Monday, July 27, 2009

suffice.

today is much better.
there's something about waking up early that makes a difference.
driving alone on the freeway with anthony green
watching the sun
the cold air through the sunroof.
then you get coffee and there is no line
because you are up early and the rest of the world is sleeping
and then you sit down and realize that
not everything has
to be so overwhelming.
and you nearly faint with
relief.

Sunday, July 26, 2009

one on one.

the same song on repeat
for atleast 103 times.
don' question it
(you don't have to)
because you are alone.
and alone is what you never wanted.
or was it?

on the carpet floor, a daydream sleep all i hear is the sound of the boys feet shuffling or
lucas's mind rolling
down
the st
airs

(c'mon, i'm empty and i want you).

fast forward to 2 and a half years
and all i do is see her in her brown apron
i want that apron
so i could feel closer to her.
her hair is shorter then
and eyes dash right to left
i want them center
i want them near

(c'mon call it possesive and i want you)

loud screams of silent desire i throw at you
as you turned your back at the bar
as you sleep now at night.
i hold my questions tight in a small manner of keeping things ok.
but i am worthless in restaint
and i hate the word "i"
yet it's all i know
and i hate the feeling of needing someone.
yet it's all i know.


hands feel like someone is pulling on them too tight
wrists are a shattered mess

fingers tapping one on one.

let her sleep on.

i would love if the tour just started already.
i'm sick of the anticipation,
i'm tired of thinking about it.
i 'm also tired of missing things and people and my dog (more than anything).

i think i need fresh air, different faces, and the countryside.
i need to be cramped inside a car with my friends,
uncomfortable and sleep deprived.
i need it.

i also think i need distance in order to justify the way i feel right now.
because otherwise, i feel like a baby who cries too easily.

i'm kinda tired of myself.
want to hide out and scream and then wake up and be alive again.

Thursday, July 23, 2009

my blood jet.

and this weekend will be a blur.
end of thursday and it's already starting.
take me silently, throw me into rythmn
i want her mouth on mine for 12 days
i don't want her absence.
i know that i will sit and stare out the car window and
see her.
it's inevitable.
she is in my blood.


my jordyn faith, will you always make me ache?
(i pray so)

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

5 days.

9 months, 9 months!
and she still adores me.
(i'm a lucky mess)

last week was fucked. i'm glad it's over.
being a woman can be horrible sometimes, esp. when you have all kinds of hormones
making you feel all kinds of things.

this week has been amazing so far.
it's so simple but waking up with a smile on your face
can make your days so much better.

i'm lucky i have good friends who have good advice.
and who don't mind me calling them up frantic.
(thank you)

oh, well. not much to say.
tour in 5 days.
excited yet anxious and a little hesitant to leave my comfort.

we the living is a new favorite.

Sunday, July 19, 2009

why don't you stay?


i have come to the conclusion that a therapist is probably the best solution. 
i'm tired.
and i know that not a lot of people read this thing.
so i don't feel afraid to say it.





(to the best times of my life). -----------------------

Saturday, July 18, 2009

the tv died.

and i guess there is no one else to blame.
you chose the way that you live.
right?






saturday nights mean nothing to me.
they blend into the same threshold of mondays or sundays.

sometimes, i forget that i'm 24.
sometimes, i forget what that even means.

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

mouth mathmatics.

people love anything free.
food of all kinds, even red apples in a blue basket.
counter top coupons and ammenities.
thier demeanor changes rapidly at the mere word
"free".
you see this, you realize how your words (if calculated right)
can persuade them
to do what they normally would not.
people love anything free.
you just speak forthright with no fine print
indicated
and they will gladly take your hand, your latest promotion
or the contest of a lifetime!
it is at this moment that you realize that speech really is the
biggest contender in life.
and that you better shape your speech,
feel the words out
round in your mouth
before laying it all out.
prepare some sort of
message that could not be resisited

because a tounge is the most feared weapon.

we the living

i can't seem to kick it but i guess it's a good habit: reading.
now onto ayn rand's "we the living".
i'm only in about 10 pages deep (including the introduction and forward) so
i have no idea what the story is about other than the preface rand included herself
"it's not about soviet russia. it's about dictatorship all over the world.
it's about man vs. state"

so, seems interesting.
some kind of grand underdog story.

in other news, i'm a broke motherfucker again.
it happens. it doesn't.
it's just not my time right now.
it's ok.
it's not alot of people's times right now, i guess.

