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