the line in the book was "in that moment i swear we were infinite"
the best line trivialized, its not the reader's secret anymore
Tuesday, July 3, 2012
perks
the line in the book was "in that moment i swear we were infinite"
the best line trivialized, its not the reader's secret anymore
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
I'm such a fucking cynic.
The stories we romanticize as children, the bigger than life, happier-than-they-really-were memories that we have, I look back on with a sense of realism that almost ruins it. Because I have my own, that even I am unable to break down into anything other than blissful moments.
But when I hear those of others, the unimaginative me comes out, judging and ridiculing in my brain until the wine hits it enough to let me speak those unmentionable thoughts outloud, and I wish I fucking wouldn't! Why can't I let him have his moments of bliss, his untouched memories crafted by a child who doesn't know any better. I have to taint it with nasty realism. Rational thought. Why do we adults let this permeate our brains?
The stories we romanticize as children, the bigger than life, happier-than-they-really-were memories that we have, I look back on with a sense of realism that almost ruins it. Because I have my own, that even I am unable to break down into anything other than blissful moments.
But when I hear those of others, the unimaginative me comes out, judging and ridiculing in my brain until the wine hits it enough to let me speak those unmentionable thoughts outloud, and I wish I fucking wouldn't! Why can't I let him have his moments of bliss, his untouched memories crafted by a child who doesn't know any better. I have to taint it with nasty realism. Rational thought. Why do we adults let this permeate our brains?
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
growing pains
i'm sure its a common thing, but myself being so far removed from any memory of a relationship or anything like it, I am trying to keep perspective as it stretches and molds itself into some new being. The relationship that is. I'm speaking about my new one. The tiny milestones you pass; jumping over hurdles of copying keys and driving each others cars, and miniature fights.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
the other half
- the realization that no one will ever truly be there for you
- when you get what you want, there's a chance you won't want it anymore
- distance makes the heart grow more desperate and delusional
- we can leave at any time. like disappear. Just slip out the back, Jack!
50 Ways to Leave Your Lover - Paul Simon
- when you get what you want, there's a chance you won't want it anymore
- distance makes the heart grow more desperate and delusional
- we can leave at any time. like disappear. Just slip out the back, Jack!
50 Ways to Leave Your Lover - Paul Simon
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Monday, August 8, 2011
just before 2, the night about to come to a close as far as the public is concerned.
wrap your arms around him, close as can be, elbows reaching his neck.
he is yours and you are his and everyone sees it.
dancing as one human, duo in nature but on the exact same page.
you are drunk and happy and you are one fucking moment together spinning away.
remember that feeling
wrap your arms around him, close as can be, elbows reaching his neck.
he is yours and you are his and everyone sees it.
dancing as one human, duo in nature but on the exact same page.
you are drunk and happy and you are one fucking moment together spinning away.
remember that feeling
Saturday, August 6, 2011
surround me with strangers
surround me with strangers
so that i may remain detached from the people that bring me smiles and the same ones that force me into solitude and silent tears.
surround me with strangers
so that i may feel light. rip every last one of my fingers from his arm so that i can float up above it all, blissfully solo, yearning but in control again.
surround me with strangers sot hat i may mimic their required amount of energy, spouting back thier chipper pitch and friendly gesture.
Let me forget what sits deep in my gut for just a moment as I sit amongst the strangers in complete anonymity, gving myself silently to their causes in return.
Oh that Greg! Always in the best mood, and Tim with the baby face - hope his school is going well! Don't forget sassy Sally and her gold hoop earrings - always good for a laugh!
And let me never learn their true names, for everyone gets to keep their secrets and I get to pretend they are as simple as they appear in their work uniforms, one dimensional and uncomplicated all the while I becoming one of them, checking my troubles on the doormat of the coffee shop.
