couldnt agree more

i waited. for you. and i know, youve got things to do. responsibilities. so when those guys at that table next to me bought me a drink, i said hold on, wait a second, im waiting for somebody who might be waiting for me. but. you had to go. so i had to go. 'cause im not very patient. especially in matters of the heart. especially in matters of my heart. and no, i didnt finish the beer that they bought me. i pretended to save it and "go to the bathroom" so i could slink away, like you did. responsible ninja that you are. focused escape artist. and thats admirable, thats influential, something to look up to.....but....i just cant hold back in that way. I just cant say I want to do this but I should do this so Im doing this. and maybe thats the difference between you and I or the difference of age or responsibility, maturity, whatever you wanna call it...but....i just know that...life is short as I told the drunk girl in the bathroom who was doubting herself....life is amazing and miraculous and beautiful......and worthy of writing about even if youre kind of drunk and fear sounding like an idiot.....

Inside I feel tangled. I never would have thought it would be like this.
but nevers are severe and I dont know if I believe in them.
Nevers can change and then they lose meaning. Love doesnt lose meaning though, and I believe that with my full heart. However long or short your time together, it meant something and is carried with you for your whole life. If the love was there it isnt just eradicated- it existed, it rested in your chest, it spread through your skin and you shared that feeling with someone. you gave them your love. its not as though it meant nothing, that it never affected you at one time. Love overwhelms me and I would say that I am in love with it.
my heart is breaking too if you can believe that. If you can read this. I cant apologize enough, or maybe I can...because there's only so many sorrys you can hear. I tell you I love you because I do. I dont say that without meaning, without feeling. I live for love. I have been living for love. I just want to make sure its right. what im doing is right. not that everything has to be right...just...want to make sure my head is in the right place. I need to step back...I need to see what I want to do. not based on anyone else. What do I really want? what the fuck do I want

well........?

Holy shit the world is fascinating

A distressed bride attempts suicide in China after her fiance abruptly called off their marriage. Still in her wedding gown, she tried to kill herself by jumping out of a window of a seventh floor building. Right as she jumped, a man managed to catch and save her.

god damn i am so OCD sometimes its annoying. check check check
click click click
yeah the internet makes it worse

cant sleep

my heart is a complicated creature to say the very least
i feel as though it has a life of its own sometimes
and it doesnt tell me about it until im dumbstruck.
it has soft spots,
which makes it quiet and reflective,
a moody teenager that might snap at you,
tender to the core, searching for understanding
dramatic & maybe even a little violent at times
but ultimately, strong & sincere
& meaning well, i think
it is slowly discovering itself
unraveling only for those who pull at the right strings
because I know my heart can be startling & abrasive
it can be reckless & deserves a speeding ticket sometimes
but I promise it is full & shines in my eyes
it can fill my whole body in fact,
so much so that I cant always speak
& that doesnt mean i dont have the words...
im just so overwhelmed that ill let it take over for a moment
i will embrace the twists of pain in its path
i will welcome those questionable clouds
because i know that when i feel myself getting cold,
i am still capable of producing fire
i can feel flames in my veins, if i let it happen
& that all depends on me, on my own blame
how i choose to decorate my wounds is my choice alone
and i know, when i meet somebody
my heart travels past the safety of logic
it takes a trip with guarded excitement
it slowly unpacks, unlocks & opens to show
this is what im bringing, this is what i have
this is where ive been, this is where id like to go

I haveta simmer down. this is ridiculous. but a part of me says if I have to tell myself that, then it must be good.

not sure how old this one is....found it in my drafts. thats a horrible title for it.

i place my hand on your arm
and i worry you might flinch
that you might press deeper into the corner of the couch
that you may think this drink is too strong
but you stay right where you are
you press my prints to yours
you let me so i let you
were holding hands and the music takes note of this
and i hear it but your hands are louder
i swear they would light up if they could
and im going to kiss you
i hope you know that

a weird situation

Amy, Stacy, and I decided to have an extremely girly day. We looked at wedding dresses for Amy because she's going to marry my brother in a year. We talked about all the things people would not assume lovely ladies talk about & we smoked a lot of pot. We had to "prepare" ourselves for the entertainingly awful newest Twilight movie. In other words, we got really silly to see something really silly.

