| Everything's got a moral if only you can find it. |
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| Strangers with familiar faces... |
[17 Jul 2008|02:38pm] |
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mood |
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 peaceful |
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Surprisingly unrecognizable, we find ourselves here, the unfamiliar motions seemingly ripped from someone else's life. I wonder how much time's been wasted, and feel maddeningly hollow, aching slightly like a yellowed bruise. This story was etched in stone since our inception; the inevitable ending seeps into every memory (sickening and cheapening) until I see you like a photo under water, or like a storybook character that fails to surprise. Your form I recognize; your heart, I don't.
Oh, Fortuna, how your wicked wheel does spin [ regnabo | regno | regnavi | sum sine regno ] Begin again-- your mouth tastes like hope.
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| It's my birthday |
[23 Jun 2008|12:28pm] |
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mood |
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 hungry |
] |
There needed to be someplace to collect the rivulets of inspiration, like rainwater in a bucket.
I feel strikingly sane, uncommonly capable, and a tiny bit lonely.
But I don't feel surprised.
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| Sun stains on the hardwood floor... |
[07 Oct 2006|10:55am] |
I don't have much to say.
I just wanted to say hello.
Hello, and I'm wearing a bathrobe, watching the cat try to share the already occupied pillow.
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| Good thing I know a Staples worker with a cute bum... |
[09 Nov 2005|10:42am] |
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mood |
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 cheerful |
] |
Your character is golden- these people just don't understand.
Sidenote: You're right about being heroin. Of course.
The majority of things are looking up: since there's some kind of electric connection, maybe they are for you too.
1
2
3
4
All the numbers have blended into a single focal point...oh let's not even count the ways in which we're blessed.
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[09 Oct 2005|11:13am] |
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i've sorted out my enemies, even the ones that lie the closest, and i have an escape plan.
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| Thank you. |
[10 Nov 2004|06:13pm] |
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mood |
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 ecstatic |
] |
I am so grateful for these people and their beautiful thoughts that stimulate my heart. I had forgotten what a deep breath felt like.
I'm okay to walk away, if that's what I need.
.abre.los.ojos.
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[29 Sep 2004|12:25am] |
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mood |
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 morose |
] |
It's one of those nights...the kind that hurts your skeleton because you're tired of carrying your worries. The kind where the air is sort of steamy and you're warm, but want more clothes to hide you from everybody's mechanical stares. I'm in the dark with plenty of people to talk to, but nothing to say...am I really the nightmare I project? Am I everybody's worst heartbreak...that feeling they have in their guts that says runsofastsofar but they are afraid of my reaction. I feel like I keep trying to jump but even gravity deserted me-I can't even fall! I thought so long about covering myself with scissorbites and wondered why I am getting so attached to these idealistic views, the thought that someday maybe I won't wake up wishing so hard that I was someplace else. Sometimes I worry about how things are going to be in the end, then I remember I don't even know if I'll make it there.
I think that these empty jumbled thoughts are the things that people semi-skim and think in their sing-song heads: thatgirlissocrazyshe'snotquitelikeusandwe'regladwe'renotlikeher and I just have to shake my head a little and say i don't blame you.
i make such a good statistic someone should study me now somebody's gotta be interested in how i feel just 'cause i'm here and i'm real and oh how i miss substituting the conclusion to confrontation with a kiss...
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[28 Sep 2004|10:36am] |
Should I know who that is? I think he was a hobbit or something...or Rod Stewart's son...Anyways, that looks like my mom's old car with some man driving it.
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[27 Sep 2004|07:47pm] |
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mood |
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 dorky |
] |
Quite the plan I have going on! Jonathan...I knew it all along. :) And Amira, you'll make a good best man- all you need is a weener and a tux and we're good to go. XO.
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| Angles of nighttime corners... |
[21 Sep 2004|11:36pm] |
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mood |
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 nauseated |
] |
i think i fell out of a paper airplane, looking like a defeated angel, with bloodied wings. crippled and unusable. i don't know why i'm so anxious to protect the things that don't belong to me, or why ferocity wells up inside at the smallest effects now. i am underworked and overappreciated and worn from doing nothing. i'm no longer allowed to sit in the driveway for as long as i like- just sad prisoner to this place and its incentives. unfortunately for us, until today i had never heard so perfectly what was wrong with me. you don't even know you said it, but i feel so robbed upon that realization that i can't even speak. i feel like somebody pulled me up from the garbage, like a bent umbrella, not accepting the concept that i am just too broken to be of service...
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| You owe me a penny... |
[14 Sep 2004|05:42pm] |
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mood |
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 apathetic |
] |
...and where i used to find pretty phrases, all my words are stale and watch me feebly out between bloodshot vowels, begging not to be spent wastefully on my foolish tongue...the only thing i've felt all day is my stomach turn- don't think i didn't watch every single of her chipper days scroll before me, and gag, because you could not have sunk any lower. i will match every stupid vice with a slice of my own and laugh insanely as i bleed on her backpack...i am so emotionless today, smoking cigarettes and scribbling like i could grasp at any reality anyways as i watch everyone stare, like i'm a mildly interesting slug. you know what? go ahead and fuck around cause i didn't like your face's magazine mosaic look in the first place and i won't regret feeling it under my heel...
all day i've had goosebumps.
