I guess Americans get to start over twice...happy new year.
Saturday, February 01, 2003
Thursday, January 30, 2003
Roots, sucking,
Life sustaining...
I have risen, it's hard to see
Sponge like,
more then pores,
roots sucking,
Anything more?
Throw...shove...Push,
everything at me.
Laughing, mouth wide,
eyes have always sparkled,
roots sucking.
I've been ready.
years stacking,
time passing.
I've been ready.
Amiration...anticipation,
forgetting to take care of many...
I am a work in progress,
roots sucking, life sustaing...
Life sustaining...
I have risen, it's hard to see
Sponge like,
more then pores,
roots sucking,
Anything more?
Throw...shove...Push,
everything at me.
Laughing, mouth wide,
eyes have always sparkled,
roots sucking.
I've been ready.
years stacking,
time passing.
I've been ready.
Amiration...anticipation,
forgetting to take care of many...
I am a work in progress,
roots sucking, life sustaing...
Wednesday, January 29, 2003
Rough around the edges.
Not quite together.
Breathless.
Speaking of the unknown as if it will be easy.
I fall a little more each time I fail.
I look foward to the nothing moments, because darkness shields pain.
Don't look at what I haven't become.
I can tell I have a lot of growing up to do.
I've already come to far not to be moved.
Keep mistakes and never learn.
Wipe the salt water.
Ready to lay down under the sun, hand held up, see through fingers.
Squint and laugh...It may always be the same.
Not quite together.
Breathless.
Speaking of the unknown as if it will be easy.
I fall a little more each time I fail.
I look foward to the nothing moments, because darkness shields pain.
Don't look at what I haven't become.
I can tell I have a lot of growing up to do.
I've already come to far not to be moved.
Keep mistakes and never learn.
Wipe the salt water.
Ready to lay down under the sun, hand held up, see through fingers.
Squint and laugh...It may always be the same.
Tuesday, January 28, 2003
There are these moments I have that remind me of how alone I am. They are kind of like an epiphany only they hurt, and that’s when it starts. Slam you down in the mud, rough and unforgiving sadness.
It could have been any other night…bird.
Remembering that I have a hole somewhere in my middle, insides dropping out, that’s the hardest thing about dandelions and never knowing center.
The light can dim to a glow…hard to see, hard to even notice those people to my right.
Sleeping alone is like forgetting the sun sets as other things slow down. It’s like a wish…a constant, steady reminder of empty cups and empty hands. I have slept alone since the day I squinted at the bright lights in the hospital.
My spirit has never known unshaven legs and face stubble…it is half there. My spirit longs to touch “man heart” and hair that has never been longer then mine.
Oh woes to the never calm ocean that mimics my heart and teases me because it is content.
Sand between my toes has always felt better then sitting and waiting…
It could have been any other night…bird.
Remembering that I have a hole somewhere in my middle, insides dropping out, that’s the hardest thing about dandelions and never knowing center.
The light can dim to a glow…hard to see, hard to even notice those people to my right.
Sleeping alone is like forgetting the sun sets as other things slow down. It’s like a wish…a constant, steady reminder of empty cups and empty hands. I have slept alone since the day I squinted at the bright lights in the hospital.
My spirit has never known unshaven legs and face stubble…it is half there. My spirit longs to touch “man heart” and hair that has never been longer then mine.
Oh woes to the never calm ocean that mimics my heart and teases me because it is content.
Sand between my toes has always felt better then sitting and waiting…
His voice falls to high and scratches the wrong side of my brain, and they all laugh as he raises his arms talking about a new world order.
She is so sentimental and I want to see through her skin, it's almost translucent, like fat free milk in a clear glass.
I can't take anymore of your agreement, never nod your head in the affirmative again, not unless you've really thought it through.
I like how we are exactly the same, and he wants love and I would give it...this world is truley mysterious.
Thank you for appreciating me...you have never done that before.
I think he's holding on because he knows my book is the last thing connecting him to me...he had his chance...I'm taking it far away.
