stand bye me

i have forgotten the norm.
i am a control freak.
and the shadow came to the ehnd when the wall shot us down.
it is time to stop trying. it is time to start the end.

love me pure. love me pure despite my idiotic behavior. i know i have it, in full display.

forgett came..

gia

continuously i feel slighted by my mother. in this fifteen minute span of waking she has already insulted me before the family.
the sad thing is, she wants it to matter more to me than it does. she just yells hurls temper tantrums like she is a five year old. i am so angry to day.

Sweetly, sweetly the slight end was up.

This is not the end, but rather the beginning. My written word knows nothing, and too much. Simultaneously.
In this story, the heroine finds her temper unbound, and through this, she knows what must be.
How to pack the bag, how to hold the head, to turn the key.
It is all relevant.
It is the finding, of adventure, the one that she doesn't really want, but needs..
It is this, that she must believe to be relevant, because..why should any of it matter
if it is happening to her.


In my experiences, it is the weak who find themselves, and the strong who always knew.
In my experience there is never a lie, but a spin of the truth, and this makes all the difference.
In my experience, when the wind blows just right, so that maybe you receive another lands sand, maybe this is the clue.
The cue. And you must begin.

tricks

its a tired day, and its only going to get faster.
I don't feel as though I have caught my breath yet.

learning the blues

Today is dark. The clouds are heavy and so are my eyes. Puffy from shifting in my sleep and dreaming about rain.

I have an affinity to the south, I want those hot winds that knock you out, and hold you up. I want to stick my toes in the Mississippi (em-eye-ess-ess-eye-ess-ess-eye-pee-pee-eye)river, and run through fields full of..what do they grow down there.. tobacco? Sure, that works.

To be honest, I have never been to the deep south, or any kind of south. Florida being the closest. I don't really count that though, maybe I should. I don't know much, but I like to dream about it. I like to pretend I know everything about everything. Being indignant and stubborn makes people think that you know what you're talking about. My lungs hurt, I need to stop smoking. I don't really want to though.

As sick as it is, I like depending on something so useless. Sucking at the tips of something deadly, inhaling tiny puffs, and then I reek of something forbidden. Only, its not so forbidden anymore, I think I'm losing interest. I get bored easily. And I change my mind more often than I change my underwear.

I haven't written a poem in a month. I haven't written a poem that I cared about in a year. I'm being dramatic, and deadpan. That is my shield, everything is huge and I don't give a shit about it. Because I tend to get upset about small things. or misunderstandings. And I'm too impatient to wait for an answer, so I make up my own.

I'm starving, and I want to learn about everything that ever happened. And why things are still happening, and when they will stop. I have goosebumps and I am going to go out into the storm soon. Maybe. Probably not, to be honest.

Today I am going to read and listen to Benny Goodman. Its Sunday, and I have nothing that needs to be done. Thats actually far from true. Be careful about things that I tell you, there is a 75% chance that I am lying.

you are the cosmic american, gal

its a beautiful day. one of the nicest i have seen in a long time. and yet i cant get myself out into it, im stuck here, wedged like a dutch boy in a dam. its become a daily thing, the "ok. youre done" mantra. its like the difference between "you can do this" and "i can do this." i discovered that one while i was driving.

i love to drive, it probably comes from something forgotten. its probably the seeds of something that never got to grow. the soil was too thick perhaps. maybe it smothered them. when i drive, it is the only time i feel like i am in control of anything. even if i fuck it up, even if i kill us all. its just me, and its just the road. ive started to develop massive control issues. i get tense if anyone so much as suggests something else. maybe i should work on my breathing.

ive been thinking a lot about college, as much as i can without actually acknowledging it. because then its real, and then i have to deal with it. today i did nothing. i took my trash out, actually. a rather large step. because i have been staring at the ever growing pile of junk next to my door for over a month now. todays the day. i dont know why it took me so long, it really was that easy.

i played ogre with my two little cousins. kids have gotten more violent since my time. threatening to kill and shoot, it makes me nervous. and it also makes me laugh. it sjust one of those things. like how i can't do anything perfectly, how that makes me upset. or how if i WERE to do something perfectly i would probably feel even worse. there is nothing to improve upon if it comes out perfect the first time. i think my biggest fear is knowing that my best is behind me.

the other day i was talking with my friend, and we were drunk, because we always are, and it was one of those high-speed-frantically-deep talks, where everything you say is exactly how it is. i told her then that my biggest fear was what i would feel the second before death. but now, im not so sure. i have always been afraid of death, a kind of paralyzing fear, that would never let me think of it or speak of it, because then it would make it true. i am absurdly lucky in the fact that I have so far never had anyone very close to me die. i couldn't imagine it. i know that someday i will have to experience that, but thats also one of those things that im just not ready to accept. anyway, the point for this second is, that im not afraid of death right now. im more afraid that when death comes, i wont be ready.

its beautiful out, and my family is fighting, and im more than a little bit lonely, but i dont actually want to be near anyone. its too much work. i guess im just constantly searching for that thing, those seeds that were smothered. is it the kind of thing that can be replanted? because i know that at some point i was there, i was at the sunny patch and i did something right. i guess time will tell if ive put myself into an unsolvable situation.

Wallow

What is the point of wallowing?
To me, wallowing seems to be the thing you do when its dark and the mirror doesn't seem to be working.
its that stupid brown piece of brick that just doesn't stand in with the rest of em.

I have a beautifully large and painful pimple on my right cheek. it actually isn't quite acne yet...but some sort of red pulsing pain in the ass. cheek. har.
you see, this is vitally important because beauty is pain, and without pain, you 'aint got shit going for you.

today i stayed in bed, mostly. and i thought, as i always do, about how i am and all of that b.s. how when i was young i would crush on just about any chick that came my way via the t.v.

this weeks mad crush is minnie driver. yeah, she has great lips.
let me tell you something about minnie. i used to hate her. back when i was young. a wee tot of 13 years. my aunt loved her. so i thought she was too old. and then my mother called this teacher in my school minnie driver. her name was minnie, so it wasn't completely off base. she dated the man that my aunt decided wasn't good enough for her. she babysat me once or twice. I think that she had a mustache.i KNOW she did. back to the driver...my god mother, who i lost touch with, decided to show me this movie...return to me. it starred the driver and david dooo something (he was in the x-files) i loved it. and now that i have decided to give my heart to an older, famous mother I'm ready to see it again.

the point is, that i always "decide" to hate things because of what my mother tells me. or anyone in that is significantly older than me, unless i find them intolerably attractive. like minnie. driver that is.

i wallow a lot. despite my distaste for it. its one of those hypocritical things that i am so well known for. i could be queen for hypocratica. really, i would be an excellent ruler. and i hate the decemberists. but only because novermeber happened. if you ask those close to me, over the summer of 2007 they were a very dear part of my life. or really, even before that. back in that great year of ninth grade, i clung to them like safety raft. that was back when heavy eye shadow was a staple in my life. that and dismissing those who helped me find who i am.
now she has a husband and kid.
what a life, right?
i think im one drink short. im one bed too small, or one charity too little.


thats alright. im kind of self righteous theses days. even thought i have gotten fat and anti-social. at least i can drive.