i hate you

its not over.

and im ok, i like the idea of people coming to me.

cant help it

freaky sweat bed

let me out. let me out. let me out. let me out. let me out. let me out. let me out. let me out. let me out let me. out.


let me out so i can get back in.

i dont even feel like it anymore

im off roadin', rut stuck and i got a bowl of green grapes (PLU# 4022).
i dont have a job, and no $$ in the bank. somehow all i want to do is see all of the vegetable numbers I can remember. . .
red peppers - 4088
green peppers - 4065
red onions - 4082
sweet onions (this is actually the number i would use for any onion that wasnt red) - 4166
red grapes - 4020
bananas - 4011
potatoes(loose) - 4027 ... or maybe thats sweet potato...
broccoli tops? - 4549
broccoli..everything - 4060
cantaloupe - 4050
liz lemons - 4053
limes - 4048
garlic - 4608
cucumber - 4062
green beans - 4066
cluster (i.e. every) tomato - 4664

- happy and fulfilled, right?

oh thats right, i forgot that it is a saturday night, and that normal people are social, generally. ive spent my day reading and avoiding people. i slept a lot too, and didn't get any work done.
best day ive had in a really long time.


im getting younger, i can feel it. its good though, i didnt know how to be my own age. hey man, ive never been this old before. this is brand new to me. im still working out some kinks.

bagels

we were asked earlier if the wind chill mattered.
of course we said "no" because that was the polite thing to do.
it was polite because apparently screaming isn't, and the way i look at you isn't.
i never really knew what it was like to be not told what to do, i dont work well under pressure. and i will hurt you, if you ask me to. im good at that sort of thing, the pretending.
the eating chinese food takeout with stoned christians and blacking out buzzards.
i caught the plague myself in the steamy shower scene that we never acted out.
and never always sounded like a harsh word, but i use it as deployment.
i use people like napkins and horrid dance moves. im not that twig or that rock. ive beaten it all before, and now im just trying to find my way back out.
you don't believe me.
but im magic, in the sense that my glitter is glued to the paper.
the rainbows drawn with crayola and dust.
my childhood eaten in a casserole.
baby girl, turn me on with you electric feel.

i think youre beautiful

i think that you are beautiful. i think that even with the air this bitter, i can snuggle away until crunchy snow is gone.

aging back

My back is an old woman.
My lungs are an old woman.
Today my friend turned to an old woman.
I feel stupid.
I wonder if I'll get it done, or just be done.

night shaws

I have a really hard time talking these days. Maybe its because I spend so much time in the vacation resort (not) that is my head, or maybe its just because as I get older I get more and more socially insane. Maybe the two are not mutually exclusive.

I bought a bag full of snacks after work tonight. I don't know why, I didn't really want anything that I got...and it was a waste of money. This is my life. I'm finding it really hard to care about anything at all these days. Really, difficult. I have no passion left, just dull aches and pains. So, what do I do in order to feel again? IF ONLY IT WERE THAT SIMPLE. or is it?

hmm

interesting mood shift..
i guess talking makes a difference. who da thunk.
its snowy and beautiful out. i only work 5 hours today.
plenty of time for nothing. ive got back aches, and neck pains. ive been wrestling to get out of bed. but im turning it around (like i say everyday)
har
har
har.
stick bugs. mutiny. mutant.
id like to meet a mutant.
i probably am a mutant.

events

currently im in limbo. i have no idea where i am, or where i'm going. im sitting here watching alias with my mom, and gorging on cheez-its. cheesy zits. might as well be. i didnt get into college. sydney bristow just kicked someones ass. im lonely, and i try not to say it out loud (because of how it sounds???) im insecure. extremely. its funny, almost. or it would be if it weren't me. im scared to be around people, because i dont care about anything, and its easier to not care when im alone.

maybe ill just build myself a cage. trap myself there so that i can blame the bars for holding me back. blame the locks and lions that bind me like cement. my cat is beautiful. im not a dog person. im freezing. i took a steaming bath today and read harry potter (this was after i was rejected from kawledge) and i thought 'why cant my life be like harrys?
'. hes a baby. he has the emotional capacity of a five year old. he never really has to do anything for himself.

