Sometimes I focus so hard that the glass disappears and I'm between the leaves.
Strange, how I only like them when there's a filter.
They're dying, and so am I, but aren't we all,
and then the sky's this color blue like steel in a storm
and I'm the horizon and I can't ever stop.
Hello? I can't talk now. Not to you.
Because we're not we, we're you and --- me,
and I'm in the trees, just trying
to find my pulse.
Friday, August 27, 2010
Saturday, November 21, 2009
i try and i try and i try and i try
until
it's okay,
i don't have a heart anymore.
and the songs on repeat don't sound the same.
they morph and they bloom and they bleed into me,
and i care for a minute or two
and i wear down all my erasers
and my words become permanent.
but it's okay,
i don't have a heart anymore.
but then the sky's this color blue like
steel in a storm and
you see me and
i see you and
we swirl and we sing and we sink but
i don't have a heart anymore.
until
it's okay,
i don't have a heart anymore.
and the songs on repeat don't sound the same.
they morph and they bloom and they bleed into me,
and i care for a minute or two
and i wear down all my erasers
and my words become permanent.
but it's okay,
i don't have a heart anymore.
but then the sky's this color blue like
steel in a storm and
you see me and
i see you and
we swirl and we sing and we sink but
i don't have a heart anymore.
there are these days.
days where I want to take every song that ever made me cry
and every person that ever made me doubt myself
and every more and every no and every you're not good enough
and i want to put them all in a box
and climb inside.
today is not that day,
tomorrow will not be that day.
maybe the next day,
maybe the day after that.
maybe the day i wake up and you're gone
and i wait and wait and wait and wait
but you never come back.
and i'll get up and i'll go to work and i'll drive my car and i'll smoke my cigarettes and i'll write my stupid nothings.
and i'll tell myself to be strong.
i need to be stronger.
i need to be strongest.
but i'll never be strong enough
to keep from losing you.
if you say a word over and over it loses its meaning.
strong is a funny string of letters.
so are you.
days where I want to take every song that ever made me cry
and every person that ever made me doubt myself
and every more and every no and every you're not good enough
and i want to put them all in a box
and climb inside.
today is not that day,
tomorrow will not be that day.
maybe the next day,
maybe the day after that.
maybe the day i wake up and you're gone
and i wait and wait and wait and wait
but you never come back.
and i'll get up and i'll go to work and i'll drive my car and i'll smoke my cigarettes and i'll write my stupid nothings.
and i'll tell myself to be strong.
i need to be stronger.
i need to be strongest.
but i'll never be strong enough
to keep from losing you.
if you say a word over and over it loses its meaning.
strong is a funny string of letters.
so are you.
Monday, September 14, 2009
cannibal queen
I love you the same I love kitten’s claw deep in cephalic
It hurts, it hurts, it hurts
It hurts
But it’s just so damned cute.
Cute but something moves behind the eyes.
Something viscous. Odious.
Thirsty.
And it tells me it’s sappy and makes me melt.
But sappy is comparing a girl to a flower, or
Telling her that being able to look into her eyes is like having jesus on speed dial.
You are sappy if a thesaurus is the baby dinosaur
That grows up to make your ideas as close to perfect as they can ever be,
coming from such vicious headwater.
It hurts, it hurts, it hurts
It hurts
But it’s just so damned cute.
Cute but something moves behind the eyes.
Something viscous. Odious.
Thirsty.
And it tells me it’s sappy and makes me melt.
But sappy is comparing a girl to a flower, or
Telling her that being able to look into her eyes is like having jesus on speed dial.
You are sappy if a thesaurus is the baby dinosaur
That grows up to make your ideas as close to perfect as they can ever be,
coming from such vicious headwater.
Friday, July 17, 2009
Why should i feel sad for what i never had? Nothing equals nothing.
Every night, I drive until I am the horizon.
I try to get lost. I try to lose myself.
The open road like an open book tells me its secrets as i hurtle into oblivion.
But I always manage to end up where I began.
Each night, I try harder not to come back. I'm getting better at it, getting further and further into the dark before I turn around.