There is this endless, relentless river. The answers are bobbing there, but the river runs too fast to truely grasp the truth.
Never talk to me of uh oh again...my dad is struggling to relate.
She is so sentimental and I want to see through her skin, it's almost translucent, like fat free milk in a clear glass.
I can't take anymore of your agreement, never nod your head in the affirmative again, not unless you've really thought it through.
I like how we are exactly the same, and he wants love and I would give it...this world is truley mysterious.
Thank you for appreciating me...you have never done that before.
I think he's holding on because he knows my book is the last thing connecting him to me...he had his chance...I'm taking it far away.
There is this endless, relentless river. The answers are bobbing there, but the river runs too fast to truely grasp the truth.
Never talk to me of uh oh again...my dad is struggling to relate.
Monday, January 27, 2003
This sleepy, creepy love comes from nothing; this icky sticky mess, my heart. I'm thinking my hands are going to do the talking from now on...clay is my medium...I will communicate.
Old nag, stop pulling on the legs of my pajama pants; I know I am not to be so content.
But never the less, I am, and I feel as if I have broken into the cookie jar. Chocolate sticking to my fingers, a smile on my face. Sugar is so tasty when it's forbidden.
Create, becuase creativity is continuity. I am in love with the bottom to the top, smoothing clay, tasting it on the tip of my tongue, legs spread, knowing the shape of my hands...icky sticky love comes from nowhere.
Old nag, stop pulling on the legs of my pajama pants; I know I am not to be so content.
But never the less, I am, and I feel as if I have broken into the cookie jar. Chocolate sticking to my fingers, a smile on my face. Sugar is so tasty when it's forbidden.
Create, becuase creativity is continuity. I am in love with the bottom to the top, smoothing clay, tasting it on the tip of my tongue, legs spread, knowing the shape of my hands...icky sticky love comes from nowhere.
Tuesday, January 21, 2003
What am I going to do? When will I stop questioning everything and take action? Is my questioning nessacary for my understanding of the action I want to take? If not me then who... Me feeling overwhelmed is not going to change anything. I just listened to a story about how women planted billions of trees in Africa...When am I going to start planting?
Sunday, January 19, 2003
I walked through a maze once and it was so surreal I can, now, only remember it as a dream.
I think I may have brought a puppy home once, that puked on my lap and was immediatly taken back to the farm we had rescued it from.
I may have been stuck in an elevator with my dad and his brother, but they say they don't remember...
Did my dad really snore so loudly it shook the house or was it something else?
When I was still in elementry school I would swear to people, up and down, that I once closed my eyes at night only to wake to the sun a second later.
Was there actually a big dinosour that I went to on a school trip...it looked like the largest slide in the world.
When I smelled weed for the first time, I recognized it immediatly as the smell that permeated my dads room on the bad days.
Katie and I made a trip across a dark feild to a two level shed, I think, and the dolls that were perched on the stairs looked like monsters waiting for a meal.
I think I may have brought a puppy home once, that puked on my lap and was immediatly taken back to the farm we had rescued it from.
I may have been stuck in an elevator with my dad and his brother, but they say they don't remember...
Did my dad really snore so loudly it shook the house or was it something else?
When I was still in elementry school I would swear to people, up and down, that I once closed my eyes at night only to wake to the sun a second later.
Was there actually a big dinosour that I went to on a school trip...it looked like the largest slide in the world.
When I smelled weed for the first time, I recognized it immediatly as the smell that permeated my dads room on the bad days.
Katie and I made a trip across a dark feild to a two level shed, I think, and the dolls that were perched on the stairs looked like monsters waiting for a meal.
