some vinegar with that vodka tonic and you will feel the same in the morning.
to all of you that have never had sex.
i know you have. anyone reading...well christ, if you found this link and you haven't then i have killed the innocence with my fingertips. its just words to you so i dont have to apologize. good luck when you get there. have a lot, thats my advice. suck it raw so in the end you learn that passion does not lie between the sheets or the attempts. open your ears before you open your legs. youll understand. especially if youve given up on darwin. wonder what his sex life was like.
please love though. i mean i just said not to, but if youve been through it all...if well, muffin, too bad, you're that good. read honest in eloquence.
yup well blog blue wont let me do that. want to know? its called comments. do it. she can explain it better than i.
i lie in an early bed thinking late thoughts waiting for the black to replace my blue...
and then she talks about something love like. is that all we have to replace this shit? i guess so.
and THAT is depressing.
to all of you that have never been in love
me neither. it doesnt happen. prepare yourself if you think you're there, its all going to come to an end. im sorry, im not morbid, im just being real. unless you want to sign a contract...with ring fingers and such and that all happens under god and wow, you're giving up a lot in that case. in that case, well...jesus, stamina will never feel the same. take a sponge and some vinegar with that vodka tonic and you will feel the same in the morning.
to all of you that have never had sex.
i know you have. anyone reading...well christ, if you found this link and you haven't then i have killed the innocence with my fingertips. its just words to you so i dont have to apologize. good luck when you get there. have a lot, thats my advice. suck it raw so in the end you learn that passion does not lie between the sheets or the attempts. open your ears before you open your legs. youll understand. especially if youve given up on darwin. wonder what his sex life was like.
please love though. i mean i just said not to, but if youve been through it all...if well, muffin, too bad, you're that good. read honest in eloquence.
yup well blog blue wont let me do that. want to know? its called comments. do it. she can explain it better than i.
Saturday, February 12, 2005
im doomed.
so im sitting in hyena, kofenya or whatever the hell its called doing my damn linguistics work. im sitting in one of those bar chairs against the front picture window and this middle aged dude sits down, no coffee, nothing. after a few minutes he, of course, opens his mouth.
now dont get me wrong, i love strangers. i love register people and the "socrates of oxford" that i see everywhere whom i formally introduced myself to last night. its that big guy, he rides the green route a lot. I love these people. but i dont love these people when i dont get to leave.
"it must be hard to study in here, it being so loud and all" he says to me.
(in the back of my mind, i look around. people are studying. its a college coffee shop. This is a conducive environment for studying.)
No, i say, its not bad. i like it here. (well i did, until now.)
"your place must pretty bad then, pretty loud?"
No, its too quiet actually.
so it goes on like this, chatting, him intruding my sphere, but i listen. its not like i dont want to listen but its the fact that its going somewhere...you can see it. desperation is in the eyes and when you spot it, conversation doesnt matter anymore.
i keep trying to go about my work, structuring phrases into trees. he thinks its science. (no, its life in formula.) he talks about P&G, where he works. he talks about how he used to play gutiar, i think about my dad. we talk about jobs and creative outlets and he asks that god damn question.
"so are you going to write books or something?"
no, im not. but if i were to, you would be in it. so can i please have your writen consent, because i want this to be about truth. and you are so blatantly true.
johnny calls thank god for johnny. i turn in my chair, the other direction and i dont think about it because im involved in a wonderful conversation but as soon as i know the hang up is coming i know what else is on its way.
"sounds like a friend with girl troubles."
yes, you fuck and did you happen to pick up on the fact that i have sexual relations with girls? or did that one slip by you? i mean i know it was a 30 minute coversation and you would feel strange taking notes right? what the hell do you want from me and why the hell do i have to feel bad about honesty?
i pack my shit before i get off the phone. im leaving now. what now.
"so it was nice meeting you. do you want to exchange numbers?"
i dont know you. i dont want to know more than i already do. im more terrible to the people i know best so why do i feel so bad about you?
"um...well (this is called reading body language/facial expressions...o wait im sorry, those aren't that OBVIOUS because im not saying anything right? you mother fucker you have no idea what youre doing to me.) yea, i guess we could do that or something."
hello???? Hesitation? Is that your desperation? i cant do anything for you now, you're in this on your own and im sorry huney, but thats not my problem. This is the only time i advocate being a liar and you're not doing a good job. Start faking it and take it elsewhere.
he gives me his number. mike. 245-1886. says something about the answering machine. i wasnt listening at this point. i havent been listening for awhile. i leave. i walk quickly.
but this is the thing.
im sitting in a coffee shop and im listening to everyone. im even listening to the conversations on the other side of the glass. im thinking about these people i'm not having direct contact with. im just as creepy. but as soon as you say something, as soon as language, your voice, leaves your head in the same voice it was contrived, you've given it away. this is the point when mystery becomes ash and this is the point when you become more than just a stranger, this is the point when your intentions become scary and no one wants to know what you want.
now dont get me wrong, i love strangers. i love register people and the "socrates of oxford" that i see everywhere whom i formally introduced myself to last night. its that big guy, he rides the green route a lot. I love these people. but i dont love these people when i dont get to leave.
