28.2.07

perplexion, the wee hours, and that cigarette

i see it happening again and believe me mister, i dont like it either. the late nights with their gaping mouths and unsteady voices that are strange and inaudible to other ears. and me. sitting. holding that pillow. holding anything. anyone. like i always do. usually wide awake. not focusing on the movie. smoking too much. thinking too much. that film ive talked about before.
[sure you remember]
that constant strip deeply imprinted with - well - everything. flashing and flashing away. clicks here. skips and breaks there. the cat, the suffocation game. the crushed pills in the coca cola and the heart attack. those days.
[its like i write in stop-motion]
its just that im not good at dealing with such a rush of things. much less real memories stuck on fast forward/repeat and a broken stop button.
so theres me.
[yes we love our familiar formats dont we?]
cringing and getting very pissed off. unrolling my attitude and making sure the corners are straight before wrapping myself in it. apologies forming like soft mist deep in the back of my brain as if they know they will be needed soon. trying to be strong enough to combat the hurt ill leave for them to mend. its sad eh? but necessary to hold on to my few shaky relationships that have managed to make it this far. those poor little stragglers.
[here i abandon my subject]
i hate that i smell like menthol skydancers and too much hand sanitizer/lotion. its ridiculous. im going to quit smoking. right now. i mean no one wants to smell cigarettes when they hug you, yea?
ive been breaking things down alot lately. trying to make out borders and feel out the shapes. all of those little idiosyncrisies and the prverbial "warm feelings". the chance of touch and the cold wall of the heart if its had too much to drink.
[hrm]
its just everything is never the same for long. i may find a deep crack and catch hold, almost there now, please come on, and then the world will shift or sigh and i fall back.
[sudden sweet rushing air]
hello mister beginning i am very familiar with your terrain.
people just dont realize that are lines sometimes. they never think they can help or fix a bad feeling or mistake because everything else is strung together, attached at some sick center point. inescapable. its never as bad as it feels. its just a matter of realizing the strings are only strings and scissors are everywhere in todays society. take them apart. sex from love. comfort from pain. knowledge from understanding. like little stitches and nothing more. feel them out with your fingers if you have to. come on. do this. its seperation, and its possible.
[alas]
but i guess then again. to some. the effort isnt worth letting go of the subconcious connection when the world lacks the tangible ones.


last night i dreamt of strangers seen from the window of a moving car and rats squirming softly in aspen. the girl moving slowly over the grass to the house and the angular point of her hair. meeting the kids in a shop then being chased out. so much tension where there once was only simple surrealism.


fuck it.

27.2.07

another 3 am

im a little disgruntled at coming home to a house filled with the world of warcraft. hmm.
im joking. [partially]
work has been buzzing along. i feel a little intimidated at some of the people who call up and tell me its ok that their room witll be 3 hundred and something a night. people who just want to come and drop quarters and nickels into a machine that spins colorful pictures and does little or nothing else. a call, this one call, from girl with my mothers name and a year in age from me. i get shivers when she drops her credit card and laughs like glass. a girl who can get away. somewhere. anywhere. taken care of. hmm. their voices are in there now. i hear beeps and hear them. people just waiting to die and longing to leave nothing behind. its kind of creepy and a little disheartening. when we get old will we be this way. having nothing but slot machines and cold nurses changing our sheets? bringing us pudding to choke on and calling for buses out to the desert?
everything all of the time and such.
the end of our line.
here, i feel tingles in my left arm and see faces from the day.
i say things a little too bluntly. it offsets people i can see it in their eyes sometimes. i never mean to be cruel or anything. i never mean to scare them away.
sometimes i just say things you know. i look too hard you see. i just cant help it. if i ever ask you for information it may be best not to tell me much. i may get the copper taste in my mouth and search for the warm spot where it rests. and if i get there, well it may be too much for your average stranger. trust me. i meet people at work. as you do. with most new jobs. and i think some may already have a weird aspect. i pry. and i let them do the same. im above hiding things now. and i swear if one more person asks about my arm i may just sit them down and spill for good. and leave them crying with a glaze over their hearts and a hope full of holes. i never mean to. it just happens.
swear.
its been so nice out. the sky and the sun have really been coming through.
there are dried and burned bugs up in the vent in my bathroom. every time i turn the heater on they quiver just a little. and then lie still. makes you wonder how slow and painful that was, one second travelling to a delicious light and the next being the point of sick fascination to a girl in the shower. like the bird, i dont think they mind much.
bending things like say, truths and certain tiny metal objects can be a great stress reliever and a fun mind excercise.
wherever it is i want to be there.
i have to get off the com now. WOW beckons the tiny boy minds of my current company.
[heh]