Thursday, January 16, 2003
There once was this fish named burt. His name wasn't really burt, it was ernie, but he prefered to be called burt because it sounded more manly. One day burt decided to go out to eat. There was this really great joint around his rock called the pond de yummy. So he went out with five scales, which was a lot of money in his time, to get the yummy special. When he got to the food joint he gave the guy at the water plant gate his five dollars and entered a world of yummy grubs. One particularly fat grub caught his attention and he decided to catch it instead of the yummy special. He swam towards it slowly avoiding the other fish dodging about. It glimmered in the sun and looked delicious, he had never seen such a good looking yummy before. In time, he was close enough to it that he could dart out and grab it with reasonable ease, so he did, and just as he was clamping down he noticed a peice of silver sticking out of the side of the yummy grub. But he notice to late and before he kew it he was being pulled out if the water by the hook that had been hidden inside his precious food. Before he got pulled all the way up he yelled down to the other fish, "the fishers have found our site! The fishers have found us," and then he was in the air dying.
"Looks like we found us a good one." "Yeah he's big alright!" The fish in Jim's hands was flapping around and struggling like there was no tommorow, well, actually there wasn't for the fish, but..."Boy he sure can move!" Good eaten tonight, thought Jim's fishing buddy Ralph...good eatin' tonight.
Burt splashed about wishing he had never gone out to eat. His mother had warned him of going into other parts of the water and he had ignored her like all good, young fish should. But now, as struggling became more and more difficult, he could see her kind face and began to cry, his mouth opening up and shutting. The men in the boat were making loud noises that scared burt and he treid to stop moving about. He stopped struggling, he stoped fighting, he stoped crying, he stopped living and then darkness.
"Wait 'till Rita sees this baby!" Yelled Jim, "You just wait!"
"Looks like we found us a good one." "Yeah he's big alright!" The fish in Jim's hands was flapping around and struggling like there was no tommorow, well, actually there wasn't for the fish, but..."Boy he sure can move!" Good eaten tonight, thought Jim's fishing buddy Ralph...good eatin' tonight.
Burt splashed about wishing he had never gone out to eat. His mother had warned him of going into other parts of the water and he had ignored her like all good, young fish should. But now, as struggling became more and more difficult, he could see her kind face and began to cry, his mouth opening up and shutting. The men in the boat were making loud noises that scared burt and he treid to stop moving about. He stopped struggling, he stoped fighting, he stoped crying, he stopped living and then darkness.
"Wait 'till Rita sees this baby!" Yelled Jim, "You just wait!"
Wednesday, January 15, 2003
I'm gonna write just wait...
Being on campus is intense. When I compare it with home, SUA kind of feels like a weight tied around my ankle, slowly dragging me to the bottom of the ocean...water rushing into my ears, pressure making my heart beat faster, then slower...and slower...and slower...
Embracing the relationships and things that happen to me is my true challenge, because sometimes I jut want to run the other way screaming.."I can't do this!"
You know when there is something that you have to do and you are putting it off and it follows you where ever you go...he's that something. I thought, 'I can just ignore the talk we should be having.'
I had this epiphany the other day that I don't like him any more, but if that's true why do I still get nervous when I know I'm going to see him...why? And where oh where has all my courage gone? Oh, where, oh where could it be?
Independence and structure and the pursuit of happiness are quite lonley endevors. they are...it's true
Being on campus is intense. When I compare it with home, SUA kind of feels like a weight tied around my ankle, slowly dragging me to the bottom of the ocean...water rushing into my ears, pressure making my heart beat faster, then slower...and slower...and slower...
Embracing the relationships and things that happen to me is my true challenge, because sometimes I jut want to run the other way screaming.."I can't do this!"
You know when there is something that you have to do and you are putting it off and it follows you where ever you go...he's that something. I thought, 'I can just ignore the talk we should be having.'
I had this epiphany the other day that I don't like him any more, but if that's true why do I still get nervous when I know I'm going to see him...why? And where oh where has all my courage gone? Oh, where, oh where could it be?
Independence and structure and the pursuit of happiness are quite lonley endevors. they are...it's true
Monday, January 13, 2003
Sunday, January 12, 2003
Something I wrote while I was at home:
It’s true; I don’t know what’s going on. Maybe I don’t want to know. Who am I? Am I really who I am? I want to write. The thoughts in my head want to escape. Me is screaming, articulate!!! For God sake articulate! But it’s not working, and the same thing constantly goes round. I’m lonely.