I'm terrified that some night, I'll succeed. Some night, I'll find a new place to simultaneously love and hate. To always feel as if there's somewhere else I'm supposed to be.
One night, I'm going to vanish.
It's silly to be terrified of such a wonderful prospect.
I try to get lost. I try to lose myself.
The open road like an open book tells me its secrets as i hurtle into oblivion.
But I always manage to end up where I began.
Each night, I try harder not to come back. I'm getting better at it, getting further and further into the dark before I turn around.
I'm terrified that some night, I'll succeed. Some night, I'll find a new place to simultaneously love and hate. To always feel as if there's somewhere else I'm supposed to be.
One night, I'm going to vanish.
It's silly to be terrified of such a wonderful prospect.
Sunday, May 24, 2009
what a day to be alive, and what a day to realize im not
you know how you have those friends that you're proud of, and then when you make new friends, you want them to meet those other people because you're just so sure that they're amazing, and that nobody could ever not think so, and that maybe you'll look even more awesome to your new friends because your other friends are such fantastically wonderful people?
well maybe that's the longest sentence since the dawn of time, and maybe that's exactly how i feel about all of my friends right now.
:]
i just watched win a date with tad hamilton. and the whole time, i just go god DAMN IT kate bosworth, topher is right fucking there!
i would pick topher.
and then at one part, the bartender says something like, your chances are a whole lot better if you turn in an application. like, if you don't go for it, there's a 0% chance you'll get it. but if you at least put it out there, then there's a 50% chance. and that's a pretty substantial statistical increase, yeah?
but she doesn't say anything about how fucked up and awkward things get if that 50% isn't good enough.
so i'll keep my 0%, thank you very much. and i'll appreciate what i've got and never ask for more.
i just wonder how much of that choice is logical thought and simplicity and gratefulness and how much is just plain fear. and fuck if i don't know that a choice made in fear is rarely a sound one.
well maybe that's the longest sentence since the dawn of time, and maybe that's exactly how i feel about all of my friends right now.
:]
i just watched win a date with tad hamilton. and the whole time, i just go god DAMN IT kate bosworth, topher is right fucking there!
i would pick topher.
and then at one part, the bartender says something like, your chances are a whole lot better if you turn in an application. like, if you don't go for it, there's a 0% chance you'll get it. but if you at least put it out there, then there's a 50% chance. and that's a pretty substantial statistical increase, yeah?
but she doesn't say anything about how fucked up and awkward things get if that 50% isn't good enough.
so i'll keep my 0%, thank you very much. and i'll appreciate what i've got and never ask for more.
i just wonder how much of that choice is logical thought and simplicity and gratefulness and how much is just plain fear. and fuck if i don't know that a choice made in fear is rarely a sound one.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
in the cold light of day, you can't always see what's true
i found some stuff i wrote for the creative writing class i took back when i was actually forcing myself to go to school. there were a few things i dont even remember writing. how weird is that? it's like, writing becomes such an organic process for me that shit just flows out of me and i don't even think about it.
here's one poem i don't remember. it's called Incite Insight. apparently.
These plans are ink
flowing freely, like gutter torrents in April storms,
through flaked picket fences and cracked front doors,
climbing up carnation stems, disturbing plain white suburban delusion,
infecting the petals with urban turmoil,
seeping through the veins of the weak, the poor, the tired, the hungry,
creeping into the off-whites of their searching eyes,
turning them granite black,
cold and solid and unmoving and unfeeling and
capable of great things.
hm. wtf.
oh, and then there was this weird scene-from-a-play thing:
(Setting: library. BOY sits alone at table with loads of books piled on it, taking notes. Empty chair is across the table from him.
(BOY should be wearing plain white oxford shirt, black pants, black tie, nice black shoes. GIRL should be wearing colorful tank top, checkered pants or a tutu or something. Unnatural colored wig. Crazy looking.)
