inside my brain

the prettiest book on my shelf

2010-10-24T10:46:00.000-07:00

the mind, the likes of the wind
crossing the river back and forth
searching the tumultuous sea, for answers
who you are as a collective
doesn't mean you'll be able to influence the group as an individual.
it just means you have control of the mind
bullets in my ears are a reality
they have become my OM
my universe
we no longer have steady hands or steady minds
just the sounds of our OM, blasting through the barrel
making the other feel unwanted

but that's not what it's all about.

The Story of the Hanged Man

2010-10-05T08:38:00.000-07:00

--there is a chance he's not at fault. He's been strung up justly, slighted.
However, even in that he's poised in perfection and with his halo still glowing
He'd hold his head up high if he weren't inverted.
No one bothered to ask him when the mob banged on door
and the one who strung him up...
the who strung him up was none other than his best friend.
There was a moment, a glimpse where their hearts were filled with guilt
but upon justification upon justification they found themselves secure in their decisions
holding peace, still, no one asked him
still no one finds fault in themselves
and unfortunately, the Good Shepherd passing by, was too late
and he hugged the poor hanged man.
and unfortunately, the Good Shepherd loves the mob too

The Word is Shampoo

2010-09-30T18:24:00.000-07:00

I bought some new shampoo the other day. I was all out of suave and I bought some nexxus. But what I really want to talk about is my pomade. It smells like a German spice or at least a fable. I should be writing this but instead I’m typing. Which saddens me kind of like the fables do. Because a fable is just a morale dressed up with symbols and I hate those squiggly lines. They make no sense in the updated versions of our reality. If technology evolves so quickly why cant fables adapt just the same.

I feel completely compelled to say I love you or 143 according to Mister Rogers. (the first capital letters I’ve used yet that aren’t on auto correct). If you smelled nice what would you smell of? What kind of smile would you inhale one moment at a time? I like to cuddle the remote and the economy on Tuesdays. But never on a Sunday because that would be blasphemy.

Can we hold hands? Or should you just watch me hold my own? Because I can and I will. And catastrophe doesn’t begin to cover it, nor high maintenance, nor road killin’-foot stompin-cow tippin’- gun toting- hickabilly-ing. So why try? Right? Why don’t you just leave and go wax your saddle. I’d go but I’m morally obligated to stay and there’s nothing more important than your ....fables. But I guess for you, it’s all about the saddle and how comfortable you feel in it all. Which might explain how you operate but not excuse it. That would take a miracle.

I should always write when I write and never have the television on. screw the remote. i want cartwheels and hot octobers and new fanged feeling features behind my ears. whatever that means... I need a stressed out roommate, a cookie baker, and nasal singer. All with yuppie boyfriends. whom I mock endlessly.

I will defy all conventional wisdom about this institution. and mock it endlessly. suck it.

emotional foreclosure

2010-09-06T10:50:00.000-07:00

The Radioheaded step-child sits in a room
pinked and purpled in dispare. No one knew but her owners, who incidentally had all their shots and none of hers. Nevertheless,
she could have been the best in show expect for the pinked and purpled incident.
that back of new car smell she recounted without giving away her position. It had been a checkmate without the queen's consent.
His girl, she'd be wondering if he'd been good at work but he hadn't and the Radioheaded step-child was drumming
no, no, and NO in her heart and on her lips.

It had been a night of the elixors, the absinthe (and we all know that only crazies drink the green potion) VanGogh did and he turned out alrightright?

Her life burned like brick. Not at all but all the evidence of fire written on every line of her body. Her pinked and purpled body.

hemorrage

2010-08-28T13:42:00.000-07:00

where? why? how?
yes? no. I'm not.
and thanks for not asking

unsafety, mistrusting
frustrating abandonment
wrong person, wrong time
playful deviated hope under the guise of
hope

I wish I did I
wish I were back a hundred days ago
safely behind a question.

sick jokes, lab rat in cage
God muses and I run in circles
looking for the answer to the puzzle,
the escape in the riddle
experiment. updated
unreality like Job.
I feel like Job.
ashes to ashes heaped
head to head.

For AWH

2010-08-25T10:34:00.000-07:00

I blame this on how the wind blows.
I blame it on how time works and passes; the unstoppable passage of time.
I blame it on misfortune. Misconnected, complicated, crisscrossed wires.
I blame the nails in our coffins (although I shouldn't).
I blame your unhappiness and the fact that no one old enough to ride the ride alone can make you happy.
I blame the fact that you won't leave. Make no mistake, don't leave for me, I wouldn't want that anyway. Leave because you aren't in love. Leave or tell all the things I had the pleasure of hearing. I bet it would help.

I wish I could help. I wish you were mine and I yours. all ours. But since this is an impossible, sadistic riddle I will reread the saccharine moments.

The Difference Between Memory and Imagination; written for Ali Liebegott

2009-02-18T22:50:00.001-08:00

Listen to people-- eaves drop

well I stole all your words

they were like Diamonds falling from you mouth

Poetry feeds fiction Asparagus

____-to feed its memory

____-to feed its architexture

____-to exercise the muscle that lets you smell

that new book smell or a freshly Sharpened pencil... cadence.