My grandma was married four times, 20, 26, 40, and 45. Sometimes I think she’s looking down on me steering me in the right direction…but then, I realize she’s probably moved on, maybe she’s one of those kids at the Wal-Mart in Aliso Viejo, a really whiney one.
My adventures in love are at a whopping zero. I’m losing the game, which is interesting because the game is all I think about. I’m spiraling and the end has touched me, looked me straight in the eyes…and what will meet me there. Will I have to wear diapers, and think, that’s only fifty years from now? Will I live in a home for the old, the food made by moms who just want to go home, my neighbors so close to death they dream it every night? What stories will I have to tell then…over and over, will I have to say I never had anybody? Will tears run down my cheeks splashing my newly wrinkled hands as I groan to the young visitor in the room about my wasted, lonely life?
And, really, I need the answer. Is romantic love, all I’ve built it up to be? Is this yanking on my heart because love is a necessity? How come it makes people cry? And write songs and live their lives in constant desire. I’m missing out on something and, recently, I’ve even contemplated online dating. Ok, loser! Something has to change. I’ve been saying that for eight years now, but it’s true, something really needs to give. I have so much love bottled up inside the first will be blown away, right out of the water they will be so loved. I heard not so long ago that each person has thee great loves. The first you will never forget. The first is all cuddles and kisses, dreams and promises that will surely be broken. Separation occurs when the two grow apart, begin to think differently, begin to want different things…
The second is the one you go through all of the shit with. Fights, Broken glasses, bills that aren’t being paid, debt, with the second you learn…you learn about what you want in life, you learn about what you want in love and then you get the hell away from each other before a murder occurs.
The third, and your final, is your soul mate. You marry, and if you’re lucky, you rock in comfortable chairs together when you’re old, death the separator, death the end.
Where is my first? Where are my promises and mutual dreams? I don’t want to be alone anymore. I don’t want to wonder. I don’t want to hear about everyone else’s problems with love and have no experiences of my own to share. My wisdom will someday be useless. I don’t want wisdom to rule my life. I want action to be in the drivers seat. I don’t know how to do this…I just don’t …I…
It’s true; I don’t know what’s going on. Maybe I don’t want to know. Who am I? Am I really who I am? I want to write. The thoughts in my head want to escape. Me is screaming, articulate!!! For God sake articulate! But it’s not working, and the same thing constantly goes round. I’m lonely.
My grandma was married four times, 20, 26, 40, and 45. Sometimes I think she’s looking down on me steering me in the right direction…but then, I realize she’s probably moved on, maybe she’s one of those kids at the Wal-Mart in Aliso Viejo, a really whiney one.
My adventures in love are at a whopping zero. I’m losing the game, which is interesting because the game is all I think about. I’m spiraling and the end has touched me, looked me straight in the eyes…and what will meet me there. Will I have to wear diapers, and think, that’s only fifty years from now? Will I live in a home for the old, the food made by moms who just want to go home, my neighbors so close to death they dream it every night? What stories will I have to tell then…over and over, will I have to say I never had anybody? Will tears run down my cheeks splashing my newly wrinkled hands as I groan to the young visitor in the room about my wasted, lonely life?
And, really, I need the answer. Is romantic love, all I’ve built it up to be? Is this yanking on my heart because love is a necessity? How come it makes people cry? And write songs and live their lives in constant desire. I’m missing out on something and, recently, I’ve even contemplated online dating. Ok, loser! Something has to change. I’ve been saying that for eight years now, but it’s true, something really needs to give. I have so much love bottled up inside the first will be blown away, right out of the water they will be so loved. I heard not so long ago that each person has thee great loves. The first you will never forget. The first is all cuddles and kisses, dreams and promises that will surely be broken. Separation occurs when the two grow apart, begin to think differently, begin to want different things…
The second is the one you go through all of the shit with. Fights, Broken glasses, bills that aren’t being paid, debt, with the second you learn…you learn about what you want in life, you learn about what you want in love and then you get the hell away from each other before a murder occurs.
