tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-77868826236272892092024-02-18T22:11:47.638-08:00hype nostalgic.(in your chest) (in your chest) (in your chest)tobiashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09645850626050880139noreply@blogger.comBlogger336125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7786882623627289209.post-5603582232550127412011-05-04T21:29:00.000-07:002011-05-04T21:30:55.985-07:0010/20/10sometimes, i wish it all would be the same.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />(back when we thought we were invincible and we didn't take each other lightly).tobiashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09645850626050880139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7786882623627289209.post-15487079996207654812011-05-02T19:16:00.000-07:002011-05-02T19:19:35.627-07:00you.And I am fool<br />for not understanding<br />just how important the moment(s) were when they were being experienced.<br />The small times,<br />those small times.<br />Like...<br />driving your aunt's car and listening to mixes you made back in High School...<br />or.<br />like, having yard sales in the mornings with your mother, selling our things.<br />Or,<br />lying in bed with you.<br /><br />If I have learned anything,<br />I have learned that I should never want more than I have.<br />Excess does not mean happiness (I should fucking know that).<br />If I will learn anything,<br />it will be that I am grateful for the present and for knowing and loving you.tobiashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09645850626050880139noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7786882623627289209.post-16870269131856996362011-05-02T19:11:00.000-07:002011-05-02T19:13:22.621-07:00j.I don't want Jordyn to leave.<br />Ok, I mean I do want her to do this for herself but there is a tiny space floating somewhere that would be quite alright being selfish and having her here.<br />But if it really came down to it,<br />I would not want her to pass this up.<br /><br />But as I was sitting down in the Starbucks by my work,<br />something sunk in.<br />Once she leaves, there will not be anything to look forward to when I come home.<br /><br />Fuck.tobiashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09645850626050880139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7786882623627289209.post-53691291898739692172011-04-18T21:37:00.001-07:002011-04-18T21:46:09.561-07:0048th st.fuck. that house. there was a fence surrounding that house.tobiashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09645850626050880139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7786882623627289209.post-60789570546094526912011-04-18T21:36:00.000-07:002011-04-18T21:37:08.322-07:00YOU DON'T HAVE Abig mouth.tobiashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09645850626050880139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7786882623627289209.post-65735248158330346132011-04-05T19:45:00.000-07:002011-04-05T19:51:37.570-07:0026/21/18/11this mid life crisis is really only a thesis, both end with "is" and "is" can only mean one real thing. there is no danger. this is exciting. this is the time when doors will be opening-not closing. everything can mean nothing or something-depending on how i look at it. and currently, i am tired of staring at the dreary. so, i will be a creator of sorts and rally odd thoughts on the past and futures and worry not. WORRY NOT.tobiashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09645850626050880139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7786882623627289209.post-22838185335970237092011-04-04T19:57:00.001-07:002011-04-04T20:02:59.140-07:00wigs.wigs. they were different colors, sometimes. and to think that she must have cared a whole lot to have her babies back that she would go through all of the trouble of buying a few wigs. i wonder what made her choose certain colors? i remember her hair has always been the color of Auburn. I remember wanting to dye my hair in order to match hers. I remember when I looked up to her. I remember when she was our hero. Ours. My brother and I. That's right. I have a younger brother but sometimes, i forget that he is not the elder. Older. Older than I. So, she bought wigs and became a disguise. All the while, I-never knowing-that she would forever be a disguise. Even to her own children. I know this now. 26, and now it finally hits me.tobiashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09645850626050880139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7786882623627289209.post-40309864202318683422011-04-04T19:50:00.000-07:002011-04-04T19:55:10.690-07:00remember thatwhen i was younger, i used to read. i read to take myself out of the element. i read because i had to. there was nothing else to do to distract me from what was around me. i think to some degree, I still read for this same reason. hide yourself in some pages, forget what is real forget what is not. my mother. she was always alone. fraught with anger, there have always been two sides to her. i think maybe the process of poverty, or maybe it's in the genes- or maybe she was exposed to filth as a child- there is no endpoint to excuses. (remember that) my mother. her skin has always been the same color. no emotion i'm all emotion. no emotion coems through her. i think it's maybe the cycle of her frustrations, or maybe it's her environment, or maybe it's the people that linger and hover around her- there is no endpoint to excuses (remember that) i stay and linger and hover around her over her over her over her as if i can protect her. but i know how this shit is going to