The cadence of your words broken to syllables broken

to sounds broken to letters broken

to motion broken,

We are all broken and if anyone asks your story's Fiction

because a metaphor is just a lie connected at odd angles;

use metaphor when:

you need your Freedom-- even when it's a lie about Your villan's favorite ice cream

lie because it's no one's Business what you write

or how you write

____or when

____or where you Write your own story.

It's hard to write a story, even a bad one

but we aren't defined by our mistakes

so we wont reread quite yet

Reciprocation

2008-11-15T21:18:00.001-08:00

They both want this otherwise they wouldn't be there. They aren't having sex so it's not really cheating he says. They're just fooling around, usually in the afternoon for no more than thirty minutes... standing up. She likes it when he smiles. Shes didn't know anyone could see her like that. He had to push her limits to get to her. That's because he's a man; he has biceps. He likes it when she says yes and whispers in his ear while he reads her body with his hands, like braille for the entire hand not just the finger tips. Palms smoothing over curves trying to decode something, anything. Her heart beats so fast it ceases to beat altogether. He hates that because it takes him further from her secrets. He was hoping to read the Morris Code of her heart. But there are no heart throbs for him to count.

She doesn't mind that he is using her because she's using him just as much. They both want more but not from each other. Crisp fall midnights, she spends time thinking about more. What could be more fulfilling? she knows him intimately... that just means she's seen him naked. At first it made her nervous, but they know each other's curves better after the third and fourth time. This hasn't been her choice since... since. more, more, more-- one more hit, one more kiss, one more. She wonders if it's twilight yet.

Denial

2008-11-15T20:53:00.000-08:00

We've created our own secret culture

in the month of october, on the roof

with our hands and our mouths

did she find out?

--------------

In the month of october, on the roof

i got a phone call

did she find out? I asked

meet me in my room in twenty

----------------

I got a phone call

is that all?

meet me in my room in twenty to find out

that isn't all

----------------

It that all?

we are here again and again

that wasn't all

can I see you tonight?

---------------

He is here again and again

his arms hold my arms

can we see each other tonight?

we have to be good, remember?

----------------

His arms hold my arms

come down here

we've been good

he came down after twenty minutes of pushing and pulling

---------------

Come down here

where it's warm

he came after twenty minutes of pushing and pulling

again, again, again

---------------

Where it's warm

our hands and mouths

again, again, again

we create our own culture

cryptic? maybe...

2008-07-17T12:36:00.000-07:00

she always sat at Strada pretending to read a book
she always sat at Strada really only watching people
she always put down her book and wrote instead--
while she sat at Strada, occasionally looking up
to see who was passing by...

was it him? the one who'd left her, bitter passing by
or was it him? passing by the synical one with too much time to think about her
___So he overworked to keep her mysterious in his mind
__he overworked so he wouldn't over analyze her graceful step
___________________jagged mouth
_________and bitterness towards the man passing by
,who she thought she loved
but found herself empty handed at the end of...
her book
she hadn't really been reading in the first place--
she really had been writing one

maybe he'd pass by, actually
maybe he'd pass by, not just in her mind
maybe he'd really love her--actually not just in her mind

it is, isn't it?

2008-07-17T12:13:00.000-07:00

looking at a picture of yourself is an out of body experience
was that me? was I really there? am I really here?
We all look happy, but were we?
Is it really over and over and over
...and over?
one two three,
wishing to be inside the frame, behind the smiles
wishing to be moonlit
wanting to sense what everyone perceives
--through the hundred weight semi gloss
seeing who used to adore me, who now abhors me
with no grievence or forethought that my core is cracking
in one two three time
over and over and over
again we look through the memories of just last thursday
or when was it in space and time?
I think frustrated and tense in
this arrangement of words, sounds, shapes
it isnt worth even thinking of...

Untitled at the moment

2008-06-28T13:02:00.000-07:00

What's darker than black?
the space between lifeand death--
where nothing exists and time is extinct
black isn't a colour or a shade, it is.
only perpetuating you through continuums
or holes
no sovereignty or damned
just lonliness and the forgotten who,
feeling very young but unspeakably aged
have lost track of the un-time they've spent
in darkness (or the space
betweenlife and death)
chosing not to chose or
even being apathetic
to the mere thought of an after-life
because the first one was quite enough!

It is absurd to divide people into good and bad. People are either charming or tedious... and he is charming.

2008-05-23T10:59:00.000-07:00

some Arcadia here on earth
surrounded by pavement and cracks
that the roots intruded upon
he is a modern Wilde
with what wit the oak branches above court can not even mimic
lacking only romance

prayers of the song bird outside the third floor window
back and forth the hollow wind glittering in the sun
those eyes, dark
such strange dialogue attracted
but deep silence holds us in either hand
more than moonlit water in the night

time and beauty away
it is only a saccharine persuasion
speaking only when necessary
it is almost too difficult to be in the same room
when the daisies won't grow

the land was like a dream
like some Arcadia, our Arcadia
in this disarrayed glory shifty light in salty rooms
we have waxed and waned
and our Arcadia's away

I wish I could talk to you

2008-05-23T09:42:00.000-07:00

we're not going to talk about that
it, I mean
that is was
well it wasn't
what it was is that it means
something
it
that
what?

is this it? or is this that?
could it be this without question
but she is all that
anyone can see it
I guess that is--
why you want all that
because I am not it or that
I'm.