"it must be hard to study in here, it being so loud and all" he says to me.
(in the back of my mind, i look around. people are studying. its a college coffee shop. This is a conducive environment for studying.)
No, i say, its not bad. i like it here. (well i did, until now.)
"your place must pretty bad then, pretty loud?"
No, its too quiet actually.
so it goes on like this, chatting, him intruding my sphere, but i listen. its not like i dont want to listen but its the fact that its going somewhere...you can see it. desperation is in the eyes and when you spot it, conversation doesnt matter anymore.
i keep trying to go about my work, structuring phrases into trees. he thinks its science. (no, its life in formula.) he talks about P&G, where he works. he talks about how he used to play gutiar, i think about my dad. we talk about jobs and creative outlets and he asks that god damn question.
"so are you going to write books or something?"
no, im not. but if i were to, you would be in it. so can i please have your writen consent, because i want this to be about truth. and you are so blatantly true.
johnny calls thank god for johnny. i turn in my chair, the other direction and i dont think about it because im involved in a wonderful conversation but as soon as i know the hang up is coming i know what else is on its way.
"sounds like a friend with girl troubles."
yes, you fuck and did you happen to pick up on the fact that i have sexual relations with girls? or did that one slip by you? i mean i know it was a 30 minute coversation and you would feel strange taking notes right? what the hell do you want from me and why the hell do i have to feel bad about honesty?
i pack my shit before i get off the phone. im leaving now. what now.
"so it was nice meeting you. do you want to exchange numbers?"
i dont know you. i dont want to know more than i already do. im more terrible to the people i know best so why do i feel so bad about you?
"um...well (this is called reading body language/facial expressions...o wait im sorry, those aren't that OBVIOUS because im not saying anything right? you mother fucker you have no idea what youre doing to me.) yea, i guess we could do that or something."
hello???? Hesitation? Is that your desperation? i cant do anything for you now, you're in this on your own and im sorry huney, but thats not my problem. This is the only time i advocate being a liar and you're not doing a good job. Start faking it and take it elsewhere.
he gives me his number. mike. 245-1886. says something about the answering machine. i wasnt listening at this point. i havent been listening for awhile. i leave. i walk quickly.
but this is the thing.
im sitting in a coffee shop and im listening to everyone. im even listening to the conversations on the other side of the glass. im thinking about these people i'm not having direct contact with. im just as creepy. but as soon as you say something, as soon as language, your voice, leaves your head in the same voice it was contrived, you've given it away. this is the point when mystery becomes ash and this is the point when you become more than just a stranger, this is the point when your intentions become scary and no one wants to know what you want.
well then.
Let's try a new font to make up for my lack of creativity today.
i am a huge wench. i woke up and made a few hundred apologies. that is not good. if i cant be smart at least be decent. nope, strike three. i belong on the bench.
speaking of, what makes you mad? i mean furious. what memory do you have that makes you absolutely steam? mine is Mr. Dillon, my sophomore year of varsity softball. why the hell did he want me there? all my friends were having fun PLAYING with Mr. Watts and I got to wear pinstripes. Whoopdeefrinkindo. christ, i sucked. i mean i really sucked. he ruined me. he made me put on gear to catch for chiristine rubik. i was so fucking scared i couldnt even throw the ball back. what's that movie? major league? the catcher that had to think of playboy bunnies in order to get the ball back to the pitcher. yea, that didn't work either. in warm-ups i looked like a chicken, a pink one, something ridiculous. i hit jenny rounds in the back of the head with a very very very bad throw to third base. he made a fool out of me. for three innings. then he laughed. i want to murder Mr. Dillon.
why, why why do i do these things to myself. god, my high school and most people in it would be ash right now if i learned the lesson earlier. my nickname in australia was murder. Murder. yes, i look that happy. what the hell is wrong with me.
im a terrible friend. im in this for myself i think, since i cant contribute anything else.
im sorry johnny, i didn't know it was happening. i didn't mean to be so drunk. i didn't mean to arouse a hug when you're the one that needed one.
im sorry steve, i didnt mean to wake up the neighborhood. i didnt mean to call you a liar. im sorry you have to look at me everyday.
im sorry amy and amanda and neely and cat.
im sorry jamie. i morphed into every man i hate.
and to the rest of you, im sorry. I'm sorry you have to be on the receiving end of my loud mouth.
im going back to bed.
i am a huge wench. i woke up and made a few hundred apologies. that is not good. if i cant be smart at least be decent. nope, strike three. i belong on the bench.