The third, and your final, is your soul mate. You marry, and if you’re lucky, you rock in comfortable chairs together when you’re old, death the separator, death the end.
Where is my first? Where are my promises and mutual dreams? I don’t want to be alone anymore. I don’t want to wonder. I don’t want to hear about everyone else’s problems with love and have no experiences of my own to share. My wisdom will someday be useless. I don’t want wisdom to rule my life. I want action to be in the drivers seat. I don’t know how to do this…I just don’t …I…
Being back at school is kind of like floating through a dream. No one seems real. In my mind I haven't left portland yet and I don't want to.
Andy, my uncle and I rolled up to SUA and all I could think was this has to be a dream...it has to. I couldn't wake up this morning, because I knew if I did I would be back at SUA, in my SUA bed, all alone.
I miss my Suitee and my friends. Non of them are here quite yet and I don't know what to do. I have no work and no one to hang out with so, now what? do do do....
I guess I'll just hold my breath until tommorow when the work will begin.
Andy, my uncle and I rolled up to SUA and all I could think was this has to be a dream...it has to. I couldn't wake up this morning, because I knew if I did I would be back at SUA, in my SUA bed, all alone.
I miss my Suitee and my friends. Non of them are here quite yet and I don't know what to do. I have no work and no one to hang out with so, now what? do do do....
I guess I'll just hold my breath until tommorow when the work will begin.
Tuesday, December 17, 2002
Monday, December 16, 2002
Sunday, December 15, 2002
Saturday, December 14, 2002
I am...
Mutable like water.
There are pennies in the fountain by founders hall. They don't really bother me, just make me wonder why.
Why do we make these unrealistic wishes.
The wishes on first stars, on rusty pennies that I could have used, on comets...Love, respect, a new life, all my efforts were fruitless.
...so tired.
Beaten
Appretiative
What's going on and how come I'm out if the loop.
My life is passing me by and I'm watchimg with a half smile on my face...wishing I could stop it, and remake it.
A life make over.
But first...there are all of these things I have to resolve.
I have to get better, I have to run away, I have to figure out what I want in this life.
The excuses are abundant. They're bigger then my desires to change and they always win.
If I could just will them to lose. If I could just will them away.
If I could change, god damn, if only I could change.
Mutable like water.
There are pennies in the fountain by founders hall. They don't really bother me, just make me wonder why.
Why do we make these unrealistic wishes.
The wishes on first stars, on rusty pennies that I could have used, on comets...Love, respect, a new life, all my efforts were fruitless.
...so tired.
Beaten
Appretiative
What's going on and how come I'm out if the loop.
My life is passing me by and I'm watchimg with a half smile on my face...wishing I could stop it, and remake it.
A life make over.
But first...there are all of these things I have to resolve.
I have to get better, I have to run away, I have to figure out what I want in this life.
The excuses are abundant. They're bigger then my desires to change and they always win.
If I could just will them to lose. If I could just will them away.
If I could change, god damn, if only I could change.
I want to yell at you and tell you how insinsitive you are. I want to put up a good fight and at least be able to say that I tried. But instead I let you tell me that this...disapointment...would lead to my finding the person of my dreams. Bullshit and you knew it. Well, now it's getting harder and harder for me to look you in th eyes. I don't want to be kind to you and tell you what you want to hear. No... I want to slap you across the face and remined you that I still exsist and I feel the exact same way I did on that day I gave you my soul and you gave it right back. I want to cry to you about how much you are loved, and how easy it is to love you every second, how painful. Why do you insit on pursuing this dream, why am I doing the same thing...target, you. You are the source, of what? My discomfort, my happiness, my sickness. Please, if you care about my saftey, tell me how much you hate me. Talk about how we can't be friends anymore because I don't have perfect hair. If you care for me give me a reason to hate you other then the one I already harbor, my unceasing love.
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