Beautiful Losers is what drove me to insanity. it's what drove me to writing for a bit. it drove me to a lot of strange compelling thoughts, etc.
12.15.2009
10.26.2009
(missing you at 10pm is a drag of a cigarette
strange now to think of you, plus two hundred miles away from what i call yr home. the oil paints drip off the loosely stretched canvas onto the 4 lonely sunflowers. the sunflowers sit, perched over & slouching a bit in a transparent vase as i await yr return. i too sit slouched over a bit, killing time by watching the hamsa dangle off my tiny wrist & staring at the letters on my screen. in defense of the evil eye i must say, even all the first edition bukowskis could not have this emotion stray away. & while the smell of turpentine lingers in my sheets i can't help but be reminded that two hundred minutes ago you had filled those sheets with yr tom ford cologne. all that is left is to sit slouching and waiting, while chain smoking the reds you left here for me.
and so i realize it is time to let it unfold.
(collection of memories )
and so i realize it is time to let it unfold.
(collection of memories )
10.21.2009
sometimes i like to ramble cause i can
leave me with grandiose noise !
w/ a wet romantic ear attached to yr brainy nose
that was once kissed by the Egyptians
whispering 'don't look into the eyes on the walls'
symbols creating jibber jabber nonsense full throttle at the neck of it all
you wore your
y-y-yet i don't expect you to understand
love that was found through buffalo coined nickels
in 1929, you weren't even alive kid.
& still, the eggshells broken cost more then what it meant to be a spy
w/ a wet romantic ear attached to yr brainy nose
that was once kissed by the Egyptians
whispering 'don't look into the eyes on the walls'
symbols creating jibber jabber nonsense full throttle at the neck of it all
you wore your
y-y-yet i don't expect you to understand
love that was found through buffalo coined nickels
in 1929, you weren't even alive kid.
& still, the eggshells broken cost more then what it meant to be a spy
lets be other people
im writing to you. the creator telling you
or maybe
yr wrting to me
on how to be a new person
yet im stuck in old traps and yr a saint and i am finally fucking a saint 23 years its taken, or was it 29?
its a new journey.
old
& why did i stumble upon you? was the whole journey embarked to meet you? to write you this letter? to let (?) arise? nonexistances? should i accept all and connect nothing with this? im dampened in my paintines the oneS lying in the corner now....
what did they do to u
why did u ever arrive
do u keep past secrets hidden?
what do you avoid?
how did you let go of your past so easy?
is it so hard with me so its not spoken of?
im running towards my pen again
help me pick up the pieces
let me be yr cheerleader
sing me sad songs
let me conquer life so you too conquer life
will my insatiable curiousity starve me?
did it already?
why do you love me in my way?
how did u know?
am i too downhearted lately?
its because i miss you
no
its because i dont want to do this alone
only with you
i was waiting for yr arrival before i could ever write you these words
why is this all connecting so delicately?
yr teaching me how much i loathe my own self pity
no more self victim role for me
never fit quite right
for so long i was lost in ()
im found in yr arms now
wrapping me in the same shape as them
after i fucked you like you were some omnipotent creatore
a same of todays way
truisms were now revealed
moths still fly near the lights
neighbors are seen walking their dogs
birds begin to chirxp
all of lifes trivials trot on but you boby
you opened the light.
it was all a facade before.
i had to do this
delve into my own brain to realize this
before this my past was not real. my experiences were warped so id be ready for the benefits of you&me
when did you decide to love me?
or maybe
yr wrting to me
on how to be a new person
yet im stuck in old traps and yr a saint and i am finally fucking a saint 23 years its taken, or was it 29?
its a new journey.
old
& why did i stumble upon you? was the whole journey embarked to meet you? to write you this letter? to let (?) arise? nonexistances? should i accept all and connect nothing with this? im dampened in my paintines the oneS lying in the corner now....
what did they do to u
why did u ever arrive
do u keep past secrets hidden?
what do you avoid?
how did you let go of your past so easy?
is it so hard with me so its not spoken of?
im running towards my pen again
help me pick up the pieces
let me be yr cheerleader
sing me sad songs
let me conquer life so you too conquer life
will my insatiable curiousity starve me?
did it already?
why do you love me in my way?
how did u know?
am i too downhearted lately?
its because i miss you
no
its because i dont want to do this alone
only with you
i was waiting for yr arrival before i could ever write you these words
why is this all connecting so delicately?
yr teaching me how much i loathe my own self pity
no more self victim role for me
never fit quite right
for so long i was lost in ()
im found in yr arms now
wrapping me in the same shape as them
after i fucked you like you were some omnipotent creatore
a same of todays way
truisms were now revealed
moths still fly near the lights
neighbors are seen walking their dogs
birds begin to chirxp
all of lifes trivials trot on but you boby
you opened the light.
it was all a facade before.
i had to do this
delve into my own brain to realize this
before this my past was not real. my experiences were warped so id be ready for the benefits of you&me
when did you decide to love me?
lucifer
yr fit for yr days like a suit hemmed on fifth avenue, slinking in the window display, yr on yr toes, sharp as a tact, a rough patched beard to match, a crooked smile, daunting sea breeze eyes only an old soul could carry.
love found under yr hat pressed firmly to yr mind , molded like clay a part of you within my life now
found
unfinished
love found under yr hat pressed firmly to yr mind , molded like clay a part of you within my life now
found
unfinished
weeping willow
also from rehab days
there is a weeping willow tree beside my weeping bench for my weeping withered soul to sit beneath. i'm so scared to lose you. yr the old bull still walking through the pasture. i am not ready for you to go yet.
he's so sick, getting old serving his words carefully to me - tinged with hope and wisdom hes wacky but not so much anymore. i hate being away. always scared. weeping willow, do me some good.
broken nose x seven
over broken teeth
weak bones
decaying muscles
yet
yr stronger than a bull
hair in yr ears
no dream too pretty to heal
yr voice remains strong no sign of yr weakness
clever are the words you served breathed into me
will death bring you okinawa again? or the pyramids? you married, had children.
hindsight of your dreams.
there is a weeping willow tree beside my weeping bench for my weeping withered soul to sit beneath. i'm so scared to lose you. yr the old bull still walking through the pasture. i am not ready for you to go yet.
he's so sick, getting old serving his words carefully to me - tinged with hope and wisdom hes wacky but not so much anymore. i hate being away. always scared. weeping willow, do me some good.
broken nose x seven
over broken teeth
weak bones
decaying muscles
yet
yr stronger than a bull
hair in yr ears
no dream too pretty to heal
yr voice remains strong no sign of yr weakness
clever are the words you served breathed into me
will death bring you okinawa again? or the pyramids? you married, had children.
hindsight of your dreams.
this will be edited one day
OLD
there is a flicker inside my heart: two matchsticks if you will, keeping the spark lit. with shaky palms, it fumbles. often times it wont light. other times, the flame turns iridescent, burns so bright it creates this indigo apocalyptic explosion. the unknown explore these matches in amazement. sometimes, they shake. others are careful. they work hard to keep the spark going. bad blood puts that spark right out. its silly you see. the matches were in the makers heart all along caring. she passed them along to be shared. unknowingly, sometimes the others hands/minds were too shaky and fumbled to try to keep it lit. they did not have the patience. its okay though: the spark is mine and mine alone. i must keep it lit. ignore the jealous ones. the disapprovers. the ones who are always right. they mean no harm. they just don't know better.
there is a flicker inside my heart: two matchsticks if you will, keeping the spark lit. with shaky palms, it fumbles. often times it wont light. other times, the flame turns iridescent, burns so bright it creates this indigo apocalyptic explosion. the unknown explore these matches in amazement. sometimes, they shake. others are careful. they work hard to keep the spark going. bad blood puts that spark right out. its silly you see. the matches were in the makers heart all along caring. she passed them along to be shared. unknowingly, sometimes the others hands/minds were too shaky and fumbled to try to keep it lit. they did not have the patience. its okay though: the spark is mine and mine alone. i must keep it lit. ignore the jealous ones. the disapprovers. the ones who are always right. they mean no harm. they just don't know better.
10.17.2009
come back
i need to find myself i dont want to do this i cant do it again but i want to so very badly choices are trite and cheapened ay?
9.21.2009
communication breakdown
god damnit, you always were unconventional. you hated using rubber bands & erasers & you'd never call me lady cause it'd feel wrong & you'd deny your insatiable sexual appetite but only because you were not so very good, & i always wondered where you grew up. when provoked or asked anything of the sort you'd never tell the truth, instead just state: i never grew up anywhere but on mars . . .
something always got yr attention steered clear of me. yet you'd turn over and mutter in a sleepy kiss wake up & i'd reply with a snap - wide awake its morning ! & oh and tell me a story of the buffalos. or can i tell you a story never learned of arizona? just one more tall tale of the suns setting on the horizons. oh ! & do you think those rusted rocks drip with paint when it's too hot? can one chip the rock bits off and create aztec designs swirled into clothing & minds? please tell me just one more bedtime story? it's so lonely over here, i am begging you.
well, here it goes lady: you are nothing but something cool when you are young one forgot to grow out of.
the end.
something always got yr attention steered clear of me. yet you'd turn over and mutter in a sleepy kiss wake up & i'd reply with a snap - wide awake its morning ! & oh and tell me a story of the buffalos. or can i tell you a story never learned of arizona? just one more tall tale of the suns setting on the horizons. oh ! & do you think those rusted rocks drip with paint when it's too hot? can one chip the rock bits off and create aztec designs swirled into clothing & minds? please tell me just one more bedtime story? it's so lonely over here, i am begging you.
well, here it goes lady: you are nothing but something cool when you are young one forgot to grow out of.
the end.
a mash^
chills hit the back of the throat no sooner or later than the hairs on a back. a shake to the leg & a twitch to the lips & you land just to take-off. yes at it again captain - off to the horizons, beyond the sea. arriving here & leaving there while thoughts bounce off yr binaural brain-waves, which we mistaken for another game of pac-man. here is a boundary so many have crossed yet so few have succeeded to bend the elasticity of their minds to reach new thresholds. what did you say captain? aim for the apologizes?
perhaps you are correct. perhaps i owe you all an apology. you see, this was never of my intent. the games were not meant for dismissal, meant to be traded for a journey into the end of time. but alas, i was pushed back to the beginning & now terms must be dealt with. you always said, you must know the rules before you begin to play. lose & you will be sent back to start. simple as that. fall down the chute while you reach for the ladders & nothing good will ever come. I never did excel in comprehensive listening classes.
& i never meant to get entangled and trapped, either. nevertheless, hide & seek at recess is over. everyone's invited to show & tell now. here there is a strange rebirth occuring in my mind. look into these grey faded eyes, slowing finding colour again. please justlook watch these eyes as i begin the story & understand why this journey has to ocur. but we cannot go back. no going back, there is new. we will find the mystery.
and remember, there are no shortcuts. you will not awake a heaven scented angel. you will never become a sunflower .ginsberg was wrong.
perhaps you are correct. perhaps i owe you all an apology. you see, this was never of my intent. the games were not meant for dismissal, meant to be traded for a journey into the end of time. but alas, i was pushed back to the beginning & now terms must be dealt with. you always said, you must know the rules before you begin to play. lose & you will be sent back to start. simple as that. fall down the chute while you reach for the ladders & nothing good will ever come. I never did excel in comprehensive listening classes.