speaking of, what makes you mad? i mean furious. what memory do you have that makes you absolutely steam? mine is Mr. Dillon, my sophomore year of varsity softball. why the hell did he want me there? all my friends were having fun PLAYING with Mr. Watts and I got to wear pinstripes. Whoopdeefrinkindo. christ, i sucked. i mean i really sucked. he ruined me. he made me put on gear to catch for chiristine rubik. i was so fucking scared i couldnt even throw the ball back. what's that movie? major league? the catcher that had to think of playboy bunnies in order to get the ball back to the pitcher. yea, that didn't work either. in warm-ups i looked like a chicken, a pink one, something ridiculous. i hit jenny rounds in the back of the head with a very very very bad throw to third base. he made a fool out of me. for three innings. then he laughed. i want to murder Mr. Dillon.
why, why why do i do these things to myself. god, my high school and most people in it would be ash right now if i learned the lesson earlier. my nickname in australia was murder. Murder. yes, i look that happy. what the hell is wrong with me.
im a terrible friend. im in this for myself i think, since i cant contribute anything else.
im sorry johnny, i didn't know it was happening. i didn't mean to be so drunk. i didn't mean to arouse a hug when you're the one that needed one.
im sorry steve, i didnt mean to wake up the neighborhood. i didnt mean to call you a liar. im sorry you have to look at me everyday.
im sorry amy and amanda and neely and cat.
im sorry jamie. i morphed into every man i hate.
and to the rest of you, im sorry. I'm sorry you have to be on the receiving end of my loud mouth.
im going back to bed.
Thursday, February 10, 2005
the horror, that horror
just a few moments ago...
main window: The Desert Eagle
second tab: Jabberwocky
Google search bar: menopause
put them in whatever order you like. obscurity bleeds just the same.
main window: The Desert Eagle
second tab: Jabberwocky
Google search bar: menopause
put them in whatever order you like. obscurity bleeds just the same.
Tuesday, February 08, 2005
on the replay. Va bene!
He knows how to blow things up.
I find this an admirable quality in a man. Damion would rave at me about exhaust pipes and batteries and the neighbor's M3 - the black one with the license plate that said "hers". Yea, sure. He would pace like his green beret father then squat on his desk chair typing in hysteria, pulling up formulas that i saw in 8th grade chemistry when i lit my hand on fire with a pack of matches while trying to light a bunsen burner. If he were there then he would have explained that too.
Gas knows how to blow things up and Gas is a chain smoker. A diagonal line at the pump only means half price to Gas.
My father knows how to blow things up, but he only reacts with one thing and thats the bitch. The bitch doesn't know shit about chemical equations but she knows about physics. She knows that she has three inches of skid room before she hits the wall when thrown from the top step. She knows that shit happens though and i guess you could call that a chemical equation.
I know you can't put foil in the microwave, that magnesium makes bright lights, and that i am a buffer for boys.
I know that bleach can be ingested in small doses, that meth is a popular cooking channel and that my brain and i enjoy a good firefight.
I prefer small bic lighters, she prefers nuclear weapons.
I find this an admirable quality in a man. Damion would rave at me about exhaust pipes and batteries and the neighbor's M3 - the black one with the license plate that said "hers". Yea, sure. He would pace like his green beret father then squat on his desk chair typing in hysteria, pulling up formulas that i saw in 8th grade chemistry when i lit my hand on fire with a pack of matches while trying to light a bunsen burner. If he were there then he would have explained that too.
Gas knows how to blow things up and Gas is a chain smoker. A diagonal line at the pump only means half price to Gas.
My father knows how to blow things up, but he only reacts with one thing and thats the bitch. The bitch doesn't know shit about chemical equations but she knows about physics. She knows that she has three inches of skid room before she hits the wall when thrown from the top step. She knows that shit happens though and i guess you could call that a chemical equation.
I know you can't put foil in the microwave, that magnesium makes bright lights, and that i am a buffer for boys.
I know that bleach can be ingested in small doses, that meth is a popular cooking channel and that my brain and i enjoy a good firefight.
I prefer small bic lighters, she prefers nuclear weapons.
Sunday, February 06, 2005
at the end of three days past
Toad King speaking something sounding like too toffe stoped and asked the well wisher
"where would you be right now if you could be anywhere?"
the well wisher had thoughts, but never answered. This is what the well wisher thought:
father wisher wrapping her in blankets before she went to bed. the last things she said was hehehe before she drifted off to sleep.
the womb.
the beach. which one? she doesnt know. thats not good enough. the beach. please. makes her want to say everywhere.
but these are the things she decided on after the Toad King stepped down from the throne and passed the throne down to the 6th generation never removed:
on the back of a swan.
creamsicle pond.
and thats all she thought. no trees. no monkeys. no sky no sounds no sun. but there would be light because all she can think about is the color.
"where would you be right now if you could be anywhere?"
the well wisher had thoughts, but never answered. This is what the well wisher thought:
father wisher wrapping her in blankets before she went to bed. the last things she said was hehehe before she drifted off to sleep.
the womb.
the beach. which one? she doesnt know. thats not good enough. the beach. please. makes her want to say everywhere.
but these are the things she decided on after the Toad King stepped down from the throne and passed the throne down to the 6th generation never removed:
on the back of a swan.
creamsicle pond.
and thats all she thought. no trees. no monkeys. no sky no sounds no sun. but there would be light because all she can think about is the color.
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