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
Thursday, December 1, 2011
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.
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.
Saturday, November 19, 2011
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?
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?
Friday, November 18, 2011
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.
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
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
Thursday, November 10, 2011
"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
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
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
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
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
Thursday, October 20, 2011
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?"
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?"
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
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."
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."
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