& i never meant to get entangled and trapped, either. nevertheless, hide & seek at recess is over. everyone's invited to show & tell now. here there is a strange rebirth occuring in my mind. look into these grey faded eyes, slowing finding colour again. please justlook watch these eyes as i begin the story & understand why this journey has to ocur. but we cannot go back. no going back, there is new. we will find the mystery.
and remember, there are no shortcuts. you will not awake a heaven scented angel. you will never become a sunflower .ginsberg was wrong.
9.11.2009
(because i need you)
i'm fearing my small heart again. it's true, i wanted to find a saint. i wanted miracles to blind my tired eyes. perhaps they have. but what you wish never equates to the small facing truth of what you get. yes, miracles of others shine through. but does the shine needs to come from within? what can i say? what can i do? i wanted my xray vision to blind the inner cores of others. i wanted inspiration of mine to leak into heavy hearts of street passers. i wanted to play savior. i'm not used to needing saving. (this is all just a lie now) i wanted my body to dangle like sunflowers perched on a windowsill pocket hidden apartment on the lower east side. i wanted a brainy mind with cracked parts for the bad parts to be hidden in & leak into. i wanted to conduct experiments on boys who forgot to shape their minds. i wanted to show them electrical waves to find their way home. i wanted to follow yellow lines on the road & find MY way home. i wanted faded pictures of brautigan to give shape to me. i wanted to experience the visions only mystics dreamt of. elevate from the chaos, giving myself away to chance. & you, wearing only a beard as a saint would, you, having heavy blue eyes, seeing past the chaos. you, you came for me. & yet, i still find myself speaking through parenthesis.
(because i need you)
i'm fearing my small heart again. it's true, i wanted to find a saint. i wanted miracles to blind my tired eyes. perhaps they have. but what you wish never equates to the small facing truth of what you get. yes, miracles of others shine through. but does the shine needs to come from within? what can i say? what can i do? i wanted my xray vision to blind the inner cores of others. i wanted inspiration of mine to leak into heavy hearts of street passers. i wanted to play savior. i'm not used to needing saving. (this is all just a lie now) i wanted my body to dangle like sunflowers perched on a windowsill pocket hidden apartment on the lower east side. i wanted a brainy mind with cracked parts for the bad parts to be hidden in & leak into. i wanted to conduct experiments on boys who forgot to shape their minds. i wanted to show them electrical waves to find their way home. i wanted to follow yellow lines on the road & find MY way home. i wanted faded pictures of brautigan to give shape to me. i wanted to experience the visions only mystics dreamt of. elevate from the chaos, giving myself away to chance. & you, wearing only a beard as a saint would, you, having heavy blue eyes, seeing past the chaos. you, you came for me. & yet, i still find myself speaking through parenthesis.
9.10.2009
no more is nice
will i ever want to write again?
the words are so thick and muddy and rotted inside my brain.
perhaps one day.
the words are so thick and muddy and rotted inside my brain.
perhaps one day.
8.01.2009
LEARNING HOW TO SAVE FACE IN THE FRIGHTENED DANGERS LYING AHEAD
consist of http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Microwave_auditory_effect
i don't know, something i've been tapping into as of the late...maybe i will go somewhere with this.
SO :
is love an algorithm formed by a binary coalesce, consisting of elements locked inside ones head saved to be determined on a later date? perhaps a rainy day? these past events that flickered in and out of brief moments in my life are now creating a binary-string, no no not binary, instead, digital string, quite advanced lets say. oh wait ! numbers - yes . its a code breaking barriers. perhaps it is the positional representation system; wavelengths are sent out through the numerology's, representing all the characteristics of what one is looking for. depending on our position at that very moment, we sticking to numbers and souls that are in need. the brow is graced with the presence and in lies your touch where a wave of a mystical visions occurs. is it all leading to the final test? the final push play effect; working and jotting and working
(sometimes my mind is so shaky but you bring me the comfort & ill bring the sobrierty and well mix the two and lets see how this one heads out)
maybe instead love is loose left pieces of us, scattered around ashes, forming some unknown knew vibration mechanically or irrationally even sent out to the universe with no oppositions allowed. little pieces of us flicker into particles of ashes around us that while others release these, they swirl together and create a new found sent aroma to the other person causing LOVE
i'm smiling wide somewhat shyed at you
with eyes slinted curiouser and curiouser for you
i don't know, something i've been tapping into as of the late...maybe i will go somewhere with this.
SO :
is love an algorithm formed by a binary coalesce, consisting of elements locked inside ones head saved to be determined on a later date? perhaps a rainy day? these past events that flickered in and out of brief moments in my life are now creating a binary-string, no no not binary, instead, digital string, quite advanced lets say. oh wait ! numbers - yes . its a code breaking barriers. perhaps it is the positional representation system; wavelengths are sent out through the numerology's, representing all the characteristics of what one is looking for. depending on our position at that very moment, we sticking to numbers and souls that are in need. the brow is graced with the presence and in lies your touch where a wave of a mystical visions occurs. is it all leading to the final test? the final push play effect; working and jotting and working
(sometimes my mind is so shaky but you bring me the comfort & ill bring the sobrierty and well mix the two and lets see how this one heads out)
maybe instead love is loose left pieces of us, scattered around ashes, forming some unknown knew vibration mechanically or irrationally even sent out to the universe with no oppositions allowed. little pieces of us flicker into particles of ashes around us that while others release these, they swirl together and create a new found sent aroma to the other person causing LOVE
i'm smiling wide somewhat shyed at you
with eyes slinted curiouser and curiouser for you
7.15.2009
7.14.2009
"The road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom."
daydreaming of
morphine
dilulads
oxys
roxies
heroin
and
amphetamines
please
this life is so boring. i don't want to be near anyone or anything or anywhere i just want to sit in my room be skinny enjoy my old ways
now
it is annoying to go to work
school
live
live
live
i am not even living
im existing
i was living before
enjoying
wah wah wah
keep whining lizzy
its gonna get you realll far
& for some burroughs:
The hallucinogens produce visionary states, sort of, but morphine and its derivatives decrease awareness of inner processes, thoughts and feelings. They are pain killers; pure and simple. They are absolutely contraindicated for creative work, and I include in the lot alcohol, morphine, barbiturates, tranquilizers—the whole spectrum of sedative drugs.
morphine
dilulads
oxys
roxies
heroin
and
amphetamines
please
this life is so boring. i don't want to be near anyone or anything or anywhere i just want to sit in my room be skinny enjoy my old ways
now
it is annoying to go to work
school
live
live
live
i am not even living
im existing
i was living before
enjoying
wah wah wah
keep whining lizzy
its gonna get you realll far
& for some burroughs:
The hallucinogens produce visionary states, sort of, but morphine and its derivatives decrease awareness of inner processes, thoughts and feelings. They are pain killers; pure and simple. They are absolutely contraindicated for creative work, and I include in the lot alcohol, morphine, barbiturates, tranquilizers—the whole spectrum of sedative drugs.
7.10.2009
7.05.2009
back on the ides of MARCH i died a little bit
in this mind of mine, the atoms are not all set into places anymore where they should be. they are slowly scattering, spiraling into the depths of the crevices of a deteriorating unicorn like dream world fantasy take my hand come with me to the voice of the unknown. where the walls are open and roses in the closet are drawn by others planted into this situation .
i've been planted into a sticky situation of sunflower beams growing from my mind, exploring a world filled with delusions. is it so very wrong my malicious intent, i am only aware of after it happened? how do i conduct experiments anymore when my mind is blank? its a slate of atoms not delicately interconnected no more no no instead, instead it is drawn like a puzzle piece with all the wrong pieces placed into the wrong boxes, we wont solve this; fix this. interactions are making the one unstable. i cant stand my own mind. its blank.
help.
why are my thoughts so scattered? why did i misplace myself? am i the angel headed hipster fallen saint crank heart lost in my own world that ginsberg cried about? have i done this to myself? why am i misplaced? feel me out: make this better.
into a vehicle we sat where typewriter ink streamed from the seatbelt to the chair; there were pianos chiming and vibrations and you spoke of brooklyn's nighttime daydreaming fantasies; nothing was real and everything was an illusion in this world i created you stated. are you real? is anything that has gone on lately? when did i come to this? i am yr burnt piece of toast thrown away . i am the overcooked slice of pizza nobody wants to eat. i am the defected Christmas toy returned before a new year has had the chance to arise.
my mind is crooked. it needs fixing. please be kind, fix this mess i have been entangled in. i cannot do this alone.
i've been planted into a sticky situation of sunflower beams growing from my mind, exploring a world filled with delusions. is it so very wrong my malicious intent, i am only aware of after it happened? how do i conduct experiments anymore when my mind is blank? its a slate of atoms not delicately interconnected no more no no instead, instead it is drawn like a puzzle piece with all the wrong pieces placed into the wrong boxes, we wont solve this; fix this. interactions are making the one unstable. i cant stand my own mind. its blank.
help.
why are my thoughts so scattered? why did i misplace myself? am i the angel headed hipster fallen saint crank heart lost in my own world that ginsberg cried about? have i done this to myself? why am i misplaced? feel me out: make this better.
into a vehicle we sat where typewriter ink streamed from the seatbelt to the chair; there were pianos chiming and vibrations and you spoke of brooklyn's nighttime daydreaming fantasies; nothing was real and everything was an illusion in this world i created you stated. are you real? is anything that has gone on lately? when did i come to this? i am yr burnt piece of toast thrown away . i am the overcooked slice of pizza nobody wants to eat. i am the defected Christmas toy returned before a new year has had the chance to arise.
my mind is crooked. it needs fixing. please be kind, fix this mess i have been entangled in. i cannot do this alone.
can someone, such as myself, with such a rotted soul, become someone with a kind heart? I don't think it is true.not in this atmosphere anyway. i fake it often. i fake most emotion. it's true - in these settings i am quite selfish.
how long can i stay sober for?
i've drank two separate nights. i have only told one person this. now its written on here. i haven't been drunk yet.
i know i will use heroin again. i can't fucking wait. it's all just a matter of time. mater of when i can score big. matter of when i can go out with a bang ! matter of when no one is home to catch me this time around. i am done with this life. it's just not for me.
i want to go live in the clouds.
this life is too real for me to imagine.
just faking day by day this superficial happiness.
i've been happy in the past.
i know there are future happy days to come.
i
just
dont
want
them
is that such a crime? if i know what i want, why does the rest of the world have to be selfish, then reply that I AM selfish? I worked fine at my job. i went to classes. i always used my own money. i paid my own rent.
everyone has their vicerag.
some people like twisted fucking pornos.
some people get their rocks off drinking.
some people live the double life. work hard play harder.
me? i liked to tie up. so the fuck what.
its not legal, so let the cops take care of it. dont play patrol on my life mother. its not yr fucking job, nor will it ever be.
i'm sick and tired of everyone telling me to make my own decisions, yet i am still babied.
i am the worlds oldest baby & i want to try on new skin for a while. perhaps go off the radar. perhaps just end it all already.
i wont pass out while trying to end it this time. i've measured it all out. just a matter of when i have money again.
i have too many bills to do what i really want. i have too many responsibilities. i would have gotten sober for 20 grand if they sent me to school in california. instead - rehab. where i used it as a nice break from reality. i told them i'd be using again. and i will. because it was not what i wanted, and guess what, i am a selfish cunt when on long island.
i wasnt like this in rehab. you know, its funny, as much as i hated being away...i was nice as hell. i treated everyone with the respect they deserved. noone was judging me for the first time. noone was trying to romanticize life and compliment me just to get in my pants. it was all pretty real.