That Weekend at Beale

2008-04-29T10:21:00.000-07:00

is it worth the fragments of time
"attention" he said "silence" he said "no swearing"
if I can't stop for Jesus, I wont for you

animated moxie motivation deviation from reality
sarcasm walks me through this lane
this isn't reality, it's not even pseudo

are you in an abusive relationship? she asked concerned
yes.
but there is a contract that binds.
I'll leave someday.
I can't now, he pays me to stay.
I need the money.

equality is the fantasy I sleep with every night
it's a soft spoken lover, smooth and coherent lover
only asks for attention when given attention

he was blatant and said he wouldn't change
"that's the way it is" "get used to it"
but my skin is polka dotted and peppered with bruises
from failure

Saving Face

2008-04-06T12:17:00.000-07:00

pleasure past, anguish past
is it life or is it death?
the markets closed to disillusionment anymore
broken hearted sucking the remaining juice from the sacrificed face
but scars are just bridges to the heart
that pumps without warning, without hesitation
blind walking blind talking blind
only harmonic orchestral stringed sound wirey from throb to throb
closing the gap, making new pathways that fire past nuerons
chemically uncharged cross threaded
restringed and tuned in perfection

Flying V

2008-02-07T20:39:00.000-08:00

the birds are back in the trees again
there is an air
their air
breatheable able
it is isn't it?
today I mean...
it's nice.

he wants to know who I bet on no.
surprise to anyone?
the gauntlet didn't go as planned
and we are where we were before
...for what it's worth

she thought you would
and would not everyday differently
she never really settled it beyond her own strands of pearls
that's how classy she can be

wa hen it cay me to tak ing (er) talk ing
tax her syn all the ways ways in was
nervously looking around scrownge
for just the right words
that I thought you'd be interested in

but one can never tell where the flight pattern really is
it's always a guess at best--
because of the change we've all had to make
before we have to move further north
when the sun finally turns its
back back
to the side it really ought to be on

This is what I am afraid of...

2007-12-24T21:29:00.000-08:00

song of my song
moon of my moon
sing song of moons
or that time you made cookies
and were almost too.... whatever the cliche adjective I used with you last time

she hates him so much these days
she'd prefer to be bitter in this air
she cringes at the name
even though my name is of his name

his life revolves around
around
the attainable dream
living it alone, at opposites
only slightly warmer
for whatever warmth is worth, he'd pay it

I'm lying here
listening to my favorite singer of my favorite album
waiting unknown
what all it is or could be
of time-- of time
waiting
well spent or wasted
the only words I can hear are the words in my ears
the song of the moon I see when I hear your voice's silhouette in my head
and God saying "wait, it will be worth something, even for you and nothing like them

recieve this
and it would be better than ever imagined or planned
it's better out there. of there
know there. know him and know me
of like mind of time
waiting and recieveing"

Clouds

2007-12-18T16:09:00.000-08:00

They are so light you can't even hold them in the palm of your hand. If I could reach out this window, I might try anyways. They mimic how it feels these days at the thought of exchanging mine for yours. You can tell by my hand writing, it's sloppier because I don't care to pay any attention anymore to logistics or art, which is odd because I always had time for art and the occasional salsa dance... but since you wont dance, I'll hold out. And as far as the art-- we'll make our own. Let it be what it is. with no help from anyone else because it's not theirs to have. All that is left is: you, me, God, and art.

California Dreaming

2007-12-11T20:04:00.000-08:00

what did I do wrong?
perhaps I'm not like her
only to be looked down upon for not being cute anymore
because I used to be
maybe a little less luster now
jaded
talk much
drink much
vulgar, unmotivated, uneducated
much
lacking diction for just how I feel
or impetus action to show and tell what it is I see in him
then I look up to think that's all wrong
it's too perfect a scenario
awkward sensibilities with a slight flare for drama
only when stress keeps me awake at night
when I forget just how to deal a good hand
the sheets are stretched too thin
and home threatens a tightening grip
and and and
I care more than you think
I will show you who I am by what I do--
for you...
even the precious moments talking about
you and she he
my your and me
his own and
to you or me
her isn't is
or could be
time well wasted gambling on each other's emotion
because we all are awkward inside
some are just more honest about it
few have mastered it and put the turtle back in its cage
and the rest are just trying to figure it as they go along
intense infuriated
and or insensitive
maybe just honest
it's okay to be me
maybe some day understanding
the line I walk upon because it's not yours
yours may seem better, smarter, sweeter
though there is no right or left answer
for
yes no is
time for your
my his
answers to
what for I can't
answer time
or
scared

Azimuth

2007-12-01T19:30:00.000-08:00

it wouldn't be an inconvenience
the thought might cross
even if it was midnight and the power was out around
the atmosphere
could just be enough to speak subtleties
and maybe for an instant of understanding
finally posture straightens the spine and leans in
for the moment to catch fire, illuminate
unexpedited_______ elongated in time
rearranging the darkness behind eyelids
and insist feeling
just before leaving (for frosted impressions)
but nothing as ostentatious could manifest
in speech quickly enough
before the end to spark the first instant
only vague words spoken
of sugar cookies that are legit
and the death of a dare devil

Gamelan Concert

2007-11-19T20:49:00.000-08:00

the old sage sits in the front of the canary boxes
made inspiring from Java
stained with gold
with the drums he gentle taps the skin stretched
as the gong player drags his keys across the dangling silver
the mad hatter hums and tinkers over her boxes with mallets
they start the waltz first quick, then slow
rhythmic dancing hovers over in red
and one solid movement together cymbals
the end of a phrase
the sage moves to his softer, raspier heart shaped violin
like an apple cut in half without crisp sound
melodious movement through his fingers tips up and down
the wooden neck crossbow with no strings
to project something only audible to animals--
and Lou Harrison
who the sage says is no longer with us

transparency now

2007-11-18T14:50:00.000-08:00

you made bat shaped sugar cookies
for an entire week of digesting what it could have meant...
instead I'll remember
Gaëtan always said Bonjourné in the morning
and it was perfectly clear how he felt about Pauline
with his kisses on each of her cheeks
always in a slightly more romantic society
which still amuses me today
et... MOZA!
what it could be is-- delicious as the damned sugar cookie
or a french morning in Falstaff --
sipping laughter
because nobody knows what they want
except for the desire to figure it out
in some French pastry town on the edge of the château

