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Tuesday, February 3rd, 2009
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| Time: | 11:36 am. |
| Music: | purple rain-martin sexton. |
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note to self: bangs are unruly when growing out. taming is necessary through ozone-killing sprays, dubious amounts of manly-smelling gels, and bushwackers, as necessary
hoping teacher won't look at me class. slash mention that atrocious write-up i handed in last week. above all, remember that crying only works when you are five years old and adorable, the effect slightly wears off at 21. now would be the time for a boobjob.
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Sunday, February 1st, 2009
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| Time: | 8:34 pm. |
| Music: | 15 step, radiohead. |
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inspired by dooce
trying not to light my sleeve on fire
turning my room into a smoking den
pondering the possibilty, nay, necessity of writing 7000+ words in german. in the next week. joy
wanting to ride
anthing
still can't figure out technology. shit.
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what unexpected surprise is this
what unpleasant attachment
i surmise i missed the switchback of affection
i expected to crow of your professed love to the rooftops
i imagined i'd brandish the still bleeding head of our pillow talk
triumphant like a battle trophy
see
id say
i can be loved
but really
who would want to love that?
i find not even i would
and instead
instill
my love
in
you
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Thursday, January 10th, 2008
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I thought I could tell you everywhere ive been but the moment I started you reached the end
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Wednesday, September 26th, 2007
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the bees are drowning in the humid air
wings soaked up and limp
sinking to the bottom slowly
of this inverse breathy ocean
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Wednesday, September 19th, 2007
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...and practiced on me... i was too busy dying of laughter beneath the circ desk, however, to be of much help
1. You've always been like the archives room to me: I can look, but not touch
2. Silence is golden. Spending the night with you is platinum.
3. My favorite decimal in Dewey's system is American Film. That's right, 69.
4. I wish your call number was 89.43R.6G and mine was 89.43R.6H so we'd be shelved together
5. Fuck 87.8RN.95G1997. The only call number I want is yours.
6. You're like a functioning bar code (???!) I could scan you all day.
and best of all :)
7. My bed isn't like a library; you don't have to keep quiet.
AAAAAAAHAHAHAHHA
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Thursday, September 6th, 2007
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i'm sorry
the people im with are only imitations
if i could be with you
if god is a dj
life is a dance floor
love is the music
and you are the rythem
i hook up with people only because i can't be with you
lame lame lame
what am i looking for? will i find it again? i don't know. i hope i'm not abandonded on all sides...
if god is a dj...
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we lounge on the grass, and ben sticks hay stalks up his nose. i draw the line when he tries to poke me with them afterwards. pointing at the clouds we conclude sky castles would be ideal living arrangements, except for when in rained; then the furniture would shrink...
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Thursday, February 8th, 2007
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Goodbye, New York
(song from the wrong side of the Hudson)
by Deborah Garrison
You were the big fat city we called hometown
You were the lyrics I sang but never wrote down
You were the lively graves by the highway in Queens
the bodega where I bought black beans
stacks of the Times we never read
nights we never went to bed
the radio jazz, the doughnut cart
the dogs off their leashes in Tompkins Square Park
You were the tiny brass mailbox key
the joy of "us" and the sorrow of "me"
You were the balcony bar in Grand Central Station
the blunt commuters and their destination
the post-wedding blintzes at 4 A.M.
and the pregnant waitress we never saw again
You were the pickles, you were the jar
You were the prizefight we watched in a bar
the sloppy kiss in the basement at Nell's
the occasional truth that the fortune cookie tells
Sinatra still swinging at Radio City
You were ugly and gorgeous but never pretty
always the question, never the answer
the difficult poet, the aging dancer
the call I made from a corner phone
to a friend in need, who wasn't at home
the fireworks we watched from a tenement roof
the brash allegations and the lack of any proof
my skyline, my byline, my buzzer and door
now you're the dream we lived before
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One Art
by Elizabeth Bishop
The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.
Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.
I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.
--Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.