it felt so much more realistic than this world ive painted for myself.
i need a break from this all.
its funny, im more depressed now, then when i was using.
ha !! Jokes on me !!!
how long can i stay sober for?
i've drank two separate nights. i have only told one person this. now its written on here. i haven't been drunk yet.
i know i will use heroin again. i can't fucking wait. it's all just a matter of time. mater of when i can score big. matter of when i can go out with a bang ! matter of when no one is home to catch me this time around. i am done with this life. it's just not for me.
i want to go live in the clouds.
this life is too real for me to imagine.
just faking day by day this superficial happiness.
i've been happy in the past.
i know there are future happy days to come.
i
just
dont
want
them
is that such a crime? if i know what i want, why does the rest of the world have to be selfish, then reply that I AM selfish? I worked fine at my job. i went to classes. i always used my own money. i paid my own rent.
everyone has their vicerag.
some people like twisted fucking pornos.
some people get their rocks off drinking.
some people live the double life. work hard play harder.
me? i liked to tie up. so the fuck what.
its not legal, so let the cops take care of it. dont play patrol on my life mother. its not yr fucking job, nor will it ever be.
i'm sick and tired of everyone telling me to make my own decisions, yet i am still babied.
i am the worlds oldest baby & i want to try on new skin for a while. perhaps go off the radar. perhaps just end it all already.
i wont pass out while trying to end it this time. i've measured it all out. just a matter of when i have money again.
i have too many bills to do what i really want. i have too many responsibilities. i would have gotten sober for 20 grand if they sent me to school in california. instead - rehab. where i used it as a nice break from reality. i told them i'd be using again. and i will. because it was not what i wanted, and guess what, i am a selfish cunt when on long island.
i wasnt like this in rehab. you know, its funny, as much as i hated being away...i was nice as hell. i treated everyone with the respect they deserved. noone was judging me for the first time. noone was trying to romanticize life and compliment me just to get in my pants. it was all pretty real.
it felt so much more realistic than this world ive painted for myself.
i need a break from this all.
its funny, im more depressed now, then when i was using.
ha !! Jokes on me !!!
7.02.2009
i never understood do it yourself projects,
or forced words,
or faking love just to clear loneliness
i never understood why i have to go to college
or rather
why i have to pay so fucking much to LEARN (okay maybe i understand the market but still..)
why finding new friends & traveling is TABOO
how we have to find ourselves and represent ourselves through our exterior image
why everyone is too fucking lazy to peel the mask away
why it matters so much to everyone if i keep my well paying job OR actually live for myself
i'm done living for everyone else
the more i do it
the more it breaks my heart more and more to realize the commodity ive become to everyone
im just another fashion trend lurking in and out of your closet
i'm just yr favorite toy that will be on the shelf soon enough
i'm sober yes, but happy? no. i was happier before. noone believes this. it was easier to numb all the shit rotting away at my miserable days.
yes i have friends too many though that i dislike
i just want a change of scenery
i don't want to be on long island anymore.
i was happy once you know
or forced words,
or faking love just to clear loneliness
i never understood why i have to go to college
or rather
why i have to pay so fucking much to LEARN (okay maybe i understand the market but still..)
why finding new friends & traveling is TABOO
how we have to find ourselves and represent ourselves through our exterior image
why everyone is too fucking lazy to peel the mask away
why it matters so much to everyone if i keep my well paying job OR actually live for myself
i'm done living for everyone else
the more i do it
the more it breaks my heart more and more to realize the commodity ive become to everyone
im just another fashion trend lurking in and out of your closet
i'm just yr favorite toy that will be on the shelf soon enough
i'm sober yes, but happy? no. i was happier before. noone believes this. it was easier to numb all the shit rotting away at my miserable days.
yes i have friends too many though that i dislike
i just want a change of scenery
i don't want to be on long island anymore.
i was happy once you know
6.21.2009
6.14.2009
never finished
“Whether a person feels positive or not is kind of a comment on their personality and of no great interest. You can find positive signs or you can find negative signs. How you evaluate them depends on something that happened in your life recently or something like that. There's no objective way to do it. The important thing is you try to commit yourself to making the positive signs more real. Suppose you felt that there's 99 percent of a probability that human civilization is going to be destroyed in the next hundred years, but one percent chance it won't be, and that one percent offers some opportunities to do something. Well, you commit yourself to that one percent.” CHOMSKY.
Individuals perception untainted by others influence does NOT exist.
So if we cannot see it, is it there? Is the possibility for a changed future there, if we cannot create the vision for it? There are things we can envision: our car sitting in the garage waiting for us, where we were prior to this retreat, the books lurking in the corner of our bedroom, our clothing slinking past us in the closet, the hidden pills taken to avoid feelings and emotions, our friends who are circling around us, even those who we have only met once or twice.
We act on our primitive - emotional - perception, not necessarily the rational one. This is due to our limbic system. It creates little folded pieces of clothes in our dresser so to speak; we fold our memories - both positive and negative - and safely keep them tucked inside - all developing and changing how we foresee our future and how we may react in future circumstance.
And now, many of us are left, devoid of all hope, with a belly full of apathetic emotions, not knowing where to turn, being afraid of a future - afraid of change, afraid of letting go of those blankets of resentments and playing the victim role, in order to change our future. Without personal growth, no real change can develop. We are a country that depends so much on human communication, hearing and speaking to each other, that we see little of the larger scheme. Too often when asked to recall events, we do not know what the person was wearing, who was driving, where we were, how the weather was, and so on and so forth. We lose so much of the larger picture of 'reality.' This is similar to the mending of my seasons. For our grandmothers were seamstresses so why have I not picked up this hobby? Re-created the garment? Re-created my mind. It's a slow process I suppose. Like picking up the needle to stitch for the first time, instead of using it to shoot myself. It's learning again. Re learning how to deal with all these fuck ups I've created.i have a leaky mind that needs repair. needs patching. i cannot do this simply by socializing in this group. it's much more for me. it's re-creating how to see. how to hear. how to use my senses intertwined with one another. how to learn how to see the larger scheme of things in order to obtain self empowerment, self happiness, and above all, feeling more than just okay at where I stand in society.,
We are told here, that this is a marketing research group. How does noone else see this? How does no one else realize that although the program is on the brink of something great (through learning, re-learning, observing and so forth) how does no one see that because this is an experiment, we are the subjects, we are doing exactly what we do (perhaps it is subconsciously...) because we are being watched? Tested? What if there were no cameras? What if our answers were not used for research? I know I would be acting differently. What if we knew we could get away with more? We are all sitting here, dumbfoundedly, obeying rules that are not necessarily there in outside circumstances. DOES anyone realize that this affects our future results? Things are not so easy on the outside world. We are so protected here, like newborns, we are all newborns and being watched and nutured...only...we are adults. we are choosing to listen and see what we want to see. Things pass my mind all the time here - I do not have to be on gaurd, someone else is on gaurd for me. I do not need to listen to everyone speak, for they will speak anyway, sometimes forced, sometimes not. Forced conversation really aggravates me. Especially ice-breakers, and conversations that may not necessarily come about. Why? Because it is all another little experiment to see how people answer things when put on the spot. Why not let things come natural? This program is here to tell people how to make better choices; how to learn how to overcome with what we went through in the past; yet we are treated like infants. We are fed. We do not need to clean. It is a comfort zone while we get 'better' or like they like to say, while we learn how to re-adjust to society. Talk about victimizing ! We are treated like the victims ! Never have I ever had it this fucking good! And I will never again. Hence why it is so easy to adjust here; to fit in, to feel at 'home.' All the circumstances surrounding me allow for this, helping open my mind to reach my goals and dreams when we get home. There are no external forces. Why don't they teach us a lesson on external forces? And i'm not talking with drugs. I am talking with dealing with serious issues here. Dealing with death, dealing with the fact that many of our friends are dead, dealing with rapes, dealing with not having a steady foundation at home to walk into. Are we now supposed to be ready for this?It's a big joke. It really is. I am taking the positives from this program, however, does no one else see the problem with this?It is bogus ! Because we know it's an experiment from a research group, we immediately act differently, whether we forget this or not. we are swaying our senses because we are told to. This is insanity !!! wake the fuck up. this is an alter-reality so to speak.
Perhaps I'm just mad. Perhaps I am correct. Perhaps my ideaologies are shifty too. We start to do dishes. We compliment one another. We act like this really happens in a day to day situation. No one has qualms or questions it. It almost amuses me. Let me see how many people I can compliment today. Let me see how many people tell me I look pretty, just because my hair is straightened. Let me see how many people invite me to play an activity, even though I do not necessarily like the activity OR get along with them. Call me a pessimest if you will, call me unvisionary, call me a breath of fresh air, fuck I do not care what I am called, but lets realize this is not our true identity here. You are being lied to. This is so humourous. Lets see if love can exist after this place, or is it love because of the atmosphere we are put in.
Individuals perception untainted by others influence does NOT exist.
So if we cannot see it, is it there? Is the possibility for a changed future there, if we cannot create the vision for it? There are things we can envision: our car sitting in the garage waiting for us, where we were prior to this retreat, the books lurking in the corner of our bedroom, our clothing slinking past us in the closet, the hidden pills taken to avoid feelings and emotions, our friends who are circling around us, even those who we have only met once or twice.
We act on our primitive - emotional - perception, not necessarily the rational one. This is due to our limbic system. It creates little folded pieces of clothes in our dresser so to speak; we fold our memories - both positive and negative - and safely keep them tucked inside - all developing and changing how we foresee our future and how we may react in future circumstance.
And now, many of us are left, devoid of all hope, with a belly full of apathetic emotions, not knowing where to turn, being afraid of a future - afraid of change, afraid of letting go of those blankets of resentments and playing the victim role, in order to change our future. Without personal growth, no real change can develop. We are a country that depends so much on human communication, hearing and speaking to each other, that we see little of the larger scheme. Too often when asked to recall events, we do not know what the person was wearing, who was driving, where we were, how the weather was, and so on and so forth. We lose so much of the larger picture of 'reality.' This is similar to the mending of my seasons. For our grandmothers were seamstresses so why have I not picked up this hobby? Re-created the garment? Re-created my mind. It's a slow process I suppose. Like picking up the needle to stitch for the first time, instead of using it to shoot myself. It's learning again. Re learning how to deal with all these fuck ups I've created.i have a leaky mind that needs repair. needs patching. i cannot do this simply by socializing in this group. it's much more for me. it's re-creating how to see. how to hear. how to use my senses intertwined with one another. how to learn how to see the larger scheme of things in order to obtain self empowerment, self happiness, and above all, feeling more than just okay at where I stand in society.,
We are told here, that this is a marketing research group. How does noone else see this? How does no one else realize that although the program is on the brink of something great (through learning, re-learning, observing and so forth) how does no one see that because this is an experiment, we are the subjects, we are doing exactly what we do (perhaps it is subconsciously...) because we are being watched? Tested? What if there were no cameras? What if our answers were not used for research? I know I would be acting differently. What if we knew we could get away with more? We are all sitting here, dumbfoundedly, obeying rules that are not necessarily there in outside circumstances. DOES anyone realize that this affects our future results? Things are not so easy on the outside world. We are so protected here, like newborns, we are all newborns and being watched and nutured...only...we are adults. we are choosing to listen and see what we want to see. Things pass my mind all the time here - I do not have to be on gaurd, someone else is on gaurd for me. I do not need to listen to everyone speak, for they will speak anyway, sometimes forced, sometimes not. Forced conversation really aggravates me. Especially ice-breakers, and conversations that may not necessarily come about. Why? Because it is all another little experiment to see how people answer things when put on the spot. Why not let things come natural? This program is here to tell people how to make better choices; how to learn how to overcome with what we went through in the past; yet we are treated like infants. We are fed. We do not need to clean. It is a comfort zone while we get 'better' or like they like to say, while we learn how to re-adjust to society. Talk about victimizing ! We are treated like the victims ! Never have I ever had it this fucking good! And I will never again. Hence why it is so easy to adjust here; to fit in, to feel at 'home.' All the circumstances surrounding me allow for this, helping open my mind to reach my goals and dreams when we get home. There are no external forces. Why don't they teach us a lesson on external forces? And i'm not talking with drugs. I am talking with dealing with serious issues here. Dealing with death, dealing with the fact that many of our friends are dead, dealing with rapes, dealing with not having a steady foundation at home to walk into. Are we now supposed to be ready for this?It's a big joke. It really is. I am taking the positives from this program, however, does no one else see the problem with this?It is bogus ! Because we know it's an experiment from a research group, we immediately act differently, whether we forget this or not. we are swaying our senses because we are told to. This is insanity !!! wake the fuck up. this is an alter-reality so to speak.