end.tobiashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09645850626050880139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7786882623627289209.post-45796216141162373932011-04-04T19:35:00.001-07:002011-04-04T19:35:55.208-07:00familiathis music in the hotel lobby is draggin' me down. my family is a fucking joke. they are bringing me down.tobiashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09645850626050880139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7786882623627289209.post-5646762761715656122011-03-28T19:40:00.000-07:002011-03-28T19:52:07.342-07:00solo swell"knowing mother, I knew that I would never really know mother" everyone has left the hotel for dinner. it is roughly 7:40pm and the door has stayed shut for some time. everyone is walking down the blocks that i have walked so many times before. this city is Sacramento this city was where we once loved one another. so many others. lately, all i ever do is think of the past. i don't mind this except for the fact that it then creates a gnawing pain that won't stop. sometimes it's at my side, other times it is headed more toward my lungs. at times, i feel it losing it's color. but it just keeps on going and my mind starts racing. too much remembering. can you please lose this memory bank faster? what the hell is going to happen if i do end up losing my memory? MOTHER. shit happened during childhood that wasan't supposed to. FATHER neglect is a very heavy thing.tobiashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09645850626050880139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7786882623627289209.post-82307834648709707232011-02-28T21:58:00.000-08:002011-02-28T22:05:00.171-08:006th st never leaves menostalgia. <div>the deranged best friend. </div><div>all i see are numbers</div><div>all i think about is that porch </div><div>we used to sit in</div><div>dangling our legs over the grass</div><div>toes in the air</div><div>eyes to the sky</div><div>wide</div><div>high</div><div>and you were always high</div><div>popping some pills</div><div>smoking</div><div>taking</div><div>talking in the dark park</div><div>at night counting the angels</div><div>i wanted to be your angel</div><div>but you wouldn't let me hold your hand</div><div>but you wrote me a love letter</div><div>i have it still</div><div>somewhere</div><div>do i?</div><div> i do.</div><div>i found it as a surprise in a box with other letters and papers that i should throw away</div><div>the best thing about that house was that there were secrets and confidences</div><div>that we all never threw away</div><div>seriously</div><div>they are still buried deep inside there.</div><div><br /></div>tobiashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09645850626050880139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7786882623627289209.post-62216110139343061752011-02-14T17:54:00.001-08:002011-02-14T17:54:27.184-08:00ODD FUTUREyou are intriguing me.tobiashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09645850626050880139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7786882623627289209.post-68337066502074959222011-01-03T19:44:00.000-08:002011-01-03T19:46:29.611-08:00OUT OF SIGHT, OUT OF MINDThis new years started off hopeful.<br />But by the time 1am trolled in,<br />alcohol and tempers ruined what could have been a very peaceful and memorable night.<br />And yes,<br />this new years will be remembered<br />but not for the right reasons.<br /><br />Oh, well. Goodbye you.<br />Can't let dumb shit get me down.<br /><br />Here's to the rest of the year with high hopes and big sighs.tobiashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09645850626050880139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7786882623627289209.post-13152016672414877442010-12-29T22:05:00.000-08:002010-12-29T22:08:31.635-08:003rd st.i remember<br />awkwardly getting out of my car<br />it was night<br />and the lights from the buildings<br />were beautiful<br />because they froze<br />somehow against your face<br />your face-<br />the smile that stretched always-<br />was bigger that day<br />and i did not know your face<br />as well as i would come to.<br />and i did not know as much as i would<br />about you<br />but i knew that you<br />were going to be remembered.tobiashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09645850626050880139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7786882623627289209.post-78499813492058566162010-12-20T22:14:00.000-08:002010-12-20T22:15:49.935-08:0015.and in the early part of the night,<br />you and i<br />huddled next to the foot of my bed<br />and watched the shadows on the walls<br />dance<br />we listened to Devendra in a trance<br />heads together<br />we wanted to kiss<br />but instead we talked<br />about nothing and everything<br />and nothing at all<br />about years upon years<br />and arms upon arms<br />and i knew that you would become my best friend<br />so much more so than any old lover.tobiashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09645850626050880139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7786882623627289209.post-56463906083980383932010-12-20T22:08:00.000-08:002010-12-20T22:09:25.571-08:00duckduckgoosechildren are playing inside the hotel lobby<br />and everyone is going crazy,<br />including myself and my best friend.<br />she is throwing away worldy possessions for freedom<br />and in this, solace.<br />there is nothing wrong with this.<br />i don't know what is going on anymore inside her head<br />but then again,<br />who am i to think that i own her?tobiashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09645850626050880139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7786882623627289209.post-81827338083406496552010-12-08T17:56:00.000-08:002010-12-08T17:57:20.172-08:00WOAH.