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.