Perhaps I'm just mad. Perhaps I am correct. Perhaps my ideaologies are shifty too. We start to do dishes. We compliment one another. We act like this really happens in a day to day situation. No one has qualms or questions it. It almost amuses me. Let me see how many people I can compliment today. Let me see how many people tell me I look pretty, just because my hair is straightened. Let me see how many people invite me to play an activity, even though I do not necessarily like the activity OR get along with them. Call me a pessimest if you will, call me unvisionary, call me a breath of fresh air, fuck I do not care what I am called, but lets realize this is not our true identity here. You are being lied to. This is so humourous. Lets see if love can exist after this place, or is it love because of the atmosphere we are put in.
6.09.2009
rush of blood
when the rush of the blood went from me, into an iv, back into me, into yr mouth, drinking my blood, beautiful beautiful beautiful. there's supposed to be something i've gained back from cutting this out: my life.
where are you?
where did my dreams go?
and my soul & heart too?
i'm afraid i don't have those anymore. yes, i am a kind soul. . . (or perhaps, perceived as one)...i don't have a soul. i don't have a mind. my eyes are rotted apples. sour if you will. will anything ever feel as good again? so sue me, i'm a hedonist.
where are you?
where did my dreams go?
and my soul & heart too?
i'm afraid i don't have those anymore. yes, i am a kind soul. . . (or perhaps, perceived as one)...i don't have a soul. i don't have a mind. my eyes are rotted apples. sour if you will. will anything ever feel as good again? so sue me, i'm a hedonist.
6.07.2009
i never asked to be saved
i don't want to be sober
it's so fucking hard not numbing myself
oh good, i can be just like 'you'
the rest of the world
normal and conformed
doing what everyone else does
walking through this show like its some sort of museum, NOT LIFE
walking through my stupid fucking life with stupid fucking goals that i don't give two shits about
HATE SOBER LIFE
stop getting in my brain and check photobooth
i don't want to be sober
it's so fucking hard not numbing myself
oh good, i can be just like 'you'
the rest of the world
normal and conformed
doing what everyone else does
walking through this show like its some sort of museum, NOT LIFE
walking through my stupid fucking life with stupid fucking goals that i don't give two shits about
HATE SOBER LIFE
stop getting in my brain and check photobooth
hospital visits late night for a lung collapsed & i feel as if i betrayed you now, sitting here, you alone, waiting...realizing i'm not coming back to you. i was the nurse who loved you, bringing you a shot of dope so you wouldn't feel any pain...by all accounts you really should have died and yr still alive & you don't have the spark like when we first met...you are not for me anymore...hop hop hop along kiddo
6.06.2009
also,
i laughed today
because
i realized
how fucking beautiful my dope dealer was
who keeps trying to date me
...
i was always nodding out when i saw him
i never even realized.
laugh laugh laugh
beauty in the blind perhaps
fade out
tune in
drop out
sync lips
dialect
never touched
our eyes will never meet
your bad news boy
--
and you, the dealer
always curiouser and curiouser as how to tie up
one thing i never liked was everyone asking me
to tie them up
it's not my job
i tied one person up
they quit forever
they lied & told me they did it before
i've had a lot of guilt over this
there are a lot of things i feel guilt over
but not
over
what ive turned myself into
i miss myself
i really suck sober
i laughed today
because
i realized
how fucking beautiful my dope dealer was
who keeps trying to date me
...
i was always nodding out when i saw him
i never even realized.
laugh laugh laugh
beauty in the blind perhaps
fade out
tune in
drop out
sync lips
dialect
never touched
our eyes will never meet
your bad news boy
--
and you, the dealer
always curiouser and curiouser as how to tie up
one thing i never liked was everyone asking me
to tie them up
it's not my job
i tied one person up
they quit forever
they lied & told me they did it before
i've had a lot of guilt over this
there are a lot of things i feel guilt over
but not
over
what ive turned myself into
i miss myself
i really suck sober
will you still like me when i arrive home & i'm not skin & bones anymore?
when i'm not a heart filled with broken glass for you to mend ?
when you can't kiss my skinny throat, because i'm average now?
when my mind and the delusions are no longer vivid?
when i can't see the shadow people with you?
are we on different pages now?
have you truly turned the page also?
was it all just a phase?
why did we dream in sync j?
i remember we'd sit in my car you & i remember when you told me your dreams stopped.
i kept thinking, but but, mine just begun. . .
you used to dream of me with a child with you & we had then two & i wore sundresses & i'd take them to the park to play in the sand and go on the swings & you'd be watching & you said i was the most beautiful wife & mother you've ever seen
But
in mine
we'd run around the city, collapsing, i'd be searching for you, you'd be searching for heroin, not helping me ... i'd be helping you get the heroin & escape the city but you didn't want anything to me.
they were strange & vivid dreams.
they are quite parallel to the way we treated each other, in retrospect, maybe.
you say yr sober now and i am worried that im going to regress w/ u
when i'm not a heart filled with broken glass for you to mend ?
when you can't kiss my skinny throat, because i'm average now?
when my mind and the delusions are no longer vivid?
when i can't see the shadow people with you?
are we on different pages now?
have you truly turned the page also?
was it all just a phase?
why did we dream in sync j?
i remember we'd sit in my car you & i remember when you told me your dreams stopped.
i kept thinking, but but, mine just begun. . .
you used to dream of me with a child with you & we had then two & i wore sundresses & i'd take them to the park to play in the sand and go on the swings & you'd be watching & you said i was the most beautiful wife & mother you've ever seen
But
in mine
we'd run around the city, collapsing, i'd be searching for you, you'd be searching for heroin, not helping me ... i'd be helping you get the heroin & escape the city but you didn't want anything to me.
they were strange & vivid dreams.
they are quite parallel to the way we treated each other, in retrospect, maybe.
you say yr sober now and i am worried that im going to regress w/ u
6.05.2009
CUE the orchestra...
There is a tiny orchestra singing in an unexplored language floating in between my ears. I am the conductor and yr learning these vowels an sounds with me. yr teaching the conductor the correct rhythm and timing...letting this conductor set the pace.theres an audience watching - theyve all seemed to approve ladadaldabyeeeee
-
i find myself in the most peculiar moments thinking of you
you see,
i can only love when its unfashionable
my heart is fickle & my mind is one of irrational ------
brief moments are for me
There is a tiny orchestra singing in an unexplored language floating in between my ears. I am the conductor and yr learning these vowels an sounds with me. yr teaching the conductor the correct rhythm and timing...letting this conductor set the pace.theres an audience watching - theyve all seemed to approve ladadaldabyeeeee
-
i find myself in the most peculiar moments thinking of you
you see,
i can only love when its unfashionable
my heart is fickle & my mind is one of irrational ------
brief moments are for me
6.04.2009
EAT MY FUCK
i'm still a terrible person. just not drugged for the cinematic debut.
wonderful! front row viewing ! superb !
old haiku
fuck you picasso / with yr blue phase you jaded / pink sunflower skies
boo, foreverjavascript:void(0)
wonderful! front row viewing ! superb !
old haiku
fuck you picasso / with yr blue phase you jaded / pink sunflower skies
boo, foreverjavascript:void(0)
6.03.2009
i cannot spew achoos with the rhythmic kept blues that once rolled off my tongue, no no sweet pea, not anymore. for a sticky oatmeal paste left a residue quite untrue inside this mouth of mine. yes it's hard to swallow - hard to taste the truism of sobriety nowadays. it sings back to me, stuck in my throat, hard to swallow, hard to grasp, hard to get out . . .
i'm ready to fade like the staes we dreamt of in my car. baby, i'm missing the oxies and roxies (ya know, the blues - - not you)
&& i'm not sorry. . .
i've got a case of the dope fiend blues - sometimes yr pantone 292 hair too
oh my junkie love i'm stuck in the heroin hotel ... yet i'm learning to enjoy every minute of it
--
DO NOT RETAIN THIS IN YR BRAIN
prior to the dream of my silenced screams you said you were gouing to leave ! the building went into flames as i sat in the dungeon of a cave with an unfamiliar hand clasping at my face - mouth, technically. inmy dream you were someone who i did not want to leave, not just yet.
STRANGE
CONCEPTS
ARISE
?
CONFUSION EMERGES
in these day dreams
on the seventeenth i fell in love with a bag, both on my first time & on my six month anniversary. i dreamt of the bag, the taste, the bitter residue in back of my mouth
---
18th
& the best kisses ever drove in from lebanon, wrapped in a purple sleeve singing of lifes non existences. and i sang a song back at you regarding a bad decision or two. and yes its true, u come in around the moon with bright eyes lighting up the room...quieting the defeaning broken dreams in my life...yr bringing me coffees so sweet and declicious and sneaking into my room - hey lets cause some mischief so ive got these problems to sort but if you sneak on in ill fix those later & let my hands crawl into yrs and
--
i find myself learning to love in the most pecuilar ways - but mostly when it is not fashionable to love. when love is prohibited, yet still in secrecy encouraged. when yr heart beats to the rhythm of the drums and my legs the drum set and yr hands are the sticks . when the weathers too cool for thelake but not warm enough for yr oversized grey jacket. its becoming evident from the lock in our eyes when they meet. i worry i cannot wear this poker face much longer. i worry because i never want to spend another day without someone so nice in my life. i have never fully felt this way until this point in time. CUE the orchestra...
There is a tiny orchestra singing in an unexplored language floating in between my ears. I am the conductor and yr learning these vowels an sounds with me. yr teaching the conductor the correct rhythm and timing...letting this conductor set the pace.theres an audience watching - theyve all seemed to approve
this is the first time soer i can just 'be'. i felt similar to this once, when young, but never quite so heightened level. romanticism is frightened in between he notes playing. her trying to hide it all ... to save myself...but yet...i still do not fully want to.
you taught me how to explore words again , through new eyes. words again, through new vowels. yr teaching me how to draw again, with improved fingers
im forever changed in the most beautiful way but but but
its all too pretty an real to ever last, please just let it last, oh please let me be ready to leave when the inevitable comes.
most kind gentle human to ever cross my path - enterntally thankful for hat
youve taught a spun out junkie a new way to see life, htank u for helping me open these eyes
i hope this life of happiness continues when we go our seperate paths
i'm ready to fade like the staes we dreamt of in my car. baby, i'm missing the oxies and roxies (ya know, the blues - - not you)
&& i'm not sorry. . .
i've got a case of the dope fiend blues - sometimes yr pantone 292 hair too
oh my junkie love i'm stuck in the heroin hotel ... yet i'm learning to enjoy every minute of it
--
DO NOT RETAIN THIS IN YR BRAIN
prior to the dream of my silenced screams you said you were gouing to leave ! the building went into flames as i sat in the dungeon of a cave with an unfamiliar hand clasping at my face - mouth, technically. inmy dream you were someone who i did not want to leave, not just yet.