this requires, of course, vast amounts of candy to smuggle in and loudly attack later while previews play. so we go to a cvs and stand giggling and overwhelmed by the selection in the aisle. after careful consideration amidst bursts of laughing at im not sure what, we get in line with other people who we kinda feel sorry for because were laughing so much. yes we are having obnoxious amounts of fun on a monday and there's nothing you can do about it. were laughing about nothing, yet everything around us. were enjoying the moment of the 3 of us here spending our otherwise dull monday elsewhere.

i see generic peanut butter cups as we approach the cashier. apparently this sends my laughter into full barrel heaves from the gut because im so damn amused by how the generic candy is packaged. it makes no effort to pose as anything else or come up with a creative alter ego name (you know how Dr. Pepper has its wannabe imitators such as Dr. Skipper or Dr. A+...somethin like that)...it just says "Peanut Butter Cups" and then my eyes travel down to this awkward cousin of Reese's description on the front and the first thing I read is "creamy peanut." and in my high little mind I think, how funny! just creamy peanut. not creamy peanut butter. creamy peanuts. just one creamy peanut. as if it came that way, pre-creamed. and i dont know why i find it so funny, but i do. and my commotion causes stacys commotion and she looks like shes about to burst in every sense of the word cuz shes laughing and says, "Im gonna pee my pants!" and were still laughing, laughing, laughing, so much laughing. im trying to choke out a sentence to the cashier...but I dont see him. my eyes are watering so wonderfully, but I hand the cashier the cash.

but then. I hear him say, and suddenly the cashier has become a he because I am just now recognizing him and seeing him, I hear him say, "It's just like high school all over again, all the girls laughing at me..." and he says it so quietly and painfully that I know its not in good humor.

im so taken aback in that instant and all of my laughter is diffused. and I look at him and see how small he is, and yes he has terrible acne stretched across his face and some of his neck. he has a mohawk that I dont quite understand because he seems so badly to not want to be regarded. to be looked over in shock as I am looking at him now. he doesnt look at me or my friends. he doesnt look up. he doesnt speak up. and he clearly doesnt understand me either, I think. I wish my mind came up with some brilliant thing to say but my bluntness and abruptness prevents me from being poetic in this moment and I blurt out "Holy shit, I'm not that mean! We weren't laughing at you. We were laughing at...." but as Im explaining this pretty absurd story of generic peanut butter cups and how funny they are, I realize he's not believing me. he stopped listening. he gives me my change and I say, "Well now I feel like a piece of shit." Amy thanks him multiple times. and while this has killed the silliness, the laughter, it ultimately angers me.
He assumed that I would just start laughing at him. that I was that kind of person. He projected his insecurities onto me. I have enough of my own, thank you. and what a sad little man to judge me because he is so used to being judged himself. assuming the worst of everybody. he took the bounce out of our steps because hes so used to being knocked down himself. he directed our laughter into a cruel way, a way that could only be laughing at him and his unfortunate appearance. if there ever was a good example of how hurt feelings, harsh words, travel in circles this would be one of them. All I have to say is, fuck your high school.

goodness me, life is interesting. and heart breaking. and beautiful. and surprising. and complicated. challenging. stressful. blissful. passionate. overwhelming. intense. fun. confusing. sigh-inducing. musical. comical.

well at least to me, anyway.

i plan on just listening to music tonight. got some good stuff. I love music. its just that sometimes im uninspired in my life and repeat the same shit...im not as bad as the radio though...couldnt even begin to complain about the lameness of the radio....to interrupt the melodies i admire for a new & used car sale sounds like a betrayal of sounds. wtf. im kinda....high diddly ho neighborinos

i can get silly too

sometimes this blog gets too emo, or maybe that's me....