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Wednesday, February 7th, 2007
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we walk uphill and for lack of better i crane my head up even further, towards the stars, pretending i can see them without my contacts. he follows suit and somehow we manage to bump into each other on the even pavement. i laugh, and when he asks why, reply: we look like those kids in class who stare at the pencil stuck in the ceiling tiles until everyone, even the teacher, looks up too. he laughs with me and our breath puffs out the shape of our lungs in the frozen air around us. i shove my hands in my pockets and ask: can you see any shapes? talking about the stars and constellations, that is, and of course he replies he can, he can do everything. his jacket makes his shoulders look bigger but not big enough when he awkwardly tries to sling an arm around my shoulder. i slide my puffy brown down sleeved arm through his and gently push away, in the act of making us face the same angle: is that the one you´re talking about? he doesnt comment on our distance but settles his hand on the small of my puffy brown down back. yeah, can you see the belt? no, of course i can´t see anything without contacts, but i dont say that, instead look longer up into the sky, and see from the trees that we have reached the top of the hill.
crossing the street ice crunches underneath our boots.
mine are made of rubber and leather,
but i cant even remember whether he was wearing a jacket or sweater. he draws closer when the path gets slippery, even though i´m walking steady. we near his building and he pulls my hand with a conspiratol glance and i feel intrigued, what has changed? he quickens his walk and we softly lightly jog the last steps to the corner, im almost chasing him except he wont let go of my hand and pulls me after. suddenly he turns so fast i almost collide and reaches his hand up to cradle my head and kisses and wont let go, i wasnt expecting this but i´ve missed it, denied myself, this sign of affection, physical action indicating attraction. even if i dont really know him, and wait no hold on a minute...i don´t bother asking the stupid question everybody asks: (i know full well what he is doing)
i told you when we left that wasnt going to happen.
and i feel cold and slightly distant. you´re such a good kisser, he trys to wheel, turning one side closer to me and reaching in again. thats not the point, and i think i sound as sad as i feel cold but he doesnt pick up on either. instead he pulls again, harder, and for the first time i see how his shoulders dont need his jacket to be bigger, they are bigger than me regardless, and his arms are stronger, and he knows it.
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Thursday, January 25th, 2007
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Friday, December 1st, 2006
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unsent from two weeks ago
hi. im at work now. blue as ever. ergh. i hope things are going a bit better for you. i hate suzy. and relationships. im no good at either. so lets not talk about them!!
i cant wait for you to meet erich. i was hanging out last night with him and his roommate dave, who is one of the funniest kids i know. the two get along ridiculously well, and because their schedules don't always run the same, dont see eachother a lot, hence the awesome chemistry between them. i dont understand guys, because they just do things that amuse each other, for no reason whatsoever, like shoving at each other's asses with a baseball bat. clear insinuation there lol. and they seem to get a scream out of it. or by invading each others personal space and making a show of tolerating for a minute before kicking the other away. no wait, thats a perfectly sound way to act. kinda seems like guys act and girls think and feel. dammit im boycotting being a girl. wanna join?
dave was born in the south but went to boarding school in MA, as a result he has the coolest accent EVER! its the drawling twang but boston style. so weird. so awesome. and during his own performance on sunday night, erich got sick of playing his songs, so would just kind of end them half way. slash he hadn't finished writing some of them, but whatevs.
k, i feel like an idiot. you know when you do something really embarassing, even tho its not that big a deal, and then you just kind of obsess about it forever until it dominates your life? well, no, nevermind. you know how /i/ tend to do that? i don't think i really get any relationship that doesn't start off with friendship first. like, i find it so hard to work backwards from the physical. which is a really stupid trap to fall into
right, no talking about relationships. but wait i just made an idiot out of my self, cause i kinda had one of those say-it-dont-spray-it moments, and i feel like such a moron, so i thought i would share with you
*insert abject face of misery* i don't know the emoticon one for that yet, but im sure i can make one. picture that painting, the Scream, or whatever its called, where it features a blue man clutching the sides of his head while he wails. I AM IN A GLASS CASE OF EMOTIONAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAA
argh. i need to go home. i want to go home. what about you? btw, mitch hedberg is one of the funniest comediens ever. write if you get the chance, im feeling put out and unsure and that translates to unhappy rar.
tonsolove
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Friday, November 17th, 2006
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hey. ya you. punk. i want you to know. know.
im not going to wait. i don't know what you are thinking,
but you make me want to do something ridiculous
for no reason, just
so i can be as confusing as you. ya you punk.
ive been left alone tonight but i wont be alone
tonight i refuse to be alone tonight
what are you gonna do
about it. leave me alone so i find someone else?
i have someone else(s). i don't know what you are playing.
i want you, but you confuse me. you're here and you're gone
i wont be a drag a pain a chain and ball a girlfriend
i refuse
plus, you confuse me way too much for any of that shit.
just wanted to tell you, even though i wont tell you
that im not going to be alone tonight
but i hope im with you.