STRANGE
CONCEPTS
ARISE
?
CONFUSION EMERGES
in these day dreams
on the seventeenth i fell in love with a bag, both on my first time & on my six month anniversary. i dreamt of the bag, the taste, the bitter residue in back of my mouth
---
18th
& the best kisses ever drove in from lebanon, wrapped in a purple sleeve singing of lifes non existences. and i sang a song back at you regarding a bad decision or two. and yes its true, u come in around the moon with bright eyes lighting up the room...quieting the defeaning broken dreams in my life...yr bringing me coffees so sweet and declicious and sneaking into my room - hey lets cause some mischief so ive got these problems to sort but if you sneak on in ill fix those later & let my hands crawl into yrs and
--
i find myself learning to love in the most pecuilar ways - but mostly when it is not fashionable to love. when love is prohibited, yet still in secrecy encouraged. when yr heart beats to the rhythm of the drums and my legs the drum set and yr hands are the sticks . when the weathers too cool for thelake but not warm enough for yr oversized grey jacket. its becoming evident from the lock in our eyes when they meet. i worry i cannot wear this poker face much longer. i worry because i never want to spend another day without someone so nice in my life. i have never fully felt this way until this point in time. CUE the orchestra...
There is a tiny orchestra singing in an unexplored language floating in between my ears. I am the conductor and yr learning these vowels an sounds with me. yr teaching the conductor the correct rhythm and timing...letting this conductor set the pace.theres an audience watching - theyve all seemed to approve
this is the first time soer i can just 'be'. i felt similar to this once, when young, but never quite so heightened level. romanticism is frightened in between he notes playing. her trying to hide it all ... to save myself...but yet...i still do not fully want to.
you taught me how to explore words again , through new eyes. words again, through new vowels. yr teaching me how to draw again, with improved fingers
im forever changed in the most beautiful way but but but
its all too pretty an real to ever last, please just let it last, oh please let me be ready to leave when the inevitable comes.
most kind gentle human to ever cross my path - enterntally thankful for hat
youve taught a spun out junkie a new way to see life, htank u for helping me open these eyes
i hope this life of happiness continues when we go our seperate paths
6.01.2009
5.27.2009
sea foam green frequencies overtook the stereo !
laugh madly but oh...the sea foam green will dull soon enough. along with the rest of my senses. you see, everything is too clear now. my laugh is too loud & sometimes it even cracks from too much emotion seeping in between my parted lips. my stale blue eyes begin to shift when i am nervous. i even get nervous from staring into yr eyes that are so beautiful it is almost like lucifer himself created them. a cool breeze makes my teeth chatter as i long for a sweater. i am feeling almost too human now. i am giving it all away all too easily. lets leave it all folded nicely up in the air, or perhaps in a sweater, and we can fold it up and hide away in drawers or suitcases as i did with yr letter. . .
things are balanced here which may or may not be good for me. soon enough i will leave, as i always do, but instead it is not on my terms this time. i'll head off back to my world as will you & i'll miss yr charming cap & suit jacket & yr brightening smile & this day dream we have lined with a semi-clear conscious & mind will soon enough rewind to a time in history where a scabbie point injected straight to my vain was good enough for little ol' me.
i'm completely okay with that. yes, oh sure, mmhmmm. . . im having a very nice, pleasant time here. but this is not me. i am a fraud here. FRAUDULANT ACTIVITIES - BEWARE ! (the signs in my brain state this over & over i can never be this kind in my 'reality' . . . or can i?)
NOW STARRING IN FRAUDULANT ACTIVITIES - BEWARE : LITTLE OL' ME ! this is all just my theatrical debut & i am the leading lady ! charming, oh yes oh yes.
it's true. i want to sigh a million and one times because things are too nice and lovely with this and him and all of it but i know it could never last. we could never last. too many steps our in between us in just four weeks. i am okay with this.
its just ----
its just i am scared to go home .... i'll start shooting the junk and falling in love in old daydreams. james is the only one who i can sit and not say a word with while we are high...we sit, nodding, in my car...as he drives my steering wheel with his knees & he ties me up & i crush an adderall & he snorts it all while do all of this...and he's the only person i can sit in silence with while we are both in our own little minds yet we are having the same exact day dream going on. we are having the same conversations and we never had to part our mouths.
things are so different here now. there is a boy who brings me a coffee everyday. he spoils me with compliments. he doesn't degrade me or fight with me or let my psychopathic tendencies ever get in the way. he is too good to me. i'm going to go home and everythings going to be so polar opposite and i don't know how exactly i am going to deal.
ill finish this rant later maybe
the dead angels are calling on me...
things are balanced here which may or may not be good for me. soon enough i will leave, as i always do, but instead it is not on my terms this time. i'll head off back to my world as will you & i'll miss yr charming cap & suit jacket & yr brightening smile & this day dream we have lined with a semi-clear conscious & mind will soon enough rewind to a time in history where a scabbie point injected straight to my vain was good enough for little ol' me.
i'm completely okay with that. yes, oh sure, mmhmmm. . . im having a very nice, pleasant time here. but this is not me. i am a fraud here. FRAUDULANT ACTIVITIES - BEWARE ! (the signs in my brain state this over & over i can never be this kind in my 'reality' . . . or can i?)
NOW STARRING IN FRAUDULANT ACTIVITIES - BEWARE : LITTLE OL' ME ! this is all just my theatrical debut & i am the leading lady ! charming, oh yes oh yes.
it's true. i want to sigh a million and one times because things are too nice and lovely with this and him and all of it but i know it could never last. we could never last. too many steps our in between us in just four weeks. i am okay with this.
its just ----
its just i am scared to go home .... i'll start shooting the junk and falling in love in old daydreams. james is the only one who i can sit and not say a word with while we are high...we sit, nodding, in my car...as he drives my steering wheel with his knees & he ties me up & i crush an adderall & he snorts it all while do all of this...and he's the only person i can sit in silence with while we are both in our own little minds yet we are having the same exact day dream going on. we are having the same conversations and we never had to part our mouths.
things are so different here now. there is a boy who brings me a coffee everyday. he spoils me with compliments. he doesn't degrade me or fight with me or let my psychopathic tendencies ever get in the way. he is too good to me. i'm going to go home and everythings going to be so polar opposite and i don't know how exactly i am going to deal.
ill finish this rant later maybe
the dead angels are calling on me...
release the inmates, ay?!
a bit like jam, tongue tied & sticky eyed
nervous chatter & laughter
sing song me the blue bell rings
calling me towards my silences (but oh, oh i have more to say)
yes my visual senses have become dull (THE ILLUSIONS ARE PLAYING HIDE & SEEK !)
however...however sea foam green floats freely in the grass & oh how i adore the lakes reflection bouncing off my eye & i have never tasted colours in person like this ! only in my mind ! strange starry eyed suprises are not always la prima donna option & yet the moonshine sunrises creep in to my room at dawn while i try to break yr heart but it isn't easy...sing it baby....
nervous chatter & laughter
sing song me the blue bell rings
calling me towards my silences (but oh, oh i have more to say)
yes my visual senses have become dull (THE ILLUSIONS ARE PLAYING HIDE & SEEK !)
however...however sea foam green floats freely in the grass & oh how i adore the lakes reflection bouncing off my eye & i have never tasted colours in person like this ! only in my mind ! strange starry eyed suprises are not always la prima donna option & yet the moonshine sunrises creep in to my room at dawn while i try to break yr heart but it isn't easy...sing it baby....
in a strange suspension of belief, my senses have been heightened and frightened in all the more strange, precarious situations.
for instance (CUE THE INTRODUCTION) --___----
the visuals floating in my brain are not as vivid, however, those are the illusions. i'll learn to create them. the colours of reality however, are far more strange. sea foam green grass grows in the mountains nearby. the skylines are gradient like a blue sweater i wore on one of my first dates in grade nine. the lakes are filled with the song 'la mer' && the reflections hitting my eyes from the skys and the lakes are all cluster fucked like some terribly cheesy glistening eyes but i can't even take how much beauty i see sometimes here ! & i look at the curvatures of yr lips and stare at yr eyes and the lips are like the mountains and yr eyes are of the sea & the purple shirt reminds me of a thousand tulips picked and smudged for the paint raw raw raw a lot of things are raw but nevertheless
never the less
(wait for the cue...wait!)
oh yes, also, sounds are not as vivid my hearing is quite terribly off but my rhythm is slightly back (did i ever have rhythm? do i now?) oh and in the bedroom my sexuality can be compared to lady chatterly...oh my oh my i feel a lot like her lately...state of flux...two worlds...you can never live a double life and truly be content, but we do need some sort of happy balance, between the 'good' and 'bad' , no ? it is all so deviant at home....im sleeping with the devil at home & here it's lucifer....the good one before he realized how goddamn handsome of a devil he is and how much he can get away with....oh, i'm afraid you will come down too and realize. oh believe me. it happens to us all. (just wait for the cue)
for instance (CUE THE INTRODUCTION) --___----
the visuals floating in my brain are not as vivid, however, those are the illusions. i'll learn to create them. the colours of reality however, are far more strange. sea foam green grass grows in the mountains nearby. the skylines are gradient like a blue sweater i wore on one of my first dates in grade nine. the lakes are filled with the song 'la mer' && the reflections hitting my eyes from the skys and the lakes are all cluster fucked like some terribly cheesy glistening eyes but i can't even take how much beauty i see sometimes here ! & i look at the curvatures of yr lips and stare at yr eyes and the lips are like the mountains and yr eyes are of the sea & the purple shirt reminds me of a thousand tulips picked and smudged for the paint raw raw raw a lot of things are raw but nevertheless
never the less
(wait for the cue...wait!)
oh yes, also, sounds are not as vivid my hearing is quite terribly off but my rhythm is slightly back (did i ever have rhythm? do i now?) oh and in the bedroom my sexuality can be compared to lady chatterly...oh my oh my i feel a lot like her lately...state of flux...two worlds...you can never live a double life and truly be content, but we do need some sort of happy balance, between the 'good' and 'bad' , no ? it is all so deviant at home....im sleeping with the devil at home & here it's lucifer....the good one before he realized how goddamn handsome of a devil he is and how much he can get away with....oh, i'm afraid you will come down too and realize. oh believe me. it happens to us all. (just wait for the cue)
T/F: THE HEIGHTENING OF MY SENSES IS DUE TO
Q:/ARE OUR SENSES TRULY HEIGHTENED WHEN WE ARE AWAKENED, SEEING THROUGH NON-STARRY EYED VISIONS?
why have i been running from this ? sexuality has been oozing out of my body, mind, and soul. i am fourteen again. it is all quite silly, really. the way a lick of the lips and a glare of yr eyes is getting all in the well of me concentrating and writing and thinking...oh rehab. explosions in the sky of dawn awakening my soul perched onto my skin breath yr scent on to my body feel my every newly formed curvature bite yr lip ever so gracefully eat away while going down on me pull on my hair as i arch my back
lets stop this nonsense already, o . . .
why have i been running from this ? sexuality has been oozing out of my body, mind, and soul. i am fourteen again. it is all quite silly, really. the way a lick of the lips and a glare of yr eyes is getting all in the well of me concentrating and writing and thinking...oh rehab. explosions in the sky of dawn awakening my soul perched onto my skin breath yr scent on to my body feel my every newly formed curvature bite yr lip ever so gracefully eat away while going down on me pull on my hair as i arch my back
lets stop this nonsense already, o . . .