.....


...?

i can get cheesy too. but just as cheese involves a process as to how its made...so too, do I.
poetic too?

stats

i think its sad that so far ive written more in 2008 than i have this entire year. i started this blog back in september of 2008 too so that means i wrote more in a span of a few months than an entire year....

i also wrote much more when i was in school, i guess the learning atmosphere and constantly finding new ways to distract myself & avoid homework pushed me to write more for myself even when I had less time

now im not in school and write way less
lets fix that

but its not sad in the sense that im busier with life, with people, living, living with people....
that im not holed up in san jose, in a lonely apartment reeking of my own desperation & neediness (its shifted onto other things and evolved into other forms, dont get me wrong)

yeah, that parts cool

its all in how you look at it, i suppose.

Missed connections

to the lady on the bus
that he talked to
or maybe didnt
but thought about it
and looked at her
and maybe she thought it too
maybe something about her look said
"wait"
wait wait wait
this is a moment here
we connected here
but here you cant bring yourself to be here
in the moment
that now has become a there, a then
instead of here
but you wanna go back there, the here
and tell her what you were really thinking
and then maybe you two can become.....
something. connected again, no longer missed
& you can laugh about the funny story
of how you met
and almost didnt meet
but met again
and connected through wires
that travel up to satellites
littered with lost thoughts and words
alll circling around
through skies,
falling upon those they were directed to
or maybe not

note the changes

"she was a crazy bipolar alcoholic"
ouch. she was your english teacher too.
read you poems every day
poems that she really felt
as often times crazy bipolar alcoholics do
and she digested some of the crazy bipolar meanings that couldve been in each writing
she drank from the big bottle of passion
and you give her nutshell adjectives on the rocks
you summed her up in cliffnotes
so i give her a poem

sometimes we are with people
because we are afraid of ourselves
so when you tell me over and over
how he tells you "Not right now"
i say thats all we have
i cant help but think of
the spirit you are smothering
to be with someone
beside you being someone
but you search for your father's mistakes
and you find assholes
and they discover your insecurities
and snake in the cracks
& they aren't all assholes
but youre searching for the way they can be one
i tell you keep your head above the level of lust
the depth of memories
i have trouble following my own advice too
but i know you can smile much better than that
i know what your real laugh claps like
i know you say itll never be this good
but remember how feelings can be fleeting
take my love for you
& help yourself find it in you
fall in love with yourself,
please

an argument's decay

Cold is safe right?
reserved, preserved
to the back
save it for later
contain it
shelf it
all the ingredients
waiting
but not right now
and warm is
fleeting & teeming
out in the open
spoiling to the eyes
a natural death
the flies i can see
the mold right in front of me
id rather put it out
than find it
some absurd time later
when its long forgotten
and you cant help but say
"Oh my god, that's disgusting. How long has that been back there?"

it was a year ago or maybe two,
im getting older if im mixing up years,
but i said to you:
"I wanna take care of you"
and i meant it in the way that
i wanted you to take care of me
to look at me when i cant see
and tell me where i am
to smooth the lines under my tired eyes
rub my back as my hangover spills out of me
to sleep on the grass with me
in the sun,
in the rain, in a box, if we're homeless
to look up at the sky with me
and wish on burning balls of gas
that this will truly last
i need your thoughtful & mindless time to share
i want new miles and music
i want your deepest darkest, your surfaced, lightest
i want your poetic, dramatic, & your cheesy & spastic
i want your everything a day at a time
to really know you, but still get puzzled
for you to really know me, and the shapes i fit to be
to look at me with all my holes and split seams
and think that i could only be found in dreams
to be stubborn right back to me
take none of my nonsense and i won't take yours
but give me your thoughts, your speech
show me levels that haven't been reached
deep inside of you, deep inside of me
and when i can't always speak,
i need the language of affection
i need legs and arms tangled around me
in webs of blankets and squeezing
i need to be me
i need you to be you
and in order for that
"I wanna take care of you" (each other)
but you took it the wrong way
and maybe you felt vulnerable without a car or room to call your own
but i never saw you as that
the man i want to be with, without these things
i just saw you
and now i see you
getting upset about me saying that
and i see some short time later,
at the end of your mother's birthday dinner
me giving her a hug,
thanks for being born so i could be with your son,
i was always hesitant to hug her, but i did this time
it felt right,
and it was arms full of appreciation
and in this shared moment,
she whispered to me,
just to me,
"Thank you for taking care of him."