<br /><br /><br />Life has been pretty strange in such a good way the past few days.tobiashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09645850626050880139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7786882623627289209.post-8569524983412758392010-11-29T20:44:00.000-08:002010-11-29T20:47:04.040-08:00old words.i desire strength like i desire water-<br /><br />i am attracted to honesty like i am to words.<br /><br />i think beauty is a posthumous object and the true sight to herald is a lover's wound or a friend's tears.<br />the only sad thing in this world is the potential people lose when thinking otherwise.tobiashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09645850626050880139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7786882623627289209.post-8911148380907456972010-11-25T20:17:00.000-08:002010-11-25T20:18:32.235-08:001996.the universe is a standstill<br />on the window sill<br />or the bedpost<br />where love had been made<br />with images<br />hovering over the intimate scene<br />a bedroom smell<br />breaths in your hair<br /><br />locks of hair<br />always on the ground<br /><br />always wanting to be around.tobiashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09645850626050880139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7786882623627289209.post-21100002010034823492010-11-15T18:59:00.000-08:002010-11-15T19:00:23.895-08:00angel babythe<br />words<br />fall<br />right through my hair.<br /><br />there's hardly any color left.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />p.s. happy birthday Jeff Buckley. Marry me already.tobiashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09645850626050880139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7786882623627289209.post-51932213172053990672010-11-15T02:24:00.000-08:002010-11-15T02:26:35.100-08:00blursi just love<div>staring out at the ceiling</div><div>some holy penchant that could easily be </div><div>your typical metaphor</div><div>dare i say that word </div><div>unhappiness</div><div>is a long drawn out feeling</div><div>it lingers in subtle doses</div><div>i've had some subtle doses</div><div>and i've been intimate with the share</div><div>some say that things develop over time</div><div>and i'm starting to understand the concept of collapse</div><div>never mind this writing</div><div>it's all dreary shit</div><div>and no one reads it</div><div>and i like that</div><div>all of this can be thrown onto the internet</div><div>and yet it is still obscure.</div><div><br /></div>tobiashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09645850626050880139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7786882623627289209.post-35739234256969936882010-11-15T02:21:00.000-08:002010-11-15T02:23:01.577-08:00october.tell you<div>give me some time</div><div>nothing as beautiful as nothing at all</div><div>(i) tell you</div><div>give me some time</div><div>nothing as beautiful as startin' the war</div><div>tell you</div><div>give me some time</div><div>nothing as beautiful as nothing at all</div><div><br /></div><div>you are</div><div>and </div><div>you were.</div>tobiashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09645850626050880139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7786882623627289209.post-71600486606059716372010-11-15T02:20:00.001-08:002010-11-15T02:21:48.543-08:00rowsbiting my teeth<div>in rows </div><div>counting them with my tongue </div><div>just to keep the peace.</div><div>it's clear that things are not working </div><div>(at this time)</div><div>let us sit back and stare at </div><div>odd examples</div><div>of just how long</div><div>human beings can draw things out.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>(thisofcourseisayonlywheni'mfeelingworthwhile--------------inamomentiwillbempty)</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>tobiashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09645850626050880139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7786882623627289209.post-49978346565767294682010-11-09T18:23:00.000-08:002010-11-09T18:24:08.891-08:00Fallare we both oblivious here?tobiashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09645850626050880139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7786882623627289209.post-72152345396770581722010-11-03T21:12:00.000-07:002010-11-03T21:16:29.408-07:00videoand we are all digging<br />drowning in dirt.<br />you see the four shovels<br />constantly moving-<br />hands can be roughed up with either red clay or brown dirt-<br />overalls, jeans, ballcaps, t-shirts,<br />or maybe it can be really cold-<br />snow perhaps?-<br />either way we are outside<br />and either way we are digging into life.<br />the entire time as the song plays<br />all that you see is the exhausting work<br />that has to be done-<br />that is being done-<br />the motions,<br />the colors,<br />the exhaustion,<br />the sweat,<br />the fucking weariness,<br />the expectations.<br />and then<br />maybe a little let up?<br />only to find what the kids have been looking for<br />pages<br />upon pages<br />fill the dirt<br />and it all happens when the "one"<br />discovers the first piece of their "treasure"-<br />the single 1/3 of a page<br />and then the rest of them get excited<br />and work even harder<br />until they find the "treasure"-the<br />pages and pages<br />hundreds, thousands! of pages<br />in the grave<br /><br />and the end shot<br />is them<br />all four<br />in this massive hole that they have dug for themselves<br />all dirty<br />covered in dirt<br />with huge fucking smiles on all of their faces.tobiashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09645850626050880139noreply@blogger.com0