I'll eventually have to leave them when my mug runs dry or I decide its time to retire to sleep. I'll leave them and pick back up my troubles as I go, attempting to drown them out with music on the drive home. But they'll make themselves known again, always visible from the corner of my eye like a rogue wisp of my hair that wonders into the peripheral. I'll eventually allow it to full view, and while it encompasses my day I'll think fondly of the strangers from the night before.
so that i may remain detached from the people that bring me smiles and the same ones that force me into solitude and silent tears.
surround me with strangers
so that i may feel light. rip every last one of my fingers from his arm so that i can float up above it all, blissfully solo, yearning but in control again.
surround me with strangers sot hat i may mimic their required amount of energy, spouting back thier chipper pitch and friendly gesture.
Let me forget what sits deep in my gut for just a moment as I sit amongst the strangers in complete anonymity, gving myself silently to their causes in return.
Oh that Greg! Always in the best mood, and Tim with the baby face - hope his school is going well! Don't forget sassy Sally and her gold hoop earrings - always good for a laugh!
And let me never learn their true names, for everyone gets to keep their secrets and I get to pretend they are as simple as they appear in their work uniforms, one dimensional and uncomplicated all the while I becoming one of them, checking my troubles on the doormat of the coffee shop.
I'll eventually have to leave them when my mug runs dry or I decide its time to retire to sleep. I'll leave them and pick back up my troubles as I go, attempting to drown them out with music on the drive home. But they'll make themselves known again, always visible from the corner of my eye like a rogue wisp of my hair that wonders into the peripheral. I'll eventually allow it to full view, and while it encompasses my day I'll think fondly of the strangers from the night before.
Monday, July 11, 2011
where i am at
I am tired.
I just took a trip with myself and honestly I'm kind of sick of me.
I had an amazing time but I'm preoccupied with thoughts of him.
I want to be home in my bed.
I have witnessed the tears of several people today.
I wish I could let some out of my own.
I have been in two time zones in the past two days and am about to visit another one.
Breathe, breathe, it's going to be okay.
Maybe, or it will just continue to suck.
I just took a trip with myself and honestly I'm kind of sick of me.
I had an amazing time but I'm preoccupied with thoughts of him.
I want to be home in my bed.
I have witnessed the tears of several people today.
I wish I could let some out of my own.
I have been in two time zones in the past two days and am about to visit another one.
Breathe, breathe, it's going to be okay.
Maybe, or it will just continue to suck.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Friday, June 24, 2011
Thursday, June 23, 2011
the lost month
I don't know the difference with this one. He's my friend but I can't keep my hands to myself when I'm with him. He's my friend but he's tasted my lips and touched almost every part of me. He's my friend and I know his smell. He's my friend who I think about more than some.
Im confusing his sweet sweet attention with something else, some kind of attraction, and its consuming my nights and ruining my body. Because that's something I would do, fall for an unavailable mess.
But oh how nice it is to touch.
(up on the counter, under the lunch table, behind the bar)
(waking up side by side, his hand on my ass, wine spilled around us)
what a wonderful mess we've made of June.
Im confusing his sweet sweet attention with something else, some kind of attraction, and its consuming my nights and ruining my body. Because that's something I would do, fall for an unavailable mess.
But oh how nice it is to touch.
(up on the counter, under the lunch table, behind the bar)
(waking up side by side, his hand on my ass, wine spilled around us)
what a wonderful mess we've made of June.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
cryinginyourcar
I'm really unhappy about how I've chosen to handle everything in the past few days. As if I needed to wonder when or where the emo would hit or if it even would. Because of course, right then and there it comes like a fucking heavy flow, a period-in-theory rife with teary eyes and tummy trembling anxiety instead of blood.
I'm upset and I know why but it's like I'm in this hole and I can't see the light. My brain is telling me fuck them! Keep damaging your relationships! They don't matter! But what the fuck, why can't I see how fucked up that is. I think I'm alone now...
I'm upset and I know why but it's like I'm in this hole and I can't see the light. My brain is telling me fuck them! Keep damaging your relationships! They don't matter! But what the fuck, why can't I see how fucked up that is. I think I'm alone now...
thinkingandactingandsuckingthelifeoutofitall
I felt rejected.