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| My tongue feels lighter now... |
[09 Sep 2004|11:38am] |
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mood |
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 cynical |
] |
"i think from the inside that night, you discovered each dusty skeleton and dragged it merrily to my attention without discretion, just for sheer wonder. i suppose i bore a stigma then, being afraid and all, and i knew that the casual boundary between us was broken. i hated being vulnerable and i can still see every last inch of that minute, where your face was spattered with an emotion that i couldn't recognize. there was never any point in wishing for what i didn't have- not even a temper tantrum could have broken your solidity. i made some kind of reference to the fact that the night never fell slowly anymore, just came crashing down around us, and you watched my mouth move dumbly, waiting for some kind of revelry. i was bound by that single second, staring out onto the wet, dark, grass and knowing that even i couldn't run without slipping. i guess it was the reality of my tear stains upstairs on your pillowcase that handed you that neatly wrapped expression to put on your face and make me believe that maybe you actually were giving something too. or maybe it was just that i was too sore to stay awake, and whether your body was next to mine or not, i know i fell asleep alone that night."
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| Back to the original pool water... |
[07 Sep 2004|12:13pm] |
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mood |
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 busy |
] |
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music |
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"Rainsong" |
] |
last night i dreamed of a tiny knife aimed for old friends' hearts...it figures. i'm like a fucking hurricane, scattering organized sections and leaving everyone flustered. i wish i could get a grip...
you sometimes forget that i give you all i have and even things i don't.
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| Tears bit at the reins and you fought back with your own melancholy... |
[05 Sep 2004|06:27pm] |
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mood |
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stressed |
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i woke up in a cloud, realizing that my happiness was in that bed and that the dog's toenails clicking on the wood floors was the soundtrack to that moment.
i found a gorgeous collection of intricate pieces that had to have been built, because nature is rarely so perfect.
"Emotions break like glass when memories brush back."
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| On learning how to end suffocation... |
[04 Sep 2004|03:27am] |
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mood |
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 groggy |
] |
No one can deny the dark-centered sunflower's ability to take your breath away.
"oh i know the words, but i can't really speak them to you..."
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| This morning... |
[26 Aug 2004|11:53am] |
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mood |
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 confused |
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I'm back to where my hands look like pale spiders, busy and unknown to me, as I stare nervously at rotting nothingness. I'm leaving again soon, going to the place where everyone looks like me and even I get confused as to which head I'm in. I'm sure I could stay here forever, lost in a cloud of smoke and the anticipation of a phone call, but I don't think I'm welcome anymore...
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| I'm addicted to Channel 8. |
[19 Aug 2004|03:40am] |
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mood |
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optimistic |
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music |
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Clasicos de Cristina |
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It's getting late, and the expensive informercials are now only mildly entertaining. I have some kind of cheerful pride in being the only one awake, or maybe it's because my heart found intense affection today. The sheets are calling with a fiery smile all their own and I am tending to agree- my bated breath says tomorrow will be good...
kiss me won't you kiss me now and sleep i would inside your mouth...
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| I am an open book of tragedy, passing out the pencils, and pointing out the lines... |
[17 Aug 2004|05:34pm] |
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mood |
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confused |
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music |
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Watching "Mi Gorda Bella" |
] |
"Si no pudimos ser unanimes moviendo tanto nuestras vidas, tal vez no hacer nada una vez, tal vez un gran silencio pueda interrumpir esta tristeza..."
The coins in my mouth are so heavy that flowers flatten themselves before my foot falls...I've become a robot of the nation, a slave to money, and a symbol of dismal power. I guess we are all a little curious to die in the apocalypse...
"this is the moment, that you know that you told her that you loved her but you don't. you touch her skin, and then you think, that she is beautiful but she don't mean a thing to me...then tiny vessels oozed into your neck and formed the bruises that you said you didn't want to fade but they did and so did i that day..."
you have no idea.
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| The zipper to my mind is stuck... |
[13 Aug 2004|01:41pm] |
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mood |
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 quixotic |
] |
After copious amounts of stupidity were poured into my brain, I surprisingly still found absolution at the bottom of my cigarette pack, right where you put it. And holy shit, the night never looked so foggy...
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| Patterns of dizziness lost and found... |
[11 Aug 2004|04:03pm] |
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mood |
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numb |
] |
Clearcut motives fell through the floor and left me in the rain to fuck a shotgun and wonder what you're thinking. I'm just walking around, moving like the pin on a grenade and trying to find the answer hidden in your fingers. It's alright, I'm merely avoiding a collapse.
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