Friday, February 27, 2009

wake up

clear head

how is it i have you when im this deep in it.

words from a kindred spirit and the girl in the bathroom.

breath taking. life is breathtaking sometimes.

it instills faith. and truth.

let me finally write about him. cryptic still but this time, the heart ache gone, the pain gone. finally maybe we've found our way back. to what should have been.
and i ask you.
remember our first conversation? when you told me all those things. your life and your struggle. when we poured all over the other. when even though we hardly knew one another we shared. im glad youre back in some way. glad we have finally moved past it all. all the shit and the grey areas and the want and the pain. this is what we were meant for maybe.
we shall see.

and this girl. god this girl. tonight in the bathroom of some restaurant. she was crying and i was there. i ask her whats wrong and she sobs. tells me not to worry but i go and put my arms around her. and she tells me her life. im nothing she says. just some stripper she says. she cries and i hug her tighter and push her towards the mirror. look i say look at yourself. such a pretty girl. lost and forgotten. shes pregnant. shes nothing. she repeats it. and ive been there. she says i dont know you. i say it doesnt matter. this is what we are. women and all that is strong and powerful. she looks at me and my heart breaks. i tell her about womens week and i brush tears from her eyes. she breathes and this time the tears stop. maybe she will see. maybe she wont. but life isnt math and this might be the turning point.

right now im full of emotion.

full of hope and full on the night.

this.

this is it.

what dreams are made of.

like i said, we shall see.

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

how

is it
i'm this ...

loopy

right now.

see: the falling down stairs blog.

then in a second im clear headed and the flow of everything these last few weeks gave me is drowning me.
confusing lead ons.
calling in.
sleep sleep sleep.
pills.
being drunk in and out.
here and there.
stories and yes, that wonderful kind of friction.
nothing beats the kind of acceptance i have.
nothing could be more pure.

Monday, February 23, 2009

what was and now is not

a list:

too much and too often i am

-waiting
-smoking
-cackling
-picking at things
-pacing
-wanting
-trying to make people understand what it is to be like this
-marveling at people who float through like they dont care
-confused
-under the influence
-awake
-reaching


what is it to want anyway. a simple thing really. i see people at work and i want to touch my chin to their shoulders. i sense the grief in old people and i want to take them to dinner and let them spill over the table into my brain. preparation. i want so many things. ive said it before. never the storybook romance, never the picket fence. maybe a sense of being that isnt ever changing. maybe another person who can tell me what it means to exist and how we can change that state. think tanks. other people. i want to peel them open and crawl into their warm minds. invasion. always the invader. not true. somehow im always left on the side of the road. scratching my head and trying to find a highway to get home and clean myself up. thumbs out, mouth open. wonderful image.

last night i dreamt. finally.
about a woman in the rocks of the ocean in a dress that was so red when it touches the water and blended into the waves it looked like she was bleeding satin.
a rape and a worse form of love.
of work. and the people there. its funny how your mind changes people and in the dreams you have they look how you feel about them.
and me waiting on the edge of a bed for someone who would never come. heh. take it how you want it.

maybe its cause i watched Fur directly before going to sleep.

i feel strange today. awesome.

:/

there's a better way to say certain things

but never the right amount of time.
[rush]
holy shit have i forgotten how to type? has it been this long?
my fingers fumbling and me tripping balls on something he dropped into my mouth while i dyed my hair. was it that kind of night. maybe so. maybe the taste of vanilla coke made me ignore the consequences as i swallowed. the dye washes out and as with every attempt i'm new and changed refreshed in the high illogical mirror in my little bathroom. its foggy and i'm looking intently. scissors cross my mind, too much trouble. then my house is too small and cold an quiet and now i'm here in the warm loving arms of the interweb trying to find my footing. i couldn't stay there, left to pace and lay awake and pick at my couch.
nights are a challenge again. overwhelming and long. they aren't for sleeping. not to me. just stretches of dark time and nothing on the tv. books i've already read scattered and i haven't done my homework how could i focus at a time like this anyway.
the only thing i seem to do consistently is go to work. heres me, wired on shots of expresso and chocolate, staring. people flow in and out. control your children please. [yea right] heres me in a state, learning names of people ill never really know and making coffee coffee coffee coffee. its fun work, i should say. but repetitive in its actions. my hands flick off caps, shake water from things, hit the buttons.
[what was i even talking about before.]
cant keep track you see. this night, maybe im coming down. im losing energy fast. im confused. my friends send me cryptic texts, with words in the wrong order, theyre drunk somewhere, theyre lost, something about killing things then abrupt cut offs and stretches of silence. i need answers from certain people, but it doesnt seem as important to them. welcome back paranoia.
oof, these pills, what color were they? my body feels floaty.
the other night i went to a club, one of my old haunts you could say, from a different time. i drank until the lights swam and the boy i was with was dead meat. im an attacker lately. a destroyer? something. im something. its just unclear right now. in and out and me the next morning with that wonderful devastating feeling in my stomach. cant eat. too nervous, cant fight back, its funnier this way.
do you get it? i dont. i just miss the flow and bustle of the words and the truth that they imply. you wouldnt lie to me would you he asks me. i look back at him and almost cock my head in amusement. boys. they look at you funny when they think your not looking. personal questions and awkward touches. fun fun fun.

i should do this every night.

maybe then i could go back and edit for dramatic effect and get some goddamn sleep.