"Sweet Loving:" An ode to cliche poets -By Lauren Wilder and Elizabeth Trobaugh

2007-11-07T16:36:00.000-08:00

You walk upon the shifting sands of my soul
Hand and hand
As the sun sets ______ Beautifully.
And it begins to rain and we embrace;
Like a flock of pure doves... Dancing upon the breeze in the pale moon light
Which reminds me,
Of your glowing skin and your cherry lips
Of love.
A sip of a refreshing pina colada,
Should never amount to the refreshing flavor of your--
Sweet Loving

Having a Coke with You

2007-10-22T08:13:00.000-07:00

is even more fun than going to San Sebastian, Irun, Hendaye,
______Biarritz, Bayonne
or being sick to my stomach on the Travesera de Garcia in
______Barcelona
partly because in your orange shirt you look like a better
______happier St. Sebastian
partly because of my love for you, partly because of your love
______for yoghurt
partly because of the fluorescent orange tulips around the
______birches
partly because of the secrecy our smiles take on before people
______and statuary
it is hard to believe when I'm with you that there can be
______anything as still
as solemn as unpleasantly definitive as statuary when right in
______front of it
in the warm New York 4 o'clock light we are drifting back, and
______forth
between each other like a tree breathing through its
______spectacles
and the portrait show seems to have no faces in it at all, just
______paint
you suddenly wonder why in the world anyone ever did them.
_______________________________________I look
at you and I would rather look at you than all the portraits in the
______world
except maybe for the Polish Rider occasionally and anyway it's
______in the Frick
which thank heavens you haven't gone to yet so we can go
______together the first time
and the fact that you move so beautifully more or less takes
______care of futurism
just as at home I never think of the Nude Descencing a Staircase or
at a rehearsal a single drawing of Leonardo of Michelangelo
______that used to wow me
and what good does all the research of the Impressionists do
______them
when they never got the right person to stand near the tree
______when the sun sank
or for that matter Marino Marini when he didn't pick the rider
______as carefully
as the horse
___________it seems they were all cheated of some
marvellous experience
which is not going to go wasted on me which is why I'm
______telling you about it

...everything else under the sun

2007-10-13T09:09:00.000-07:00

with a face that continually changes
pushing charcoal across the pages
smudgy black marks
a leaf can't photosynthesize under green light rays
only blue or red
if you remove the lens' then it (whatever it is) will live
for booking a flight to Italy
and the piano's parchment keys
leathery sound from years of untuning
but I can't complain about it
even though the eyes in the pictures, they follow me down the hall
my only weakness is I'm lazy in it
but this time the un-sound of no talking is filling the ears of lovers
smoke signal watchers
and free spirits
break light bulbs because overexposure bursts filaments
in an instant of blinding light
we look up to find we are all at the bottom of our deep water
waiting to come out on the other side
in the other realm
it is
too late or too soon (depending on which side of the ocean you are seeing)
to act on such a feeling we both felt or still feel
but we could talk about everything else in the world
except it.

breaking cell walls

2007-09-07T15:45:00.000-07:00

Cell membranes are made up of phospholipids. phospholipids have hydrophilic heads and hydrophobic tails that fit together perfectly. the membranes are bi-layered with the heads pointing outwards and all the tails inward, because of their fear of water. there being water on the outside of the cell and the inside of the cell, the tails stay in the middle of the heads as protection.
There is no way for anything to get through the phospholipids as a defense mechanism for the cell against viruses. there are two ways to get through: protein canals, which are choosey about what gets in. the other way is through Endocytosis where the membrane waits for the entering entity to approach-- then envelops it and pulls the entity inside the cell. this is a difficult process therefore, that entity must be important to be inducted in the first place. If the things in the cell aren't good for the cell the phospholipids do a reverse endocytosis called exocytosis and fuses the negitive organism and pushes it back out of the cell.

College Students or a clock depending on how you read it

2007-08-30T12:52:00.000-07:00

round________ circular
no beginning, or end
a safe keeper of something only important these days
black hash marks tick by measuring...
turning around and around never stopping-- even for sleep

hands slap each other
as they pass by each other
and congratulate each other
on making it through another day
without even realizing if the sun came up, or down
only that the hands have lapped twelve twice
and they start all over again
as if they haven't even finished at all

a world set in black and white
because there is no evolution only time.

Exhibition inside the TATE

2007-08-13T06:33:00.000-07:00

I am not Elizabeth, I'm only a picture of Elizabeth or what Elizabeth should be. no one here would know what I was, only what I am or a foresight of what I could be become. To think of laughter before pain or insanity due to sensory overload, a bit surreal. Blocked in on all sides, maybe... I think it's graves; subconcious realization of past images viewed as children overhung in a deep wound in the earth piling higher and higher until the subconcious overflows and brushstrokes mimics my hidden feelings-- true colours shaped by lonely moments inbetween suicide attempts and haircuts.

30 years of the same game and still going strong

2007-08-13T06:27:00.001-07:00

what is worth
when worth isn't worth it anymore
and the structure
becomes more important than abstract
it's like running ________________ running
full speed away
from the dead tree you are continuely tied to
and in one defining instant
you are choked back
and your feet fly out from under you

all it is to work for is unattainable
while bitterness roots itself
because of the value
placed on artificial colouring
while time is seemingly impossible
but attained for any resolution to cross oceans
and right now that is what is seperating you and me
and you're making room for more water

so what is life
when it takes so much to be alive
________________to inhabit
________________to breathe
grapeling and grasping for something
I'm not even sure is worth saving.
I was just an accident anyways.

and it was all just a dream....