the last few poems, writings, whatever you wanna call em,
have sucked.
no appropriate adjective really, just the verb of suctioning
because all i can offer is a vacuous pull at the moment.
my apologies.
sorry.
dont really know who im apologizing to either
uh, myself?

i dont like how you creep back in
how i wonder if youre okay
i dont like that this mightve been how you felt
about a girl you couldnt give up
i dont like that the sweetness can become sticky
sometimes love spikes the punch of pain
because im falling in love
while shedding you off
like the old skin i used to wear
like the old fears i used to carry
and there you are peeled off on the floor
a part of me i cant put back on
i love you with all the past in my heart

but how do you feel?

to feel:
1. to have perception by touch or by any nerves of sensation other than those of sight, hearing, taste, and smell.
2. to have a sensation of (something), other than by sight, hearing, taste, or smell
3. to perceive a state of mind or a condition of body: to feel happy, to feel well
4. to find or pursue (one's way) by touching, groping, or cautious moves ("feeling it out")
5. to be or become conscious of.
6. to be emotionally affected by
7. to have a sensation of being




"I feel way too good touching your hand,"
she said, the words tumbled out of her lips
and oops just like passion to spill it all out there
in this moment of skin brushing skin
after feeling affection first inside
she wanted to give her feelings on high
the gravity of her fingertips
gravitated toward his
and he felt this pulse under his skin too
reaching out for the feelings he felt too
feelings confirmed by an accidental very purposeful touch.
an accidental very purposeful movement
a very clear picture of a blur
a primal fire evolved with lust and love
the need to be regarded and touched;
our hearts pump
physically
so that we are conscious mentally.

what a random moment
to be sitting on the toilet
and have the sudden urge
to open my room mate's drawer
under the sink.
it was jutting out
ever so slightly
and thats how i opened it,
and cast to the back,
the very end
of the drawer's limits
i see the distinctly lovely
just as she was,
the slender and elegant,
just as she was,
watch, that belonged to my grandmother
and now belonged to me
but now belonged to the back of my room mate's drawer
in the bathroom
under the sink
jutting out
in this moment to see the watch winking back there at me
and even though my grandmother would consider this swearing
and wouldn't approve
you bet your ass i took it back

I heard poets are often alcoholics

the hand of my mishaps
has smeared the colors of my memory
into a mix of black
all my happenings
pooled into a dark mess
a puddle of questions
a puddle with no concrete end
i remember certain shades
but i cant sift through the black
retrace what has mixed with what
i cant see how they came to be
and i dont believe in seeing the world
as black and white
but sometimes that's all youve got

text messages

well sometimes theyre just awful and rude
and they have no respect for your movie viewing experience,
class lecture, grandma's birthday dinner,
stop signs, or awkward dates.
they can lie with ease, they can pretend to be somewhere else
with someone else, they could be "lost"
in a clusterfuck of satellite signals
your "lol's" & various abbreviated choppings of the language
could be floating in the stars
never arriving at your screen
or maybe youve lost them
in the constellations of your regrets
because phones are allusive you know
sometimes they fall into toilets
they drop in to where youve blacked out
they get wedged into swallowing seats
they decide to stay long after the party, concert, event with bleachers, and/or
that was fun but there's no fucking way were driving all the way back to get your damn phone trip is over.
during your absence all those words are lost
undelivered packages of what have you missed?
since history evolved from spoken word
into written word
we are taking our words and making them history
we can look through the chronicles of the spring of 2010
through the text window of you and your ex significant other
and perhaps like history, you can analyze the different signs & signals
of the signs & signals you are reading
you could write essays about what your texts mean
you could make yourself seem more important
cuz you have moments polished into fast moving words
that are sent by a mental & physical push of button