GIRL
(Spinning the empty chair around and sitting on it backwards) Well, what’s a guy like you doing in a library like this, hm? (He ignores her) You looked lonely. And possibly dead. Except your hand was still taking notes. So I thought, hey, if this is some crazy medical miracle, and you died of boredom and your hand just kept on going, writing down line after line of meaningless shit, I better go check it out. I mean, I couldn’t just pass up the opportunity to witness what could quite possibly be the greatest medical anomaly ever to occur in--
BOY
(Glances briefly up at her, and then goes back to scanning a book and taking notes)(cutting her off) God, not now, okay? I’ve got a lot to do. (GIRL picks a book off of one of the stacks, flips through a few pages, tosses it onto another stack with a loud bang) Wait, what are you…? Gah… (She takes another book from a stack and starts to flip through it) Can you maybe not? I’ve got kind of a system going on…
GIRL
Ohhhh, a system! (She keeps flipping through the book. He stares at her, exasperated. She closes the book, looks up at him) Oh, you’ll figure it out. (She tosses the book onto another random stack).
BOY
Okay, really? (sigh) Did you need something? Or are you just trying to sabotage me?
GIRL
I’ll take C, none of the above. You should really consider more open ended questions, you know. You can never really know anybody’s full motives, and trying to condense them into two measly little choices is really kind of--
BOY
(interrupting her) Okay, whatever. Can you go, then?
GIRL
Nahhh. I’m still hoping to witness a medical anomaly. Maybe your brain will implode or something. (picks up another book from the stack) What is all this, anyways?
BOY
I have an accounting final tomorrow.
GIRL
Hm. Looks like a whole lot of bullshit to me.
BOY
Well then stop reading it (tries to take the book out of her hands across the table)
GIRL
(scoots her chair back so she’s out of his reach, reads aloud) “Big Firm seeks soulless, lifeless 20-something with college degree. Must love corporate america…”
BOY
It doesn’t say that…
GIRL
(sarcastic) Oooo, you got me… (tosses the book onto the table) What makes you want to do this shit anyways?
BOY
I don’t know. There’s pretty good money in it I guess.
GIRL
(Raising an eyebrow) Oh, reeeeeeally…. Well, how fantastic for you. (starts flipping through another book) What are you gonna by first, happiness or a Cadillac? (flips through the book for a while) So. Tell me the best day of your life.
BOY
What?
GIRL
The best day of your life in no less than 5 sentences. Go.
BOY
What? No…
GIRL
Why not?
BOY
Be--because… what the hell…
GIRL
Oh, come on. It’ll be fun. Like story time. Wait, your best day involved aliens or secret government projects or something and you’re sworn to secrecy, in which case, you should probably just make something up, ‘cause I wanna hear a stor--
BOY
No, no. I just…I don’t really think I have a best day ever. My whole life’s been the same.
GIRL
…wowwwww. That sucks.
BOY
(long pause, he stares at her while she flips through the book) What is it that you’re looking for, exactly?
GIRL
I don’t know. I don’t… know... (Scans a few pages of the book) Not this. (Adds the book to another stack)
BOY
No, I mean… here. In college. You’ve already seen what success brings… if that‘s not good enough for you, then--.
GIRL
What?
BOY
Well… you’re well off. You’ve got money. You’re rich. Shouldn’t that be enough?
GIRL
(growing angry/flustered) No, no, I‘m not rich. My parents are. For fuck’s sake, man. I am more than a byproduct of my parents’ poor reproductive choices. I am a living being. I have a heart and I breathe and I think. And money isn’t everything to me, okay? Maybe there’s more to life than a picket fence.
BOY
…well, I’m just saying.
GIRL
Saying what?!
BOY
…never mind.
GIRL
(pause)(under breath/aside)Fuck. (longer pause.) What do you want to do with your life?
BOY
Like a job?
GIRL
No. what is your purpose. Your higher calling.
BOY
….so, like a career?
GIRL
(frustrated) No. Fuck, no. your career is not your life. Forget about money and cars and all of this (sweeping gesture to audience). What do you want out of your life. Think.
BOY
(Pause)To be better than my dad.
GIRL
Why?
BOY
I donno. Just gotta prove it I guess.
GIRL
Prove what? That you’re good enough?