2007-08-13T06:23:00.000-07:00

a new ship has sailed and sunk
all on its very own
with nothing to blame the voyage on
except the weather and a young crew who didn't know
they were driving straight into the eye
they just wanted to be SEEN!
____________ to be HEARD!
but there was no one there to listen
and their own sight blinded them
straight into the oblivion they face
at the lowest of the lows
and the highest of the highs
we've never reached because we never really set sail.

Beast and the Beast

2007-08-07T00:24:00.000-07:00

all my unnatural inconsistencies
poured out in a moment of awkward truth
he says prayer will help
with an eye locked glimmer from cross the room
(he is)
everything I hated at the beginning of this sojourney
(he too)
is not anything like southern cooking
but come to find out
we are all scarred up with no explanation of how we got there
today is a new day
no one seems to remember that the stars are shining
(even when the sun is out)
and they illuminate planets all of their own
unseen, unnoticed, forgotten about
these are familiar places to me
but for now I will pretend like yesterday didn't happen
that I'm still prosaic
he's still an asshole
and there's nothing to look forward to
for either of us

to the best hands my hands ever met

2007-06-27T15:55:00.000-07:00

There are old hands, new hands, happy and sad hands. there are Picasso hands and Michelangelo hands. hands with long thin fine fingers and hands with stubby rough blisterous fingers. there are hands that twirl pencils when the artists is uninspired and hands that drum on wood table tops when the poet has writer's bloc and there are hands that clasp lover's face in palm right before lovers kiss. there are hands that give and hands that take. there are rich hands with cracks and callouses that show they have been well loved and there are well preserved hands with diamond studs embedded just above the knuckles. there are hands that talk a mile a minute when the voice doesn't suffice and hands that sit quietly and hold each other in quiet laps, during quiet hours, in quiet places. there are hands that stand and hands that stay up high and wave wildly in the dull moon shine. and then, and then there are your hands and your hands make my heart smile every time your hands touch my hands. it is a rare occasion because your hands waved goodbye some time ago.

you, me, and a bottle of rum...

2007-06-15T08:08:00.000-07:00

laying here on the eleven barely breathing thinking of what I couldn't have done...
the waves were too big for me to cut through, so I let her drown. I said 'I'm sorry I just don't have it in me to fight this anymore' she screamed in terror as the last swell swallowed her whole ten feet from me and I turned myself around as it began to rain. a quarter mile of water in front of me I started the swim back towards shore. it was a long paddle back. I was met there by a man in a black suit and black tie, a black hat to accompany his black eyes. he handed me a death deed and said 'sorry there was nothing they could do.' I took a look at the name on the top line and I shouldn't have been surprised it was mine. I looked out towards the horizon, watching as the last swell progressed toward me, I found I had joined the ranks of those who are lost at sea.

A1A

2007-06-14T18:38:00.000-07:00

sea salt in my hair, in the air
and sea salt scrapes off my skin
the surf is up and the surfer is out
which provides for some interim entertainment

holding a rusty old pocket watch_________ counting the seconds
counting the rusty seconds till the wind is in my favour again
and it drifts me back to the Pacific side
like drift wood bark knotted and splintered
rolling up the beach propelled by the tide
until I find a white strech of sand
to lay out on and let the sun desiccate
sea salt under my nails
sea salt in my hair
and the rest of the sea salt in this spirit

Sea Goddess

2007-06-13T16:01:00.000-07:00

I am a bitter sage
but still holding some sugar in the palms of my hands
to give to you
to inhale and meditate
think of the days with heavy air
that no one can find escape from...
there's nothing to do now
but lay on our atlantic sides
and swell up, swell down
come in, come out
with the tides all day long.
we roll back onto shore to dry out our saccharine permeated skins
and wait for the sun to go down
so we can finally exhale
and look for more sugarcane tomorrow
to sweeten our dispositions again
because we've both been in a bad mood
since the wind rolled the tide back out.

home

2007-06-10T18:57:00.000-07:00

i'm far away and i'm feeling alone. this house is haunted and all i have is my phone and some cliche rhyme. i was asked once if spokane even felt like home to me anymore; it's more home than this is. it's strange to say i miss it or even want it back? i could roll in and out with the tide all day long, it's all this bullshit i could do without. i think i am going to send my strongest advocate after him and she will eat him for breakfast, lunch, AND dinner. i need an entourage of mobsters to keep me from getting pushed around. someone... anyone. i think i'm coming home early.

Is love a fancy or feeling?

2007-06-08T18:19:00.000-07:00

No. It is immortal as immaculate Truth.
Or perhaps it materializes in angsty young adults
who perhaps are a bit less logical then they perviously thought
which then would make love flawed in human terms rather than
as perfect as the Truth.
which leads me to my next thought:
is the divine substance perfect? chaotic? prosaic? archaic?
or is the divine substance just something we make up to have meaning in this world and some falsified hope that things will be better in the afterlife as an escape to this one?
O, Siddhartha The Buddah you have ruined me and my compliance to believe in something I'm not sure is even there... like immaculate Truth or love or angsty young adults.

YOU!

2007-06-06T20:50:00.000-07:00

και λεγουσιν ηυλησαμεν υμιν και ουκ ωρχησασθε εθρηνησαμεν υμιν και ουκ εκοψασθε
And saying "We have piped unto you
and ye have not danced
we have mourned unto you
and ye have not lamented."