Start with admitting that statement, and the rest flows smoothly with a little bit of coercing. After massaging into that flaky scalp of resentment and disappointment, qualities usually filed under "weak" and "not me", I opened up a world of what is going on in my brain from surface to the deepest of consciousness.
For one, I despise relying on other people for events and concerts and parties that I want to go to. And while I'm lucky to connect with an amazing group of talented and involved friends, it boils down to my inability to create those opportunities for myself. This realization sucks but feels really freeing at the same time, as now I can cultivate my own interests to lead to experience the stimulation and creative energy I seek. This town's guts are full of shit and full of possibilities, and I can't imagine spending another year feeling like I haven't gotten down and dirty within both piles. How to do this without "selling my soul" will be the next challenge, as I also slightly hate myself for even wanting to be invited to vapid soulless parties full of hangers on.
I suppose its the desire to be desired that peaks my curious little brain. Having enough to offer is not what scares me. What scares me is not being able to box it up into a tidy nutrition label. Am I a writer/designer/blogger? Am I a lowly web servant working for a startup internet company? Do I curate a magazine that I've yet to launch? Selling your goods when you don't know what product you are is what fucking scares me. The idea of me me me and wanting to go to a lykke li afterparty and the chateau marmont is what scares me.
Because we are all so fucking selfish. But it's a beautiful thing sometimes because our own selfish desires push us to improve, and to flex those little brain muscles which in turn we use to give. I got caught up in my own selfish shit pile and my dear friend was able to listen let me rant and get me out. I feel like I should be paying her sometimes because that 30 minute phone conversation took me down a different cosmic tubule. I jumped in and washed off my makeup and my caked on rage and sat down to let it all out.
I'll get there soon enough.
Start with admitting that statement, and the rest flows smoothly with a little bit of coercing. After massaging into that flaky scalp of resentment and disappointment, qualities usually filed under "weak" and "not me", I opened up a world of what is going on in my brain from surface to the deepest of consciousness.
For one, I despise relying on other people for events and concerts and parties that I want to go to. And while I'm lucky to connect with an amazing group of talented and involved friends, it boils down to my inability to create those opportunities for myself. This realization sucks but feels really freeing at the same time, as now I can cultivate my own interests to lead to experience the stimulation and creative energy I seek. This town's guts are full of shit and full of possibilities, and I can't imagine spending another year feeling like I haven't gotten down and dirty within both piles. How to do this without "selling my soul" will be the next challenge, as I also slightly hate myself for even wanting to be invited to vapid soulless parties full of hangers on.
I suppose its the desire to be desired that peaks my curious little brain. Having enough to offer is not what scares me. What scares me is not being able to box it up into a tidy nutrition label. Am I a writer/designer/blogger? Am I a lowly web servant working for a startup internet company? Do I curate a magazine that I've yet to launch? Selling your goods when you don't know what product you are is what fucking scares me. The idea of me me me and wanting to go to a lykke li afterparty and the chateau marmont is what scares me.
Because we are all so fucking selfish. But it's a beautiful thing sometimes because our own selfish desires push us to improve, and to flex those little brain muscles which in turn we use to give. I got caught up in my own selfish shit pile and my dear friend was able to listen let me rant and get me out. I feel like I should be paying her sometimes because that 30 minute phone conversation took me down a different cosmic tubule. I jumped in and washed off my makeup and my caked on rage and sat down to let it all out.
I'll get there soon enough.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Monday, May 23, 2011
My apartment seems to be turning against me. My neighbors suck, use my washer/dryer daily, tracking in leaves and dirt SOMEHOW, while leaving their disgusting hideous clothes laying around. Also I feel haunted by some sort of a 3D ghost, that circles over my bed at night. And finally, I've dropped and damaged TWO iphones in the past 24 hours in the same spot, as if that same ghost pushed the devices out of my hand. Regardless of if its my own idiot fault, I feel stifled here! Whenever the inspiration strikes, I am blocked in the physical realm.
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