Monday, July 13, 2009

the hemingway way.

an ode to the ones with self-inflicted gunshot wounds.

lately it seems that i have been reading about very morbid things such as:
suicides
suicide attempts
drug addictions
morphine
abuse
insanity
hysteria
and
on
and
on.

i don't know why but it all intrigues me.
it's a fast read or an entertaining documentary to watch.

Saturday, July 11, 2009

naked lunch.

biographies are becoming a slight obsession of mine.
genet, buckley, sexton.
i am fresh out of them in my small collection.

william s. burrough's "naked lunch" is my next read.
he was an odd fellow.

i'm pretty sure he won't dissapoint.

Friday, July 10, 2009

72 hours of sleep.

i would like to sleep for 72 hours straight.









i also want to erase a lot of the things that i have written.

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

summer and glass.

all i remember is the constant trembling i felt
before her.
standing in front of me or sitting to the left of me on the porch on I st.
she was beautiful.
she was not mine.
her hair was different but it was growing.
i would lie on my living room floor and think of her while
listening to the cd's she suggested.
yes. it was all very dramatic.
yes. falling in love is very dramatic.

and that night when she came over in that blue and white dress,
my heart fell to her hands
my eyes closed shut
to the right.
i needed no more sight.
this was enough.
this will always be enough.
(i hope)

and last summer was nothing but repetition and glass.
full of odd endings and departures for the night.
she was sleeping in the next room
beside me.
pressed chests to the same floor boards, never knowing.

and i wanted to eat that glass.
keep it inside of me whole.

tender and empty.
violent and wordless.

i remember touching her skin for the first time.

i remember falling fast asleep.

Thursday, July 2, 2009

lost baggage.

my back to you,
lying still
with your sister's soft whispers to her cousin i just recently met.
i see the light in the loft flicker
exhaustingly
on and off.
i wish it was off.
it stays that way the whole night

my back to you,
not meaning to
but this meer gesture can be taken in so many ways.

and this morning, i wake
with aching shoulder blades
and a headache,
purple chest and a lion's jealously.
for what? i do not know.

manic is all that i own.
it's all i've ever owned.
as a child, i lived in my bedroom
tears on the books i read
neverknowingthat thisis what theycall
(...)

i still don't know.
i am needy at times and wholly a contradiction.
i wear wounds on my sleeve and fight off
friends.
i like being alone yet cannot stand to be in that house without her.

contradictions.

what can i say? i love the smell of the past.
it's tempting and furtive
like the blankets of her old bedset.
and i hardly knew her.

at the time. i think we are well worn into each other now.

last sounds.

i've been reading this anne sexton biography and it is making me more manic than ever.
i fear that i allow things i read (or listen to or watch for that matter) affect me far greater
than they should.
if i am reading a story that is sad, i am sad.
happy, happy.
manic depressive, manic depressive and so forth.
i don't want to give up on this book.
i'm halfway through
and she scandals enthrall me
but she was a crazy bitch
and i think that by reading her book
it is making me into a crazy bitch.

not that i am not one already.
i am a fucking mess.
but i mean, she was hurtful and evil at times
and i know for a fact that i am not either of those things
(atleast not intentionally).
she would cheat on her husband numerous times just to do it, just to feel the
comfort of being needed, maybe to feel another's skin.
she would abuse her children.
she would do a lot of crazy shit.

i don't know. i want to try to finish this book so that i can learn about her life
before making hasty judgments.
i know the horrible things she had done
but i want to know why.

also, i deeply admire her poetry.
she may have been a bad person (unintentionally at most times)
but she was insanely honest and wrote with an unheard of fury.

to prove her worth?
to her family?
to her children?
to the literary world?
to men?
to women?

to herself.