Pipe and lighter can hash this one out

2007-06-04T10:34:00.001-07:00

A day at the elevens might sooth my mood of inconsistencies; the hop scotch jump in between reality and something I used to believe in. the indifference to love and the frustration that comes in afterward. yes, indifference, I am told, is the worst kind of feeling because it's not really a feeling at all. Is it wrong that since reading my western book of religious survey I am indifferent to all of them? and that anything I believed in before so strongly... wait no... so emotionally, is just a fleeting memory and it seems to be arbitrary bullshit? is it wrong that I am with the caste and I think you should choose your own path and it shouldn't be decided by anyone but you? oh dere, I guess that makes me biased. No longer indifferent. I guess you ought to know I'm not unbiased about you either. I've thought this way for a while just never had to the energy to pursue the notion of my own inconsistent indifference.

Bluest of Blues

2007-05-28T19:56:00.000-07:00

the bluest of blue
truest of true blue friends
comes and goes with the wind

good and goodbye
to the bluest of blue, eyes...
to the truest of true friends
tonight my heart is full of a sad song because it's been years

Life is how it is, not how it was
and it's nothing but a goddamn shame
for those of us who come and go with the wind

Midnight Prose

2007-05-22T11:19:00.000-07:00

In the dramatic insecurities you say is the experience that flavors your life you are only medicated, dedicated to confusion, and when all you want is the answers you refuse to search for, you find yourself in a perpetual state of frustration. Pleasure vs. Pain hailed as the life lesson that taught you everything you know. But your life style will soon cease to be the ideal product you wanted to produce because after a while it loses romance and you wake up an old crippled soul trying to relive the past you are so desperately running from in the present.
Paint your fence black and call it a hate crime. Victimize yourself and cry rape. Educate yourself then play dumb for the audience you are eagerly trying to entertain by pretending it's all okay and everyone isn't soul searching for some arbitrary truth that's all relative bullshit anyways.

Van Gogh's Field with Crows

2007-04-24T21:02:00.000-07:00

Black birds.
bend and break

and die again

flying through the heavy sky
bend and break
and fire again

over the wheat field
they hover dive and peck
and fly again

the last time he painted
and it was the symbol of, blackbirds ...
the foreshadow of his suicide
he bent broke dove
and died again

dialectal differences of opinion

2007-04-10T23:08:00.000-07:00

I miss you.
I miss you like drought misses rain
_______ like track misses the train
I miss you one hundred ways different
each time new and more painful with resentment
I've peopled and persuaded
nothing as good as thee has dared cross my path
language old and useless in these cases
what words will suffice?
What language does justice just to convey this I feel?
I will speak to you any way you would like
I know so many ways to communicate
and some how I find I am running out of things to speak
so tell me what to say
________________or what you need to hear
___________________________I am here________ surrender,
______________________________ here is my olive branch.

Olney 232

2007-04-05T12:52:00.000-07:00

There's no ventilation systems in this building
laying here barely breathing _____ suffocating
Dying inside, Dying outside
anyway you look at it...
you're still dead.

There's no ventilation sytems in this building
only doors and windows
with the smell of incest
sitting right next to her
I've never felt further away
Dying faster, Dying harder

Dying slower, Dying further

anyway you look at it...

you're still dead.

There's no ventilation systems
only escape routes
before you ____ suffocate

hey YOU!

2007-03-23T09:30:00.000-07:00

Thank you.

One Headlight

2007-03-06T20:04:00.000-08:00

The art of losing isn’t hard to master
(another reason I don’t keep a gun in the house)
outlasting what must have felt
like one in danger; cautious
And thus among them left alone
there are many that I miss
I lie upon my heart. My eyes like hands
My soul has grown deep like the rivers.
Do I terrify?

Sad is a man who is asked for a story
it is a shipwreck in a void, with a surrounding of tears
until it sinks, in God’s own ways
but if it had to perish twice
to cease upon the midnight with no pain
Some unknown spirit to mine in clasp and kiss
we never said farewell, nor even looked
The wine of passion is a bitter cup

Then a mile of warm sea-scented beach
The ship is anchor'd safe and sound, its voyage closed and done,
Fear no harm, and fear no danger
The lords of life, the lords of life
Come from the mystic ocean
and water’d heaven with their tears
Blown by their passions here and there.
the world is too much with us: late and soon.

When on the sandy shore did I sit
My heart within me like a stone
Love itself shall slumber on
(The mystery which binds me still)
It matters not how smooth the breeze
With that clear dusk of heaven that brings the thickest stars
And men forgot their passions in the dread
Dying. Blind with unrest I grow aware:
subtlety to this end
I’m losing all that I believed in

Repitition

2007-03-03T01:53:00.000-08:00

Love I did not not know.
Cities that were never seen
until now, when my plane lands and intervenes
in a new beginning, a chapters end, no one knows me
or has to know what I've had to see.

Van Gogh and I have met face to face
on several occasions...
Once in the city of romance in this last summers sights
and again I've seen him close to
where the stars hang in his starry nights.

I might be back, just to see, what has become
of the man who never made it passed his front door.
Show him pictures of what he missed...
while he sat and wondered what life was worth living for.

