askdhkj

Tonight has been full of things that nobody could wuite explain. Words around our heads that swirl and mix and don't actually come out the way you had thought originally. THe skyline is shimering like you always knew it would- a lightscape of onely people shining their torches into the night to try and find a soulmate. Or something. Tonight has been the night of secrets and betrayals and tears and truths and how do you approach the way your soul fills up with something that looks so much like a brick wall. Something to stop the world when it looks too big to contain. We are all leaving. All the time. We chose who we love. we chose who we forget. and sometimes we have no choice in the matter at all and what we have is a voice in the back of our heads telling us that someone is missing. Something is missing. And all we will have is the memory of something beautiful and i wonder maybe, if we're lucky, it won't ever fade.

after a few months

before coming to
you came through to me
on a gray day like today
with my feet in their socks
with my fingers aand your knots
it felt like tattooing an orange peel
all that poking through
my fingers got sticky
and you put the ink away
i bet you didn't know that you could take
each of my four limbs
and nail them to the corners of my room
or that i'd smile so sweetly while you did it
i imagine that we've been here before
but my mind is always playing tricks on me

spicy

I just "upgraded" my bloggerness. i don't really know what that means but my majadra wrap from oasis was really disappointing. tomorrow is my last required blog entry...i wonder if i'll miss it. i have learned this much:
there are bags of sugar cane candy that french kiss the inside of your eye sockets and when you start stinging all over needing so badly that fix- you'll get pussy-schocked by the electrical circuit hard-wired to your pace maker

untext

i should go home now so i can get some coffee-i've got a lot more work to do tonight. SNAGGLE! I can't believe that there's only one more week of school left and i still have so much work to do.

6:45

today i start drinking at 6:00 because it's just that kind of day. not that it's crazy or hectic, just incomplete (i'm not saying that alcohol will make everything okay, just that my frustrated need for drink comes from the incomplete-ness of the day). gogol bordello is perfect. i don't know why. probably because i used to hate them and now that that's out of the way i see how awesome they are. Edward is terribly annoying and i don't know why he's still around in my life. i definately don't need more stupid people in my life, i make up for most of that myself. i just submitted poems to two literary magazines and i'm nervous because i don't think any of my stuff is good enough for it, but i decided to just go for it anyway because what the fuck- you know? YOU YOU YOU. like you exist. "start wearing purple wearing purple, start wearing purple for me know"

ok- it's time to stop this rambling and start wearing purple and doing something with my life (yeah right)

a poem for you!

in this windy maelstrom
the ice cuts deep
but it's too cold to bleed


hmmm....so lovely

i hate the internets

i hate them so much because i have a lot of shit to do but instead i'm here- writing nothing doing nothing listening to the smiths and watching the cat's climbing up the sides of our house and it's icy out today so i hope that he's okay. but really i have to write this paper that i don't think has any point or meaning- which sucks and i can't really find an advisor for my thesis which also really sucks- bummer all over the place and since i'm being so eloquent i think i'll focus my literary prowess towards another project

as if you read

i'm not listening to music right now so no sneaky lyrics will pulse their way into my writing, unless, of course, the Rolling Stones song that i just heard on my way into the computer lab plays loudly enough in my head to get translated into this crazy technological format. meg's wooden mountain range is frighteningly sexual and i feel uncomfortable grabbing it the way that i just did. ok- i'm going to go now because class is about to start and i can't concentrate

88 seville

look! it's a palm tree in the middle of deeetroit. how exciting. "i'm going to the radio station by way of some errands". shmeggegi. i'm wearing a shirt with a radio on it and soon i'll go over to my boss' house so i can borrow one of her winter coats because my winter coats are still in CLEVELAND and i'm stoooopid (stooopid stoopid stooopid) and now i'm going to put on some socks because FUCK my feet are cold.....

example

ode to my long hair

despite the numerous times i've washed them since i got my hair cut, i still find long hairs in my clothes. they remind me of why i cut my hair in the first place: so there would be less of me to spread around. i can't afford to loose too much of myself: eventually there will be nothing left. i manage to pull the hair out and let it drop in the subtle november spring breeze that has picked up on this absurdly warm day
"be free" i think "don't make your way into anybody's coffee- that wouldn't be nice"

"breath in, inhale vapors from bright stars that shine"

i dreamed last night that i couldn't sleep. talk about bad news- if i'm asleep, i at least want to enjoy it instead of freaking out, thinking that i'm counting sheep when i'm really deep in REM. This is probably one of my favorite songs "what'd you do last night? we did, um, two whole cars..." "the new moon rode high in the crown of the metropolis, shining like 'who on top of this?'" ahhhh,,....so beautiful and perfect and like everything i always figured music should be like- i wonder why- it's not like it's my reality- it's more like it's that dark heart beat that lives in every molecule of me- something gypsy and unknown- lost- shunned- throbbing.
"so much on my mind that i can't recline"
there's a girl in one of my classes that i can't stand and she makes me feel like a bad person because she drives me so crazy- i just wish she'd think sometimes a little more than how much it seems like she thinks.....
"for trees to grow in brooklyn, seeds need to be planted..."