now take frodo...he has a struggle. he has a fight. (this christmas i got stoned and watched all three lord of the rings. i had a particular connection with gollum. should this worry me?) frodo must truly face evil, and it is masked as happiness. who wouldn't have a hard time with that? i can't say that i have the will power or proper state of mind to make the "right" choice. im having a hard time deciding whats real and whats a lie.

i dont know who i am, but im starting to. i think? i hope so. i know that im more open to it at least. thats a start. and i have the rest of my life to figure that out, right? whats with the hurry. it seems that i cant be young and i cant be old. im not ready but im too ready. and yet when i found out i wasnt accepted i ran to my room to cry and hold my kitten. thats how old i am. thats how why-ze.

i dont know where to go from here. hopefully it will be up. up. i want to meet someone i can be real with. someone who can show me what real means. im not sure if thats realistic or not. but sydney bristow just escaped the bad guys. the pilots over. and ill watch more, just you wait and see.


i used to be in love with her, you know. this was right around the time of my freshman year idiocy. what a joke. mmmm. pie.

TODAY

i fucked the dog.
its over and theres nothing i can do.

brain tumor?

i hope that the blinding pain behind my right eye isn't fatal.
w

sunday

lets just get drunk and fool around with everyone we don't know.
lets cry for no reason and smack talk everyone who meant anything to us.
im ready.

good morning

kill xx plastics (11:13:15 AM): hey thereeeee
kill xx plastics (11:13:24 AM): i'm listening to P.H.
samanthaschlein (11:13:35 AM): whats ph?
samanthaschlein (11:13:39 AM): HI!!!
kill xx plastics (11:13:44 AM): PARIS HILTON
samanthaschlein (11:13:59 AM): HOW COULD I NOT HAVE KNOWN?
kill xx plastics (11:14:05 AM): I DON'T KNOW!
kill xx plastics (11:14:23 AM): so when we hang out
kill xx plastics (11:14:32 AM): we're going to go to the middlebury bagel shop
kill xx plastics (11:14:40 AM): and goooo get a smoothie at the coop
kill xx plastics (11:14:42 AM): i've..decided

green vid

green

our sex was dull
and with it it brought every bit of dust and dilly weed until our faces were numb
until the red light was gone.
in it i saw myself, but heckled and oozing, the slow pulsing wasn't like what i knew.
it was mischievous and the cold new
new
new
new
it was old
like a black man, who i never know
it was like a spoiled child
it was a monkey in paris
and i caught the last of its footage.

im all about the gratitude.
I'm all about the misshapen
its different for us, because we actually love
and its different because there is nothing but this longing
its different because the one
one
one
one
one
is always lost

we're always splendid
thats how we'll stay, we will dance to the northern.
we will cast the blue on the windows
until they cheat us out of the delicate that we know
and i am so glad that we have forsaken


its because there is a new "we" and i call it "myself"
i call it braver
and more like real.
there is nothing but the truth this time
something that the last one would have forgotten.

im breaking every bond that the other would have bled.
its time that we know whats red and whats blood cell.
this time we call the nameless.
we, myself, i, believe it.
there is nothing but us
and until we run waterless its the desert that takes us
and i will know it
love it
feel it
we are dancing because it means the world.


its every dare, its every spirit.
its every half drunk bottle of red and white that we every knew
its the total of two years from now and the morning after
its the dryness of every fucking morning since then.
and i am begging on two knees to let me in. to let the dawn break.
im sick of waiting. let me in mama.
my hope is a dull twitch and i only know you through your judgment.


sometimes i wonder "will you miss me?" and then i remember. i dont care.
you were the lost device. the lost divine.
and now my remote is universal. and my martini is black from lung cancer and gin.
my gin.
my gin.
for real though, its not the end. its the begining and im sorry you can't know me know.
i myself think that im great. I think that without the dark the dawn can't CUM.


the world is pink in this misty morning, this abandoned chic.
i circled the tip of montreal until the sun beat me pink. the color of women.
under the impression that we are all blue.
the mans world.
the universal remote.
call me. versatile
the russian spy.
the only one who sneaked a peak at the future.
he was just as damaged as my best friend.
in ruby glows.
and how long was i out of the country?
how long did my fire flies buzz?
right up until the moment that you smashed their guts along the side of your arm.
"look it glows"
and now we are dining on fish food and vibes.