Kansas to Washington Stories of Old

2007-02-27T21:59:00.000-08:00

the last of the old crop is gone
the last of old timers that brought
my grandmother and four other chillins out yonda
in the bed of a '23 Ford pickup
one yellow line at a time
straight to Orchard Praire to the one room school house
and then out'a fields where the hay is baled

they all went slowly and not without a fight
they reminisced on their death beds
of when The Gulch was a two laned, dirt road
and when water was carried straight from the well
and when Joyce raised all to high hell
to get out four days after graduation, a bride
and off to Orleans, France
just after the war dust had settled it's devastation
in that ramshackle farm house, housed now four generations
of women, the old hens, no longer brooding
for them hens done died out three weeks ago

Rainy Day

2007-02-22T23:12:00.000-08:00

Sunny with a high of 72
(minus the shine and 19 degrees)
is what we have today
It's down right gorgeous
(minus the beauty)

"Love is a beautiful day,
even when it rains."
But I still hate you...
even when it's sunny with a high of 72

the death of oppression

2007-02-20T20:41:00.000-08:00

it was a day for the record books
circa summer '63
it's hot and our skirts
are no longer longer than our knee

oppression of women dead for forty years.
our Grandmothers, Mothers, Aunts, and Sisters
fought a hard fight and sweat their tears

bare-breasted flower women
children of the field
what a glorious, lazy day
with only our skins as our shield

daisy chains and free love for all
Mother Nature hear our tribal call.

lost in the middle

2007-02-16T00:25:00.000-08:00

Ifindmyselfsomewhere
in between
65 miles per hour
and
a flip-turn
without even the slightest chance to bilateral breathe
if today was my last
day
I'd be sorry I spent it in Santana's class
and I wouldn't even be able to tell
you
just how much I think of, you
things have started to move a little too fast
if you don't watch out you might just end up happy
intheend.

I'm not your bitch

2007-02-10T19:48:00.000-08:00

I am not a 2nd class citizen.
I am a Poet
I am a Linguist
I am an Artist
and I am a Philosopher
I am a Swimmer
I am a Musician
I am a Jew, a Messianic Jew
and I am a Fucking Riot!

here it is.

2007-02-09T11:52:00.000-08:00

(He is)
Smooth as Southern cooking
but scarred up like the best of 'em
where are we if not in the
Middle
of one easy egg conversation.

Identification Cards

2007-02-04T21:45:00.000-08:00

a friend said the other day
"let's blow up the world together and save only those in whom our favour rests"
and then it was gone
maybe this is the beginning of the Apocalypse
and God is erasing all record of me
all that will be left of me will be stored
in the memories of those who did not ascend with me
In the memories of those who thought they knew me
but now they are unsure of my existence
was I really human?
did I really roam this earth along side of them?
or was I just a convincing shadow
inwhich they talked to all day long?

Things that make you slide off your chair

2007-01-31T09:43:00.000-08:00

I have been kissed on the neck by an Italian man.
It was never as affectionate
as the couple sitting across from me in this coffee shop.
He looks at her from the line
and he can hardly hold his place
before walking over to her
and gracing her neck with his lips.
Burying his face in her long brown hair
her head tilts slightly to the side
to elongate the feeling of his two lips on her neckline.
He moves slowly,
one kiss at a time,
to her mouth,
and returns again to the line.

exhale please

2007-01-22T21:35:00.000-08:00

by the sounds we make when we exhale
we can communicate a feeling and unveil
something we've always wanted to say
but couldnt muster up the courage until this day

Atlantic Gardens

2007-01-19T00:06:00.000-08:00

The pearl sits inside it's shell,
precious and innocent,
it does not know it is so.
When the harvester
or a wondering child comes, looking for it,
it recedes and lets the tide take it back
to avoid being exploited.
It will sit at the deep ocean floor for 1,000 years
before it attemps to come back to the top,
where a viewer will pass by the half broken shell
with only a casual glance and be uninspired.
Unless the viewer picks up the shell,
to discover the pearl,
the viewer will never know what it's worth.

SheGrin.

2007-01-16T23:10:00.000-08:00

OH! Impatience...
The stars do not allign and my heart breaks

sawdust and diamonds

2007-01-03T13:21:00.000-08:00

And a slow lip of fire moves across the prairie with precision
while somewhere with your scissors and glue you make your first incision,
and in the moment of unbearable vision, doubled over with the hunger of lions.
Hold me close cooed the dove who is now stuffed with saw dust and diamonds.
OH desire.

Spo-can I get a what, what!

2006-12-17T12:28:00.000-08:00

Spo-town
Spoakland
Spokandyland
Little Town of Methlahem
Spocomton
SpoVegas
Las Spangeles
I got nothin'
My friend lauren and I like making up puns...mostly about spokane. peace out.

i knew this guy.

2006-12-09T10:54:00.000-08:00

an excution by way of knife
he killed his father and his father's wife.
in a moment of a sheer psychoticness.
when he comes to and realizes what he's done
the repercussions will never turn around to run
they'll haunt him forever
the memory of his father and his father's wife
he executed them... by way of the knife.

Paris to Hollywood and back again just to make amends.

2006-12-01T01:09:00.000-08:00

Love I did not not know.

Cities that were never seen

until now, when my plane lands and intervenes

in a new beginning, a chapters end, no one knows me

or has to know what I've had to see.

Van Gogh and I have met for an overflow

on several occasions...

Once in the city of romance in this last summers sights

and again I've seen him close to

where the stars hang in his starry nights.

I might be back, just to see, what has become

of the man who never made it passed his front door.

Show him pictures of what he missed

while he sat and wondered what life was worth living for.

French, English, or Spanish... which would you prefer? I speak all three.

2006-11-24T22:38:00.000-08:00

L'édition Français:

Je déteste tes pensées.
Je pense que tu ne sais rien au sujet de la vie.
C'est un jeu des mots et je gagne
parce que
tu ne parles pas le français
Tu prends tes gros mots et leur mettre dans l'âne.

Question for one and everyone

2006-11-13T11:27:00.000-08:00

How do you define God?
How do you define hime in relationship to us as human beings?
If possible try to take away the religious aspect of faith.

I think I am forgetting about you.

2006-11-03T09:32:00.000-08:00

I find myself
somewhere
inbetween
loving you
and
hating you.