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Sunday, November 5th, 2006
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it's good to be in love
it really does suit you
just like everything
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Tuesday, October 3rd, 2006
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and there's peace
peace come with remembering
please stay my memory
cut quick
little bit further down a hysterical corrider
nurse bustling corner
wheeled away
i follow
like leaf on water
absentminded cause i'm forgotten
murky water
god knows what's lurking
jerking you someplace
i can't follow
body stirred up
nothing thrown up
this time
nothing left you this time
except you
so i sail
circles blindly
nurses smiling through capped teeth
apologetic
i don't get it
how long it takes to become
apathetic
stabalized
you cried alive
unlike the day i gave to you
a life to hold
and not to waste
what changed between then
and this
now you lie awake and quiet
still down there
where i can't follow
i thought i loved the water so much
i never knew how much it swallowed
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Friday, September 29th, 2006
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Gray's First Sober Year
This new life is better
than a dozen beer-joint romances
or a hundred drunks at fishing camp.
My habit now is not drinking,
and waking up where I belong.
I can see colors again,
and I don't feel like a turd in the punchbowl
whenever I go around people.
I'll mow the weeds for Sharon
and almost enjoy it. She's even given up
checking my breath whenever I come home.
I went shopping for our anniversary
and wound up crying in the store,
but not the kind of tears you cry
when your wife catches you lying in the shed
with your pistol jabbed up in your mouth
and vodka running out your nose.
The only thing she could think to do
was check me into another detox,
and this time it finally took.
This year has made me different—
vodka could never do that for long.
Some days when I wake up early
and listen to Sharon lying there breathing,
it feels like somebody snuck in while we slept
and changed our sheets.
william notter
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Friday, September 22nd, 2006
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i need an outlet to pour all of my angst. here it is. raaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaawr.
*crickets*
i think i need an obsession. maybe just to keep going. its ridiculous, like my mind needs a fixation of sorts to keep functioning properly. before i was obsessed with breaking up w the bf. now its this stupid lucas. who looks far too much like my ex to make me comfortable. or maybe thats it. but i walked in on him playing electric guitar with two other guys and a drummer, and i totally wanted to jump him there. maybe if i sleep with him i will forget about him. i know he would sleep with me. since when has sex become so casual. should it be like this?
it kinda sucked to find out that he has an obsession, just like he might be mine. i dont want to be the used. i want to be the user. caitlin did coke all this summer, and wouldnt mind trying it with me. mika still hasnt gotten high, so we decided that would be our goal for tonight. even though we have to wake up for white water rafting at 530 tomorrow morning. man thats gonna blow! i wonder why people can be so duplicitous, if thats even a word, loving you one night and not picking up the next. guess its the way it goes. i've been on both ends of the rope, and i know which one i prefer
eeeehhh..later on in the night
i am so drunk
but not
just inhaling these stupid power bars. only not
i haven't eaten in three days
its amazing how easy it is to escape detection here
a little antisociality, and tada, a new life
a whole new world
for me by myself
lucas wasn't picking up his phone
when caitlin called, or when i called him on caitlins
that means he's fucking someone
i think i want it to be me in the near future
i just want to see what all the fuss is about
is it really worth it?
i hope he's as good in bed as molly said he was
dunno
wonder if its a lie, if i've only done it twice
maybe he was expecting someone more experianced
whatever
guess ill find out
:DDDd
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Jump back, what's that sound
Here she comes, full blast and top down
Hot shoe, burnin' down the avenue
Model citizen zero discipline
Don't you know she's coming home with me
You'll lose her in the turn
I'll get her
Panama, Panama
Panama, Panama
Ain't nothing like it, her shiny machine
Got the feel for the wheel, keep the moving parts clean
Hot shoe, burnin' down the avenue
Got an on-ramp comin' through my bedroom
Don't you know she's coming home with me
You'll lose her in the turn
I'll get her
Chorus
Yeah, we're running a little bit hot tonight
I can barely see the road from the heat coming off of it
You reach down, between legs, ease the seat back
She's blinding, I'm flying
Right behind the rear view mirror now
Got the feeling, power steering
Pistons popping, ain't no stopping now
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