BOY
Yeah…well, I mean--
GIRL
(growing more and more animated/angry) Oh, god, jesus, th- (sigh) there you go again, with your, (exasperated sigh)…. Prove it to who?! To them (pointing gesture to audience)?! To these ignorant, superficial assholes?! They don’t give a shit what you do, man! They’re all focused on their dollars and fucking cents! Why are you trynna impress these shapeless faces, these tired SHEEPle!! They’re in their own god damned worlds. Why the hell are you trying to be like that? Like them? (yelling by this point) Just formless in a fucking crowd? You’re like an amoeba, like a fucking slide under a microscope, man, but nobody gives a shit what phase of osmosis you’re in, you’re just… fucking… (quieter) fuck, man, why do you have to prove it to them? Why do you have to prove anything?
BOY
(stares at her and pauses for a long time) My best day ever. My best day ever smelled like tortilla soup and scotch whiskey and cigarettes. The day I left home to come here. My mom wouldn’t talk to me-- she wanted me to stay home forever. Wanted me to be her support. God knows her husband wasn‘t there for her. My dad was… he was drunk. Passed out on the couch with the tv blaring and an ashtray in his lap. My mom, she gave me this look, like, please don’t go. Or maybe it was more like take me with you. Get me out of here. And she looked like if I took one more step away from her, she’d literally fall to pieces. But I walked out that door, and I packed my shit into the car, and I left. And I never looked back.
(HE walks off stage into the audience, leaving HER alone on stage, staring into the crowd, unsure. SHE takes off her wig, turns it over and over in her hands, downcast eyes. SHE turns and exits stage right or left, doesn’t matter, just not into audience. Lights out.)
fuckin weird, man.
here's one poem i don't remember. it's called Incite Insight. apparently.
These plans are ink
flowing freely, like gutter torrents in April storms,
through flaked picket fences and cracked front doors,
climbing up carnation stems, disturbing plain white suburban delusion,
infecting the petals with urban turmoil,
seeping through the veins of the weak, the poor, the tired, the hungry,
creeping into the off-whites of their searching eyes,
turning them granite black,
cold and solid and unmoving and unfeeling and
capable of great things.
hm. wtf.
oh, and then there was this weird scene-from-a-play thing:
(Setting: library. BOY sits alone at table with loads of books piled on it, taking notes. Empty chair is across the table from him.
(BOY should be wearing plain white oxford shirt, black pants, black tie, nice black shoes. GIRL should be wearing colorful tank top, checkered pants or a tutu or something. Unnatural colored wig. Crazy looking.)
GIRL
(Spinning the empty chair around and sitting on it backwards) Well, what’s a guy like you doing in a library like this, hm? (He ignores her) You looked lonely. And possibly dead. Except your hand was still taking notes. So I thought, hey, if this is some crazy medical miracle, and you died of boredom and your hand just kept on going, writing down line after line of meaningless shit, I better go check it out. I mean, I couldn’t just pass up the opportunity to witness what could quite possibly be the greatest medical anomaly ever to occur in--
BOY
(Glances briefly up at her, and then goes back to scanning a book and taking notes)(cutting her off) God, not now, okay? I’ve got a lot to do. (GIRL picks a book off of one of the stacks, flips through a few pages, tosses it onto another stack with a loud bang) Wait, what are you…? Gah… (She takes another book from a stack and starts to flip through it) Can you maybe not? I’ve got kind of a system going on…
GIRL
Ohhhh, a system! (She keeps flipping through the book. He stares at her, exasperated. She closes the book, looks up at him) Oh, you’ll figure it out. (She tosses the book onto another random stack).
BOY
Okay, really? (sigh) Did you need something? Or are you just trying to sabotage me?
GIRL
I’ll take C, none of the above. You should really consider more open ended questions, you know. You can never really know anybody’s full motives, and trying to condense them into two measly little choices is really kind of--
BOY
(interrupting her) Okay, whatever. Can you go, then?
GIRL
Nahhh. I’m still hoping to witness a medical anomaly. Maybe your brain will implode or something. (picks up another book from the stack) What is all this, anyways?
BOY
I have an accounting final tomorrow.
GIRL
Hm. Looks like a whole lot of bullshit to me.