5.22.2009
self reminder
it's not coming natural for this junkie has been anymore (PLEASE ABANDON ALL EXPECTATIONS NOW)
A DULLING OF THE SENSES
no cosmic vibrations seen in these visionary frequencies. no no no. it is all stale & worthless. in a similar lucid state to the colour of my eyes nowadays.
for an opposition exist between the mechanical mental state i have now situated myself in versus my physical operance. ahoy there captain ! mending season has arrived & i'm barely sitting afloat! how can we expect any changes when there are such strange battles stirring up in our tiny wavelengths !
a strange juxtaposition exists between my will for salvation versus my nature of being this strange version of a fallen saint. do truisms ever arrive at their destination ? will i be okay again? my mind is leaky...and shaky...it is not sharp as a tact anymore. no wit involved. no thinking please.
PERHAPS
there is a sticky keyboard rotting inside my mind . water slipped through the letters & washed away the syntaxes...particles float freely inside my brain in similar discordance to the electronic waves inside a keyboard...
(never sure where i am going with these thoughts...they don't last as long anymore to remember what i was saying)
it's a slap on the wrist for having no wit for not being able to control the thougts of the opiate woes...
how can i go home to you when all i want is the blues?
SHAKY SHAKY...hands & mind & soul (if those even exist)
i miss the oranges too......
for an opposition exist between the mechanical mental state i have now situated myself in versus my physical operance. ahoy there captain ! mending season has arrived & i'm barely sitting afloat! how can we expect any changes when there are such strange battles stirring up in our tiny wavelengths !
a strange juxtaposition exists between my will for salvation versus my nature of being this strange version of a fallen saint. do truisms ever arrive at their destination ? will i be okay again? my mind is leaky...and shaky...it is not sharp as a tact anymore. no wit involved. no thinking please.
PERHAPS
there is a sticky keyboard rotting inside my mind . water slipped through the letters & washed away the syntaxes...particles float freely inside my brain in similar discordance to the electronic waves inside a keyboard...
(never sure where i am going with these thoughts...they don't last as long anymore to remember what i was saying)
it's a slap on the wrist for having no wit for not being able to control the thougts of the opiate woes...
how can i go home to you when all i want is the blues?
SHAKY SHAKY...hands & mind & soul (if those even exist)
i miss the oranges too......
4.08.2009
a reminder ?
Showing weakness is disgusting :
it'll be the death of me while im saving others
and yet . . .
i wish i could deal with reality sober
so sick of having to dull it all down
goodnight and goodluck
it'll be the death of me while im saving others
and yet . . .
i wish i could deal with reality sober
so sick of having to dull it all down
goodnight and goodluck
4.07.2009
leaky minds shift reality
THE ROTTING OF EXISTENCE
Q. how often do we sit, rotting the days away?
where is the screen projecting these experiments? who am i? what have i become ?
america, have we ever had a free market? were are grandmothers not seamstresses ? cant they sew us togethER? where is our constitution? does it exist or perhaps just a myth ? & if it does, how much longer will it?
was it all a social construct?
((cue the smile, a pose so statuary -
i'm nodding into my existence. . .))
i am not yr cherry dew to pick and choose when to do
i am not yr sweet heart soul eye am no seamstress to mend the bends
there is noone to talk to at these kind of hours & i am not quite sure how to handle the darkness i am about to embrace
Q. how often do we sit, rotting the days away?
where is the screen projecting these experiments? who am i? what have i become ?
america, have we ever had a free market? were are grandmothers not seamstresses ? cant they sew us togethER? where is our constitution? does it exist or perhaps just a myth ? & if it does, how much longer will it?
was it all a social construct?
((cue the smile, a pose so statuary -
i'm nodding into my existence. . .))
i am not yr cherry dew to pick and choose when to do
i am not yr sweet heart soul eye am no seamstress to mend the bends
there is noone to talk to at these kind of hours & i am not quite sure how to handle the darkness i am about to embrace
4.06.2009
the farewell party.
day ones always a bitch because the sickness kicks in the moment i awake...some say it takes twelve solid hours, trust me, my motherfucker of a body must be metabolizing so quickly that it kicks in when i awake. the chills come and go, mainly come though. its a sweaty ride & somehow i always keep extremely busy on day one so i don't think too much.
now it's day two and my stomach is in knots still - i have a headache, no shakes yet. this is typical. naseau usually re-sets itself in a few hours. the traces aren't gone yet, hopefully in a week .
but i know ive quit so why do i have the spoon saved? & the dirty points too?
he begins rehab soon & i said i'd quit so why did i save anything? & why into the night, he showed me over and over how to do it myself. silly boy i know how to do it i kept telling him. he said just watch no collapses are allowed.
...
it's sick that a slap on the wrist and a blow to the elbow over and over just to awaken the vains gets me hot. there is something seriously sick in my motherfucking head. in our farewell party we bought more than we could handle & you did most of mine because i promised you no seizures so i was a good girl & you worried about cotton fever & i told you but thats what makes the journey so good...we laughed, you wanted me to cook my own & it made me sad and i got so angry, how could my darling not take care of me but nevertheless all while hitting the tip and driving my car with yr knees and tying a shirt around my arm you still cooked for me. i love you in the most strange parts. it's your eyes looking sad before we find anything, but keeping cool for my sake.it's your eyes when somehow i fanagle my way into drugs & you look at me like i am some sort of mystical shining star. & i look at you the same because youve taught me all i ever wanted to know. its the beauty in the point to which we have destroyed somethnig beautiful : our selves.
now it's day two and my stomach is in knots still - i have a headache, no shakes yet. this is typical. naseau usually re-sets itself in a few hours. the traces aren't gone yet, hopefully in a week .
but i know ive quit so why do i have the spoon saved? & the dirty points too?
he begins rehab soon & i said i'd quit so why did i save anything? & why into the night, he showed me over and over how to do it myself. silly boy i know how to do it i kept telling him. he said just watch no collapses are allowed.
...
it's sick that a slap on the wrist and a blow to the elbow over and over just to awaken the vains gets me hot. there is something seriously sick in my motherfucking head. in our farewell party we bought more than we could handle & you did most of mine because i promised you no seizures so i was a good girl & you worried about cotton fever & i told you but thats what makes the journey so good...we laughed, you wanted me to cook my own & it made me sad and i got so angry, how could my darling not take care of me but nevertheless all while hitting the tip and driving my car with yr knees and tying a shirt around my arm you still cooked for me. i love you in the most strange parts. it's your eyes looking sad before we find anything, but keeping cool for my sake.it's your eyes when somehow i fanagle my way into drugs & you look at me like i am some sort of mystical shining star. & i look at you the same because youve taught me all i ever wanted to know. its the beauty in the point to which we have destroyed somethnig beautiful : our selves.
so, you were caught because you didn't watch your tracks closely...didn't keep precise tabs on where things were, didn't always follow the speed, didn't conform on surface level to get away with bloody hell...
so now, i am back to square one, an attempt to be clean. we changed our breathing patterns today & i awoke with the shakes & a nasty tummy ache & later in the evening osmosis took the best of you & it's a long long struggle
we made love with new breathing techniques & holding hands after i felt i swear i felt it we were one
we were one with everything in the entire world
you fit so beautiful
i hope i feel that one day again
so now, i am back to square one, an attempt to be clean. we changed our breathing patterns today & i awoke with the shakes & a nasty tummy ache & later in the evening osmosis took the best of you & it's a long long struggle
we made love with new breathing techniques & holding hands after i felt i swear i felt it we were one
we were one with everything in the entire world
you fit so beautiful
i hope i feel that one day again
4.05.2009
leonard cohen said it better than i could
history is a scabbie (1) point (2) for putting cash (3) to sleep
shooting up (4) the peanut (5) shit (6) of all we need to keep (7)
1) dirty/infected
2) needle
3) the brain / any painful conscious
4) injection
5) fake/artificial
6) opiates
7) possession
therefore
history is an infected needle for putting yr brain to sleep, injection of artificial things of all we need to keep !
therefore
answer:____
ex: ____our memories are infected with curr
shooting up (4) the peanut (5) shit (6) of all we need to keep (7)
1) dirty/infected
2) needle
3) the brain / any painful conscious
4) injection
5) fake/artificial
6) opiates
7) possession
therefore
history is an infected needle for putting yr brain to sleep, injection of artificial things of all we need to keep !
therefore
answer:____
ex: ____our memories are infected with curr
4.03.2009
3.28.2009
there is a method to madness (T/F?)
the truth about dropping out is i get kicked out of the business program and forced to do a different major if i don't maintain over a 2.5....why else would i not withdraw & just let easy classes turn to f's? laugh it up but this was the only way i could change my major to lit without the world bitching and moaning and fussing about my life decisions...dont care if im about to graduate...who wants to rule the world through marketing others projects? ill market myself thats about it though baby a rough time . . . i'll be back in school once this semesters over. mmmm.
fuck it u live once.... or no?
fuck it u live once.... or no?
3.21.2009
forging a dream filled with memories of you & me watching the sunrise surprise filling teary eyed lake landscape schemes & oh...do it one more time please?
brush those painted fingers through my hair letting it sink in letting it play some hypocrisy childlike sing a long please ?! yes it is true : i hope one day to view sunrises with you. my human spirit cannot take this for
if
it's
not
you
then
i
don't
want
anyone
else
to my junkie love life falling apart in bad blood : meet me halfway and lets fix ourselves.
brush those painted fingers through my hair letting it sink in letting it play some hypocrisy childlike sing a long please ?! yes it is true : i hope one day to view sunrises with you. my human spirit cannot take this for
if
it's
not
you
then
i
don't
want
anyone
else
to my junkie love life falling apart in bad blood : meet me halfway and lets fix ourselves.
3.18.2009
drifting
wrapping yr hair around my finger like silly puddy, it sticks into the wrinkles formed in my knuckles like sunflower seeds planted into muddy water, creating this world-wind map of geographical topographies Lewis and Clarke once studied while embarking into the unknown. it's uncharted territory darling. it's the lies beginning to unfold. it's the golden west dream sweet pea. it's the fraudulent dreams yr america sold.
never quite sure where any word will take me hmmmmmmm
never quite sure where any word will take me hmmmmmmm
3.14.2009
i dont think i have anything left to write in this one except. . .
its official for i have completely gone mad ! completely lost it !
i even wear a jacket nowadays...
life is strange
would you agree that times have changed
i even wear a jacket nowadays...
life is strange
would you agree that times have changed
3.09.2009
there's a sour taste brewing in my mouth, needing razor blades to peel it off. sticky & bitter, & solidifying through my crooked teeth & stuck to my gums, too. yr vampire marks have left bruises on my neck, that whiskey breath it hasn't rotted off yet.
its deafening
your defeat
its the silence
you can keep
its lingering through the sky now & i'm wondering why i even tried, i'm disgusted 100% proof of the buffalos that yr not who i thought & yr just a bore of a whore a mess like the rest you've failed all my test but i'm still not done yet
its the challenge of breaking someone that keeps me around
its teaching someone how to frown when im down
its making someone else feel just as small as they made me you see
fuck you keep your shit id rather not sell my soul for f ree
its deafening
your defeat
its the silence
you can keep
its lingering through the sky now & i'm wondering why i even tried, i'm disgusted 100% proof of the buffalos that yr not who i thought & yr just a bore of a whore a mess like the rest you've failed all my test but i'm still not done yet
its the challenge of breaking someone that keeps me around
its teaching someone how to frown when im down
its making someone else feel just as small as they made me you see
fuck you keep your shit id rather not sell my soul for f ree
my body is not excited 2 daze (today)
neither is my eye duh
my
mine
mind
but eye am
PARTII : begins.
this is my reminder .
hush, please and let me conduct.
orchestrate, if you will.
so you mocking birds :
wish me
a good night
and good luck.