i should be so tired....and i am? but my mind is racing, i have too many thoughts. the summer is slipping away. a year ago from today seems so strange now. looking back on myself the way i perceive myself now, looking back at the moments and memories my brain has chosen to save. looking back as a means to see what is now. it's almost like i want to spoil the future, which would really be the present, for my past self. like i wanna wink and give past me a reassuring smile. "It's okay 2010 Laura, youre doing just fine." what am i doing a year ago? where could i have seen foreshadowing definitive moments? all questions i will look back on again in another year. and so on...etc...infinity...until my brain produces no questions or pictures of time

i see too many people
giving their love
to people who give them pain
but if that's all you know
it might be all you look for
but look first toward your own pain
digest its thorns

there's just so many forms of communication now. it's harder to avoid people. and easier.

speak louder than

Tortured thoughts can be unbound
by shaping them as sounds
or the fingers of letters
may slowly unravel
restrictions against travel
on your mind's growth.
Everyone says that its polar
has more effect and volume
but what is shut inside
reflects motions outside.
To speak does not mean defeat,
words may lay flat
or evaporate in the air,
words may not do
but they may share
so that doing
is undone before it ever was a did
so that love is not capped off with a mental lid
so that if we feel the need to spill
we will put feelings into the pitches of our tones
and not the movements wrought by our bones
we will curl in the y of angry and cross our t's
we will unfold emotions as a play of thoughts
where our lips are the curtains that separate
and the mind will craft the figures of speech
to dance up and out of our throats
and stretch to ideas flesh could never reach.

you know somedays you were so poetic i had to roll my eyes
you saw them roll all over you
and because youre so goddamn deep you felt it too
it was dramatic though, because its how we are
even with my blues and greens rolling rolling
it means you kept them in motion
it means my eyes were never still with you
they opened, they cried, they winced, they crinkled, they sighed
and im sorry if i made you feel like a joke
maybe your poetry made it hard to deal with my own thoughts
maybe the way you spoke made it harder to avoid myself
your depth was beautiful, i know it was
i drowned in it from time to time
and i could only reach for your words
but they were slippery and
the lack of touch caused me to sink again and again
i look back at your words now and it hurts to see how far they go
how far they were felt and could have been
how they fell from your mouth and all the way down to your feet
cuz youre that fuckin deep

wednesday nights

the quality in me to pick apart
is bound to the mentality that its justified
im a basket case of wonders
if opened correctly
the wonders will come first
the case second
if i sound crazy
you can call me that
if i sound like a fool
you can call me that
but my heart
it just beats so big

theres always another side to things.
sometimes people who are impulsive arent that way just because theyre rash...they can also feel deeply without appearing to. they can seem to not give a fuck, and yeah sometimes they really don't...but when fucks are given...when thoughts do stir behind their feelings...they can feel deeper than a logical person would. their (my) life might not all be together....they (I) might drop out of school, they (I) might make bad choices because it felt right at the time...but I can promise you their love, when its real, is a fire from the inside. a fire from the heart that spreads, that melts the concrete, the black and white, the lines and rules of things. and if it has turned to ash there is always the possibility of rising again. burning bright and feeling the heat again.

maybe they dont have the capacity to clearly map out situations or truly analyze the consequences of actions, but when they feel- they feel it with everything, with all the chaos inside and out, with all the passion of an abrupt and unexpected kiss, they are of action and that does not mean without words...its just that everything they feel or think might spill out more readily than the reserved. the regret is from what has been done rather than what hasnt been done. so yeah you can call me destructive, or impulsive, and my actions are shouting over my words, but I don't doubt that when my feelings are genuine they come from the deeper depths of me.