"everytime you turn around your soul gets sold"

it's been a long time since i've felt this kind of energy surging through me- like i might tremble to the point of extinction , i might fall apart if i can't figure out where the seems are to go about suturing them up- making sure the stuffing fits in nicely- I can't hold the glue long enough in my hand to put it in the necessary places. it's all spilling out from the sides and hissing on the burning coils of heat all around and its hissing and hissing and hissing and spurting and the burns are getting in my eyes (and i wish i could see how it burns) and the burns are getting in through the cracks (and i wish i could feel how it burns) and the burns are everywhere like scabs on an old mans head- the kind that flake and you don't want to look but you're also curious as to how that happens and whether or not it will happen to you. it is this kind of energy the kind that makes me dance to songs i can't stand just so i can hear that can feel that creativity that people pour out over pianos and drum sets and her eyebrows are so tattoed there and the circles on his cheeks make me want to get lost in something warm- like maybe her touch and i want to lose myself in her lips and to feel my fingers slip into that waterfall of things i can't possibly understand because nobody makes me feel that way i want so badly to make her feel. and he kisses like there's something i'm not telling that he wants to find out. and i'm scared of the way that is- how you can just say "i like you" and have it mean something- and the other kisses me out in public and wants me to rub against him and that's all i thought it meant but this outdoor thing- where people can see- i don't know that that works for me. and the other writes me things i wish i could say aloud, and the other son't even recognize me and yet the other asks to come in when i want to go to sleep and i don't know where loyalties are and who i'm hurting and whether or not i exist in any of it- just a robotic piece of flesh making my way from bed to bed throwing my head back here, escaping orgasms there, thinking of women when men are deep inside of me, thinking of men when i'm deep inside of me thinking of nowhere when they want to look in my eyes and find something that they recognize as themselves. this is the energy that burns me now- swirling around in thompsonian wind gusts except they don't lift me up to her lips or wrap me around his jawline- no they raise me high up and then let me drop down hard hardhardhardhard when they disappear. so fuck

"he not busy being born is busy dying"

today the world is hiding in its own socks- trying to pull something together out of the deranged molecules scuttling about. and you wonder why this is this and that sometimes is that and is at other times completely at odds with itself. like a hippie wearing brand new shoes, a girl with a shaved head who can't figure out why all of these other girls keep trying to kiss her. and i look for something to consummate me- utterly consume and twist into odd figurines- a flick of the tongue here, a sad lopsided grin there and in between- just someone who can put their arm around me and tell me they'll weather the storm. the uglier we are- the more we try to prove that we aren't, and the more beautiful, the harder it is to be anything but. i wish that i could tie up your eyelashes and guard myself against that fateful stare that totally and completely exterminates what i was going to say in terms of resistance. but your eyes are so blue and those hands feel so much like familiar to me so i can't remember how to shape the word "no". it's time to learn about old men long dead and words that get us confused with people that think and feel and cry when in reality we are the same beings that scrape along the floor of some poison ocean-excreting our old romances in those black bile fumes that we all have to now live in. speed along old man- there's no body to buy here.

number 50

this is my 50th post but I feel like it's all been pretty much the same. I'd just like to say, for the record: "LAND DOG" because that is what life's all about. I left my portfolio at cafe ambrosia today and I fely stupid calling them to ask for them to put it aside for me...I'm sleepy from wading through the dust bunnies in my house- trying to get everything clean so that when we come back from thanksgiving break it will be to a sparkling new house.

fever post

I really miss those mountains- the sky that great expanse swallowing the all of you making all things absurdly small- the mate stuck in your teeth, the garlic in your potatoes, the hickie on your thigh. it is so much less gray than these ice days. bla

the new man

we met a man from nigeria last night at the bar and he seemed pretty cool- he was different anyway from the people we normally meet at bars so we figured- why not. then the time came to go home and we expressed as much with him offering to walk us home. thinking he was being polite we told him that wasn't necessary but he insisted and the three of us left for our house. we walked up to the door and he told me that i could go ahead and go inside but that he wanted to talk to jen a little longer. he told her that he was "going to be upfront" and that he hadn't had sex "in a long time" to which she responded, awkwardly, "oh". he let her off the hook with an e-mail address and we giggled collectively about how creepy he had become.

i really want to take an english course about graphic novels and this morning, as i'm getting ready to go to work, i decided to write the teacher of the course to try to get myself in the class. just as i was finishing the e-mail, getting it ready to send, i see the nigerian man walking up our front step. he hands me a bag of pink gooey pastries and tells me "they're fresh" then proceeds to ask what we're up to tonight, what my e-mail address is, etc.

i think that's creepy

just before class

for real- I'm wet- because it's disgusting outside and i think that i need a real crush who might possibly return the favor and not try to rape me. that'd be great. i think that was insensitive. i love emily canosa!

tooth

kiss my kneecaps twist my hair up into your divine. there is consumption here- cannibalism gnawing away our fantasy. Milla walks home along the winding wharfs overflowing with crying teen babies crack sophisticates holding out their bone stubbles craving her brain waves. And do you wait around the corner- creeping in away up front without your pocket change. swirl me twirl me twist this stubble into something beautiful- make the music nerds spit their rhetoric at their own reflections- i think it would be more profitable for us all.
snaggle

nutritional yeast

i am recovering all of the time and brushing the dirt from my knees everytime i fall down. most of the time people don't believe me when they see the stitches across my side and down my ribcage- they assume too pure thoughts for that much surgery. but just wait, wait and see time reveals things that not even tabloids could hope to unvcover