it never matters

i am, have always been, will always be brash and strange.

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.

last night

a list

i am
-fucking hungover. urrg.
-weightless [but only in my head]
-waiting for john and giselle to wake the FUCK up so i can go get food. fuck, you guys.
-still seeing tom defending us at the bar. valiantly i might add.
-in love with shiner now.
-still confused at to why a british pub has even a cubic square inch of nonsmoking area.
-changing cigarette flavors to camel infused.and yes i am that serious of a smoker. [pray for me]
-a little embarrassed
-still laughing from when we told giselle we applied at nationwide and she asked "wheres that bar?"
-still fucking sleepy.
-excited about tonight.

last night was much needed fun. we went we laughed we drank. it was nice not having a little black lining of fear on the whole night. it was nice just wearing whatever instead of mathcing my black to black. it was nice curling smoke sround my fingers as i leaned in to hear new things from the artists around me. we could have been anywhere. plus there was the super cool element of having jon act as our personal bodyguard. he even looked the part with the ear piece and everything. [sadly he just works for mad dogs but a girl can pretend right?] what was funny was that it wasnt even him who was the big strong man for the night, it was tom. two douche drunk McNobodys walk up to our table and catch us talking about a girl at the next one. i swear their like what you two talking shit for. i was just like no no no no i just admire her confidence. drunk 1 says why. i say well i dont know cause we dont have much. giselle has a funny look on her face. shes like yea. they go into this whole thing about havent you seen a mirror and blah blah fucking blah when tom walks up and drunkenly and in the most polite way asks them to fuck off. these ladies are with me. priceless. the whole time jon is behind us watching. it was just gross because they stank and drunk 2 was touching giselle. ugh. men in bars. wonderful. but tom was our puerto rican knight in shining drunkness. yesss.

i want to go to the industry tonight. and you know what, i am goddamnit. its weird going out and having the money to do it. i love this feeling. and the car. i love that too. the one thing im worried about is running into folks. right now, there are just some people i dont want to see. but you know seeing how last night was soo good, i think ill give the weekend another go. heres to otpimism.

now if youll excuse me im gonna go wake those fuckers. if i woke up before them, somethings wrong. maybe they died. hrmmmm.

heh.

no title please

[the me that you know had some second thoughts]

so heres me folks, again with the tired mistakes and the crooked writing. the unnatural logic and the taboo of workplace gossip. today im full of it all. today im just fucking bursting.
there is so much to say.
most of it will never make it down. but the stragglers can make for their own.

last night i got drunk. its nothing new to me sure, but my tolerance. oh my poor tolerance. haha. after the first small glass of rum and coke i was flushed and ready for a rabid knife fights. dizzy with the tie my hand behind me mister, ill take your fucking ear off kind of confidence only the grains can give me. hmm. we wrote last night. all of us. well the three of us, anyway. the only fools who could put so much into finding the paper, grabbing for pens to stand at the ready as jonathon said "time". we wrote and it was thrilling, if only for a moment. abe meandered through his thoughts, and having been drinking for much long than me and duane, eventually mustered a "hey guys i cant even read what im writing". one down. my scratching was full of facades and coverups. trying to pull emotion from something that couldnt stand up to the truth of the topic.
i was hit, i was burning in the air. i was down.
duane wrote on. he had much more to say. he was the last one standing when the clock finally rested. hmm. and he won. oy, he won. but hey i was a close second. abe, honorably mentioned. yes folks this is what we do on a thursday night. this is our party. hmm.

heres what i wrote.
the topic: the one that got away
me: buzzing softly
[im going to embellish. sorry. i have to. im typing now.]

the one that got away was the one that didnt fight.
there was no struggle, there was no turn in events.
there was only his back and sad pleading backround music.
there was only the fleeting glance of another lover running from the scene.
her reflection, if only for a second in the face of a grandfather clock. in our home. her smell on my sheets.
[invasion]
there was only this.
somewhere in the ruins you find yourself swallowing the gravel. its either that or choke on it. you see the lights instead of the steady fog. theres nothing sweeter than knowing that you will survive. unless you also know that youll now have something to carry.
oh, his doe eyes.
oh, his tears on your breasts.
oh, his words.
words
words
words.


nothing.

somehow your on a plane now. pockets empty, the old home empty, and your unknowingly making plans. quietly rebuilding. familiar faces are your new cover. our seeing them for the first time. again. how long has it been?
where have i been?
and somehow it makes sense to the moderator in your mind, as she sifts through your thoughts, nodding in short handed approval. simply recounting the points. checking the matches. double love. what a laugh. no one understands anyway. how could anyone, when you were so deep in love. again with the laughing. silly girl. get on with it.
god, her reflection.
and there are times when you reach back, if only out of curiousity. your hands are swimming in the stale air. thinning air. most times. you just have to see.
maybe?

hrm.

[never]

now your only anger.
now your fucking away every ounce of pain.
your drinking.
your laughing.
your living.

without.

oh, his grip on your conscious.
oh, his wily curves.

count them now sweetie. your down. down where the loss settles. and youll never know how much your giving. until its gone. its love and all its glory. sign the waiver, meet the standards. the one that never fights.
the one that walks.
the one.

.fin.


so yea thats what i wrote. i kind of like it. too bad it was a bit innacurate. fuck it.
duanes mouse is really fucking up my christmas.
geezus.


aaaaaah. now THAT was nice.

curling smoke, existentialism. and the burning question

poetic goings on.
and me with more to say.
i was just outside. i was just out there. the drunk girl among men. the nothing among meaning.
i was just there.
and now here i am.
thankful for the moments full of understanding. thankful for the seconds where there lies realization. thankful.
heres me.
typing horribly. messing the words. mucking up the points. beligerent.
heres me.
and yet here i stand fighting to defend these "breaks" in the everyday. the tiny pauses in the mundane.
the talks about rage, the talks about the unknown. our thirst to just understand, the unimaginable.
and heres us now. heres us sweetheart. its us against the world. us against the steroetypes.
i can only say that this is what keeps this girl among the living. this is what keeps my ears perked. this is the time where my thoughts can truly flow. this is where it rests. this is where it grows, and transforms into the tangible.
i would kill for these moments.
i would die for these partial moments.
i would give everything.
to keep this.


think im a drunk.
feel that im in need of saving.
say that im a lost soul.

but never assume.
never assume.
that i am in need of something more.


i have it all here.
my brain tells me.
sates me.
calms me.
slaps me.

and tells me softly and without remorse.

"these moments are all thats left"