I have to go

Come fire
Come fire
Let it burn and love come racing through

Oh I'm still alive
I'm still alive
I can't apologize no

Oh I'm still alive
I'm still alive
I can't apologize no

Learn to lose
Learn to win
Turn my face against the wind

I will move fast
I will move slow
Take me where I have to go

I almost sent her a message again today. I dont know why...because I'm angry and frustrated...and she's just a silent picture I see on the internet. She's your facebook friend. I hadn't really thought about it in awhile, I've been busy and trying to keep it that way. I've been having fun, but then this just sets in on me. I've already forgiven both of you but. there is no hope for us. all of your romantic words fall flat against the walls ive already built against you. I dont need to try and take them down again. I don't need to see your eyes in the morning. I don't need you anymore.

"Love is the irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired"

today it really hurts.

slowly now i turn to say
that i have loved you for a long time
and i see the words in your eyes
i know i do
i see them on your skin
and this feels like
the windows are down and
freshness is flooding my smiling teeth
and surely you feel this too
but everyone feels their own way
everyone has their own
will & way
thoughts & secrets
but you were private in my presence too
so many times i saw your eyes
curve away from me in mystery
& then circle back as though it was fine
i didn't know how to ask
& you didnt know how to tell me
i didnt know about many things
lies can stack themselves, really
they dont even need your help
they just build and build
they just build right over your eyes
and i was there with that smile on my face

I make bad choices.

how much money do I make?
what about how much love
how many insightful comments
how many blanks stares
lopsided smiles
heavy sighs
how much twirled gum on my tongue
how many tap taps with my nails
bad jokes

how many beats per minute
am I worth

research papers always incite blogs

sometimes im just. really obnoxious. and i annoy myself. and gosh so over the top. so write about in a bloggish of you. oh laura. oh roll your eyes. oh shaking head. oh god you lost your phone again didnt you. oh you spent too much money again huh. yeah peter pan complex...messy room...selfish...yeah..yeah...yeah

but just knowing that you exist in the world makes my life seem easier. It makes it better. Even when we aren't on good terms the knowledge that you're there brings me peace.



tell me, do you have someone you feel that way about?

i like the idea of going with the flow...but deep inside it's not who i am. however comfortable it is...there is the sense of a coiled imagination constricted and wishing to reach out beyond my skin. and theses stretches that occur, well they seem uncomfortable because they are, as they should...because it's change, and it occurs without your permission. the need for new splays out its hands and grabs hold of something inside. it shakes something, inside. and these feelings shine in our eyes. they slip into the creases of a troubled expression. they twist our questions around their fingers. but if this were a constant state we would have no homes. no arms to fall into...strange lovers do not hold the same peace. no familiar words to smooth the lump in your throat. and theres this constant struggle of change and familiarity. a need to travel and a need for home. thrilling instability. warming stability. yes a rush of cold air is exciting, but not at all times. a warm touch brings you back to your heart. now arms may seem like traps at times but they can open them too. they can pry the tight jaws of the world that you didnt see sinking into you.

the love is not gone. dont slip away. i am missing you today. you say were not on the same page
but i fold the corners of my heart with you in mind.

one of the doors at work was jammed. who knows why it wouldnt open, but my manager taped a sign on the door to warn others of this unfortunate situation. it said:
the door
it does not work
please use next door
sorry. :o(

me and my coworker laughed, but it was a loving one. because we love our manager for all of his hard work and for his little mistakes. He has a thick accent. he came from El Salvador. he spells american names phonetically. his mustache is usually curled up in a smile. he laughs a warm and full laugh. he accepts you. he shakes his head when youre late but does not scare you. his energy and face are naturally sweet.