(going to need it)
my
mine
but eye am
PARTII : begins.
this is my reminder .
hush, please and let me conduct.
orchestrate, if you will.
so you mocking birds :
wish me
a good night
and good luck.
(going to need it)
3.08.2009
3.03.2009
2.25.2009
q. #1: (t/f) REMINDERS ARE VITAL
CAN YOU HEAR THE WHISPER?
the crowd echoes to the back of yr mind, body sunken to the floor, one more blow to the gut and your a goner, you bloody fuck of a mess you . . .
BUT . . .
are you ready for yr demise? the great defeat? did you at least fight the good fight? is this it? are you calling it quits? have you done it all yet? did you find the kindness that saves, a kindness that cures? are you doing what you wanted? have you completed yr balance sheet?
DON'T DO IT.
WAKE UP.
yr a disgrace kid, wake up. this is your final notice. don't tear away the disconnection notice as if it's from a bill collector, as if you owe too much rent and you can't afford and you run run in those heavy souled rubbernecking shoes, like yr stuck in yr job, or yr life.
YOUR NOT.
NO
WAIT-
HOLD ON
ONE MOMENT, PLEASE.
if yr not too far gone in this great eternal battle to find some sort of freedom, some sort of place in time were we can echo for moments beyond the blink of our gods eyes, then realize - it's time to free yourself. how can we cry and whine and sigh yet not fight the good fight? why do we live day after day with this redundancy? am i only speaking for myself? has everyone else done it? help me break free from my arbitrary life.you i d e s e r v e it this.
so i thought i never was in one of those trap entanglements, letting leeches suck the blood from me, but my heels were bitten once too many times and i slipped and slide into a downward spiral
forgetting
relapsing
most of all
fucking forgetting
i am living for me.
nobody else.
it's time to stop making excuses.
it's time to get the fuck up and fight the good fight.
NO MORE SECONDS
NO MORE STOP SIGNS
IGNORE THOSE YELLOW BLINKING LIGHTS
DON'T THINK ABOUT IT.
I'M NOT TRYING.
IT'S TIME TO JUST DO.
please be kind
don't rewind
or fast forward
press play
no more pausing
for i'm living in the moments
this will be finished later, maybe
the crowd echoes to the back of yr mind, body sunken to the floor, one more blow to the gut and your a goner, you bloody fuck of a mess you . . .
BUT . . .
are you ready for yr demise? the great defeat? did you at least fight the good fight? is this it? are you calling it quits? have you done it all yet? did you find the kindness that saves, a kindness that cures? are you doing what you wanted? have you completed yr balance sheet?
DON'T DO IT.
WAKE UP.
yr a disgrace kid, wake up. this is your final notice. don't tear away the disconnection notice as if it's from a bill collector, as if you owe too much rent and you can't afford and you run run in those heavy souled rubbernecking shoes, like yr stuck in yr job, or yr life.
YOUR NOT.
NO
WAIT-
HOLD ON
ONE MOMENT, PLEASE.
if yr not too far gone in this great eternal battle to find some sort of freedom, some sort of place in time were we can echo for moments beyond the blink of our gods eyes, then realize - it's time to free yourself. how can we cry and whine and sigh yet not fight the good fight? why do we live day after day with this redundancy? am i only speaking for myself? has everyone else done it? help me break free from my arbitrary life.
so i thought i never was in one of those trap entanglements, letting leeches suck the blood from me, but my heels were bitten once too many times and i slipped and slide into a downward spiral
forgetting
relapsing
most of all
fucking forgetting
i am living for me.
nobody else.
it's time to stop making excuses.
it's time to get the fuck up and fight the good fight.
NO MORE SECONDS
NO MORE STOP SIGNS
IGNORE THOSE YELLOW BLINKING LIGHTS
DON'T THINK ABOUT IT.
I'M NOT TRYING.
IT'S TIME TO JUST DO.
please be kind
don't rewind
or fast forward
press play
no more pausing
for i'm living in the moments
this will be finished later, maybe
to my old flame with shaky palms and dry skin you wore like my alligator scaled lips perched upon yr soul i want to breathe yr soul into mine i want to feel the wind entertwine i want to walk moonlit skies with yr dogs and as we chime and you sing me blackbird in my car just one more time repeat please be kind REWIND to our memories
its the same old same old i see your face its a disgrace yr aging kid so why the wait/
its the same old same old i see your face its a disgrace yr aging kid so why the wait/
sometimes the words drift too quickly
valleys & wind please
yes, thats whats to come of me
soon enough i'm free
cauliflower land
hiccuped through the valley
sway on, green envy
you bring the bullshit
i bring random hissy fits
lets create some hits !
don't play hide and seek
she echoed to the rambler
your my muse . . . really !
little girl echoes words:
1 more story of the west
then we get some rest
breathe yr soul in me
its sour for one last lick
of yr lemon kiss
lemon breath you reek
of a bitter boy syndrome
you need sugar canes.
lemon aid takes two
parts sugar, one part lemon
care to join the mix?
i would have not went
if it wasnt for these writes
so thank you, goodnight
marriage is frugal:
we'll forget all the good parts
and become such bores
of westward daydreams,
i'm not sturdy like tree trunks
. . .my mind drifts likes leaves
green meadow hop along
perhaps rewind to sad songs
now that you are gone
my twilight reader
true, the stars move yr calm soul
i cant be yr vamp.
frigid cold wind breeze
sand in toes, you sing to me
the song of the sea
so i'll move out west
and perhaps be a poor bore
at least theres no chores !
oh, boo forever
i'm always star gazing now
lost in translation?
yes, thats whats to come of me
soon enough i'm free
cauliflower land
hiccuped through the valley
sway on, green envy
you bring the bullshit
i bring random hissy fits
lets create some hits !
don't play hide and seek
she echoed to the rambler
your my muse . . . really !
little girl echoes words:
1 more story of the west
then we get some rest
breathe yr soul in me
its sour for one last lick
of yr lemon kiss
lemon breath you reek
of a bitter boy syndrome
you need sugar canes.
lemon aid takes two
parts sugar, one part lemon
care to join the mix?
i would have not went
if it wasnt for these writes
so thank you, goodnight
marriage is frugal:
we'll forget all the good parts
and become such bores
of westward daydreams,
i'm not sturdy like tree trunks
. . .my mind drifts likes leaves
green meadow hop along
perhaps rewind to sad songs
now that you are gone
my twilight reader
true, the stars move yr calm soul
i cant be yr vamp.
frigid cold wind breeze
sand in toes, you sing to me
the song of the sea
so i'll move out west
and perhaps be a poor bore
at least theres no chores !
oh, boo forever
i'm always star gazing now
lost in translation?
2.18.2009
raining driving down pacific coast highway . . . you looked at me with those cold clear eyes and told me elle, yr the reason i'll never trust another again. & though i played it naturally cool, i couldn't help but remember what got me into this very mess . . . i remember you asked me originally to boot if all thats happened after was due to you & i've always denied it but you've got a way of corrupting you know.
as do i of course.
yr my best friend & these are the things we are going to have to suffer with now.
as do i of course.
yr my best friend & these are the things we are going to have to suffer with now.
2.14.2009
string theories break away
is it strange to admit, kindly in my defeat, it was a photograph i fell in love with ? my eyes entangled in yr rainbow infused bleach blonde static electric hair, wondering - is he the one ? eyelashes like grasshoppers legs, can i climb gently into the spaces in between, curious like a firefly - to enlighten your eyes? they die after tasting one night of life you know. just one night in between those lashes - please allow me to flicker with eight bit pixilations into yr wandering technicolor dreams? it is true, you helped me remember how to lucid dream.
& the fluidity of the dreams are hard to translate into vowels forming words . . they were vivid & harsh & i've lost many nights of sleep, crawling through our memories. perhaps mending season will soon arrive? will you bring me one more moonlight surprise? entrapped in my room now, listening to rain drop bringing birth to the dead winter, spring time is one sense away. & your tongue, though stale with mint infused tobacco, was the most wonderful swirl i've tasted in my mind. it's true you know, you helped me remember how to taste colours again.
(dont know where i was going with this one anyway)
& the fluidity of the dreams are hard to translate into vowels forming words . . they were vivid & harsh & i've lost many nights of sleep, crawling through our memories. perhaps mending season will soon arrive? will you bring me one more moonlight surprise? entrapped in my room now, listening to rain drop bringing birth to the dead winter, spring time is one sense away. & your tongue, though stale with mint infused tobacco, was the most wonderful swirl i've tasted in my mind. it's true you know, you helped me remember how to taste colours again.
(dont know where i was going with this one anyway)
2.09.2009
the strongest of the strange - bukowski
you don't see them often
for wherever the crowd is, they are not
these odd ones - not many, but from them come the few good paintings, the few good symphonies, the few good books & other works
and from the best of the strange ones : perhaps, nothing.
they are there own paintings, there own books, there own music, there own work. sometimes i think i see them - say a certain old main sitting on a certain bench in a certain way. or a quick face going the other way in a passing automobile. or there's a certain motion of a hand of a bag boy or bag girl while packing supermarket groceries.
sometimes it is even somebody you've been living with for some time - you will notice a lightning quick glance never seen from them before. sometimes you will only note there existence suddenly in vivid recall some months, some years after they are gone.
i remembered such a one, he was about 20 years old, drunk at 10 AM staring at the cracked New Orleans mirror. face dreaming against the walls of the world, where did i go?
2.05.2009
once upon a line, my haikus began to rhyme, oh what silly mind !
accidentally i save everything ?
snails : it's a slow day in the eyes of a snail
through sidewalk, wouldnt it be nice to fly, instead : stuck with slime !
(-1)
to the stump:
crawl out of yr roots / seep yr maple in my eyes / teach me green envy
to my buffalo:
where do yr souls roam / when wilder beast known as men / skinned yr hides for fun?
a tattoo: most of life flickers / unless in parenthesis / i chose permanent.
childhood. . . i say hey crayons go away:
damn the lies they told! / colour me in fairytales / ...gimme back my dreams
the skyline:
fuck you picasso / with yr blue phase you jaded / pink sunflower skies
skyline take 2:
a tramp on the run / blue reflects in her stale eyes / of whats yet to come
skyline take 3:
sea shore brings bottles / from long distance lost lovers / with paper thin notes
to a muse:
you told your disease / not faith in chaos she said / real eyez YR brilliant !
snails : it's a slow day in the eyes of a snail
through sidewalk, wouldnt it be nice to fly, instead : stuck with slime !