25.2.07

to list or not to list

its not really a question. im gonna list theres no doubt about that. ay my fingers are numb and nearly skinless. plus they seem very bored after pressing the same keys over and over and over agin. they seem very attracted to the f4 button. har har.
oh calm there you are. where have you been dearest? why crouched before the storm you say? hah! i dont believe you you silly thing.

[ignorance here]
radiohead can always control my nerves better than any pill. how ... nice.
[watch out, more random words that i cant seem to make sense of]
i look back. i need to stop- but i do. i look back and see every time- every second... heh. i see whats really there. im my hidden grayish clouds of thought, in my timid gestures and in my twitchy eyes. i see why. and i see how. and i cant help but smile one of those sick little smiles that dont mean anything good at all. what am i talking about. whats that? i cant hear you speak up for christs sake.
eh. [?]
[it never means much. dont worry. i turn cryptic and bitchy all the time if youve never seen a steph blog before.
its always taken with a grain of rock salt and pushed over as one of the mediocre sentimentalities. one of the cookie cutter string of words as laced by another lost child. another generation z fuck up.]

lucky me.
there was a dead bird hanging over the break area where the smokers scramble to every break. its neck was broken and it was caught in the chicken wire that blocks off the rafters that secure the roof that secures the weather. [huh?] it was laying there, all twisted and hlf eaten, way out of the reach of the janitors broomstick and looking very sad and very alone. not that it minds much anymore. but you know. the guy who bummed me a cig was telling me in a completely deatiled and thoroghly engrossing way about how the other birds had been tearing at it earlier and fighting over feathers. he said it was his fault. he had made them cannibals. he had fed them chicken before. [here you go, eat your cousin] i stood there choking back on his virginia slim and wondering with fascination how complex and strange people are. afterwards i went to the restroom and stared at myself for a long time. thanking unknown forces for the ability to be somewhat normal when i needed to be, and sympathetic to all things living. it was a very interesting lunch. the bird hasnt left my mind.
heh. yea about me being sympathetic. to animals and such. i killed my hamster the other night. put her in a bag and left the room. waited till she wasnt turning over and over again. crying in the bathroom telling myself over and over again i wasnt killing her, i was killing her suffering. inner ear infection. loss of equilibrium. inability to digest food. and me without 50 dollars to kill her the right and proper way. needless to say i was traumatized. she was my favorite. ive decided not to own anything that wont live for more than 3 years anymore. the pain is too much and i get way too attached. so i guess the sympathy thing. well thats questionable. i feel like shit about what i did.
by the way i am now stephanie - predator of the breaks at west. if your out smoking a cigarette and you see me coming. just turn and run.
or i will con you out of whatever you got. except fucking slims. GOD thats gross.

im done here i think. shawn is going to die in his sleep tonight.

just sayin.

and now to end my little rant.

a list.

i need:
-to hug people more and randomly.
-to keep on this path.
-to grow up apparently.
-to tell people to fuck off more.
-to realize that sometimes having the capacity to do something doesnt always mean you will. and procrastination is the devil.
-to read book by people with names i cant pronounce.
-to have a cup of coffee soon.
-to stop.
[inside joke of a not so funny nature]
-to laugh more.



fin.