Larry, a regular customer, is a middle aged man who always seems bitterly tired. He has the pocked face of someone obsessive. i guess he picks things apart, including his own face. i never see him smile. i never feel positivity from him. he never asks how i am. and i remember his name. his aura, energy, whatever you would call it, is not so repulsive i dread when he comes in, its just not pleasant, not something i want to surround myself in, its the equivalent of a gentle wince. but thats because i dont know larry. today though, i got to understand why i felt this presence from him. i heard him laugh and since ive never heard him laugh, i looked to find out why. he was reading the sign. i chuckled and said, "oh, yeah.." and then he said,
"Made in the USA, right? Am I in America?"
Oh Larry, you shithead.
I was startled by his response and couldnt think of anything to say in those few seconds after he said it, so he just left and i came up with things to say when he was gone.

are you in america? yes you are. it is a diverse place. the man who wrote that came from el salvador, did you know that? he came here because America, the shiny apple that it is, seemed to have more opportunity for him. in fact americans came to california because they thought things would be better there too. they came and squatted on mexican landowners farms until the owners were basically kicked off their own land. (thats a very brief history lesson) and we all know what happened to Native Americans. America is culture. America is undoubtedly crass, sure, but it is choice, it is options, it can be grammatically incorrect.

i broke a lot of hearts at one time. because i was broken too. how cliche. it was a rampage of lost attention. now you see me now you dont. and i said i would call and i didnt. lets hang out with no real intentions of doing so. thoughtful notes with no real feelings attached. detached. smiling with sheer amusement. bored. fickle. careless. chaos i controlled. click. its over. sorry, this isnt what i want. but. generally things get old. this was a couple years ago, maybe more, probably more. i was looking for someone. for me. for something. i looked too close to find it. you know people say its probably right before your eyes. my problem was that i tried to love everything right before my eyes. i tried to focus in what was right there. tangible. fuckable. i didnt just step away. so perhaps you knew this then. but i felt like it was real and that i could love you. and we could draw pictures together and get into explosive arguments that would end in explosive sex. and i thought it would be so convenient. and i thought that together we tasted good. but i thought too much. and i thought out of my element. i thought in loneliness. and i wanted to thank you for holding that other girls hand. for swinging away with her right in front of me.

and i wanna thank the boy that i was sort of trying to see before that. the one that just never called me back while i stared at an empty phone. like a blank face telling me "i am not interested". and i was so excited that i shook him off like a disappointing frost. i was too expectant and i was too much. too everything oozing out at once. desperation really does hang over you like some unflattering cloud fueled by nerves and horniness. would i really wanna date me then either?

these were the two necessary slaps to my ego that i hadnt felt in a while. it felt so good to be crushed again. you are not in control anymore! love has found you out. you are powerless to it. sorry.

and these disappointments occured around the same time because i was so out of sorts i felt it necessary to blur "projects" together. that i wasn't something if there wasn't someone. but i got tired. and i wallowed around wondering where all this yearning energy was going. but one day something inside me just said "relax why dont you?" just make a friend. so i saw you and you knew the same people as me. and i said theres a friend. it helps that hes cute yes. but theres someone to talk to. god dont just hang some heart over their head automatically. and with these ideas it happened naturally. and we fell in love as two unsuspecting people often do. and really i was thankful for those failures because they made me terrified. they made me hesitant and thoughtful. thank you failures. that crazy desperate energy found a way to remain dormant so my feelings could play themselves out and that energy became passion saved for the genuine. and i felt you. and you felt me. and how could i not be in real love without real pain?

when you're feeling sad

You open the door,
but just as I think I have made it in,
you shut it on my chest,
my lungs collapse on its hinges
& my heart is shaking out onto a pillow.
I'm swallowed by sheets,
but they dont hold me like you,
they don't kiss my neck & slide inside of me,
they are flat &, without dimension, I am too.
I am wandering in a depthless blue,
I am thinking up sad lyrics of you,
I am walking in my own shoes.
My soul stays in my eyes & does not bounce off of you,
& I don't look so good these days, its true.
They say some new clothes & color might perk things up,
but I don't find you on a hanger or in box,
I wish maybe that I could put you there though,
because you hang on the hooks of my thoughts,
you tangle the wants and what I oughts,
& in defense I make a shield of superficial strength,
until it becomes my own abilities and skin
until I become the door worth looking in.