BOY
Well then stop reading it (tries to take the book out of her hands across the table)
GIRL
(scoots her chair back so she’s out of his reach, reads aloud) “Big Firm seeks soulless, lifeless 20-something with college degree. Must love corporate america…”
BOY
It doesn’t say that…
GIRL
(sarcastic) Oooo, you got me… (tosses the book onto the table) What makes you want to do this shit anyways?
BOY
I don’t know. There’s pretty good money in it I guess.
GIRL
(Raising an eyebrow) Oh, reeeeeeally…. Well, how fantastic for you. (starts flipping through another book) What are you gonna by first, happiness or a Cadillac? (flips through the book for a while) So. Tell me the best day of your life.
BOY
What?
GIRL
The best day of your life in no less than 5 sentences. Go.
BOY
What? No…
GIRL
Why not?
BOY
Be--because… what the hell…
GIRL
Oh, come on. It’ll be fun. Like story time. Wait, your best day involved aliens or secret government projects or something and you’re sworn to secrecy, in which case, you should probably just make something up, ‘cause I wanna hear a stor--
BOY
No, no. I just…I don’t really think I have a best day ever. My whole life’s been the same.
GIRL
…wowwwww. That sucks.
BOY
(long pause, he stares at her while she flips through the book) What is it that you’re looking for, exactly?
GIRL
I don’t know. I don’t… know... (Scans a few pages of the book) Not this. (Adds the book to another stack)
BOY
No, I mean… here. In college. You’ve already seen what success brings… if that‘s not good enough for you, then--.
GIRL
What?
BOY
Well… you’re well off. You’ve got money. You’re rich. Shouldn’t that be enough?
GIRL
(growing angry/flustered) No, no, I‘m not rich. My parents are. For fuck’s sake, man. I am more than a byproduct of my parents’ poor reproductive choices. I am a living being. I have a heart and I breathe and I think. And money isn’t everything to me, okay? Maybe there’s more to life than a picket fence.
BOY
…well, I’m just saying.
GIRL
Saying what?!
BOY
…never mind.
GIRL
(pause)(under breath/aside)Fuck. (longer pause.) What do you want to do with your life?
BOY
Like a job?
GIRL
No. what is your purpose. Your higher calling.
BOY
….so, like a career?
GIRL
(frustrated) No. Fuck, no. your career is not your life. Forget about money and cars and all of this (sweeping gesture to audience). What do you want out of your life. Think.
BOY
(Pause)To be better than my dad.
GIRL
Why?
BOY
I donno. Just gotta prove it I guess.
GIRL
Prove what? That you’re good enough?
BOY
Yeah…well, I mean--
GIRL
(growing more and more animated/angry) Oh, god, jesus, th- (sigh) there you go again, with your, (exasperated sigh)…. Prove it to who?! To them (pointing gesture to audience)?! To these ignorant, superficial assholes?! They don’t give a shit what you do, man! They’re all focused on their dollars and fucking cents! Why are you trynna impress these shapeless faces, these tired SHEEPle!! They’re in their own god damned worlds. Why the hell are you trying to be like that? Like them? (yelling by this point) Just formless in a fucking crowd? You’re like an amoeba, like a fucking slide under a microscope, man, but nobody gives a shit what phase of osmosis you’re in, you’re just… fucking… (quieter) fuck, man, why do you have to prove it to them? Why do you have to prove anything?
BOY
(stares at her and pauses for a long time) My best day ever. My best day ever smelled like tortilla soup and scotch whiskey and cigarettes. The day I left home to come here. My mom wouldn’t talk to me-- she wanted me to stay home forever. Wanted me to be her support. God knows her husband wasn‘t there for her. My dad was… he was drunk. Passed out on the couch with the tv blaring and an ashtray in his lap. My mom, she gave me this look, like, please don’t go. Or maybe it was more like take me with you. Get me out of here. And she looked like if I took one more step away from her, she’d literally fall to pieces. But I walked out that door, and I packed my shit into the car, and I left. And I never looked back.
(HE walks off stage into the audience, leaving HER alone on stage, staring into the crowd, unsure. SHE takes off her wig, turns it over and over in her hands, downcast eyes. SHE turns and exits stage right or left, doesn’t matter, just not into audience. Lights out.)
fuckin weird, man.
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