Does it make you happy to ignore me on streets? I guess by now you think I’m weak. I wish you could have said something before now. I wouldn’t share a bag of chips with you. In my opinion you don’t have a clue.
I’m being cruel! I’m being cruel!
You’re the one pretending to be licking stamps. All alone in a room following lines on maps. It’s clear you don’t want me here. How about I send you a book on nutrition. You can stop spoon-feeding me non-fiction. Just for a while, I will fake a smile.
Well, once I gave a look to you but you never gave it back. So here I stand expressionless but my memories intact. I guess the past is good for a laugh. A comedy so dry and black, it makes my stomach hurt so bad. Well, two thumbs up we give this one, despite it's predictable ending. The dialogue seemed rushed and wrong, but the actors did their best to lay some worth on every word, like coffins dropped into the earth. Drinking blood don't keep me young. It's just the taste on my tongue. It makes me stay up late and talk.
Destroy myself? heh... WTF.
Sun, Aug. 20th, 2006, 07:38 pm
The animals laugh from the dark of the wilderness. A baby cried hard in an apartment complex, as I pass in a car buried under the influence. The city is driving me out of my mind. I have seen a child is caught in the sad trap of gravity. She falls from the lowest branch of the apple tree and lands in the grass and weeps for her dignity. Next time she will not aim so high. Yeah, next time, neither will I.
I know that there are worse things than being alone. I have learned to retreat at the first sign of danger. I mean, why wait around, if it's just to surrender? Ambition, I have found, can only lead to failure. I do not read the reviews. No, I am not singing for you. I stood dropping a coin into the pit of a well. And I would throw my whole billfold if I thought it would help. With all these wishes I make, I should buy something real.
So now I try to keep up, I have been exchanging my currency, while a million objects pass through my periphery. So now I am rubbing my eyes because they are starting to bother me. I have been staring too long at this screen. But where was it when I first heard the sound of humility? It came to my ears in the goddamn loveliest melody. How grateful I was then to be part of the mystery, to love and be loved. Let's just hope that is enough.
I'm sick, lonely, no laurel tree, just green envy. Will my number come up eventually? Like Love is some kind of lottery, where you can scratch and see what is underneath. It's "Sorry", just one cherry, "Play Again." Get lucky.
But then, my knees give under me. My head feels weak, and suddenly, it is clear to see, that it is not them but me, who has lost my self-identity. As I hide behind these books I read, while scribbling someone else's poetry, like art could save a wretch like me, with some ideal ideology that no one can hope to achieve. And I am never real; it is just a sketch of me. And everything I have is trite and cheap and a waste of paint, of tape, of time.
So I hold my tongue, forget the song, tie my shoe and start walking off. And try to just keep moving on, with my broken heart and my absent God. And I hang like a star, fucking glow in the dark, for all those starving eyes to see, like all the ones we've wished upon.
Sun, Jun. 18th, 2006, 09:49 pm
You do not see me die here beside you, in see-through obscurity. Governess, fancy less, we'll sound the alarm, and drum up some simpleton for you to eat these apples from your eyes. Emptiness fills the room. Your love's bud goes full bloom. You don't love me anymore. Beautiful surroundings, I'm just some gravel.
Or peat moss...
Storybook ending, I'm just a ledger. Hardly worth a mention, or the paper it's written on, and cried upon, and kissed once by wax. But still you treat me like you do, with everything I've done for you. Striking like a bird of prey along your notepad, now the only year that turns your way. Why am I waiting for you to see I'm alive?
For as long as the trees throw down blossoms and leaves, I know there will be a parade of unpainted dreams.
Tue, Jun. 13th, 2006, 12:36 am
I never knew that everything was falling through. That everyone I knew was waiting on a cue. To turn and run when all I needed was the truth. But that's how it's got to be? It's coming down to nothing more than apathy? You'd rather run the other way than stay and see the smoke and who's still standing when it clears?
Let's rearrange. I wish you were a stranger I could disengage. Say that we agree and then never change. Soften a bit until we all just get along. But that's disregard. Find another friend and you discard. And suddenly I become a part of your past. I'm becoming the part that doesn't last. I'm losing you and its effortless. Without a sound we lose sight of the ground, in the throwaround.
Never thought that you wanted to bring it down...
Skip the cloak and dagger bit. Don't you know we're sick of it? As much as I would like to stay, the message light just blinks away. And while I'm here you won't push play. You leave me no option to indulge in this. Exercise in cowardice. Ignorance without the bliss.
Because I know where this boat will go. Pulled down by the undertow. It's lucky I know how to row. So propel, propel, propel your craft, placidly down the liquid solution. Ecstatically, ecstatically, ecstatically, ecstatically... existence is but an illusion?
Thu, Aug. 18th, 2005, 11:17 pm
Last night I had a really euphoric experience. I usually have high, defined, rigid standards of what beauty
is. I haven't been posting for awhile or sounding like myself because, well, I was beginning to get
depressed, hopeless, because there are so many ugly things around me, and I only like attractive things.
Well, last night I couldn't sleep again. I looked outside the window and I saw a b i r d. Not any
special kind of b i r d. Not any rare kind of b i r d. Nothing like that at all. Just a
plain, insignificant, darkly colored b i r d, flapping its wings in the moonlight. Slowly, it
settled down to its perch, it's hiding spot, a comfort area on a jagged-looking tree. It quietly rested at
its perch. Then it glided smoothly into the air, perfectly penetrating the pores of the wind. What freedom
it has. If it doesn't like something, it can flee, fly, and abandon the entire world, as it knows it. And
go somewhere else. How I crave to experience the feeling of joyous rapture like the b i r d. The feeling
of power. The feeling of change. The feeling of being literally above everyone else instead of only
metaphorically. The feeling of being completely braindead but not knowing it. My pupils widened, taking in
darkness and excitement, as the b i r d neared to my window. Suddenly a ray of bright white light appeared
on the window, and it seemed like Nature was greeting me, or a magical fairy had appeared at my window, no
wait, it was b i r d shit, but it was a beautiful and euphoric experience nonetheless. At that
moment, I underwent an epiphany. In which I realized that even unimportant creatures with flaws are still
creatures, and maybe they even have more freedom. They have the right to take dumps wherever they damn
well please. This, to me, seemed metaphorical to many stages of my life and it was a night that I will
never forget. At that moment, all disdain that I felt for fat, ugly, poor, and unpopular people was gone.
I wanted to be o n e w i t h t h e m . I wanted to be u n i f i e d. I did. It was
Well, it just goes to show -- you can wish in one hand and crap in the other and see which one gets filled first.
Thu, Mar. 24th, 2005, 05:08 am
new journal. same lame.