Life is passing me by
I forget to floss
I forget to stop and fuck the roses
I sense this
and I wanna be senseless
but there is money involved
and I pay for knowledge
and I pay for gas
I pay for fun and I pay for fast
I hope for skills
and I want like, an awesome tan
I want a degree
so at the reunion I can say im important
and people will say "oh really? that's interesting."
I want walls of my own
vacations that I save up for
drugs and groceries to buy
but this idea of routine
makes me pull out my fake color hair
that I bought from a box
cuz I think genetics need some help
and I think a lot of things need help
but people are helpless to ask for it
I think my thoughts are just constant distractions
but and theres usually a but
thoughts are really exceptional
except for brains in small boxes
minds with no color spectrum
signals simple and thick
like the lamest greeting card you didnt think up at all
I dont wanna be friends with that
but I always want people to wanna be friends with me
even though its much cooler to seem like you dont care
im pretty sure thats stupid though and not in my genetics
and sometimes genetics don't need help
sometimes you were born with all the right chemicals
sure, you probably have a.d.d
your attention could have no structure
it could be spiky and resistant
you could be writing about things that are pouring from your head
and spilling in circles that you hope someone will like

im not cynical about love,
if anything i need to be a little more bitter....or whats another word for that.....realistic?
but when i hear people talking about forever
and its only been a couple of months
im as concerned as a tattoo that senses it will be removed
and i know everything looks good from out there on the bleachers
but when you get close, there is sweat, and mud and heat
theres exhaustion, blood, and grinding teeth
and if you dont take the proper time to get to know the grit first
youll be dehydrated by the early intoxication of sweet
and i know the path is long and the beginning is charged,
i just dont think there should be any shortcuts when meaning is involved

you, i, we, want to say the right things
words that are beautiful
words that keep us safe for when we need them
but speech can be clumsy
it can be crude and wait thats not what i meant
i didnt mean to say it that way!
famous voices can put you, me, us to shame
and in some situations,
language is tied to the chair of our emotions
and you, i, we simply can not speak
the thoughts that are scratching can not be let out
our tongues are bound by a silenced logic
but i want you to know how i feel!
because love isnt all beautiful
and the unromantic can really be romantic in disguise
so ill try to spell it out for you cuz i know youre not a very good speller.

go out dancing

youre a beautiful girl on a friday night
the world around you will stop and look
at you feeling the chemicals you took
but this is all for a release
for the pinches of pressure to cease
just your body caught in a wave
music telling it how to behave
to obey the bass
shaking from the ground to your face
with those eyes made dark and bright
to speak through the dim of the light
they might call out for a dancing knight
to rescue you from the beasts that hold tight
to the sway of your hips without permission
who surprise you into submission
should your telling eyes be heard

the right moves will pull you away from the absurd
because you are meant to move this way
you listen to speakers in respect

let the beats make their speech
your attention they do beseech
so shake your ass and be polite
as they speak to you tonight

We wear a coat of memories
and the longer we wear,
the thicker it gets,
and it is warm and protective
but it is heavy and possessive
so when you remove such safe threads
when you try to pluck a warmth that has grown over time
the cold that spikes up your skin can feel like
waking up alone in the morning over and over
but you won't forget the heat that was there
no, you couldn't forget that

i like to make friends
and meet new people
and take pictures with these people
and get drunk and dance
and smile pretty and wear dangerous shoes
i like to make conversation in bathroom lines
and tell girls how pretty they look cuz i know it makes them feel good
i like to make jokes and make people think im charming
and im special and im sweet and theres no one like
but i dont get close to many people
i cant say i love more than a handful of people
i mean this drink is really good
but you havent seen me throwing up my life
you havent read what i write
you havent seen me cry
you havent really felt me
and you probably wont
but it was nice to meet you

the pain that life brings creates pinholes in your heart
but these allow for the love of others to fall into them