the kind that tell the worried "itll all be ok"
the kind that eats us whole like maggots and hair.
and meg ryan and blonde hair.
i wonder if she ever knew, like her daughter what it was like to be sunk.
the paint chips on the wall over shadow the yellow of your grin.
I'm happy about it. really, because that means that our sallow is genuine.


the other day i spent the 12.4 hours dancing to music i had forgotten.
its a ritual, between the likely and the insane. feeding their fees to the rich.
to mccully culkin. he was home alone on the holidays. feel for him like i do.
he was shit faced at my new years party. i saved him a drink.



i spent my night feeding off of yellow butts and trying to make you care.
its a different you, so stop trying to figure me out.
there is nothing in that ocean blue that seizes me to you.
its only my epilepsy. and i prescribed the proper antidote.


i use spell check like there is no tomorrow. thats because i can't spell the difference betwean you and mea.
the only thing that sets us apart is you desire to know something real.
oh wait, that was my brain. tick. tick. ticking like there was something else.
like i was the one who waited.
instead i got a "goddess" who waits tables
as at night because there is nothing like the present.


i remember when the slow lights fell for the first time.
when my orgasm wasn't what it had always been.
and i blamed you. for three decades our hearts were bleak, and they toched each other black.
like a kid with dirty hands. and now im positive that artifical life is the only way.

my wool socks glow like mad in the shower. and the steam is starting to filter through to the sun. whats the news? shes asked but i wont answer, because these were the things i left behind.

my toes are numb. this is the real deal, the only real.
reel.
bug.
flesh.
and i can't let go.
teach me how, mama.
teach me to believe.
its not like the only thing i know is doom.
its the opposite.
its because i know the rest of the world that i can notice the shame
fear
and misplaced emotions.

i remember the other moment. i remember every bitchen dream..
how the swallows devoured me until all was left was bones and grease..
i (for the first time) ate the pigeons that lurked in your spinster grave.
it was black, like the dreams, and we called the police to see if the robbings had solved themselves. it was different. because we didn't know.

it was different this time, because no matter what we tried the fucking dark would push in. it was different because this time the wine in the gutter wasn't meant for me.
but i had forgotten that by now.
i swear. sweat.


II.


in the dust we scribbled our names.
i only did it to forgettttt. to let be what was almost the end.
to let sing what was the beginning and the slow decay.
my emptiness is less than that of the bear, the solitude.
my spirit. my ugly yellow. my teeth. blue.
its laughable, i could swear. its breakable.
i could dance.

nothing

This one is directed to you-- I’ve told them all about the games, the judgmental joys. I always lost at sports, and even now when I know who the ending is talking to, I can’t let go of who you made me. My elbows are cold and my palms are sweaty, I’ve got less to go on now that I did twelve years ago
Pressed against the foundation of our daughter’s bedroom, spooning in her absence I caught the last train to Manistee, where they vacationed on their birthdays. Feeding dolphins toxic reform.
I’m whipping the back of my slaves, but only with good intentions . I’ve never been bought or paid for, something that I’ve always been remorseful of.
There are flakes of snow that drip like spit from the windows. Glass void of ideas or thought.
The inches of debris have lasted the longest, but not out of happiness. Out of boredom perhaps, maybe it was because when they touched, they didn’t mean it (I know I didn’t).

ben affleck

i want to be a cowgrrl.
i want to saddle up and ride into the sunset.
ill tip my hat to the ladies when i ride through town.
ill drink you under the table, whiskeys like air.



on a separate note, im watching the women.
not women in general, the film.
movie...not a film.
filmy filmy filmy filmy.
sea foam.
sea lion.

its too darn hot

The rest of my evening will be spent lounging in my bed, listening to ella fitzgerald, and reading harry potter 4. I can't help but think that I am a fraud. every window seems to be slamming in my face.


i conned myself into feeling again, when i so wisely promised i would never open again. the only slits between storm clouds seem to be the stars and moon. there was sun again today, and i did not take that lightly, although i didn't get to spend as much time as i may have liked outside. i would not say that the day was a waste. a good learning opportunity if nothing else.



im tired of pretending to be someone im not. it just doesn't seem like i can ever get it right, tight, and im jealous in spite. of... of everything. there are very few real things left.
talk to ella.