(-1)
to the stump:
crawl out of yr roots / seep yr maple in my eyes / teach me green envy
to my buffalo:
where do yr souls roam / when wilder beast known as men / skinned yr hides for fun?
a tattoo: most of life flickers / unless in parenthesis / i chose permanent.
childhood. . . i say hey crayons go away:
damn the lies they told! / colour me in fairytales / ...gimme back my dreams
the skyline:
fuck you picasso / with yr blue phase you jaded / pink sunflower skies
skyline take 2:
a tramp on the run / blue reflects in her stale eyes / of whats yet to come
skyline take 3:
sea shore brings bottles / from long distance lost lovers / with paper thin notes
to a muse:
you told your disease / not faith in chaos she said / real eyez YR brilliant !
2.02.2009
be kinda << rewind
moon shines
right side
through the doorways
of long legs
when the eclipse makes it way
you kissed my bluebird
and let it fly
so why am i quite surprised ?
to my star seed
the one who let me be
you learned to set me free
into my halcyon day dream
((THESE EVENTS ARE THE REMINDER I NEEDED TO BE THE KINDNESS YOU WANT TO SEE IN EVERYONE EVERYWHERE))
you said love never dies . . .
come back with yr star seed eyes?
attn:// please read me through parenthesis
i've seen the pixelation in the images created through eight bit square nations through black and white where in a standpoint a time was framed & reflected sideways these mirror images were created & , . . .
the walls said it best.
"i never finish a n y t h i"
right side
through the doorways
of long legs
when the eclipse makes it way
you kissed my bluebird
and let it fly
so why am i quite surprised ?
to my star seed
the one who let me be
you learned to set me free
into my halcyon day dream
((THESE EVENTS ARE THE REMINDER I NEEDED TO BE THE KINDNESS YOU WANT TO SEE IN EVERYONE EVERYWHERE))
you said love never dies . . .
come back with yr star seed eyes?
attn:// please read me through parenthesis
i've seen the pixelation in the images created through eight bit square nations through black and white where in a standpoint a time was framed & reflected sideways these mirror images were created & , . . .
the walls said it best.
"i never finish a n y t h i"
1.25.2009
mister mister,
here here !
here here !
acute schizoid, eh? with the delusions & paranoia too? so you've been certified to boot, oh but proceed (by all means please) to tell everyone i am certifiable. GRADE A let's say ! like i'm some sort of friendly packaged and processed meat, creme de la creme, cream of the crop, floor fifteen on the pike, let's bring her to the psych!
she's mad
you say !
and:
her minds filled with riddles which twist and turn, and her arms well . . . they are filled with the strawberry burns ! her belly aches sir doctor, she hasn't eaten in days...you turn to look at me to indicate, i'm sorry lizzy i don't believe this is just a phase !
Oh...Okay.
i'll say. and:
continue please, you kicked me to the curb you rubbersoul void of soul over dyed sooth seeker non truth believer - but hey, for only $2.08 per gallon -go on, fill yr mind with the lies ! it's true : i lied through and through & if you were clever you would have learned to read the schemes - use the filter on yr newports, just as we do for the scag we put in the spoon . . . to remember just like the first time we shot up to CONNECT NOTHING & FILTER ALL instead of believing all the shit spewed out of my mouth like stew - you think my brains rotted ... ha ha you know, i almost believed you for a second or two that this was the truth, but hey baby you chose the wayward of the words i realized i searched for all the wrong blackbirds & this phase and moment of all my life but these things will subside...oh look...here she goes again...ranting and sing songing away . . .
SO J.K.,what do you expect? jokes on me now ay !
i'll never blame you for my needle streak though you'd prefer this, like a record trying to be played but it scratched and skips from the pin, no no darling dear that will not be me, i have my own choices you see, i chose the love of the blood & the love of the belt tied slightly too tight i chose the balance i left the amphetamines in exchange to be a dope fiend, so please now hop along let me be.
but...
"IF YOU HAD FIVE MINUTES TO LIVE, WHO WOULD YOU CALL...AND WHY ARE YOU WAITING?"
you see it's true you know. at age 23 yr the first boy i ever was in love with . . the first i felt a true emotion for. the rest? all part of the games i play...& remember sex versus the fuck versus the love? we'll i've still never made love not once in my life but i do believe we were quite close the last time . so thank you for that and thank you for this but now its time for the two of us to hop along and let me be dismissed. (though i really truly never wanted the parting of the seas to be this way...hello john cusack top 5 breakups? this will be the icing on the records)
she's mad
you say !
and:
her minds filled with riddles which twist and turn, and her arms well . . . they are filled with the strawberry burns ! her belly aches sir doctor, she hasn't eaten in days...you turn to look at me to indicate, i'm sorry lizzy i don't believe this is just a phase !
Oh...Okay.
i'll say. and:
continue please, you kicked me to the curb you rubbersoul void of soul over dyed sooth seeker non truth believer - but hey, for only $2.08 per gallon -go on, fill yr mind with the lies ! it's true : i lied through and through & if you were clever you would have learned to read the schemes - use the filter on yr newports, just as we do for the scag we put in the spoon . . . to remember just like the first time we shot up to CONNECT NOTHING & FILTER ALL instead of believing all the shit spewed out of my mouth like stew - you think my brains rotted ... ha ha you know, i almost believed you for a second or two that this was the truth, but hey baby you chose the wayward of the words i realized i searched for all the wrong blackbirds & this phase and moment of all my life but these things will subside...oh look...here she goes again...ranting and sing songing away . . .
SO J.K.,what do you expect? jokes on me now ay !
i'll never blame you for my needle streak though you'd prefer this, like a record trying to be played but it scratched and skips from the pin, no no darling dear that will not be me, i have my own choices you see, i chose the love of the blood & the love of the belt tied slightly too tight i chose the balance i left the amphetamines in exchange to be a dope fiend, so please now hop along let me be.
but...
"IF YOU HAD FIVE MINUTES TO LIVE, WHO WOULD YOU CALL...AND WHY ARE YOU WAITING?"
you see it's true you know. at age 23 yr the first boy i ever was in love with . . the first i felt a true emotion for. the rest? all part of the games i play...& remember sex versus the fuck versus the love? we'll i've still never made love not once in my life but i do believe we were quite close the last time . so thank you for that and thank you for this but now its time for the two of us to hop along and let me be dismissed. (though i really truly never wanted the parting of the seas to be this way...hello john cusack top 5 breakups? this will be the icing on the records)
1.24.2009
1.21.2009
lets try not to sound like a 3 year old baby
my parents want to have me committed fucking stupid antics i am getting sober and now they think i am on things...finally im trying to be sober and this shit is pulled
they know i take vicodins all pist about that
okay...give me a pill or a perc or hand me the fucking needle then lets see your jaw drop
its all ridiculous really
im going through all these withdrawals with no medicine besides what i can find
amphetamine psychosis SUCKSi refill on friday so ill b e shitty til then
but j. has been there through it all
weve never been happier
he likes me sober
i like him sober too
its strange
hes the only one though
& i dont want to do it for him i gota do it for us or for myself or soemthing
last night i was sober
besides the percs
2 vics
klonopin
barbitute
(its like an appetizer)
i just elt good and loved and nothing was starry eyed for once
i want to improve on that
i dont want to be fucking institutionilized bc i know what im going through
my parents are fucking drama bores
they know i take vicodins all pist about that
okay...give me a pill or a perc or hand me the fucking needle then lets see your jaw drop
its all ridiculous really
im going through all these withdrawals with no medicine besides what i can find
amphetamine psychosis SUCKSi refill on friday so ill b e shitty til then
but j. has been there through it all
weve never been happier
he likes me sober
i like him sober too
its strange
hes the only one though
& i dont want to do it for him i gota do it for us or for myself or soemthing
last night i was sober
besides the percs
2 vics
klonopin
barbitute
(its like an appetizer)
i just elt good and loved and nothing was starry eyed for once
i want to improve on that
i dont want to be fucking institutionilized bc i know what im going through
my parents are fucking drama bores
1.18.2009
1.12.2009
there is genious in his splatter screen inventions, clamping the oil spilled screams of red peppers and american dreams through the use of a silver ring clamped out to a hollowed out pot belly ---
and i'm left
ever wondering if he still believes with his laughter and tell tale stories he once spoke to of me - ones where diners stapled together through now worn silverdollars, whatabout that day we drove past the raceway while new visions replaced old ways?
later
inish
maybe
and i'm left
ever wondering if he still believes with his laughter and tell tale stories he once spoke to of me - ones where diners stapled together through now worn silverdollars, whatabout that day we drove past the raceway while new visions replaced old ways?
later
inish
maybe
1.10.2009
secret passages
though yr only an illusion in my grander confusion orphaned & nurtured through sticky keys
it seems to me that these kaleidoscope eyes are tending to pry
opening wide for uncertain possibilities of 1AM suprises
& though chaotic desires you admit you admire
please realize these have nothing to do with anything between you and me
so all of the others may wonder why am i staying awake for these writings you bring ?
well sillies, he tends to bring out the madness ensued in the sea
and now these paper thin dreams are inked falsities of long distant memories & dawn breaking dreams
yet these are the ones i prefer to keep for my pseudo passions
so go on sad songs, chase the words not the birds of these daunting themes.....?
it seems to me that these kaleidoscope eyes are tending to pry
opening wide for uncertain possibilities of 1AM suprises
& though chaotic desires you admit you admire
please realize these have nothing to do with anything between you and me
so all of the others may wonder why am i staying awake for these writings you bring ?
well sillies, he tends to bring out the madness ensued in the sea
and now these paper thin dreams are inked falsities of long distant memories & dawn breaking dreams
yet these are the ones i prefer to keep for my pseudo passions
so go on sad songs, chase the words not the birds of these daunting themes.....?
1.09.2009
1.04.2009
he brought me truth justified:
he served his spoken words in a bowl
filled with a-l-p-h-a-b-e-t shapes
that created sounds through vowels
reminding me of new breathing techniques
and the words in this sea...please see:
they overflowed from a pastey red & white
camp-bells rang in my ears bringing in sounds new of the year
but the rust etched in our arms remained && so
in return (to sender)
betrayal was written & not through the vowels learned
or from the orange candy supr-eyes(d) brown eyes
but instead through the chaos you thought i came to mend
but my season of stitches still cannot comprehend
the life lines youve opened, feeding passion to these veins
and now you have said that i've taught you fear and shown you how to betray
but
to
my
lover
let
me
state
this:
i told you my love occurs in brief moments; it will bring you hope which in turn, forms great disappointments. ill always be married to these books i read & in turn you must play the mistress, you see. you were informed of this from day one so when you feel i'm playing games now realize they already begun.
(you will thank me one day. perhaps?)
filled with a-l-p-h-a-b-e-t shapes
that created sounds through vowels
reminding me of new breathing techniques
and the words in this sea...please see:
they overflowed from a pastey red & white
camp-bells rang in my ears bringing in sounds new of the year
but the rust etched in our arms remained && so
in return (to sender)
betrayal was written & not through the vowels learned
or from the orange candy supr-eyes(d) brown eyes
but instead through the chaos you thought i came to mend
but my season of stitches still cannot comprehend
the life lines youve opened, feeding passion to these veins
and now you have said that i've taught you fear and shown you how to betray
but
to
my
lover
let
me
state
this:
i told you my love occurs in brief moments; it will bring you hope which in turn, forms great disappointments. ill always be married to these books i read & in turn you must play the mistress, you see. you were informed of this from day one so when you feel i'm playing games now realize they already begun.
(you will thank me one day. perhaps?)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)