I wont settle but I wont be here forever

2006-10-30T21:41:00.000-08:00

I know how I can be
I know how I get sometimes
but hopefully you will get passed that
hopefully you will get passed my past
I'm sorry for impatience and the ocean
in which I swim.
and I know how I feel bad when
I think of what I did to you.
There is so much confusion
What I want is an explanation
I can't know if you don't tell me
This is real and I am not sorry for what is real
or what is meaningful. He wasn't meaningful to me
and I hated him for telling me everything the first night we met
and telling me nothing the morning he left.
He had no explanation. I don't want that for me, maybe shes wants that
but that's not me...
I need more...
I demand more...
stop waiting...
because I'm going to be gone and you will be too late
because I will love another

The death of lover

2006-10-30T10:59:00.000-08:00

Goodbye.

I'm buying a cello tomorrow

2006-10-29T20:06:00.000-08:00

I dont want to know things
I want to find the beauty in a daisy again
I want to see me at five
I want things to be simpler
Maybe then I wouldn't cry so much
or hate you so much
Because I wouldn't know what hate is
if things were simpler
Fuck, I wouldn't even know you
and we wouldn't even know this conversation.

Tienes Tremendo Culo.... yo tengo nada.

2006-10-29T18:37:00.000-08:00

Why does my head hurt?
why am I in a bad mood?
because you know as well as I do...
I'm sorry, I just can't
goodbye lover, I'm never coming back again.

Oakland Parks

2006-10-24T01:05:00.000-07:00

Why? Why God why?
Why was I so dicieved?
Why did you all mislead me
into the circle with no end,
that cornered me in your emotional traps
Where do I stand, Mr. Man?
Why did you not tell me? Would that have changed my opinion of you?
I don't know, I'm sorry.
I still love you.
You helped me, even when I thought my life could end
I am hurt and I don't know why,
I know you can see it in my eye
You know me like that, you know the pain that was caused (not by you)
I have to pause to reflect and make sure I am okay
You are still the same, I can't blame...
blame you, I can not blame you.

California Love (Just like 2 Pac)

2006-10-22T21:23:00.000-07:00

Me gustas tu
y tu sabes
Me gustas tu reir
Me gustas tu
y Te gusto mi

Blue like crayon and written on my wall...

2006-10-14T00:48:00.000-07:00

No creativity,
No sensitivity...
to light or sound.

I feel inability
and instability...
to get my point across.

Out of time,
Out of mind...
and things to say....
I wish you were here with me today
(because I thought about you the entire time).

The Wall of Tranquility

2006-10-08T19:50:00.000-07:00

The light illuminates the room
that once was my tomb
but now is an outlet for all the creative energy
Creativity for all in the form of a crayon
on my wall, try not fall when you stensal the stars at the top

Music is played, tears are shead, smiles are formed,
giggling 18 year olds are now jumping on the bed back to childhood.
No one thought I would, but yes, I did.
I coloured on my walls with colouring crayon.

negative things i need to put on paper before i beat the shit out of some putas

2006-10-06T17:21:00.000-07:00

I hate you. I want to love you,
but I don't. You piss me off so much.
You don't understand me, and you are inconsiderate
I tried really I did. but i want to go back
where no one cares. feelings don't get hurt so easily.
and people know me. back in my comfort zone.
where I remember how to laugh.

i hate you. you over sensitive bigot.
I am not your mom, I shouldn't have to tell you
so if I do, why yes, I will yell.
If you don't like then I guess you shouldn't be so rood.

Jaded

2006-10-01T18:04:00.000-07:00

What if I saw you today?
Would you even recognize me?
Would we know what to do…
I guess I would wait and see.

I miss you. I wish you knew.
I wish you knew me a little more.
Here I am thinking about you , am I wasting my time
Or should I just get over you?

third wheel

2006-09-22T00:32:00.000-07:00

I am dieing from the inside out
but then I stop and realized
I'm already dead.
I hate this.

Chingato madre

2006-09-13T21:18:00.000-07:00

I liked you; even now I may confess
some embers, their fire retain.
Every time you walk back into my life I become
hopeless and tonguetied, yet the love still remains.
Of love and parting in exceeding pain,
I hope to see you when I come home again.

I got nothin'

2006-09-13T01:05:00.000-07:00

I love the way he thinks,
I love the way he speaks,
I love the way that he treats his mama,
I love that gap inbetween his teeth,
I love him every way, that a woman could love a man...
from personal
to universal
but most of all it's unconditional.

To all the ones who thought they knew me, it's a test to prove you wrong.

2006-09-10T01:47:00.000-07:00

My heart hurts for something I never had...
something I never felt
someone I never held
the two week romance never came before he went
I miss something I never had,
what she had, what she easily took from me with
no sense that I was even in the room watching this happen...
no ears to hear my heart cracking in half while
I watched as they grooved to the song I wanted to be mine.
The sting of rejection every time I tried to step up to the plate.
who decides what is beautiful, what is good, what is.
what the hell am I supposed to be?
I just wanna go home.

Spain

2006-09-05T00:32:00.000-07:00

Ouch. I'm sorry. The sting just got to my heart.
The reminder of who I am, or who I am supposed to be
I want this so bad, I just can't wait.
I'm sorry my heart hurts, my lungs are soar
The tears swell in my eyes and I can't hold my head up any more.
And I'm not even there yet.
What am I supposed to do now?
I miss something I never had
This feeling is hurting me, I am barely breathing anymore.
when does life begin again? when does the thaw come through my body?
I've been too alone for too long.
I'm so sorry. No more.

San Francisco.

2006-09-04T03:33:00.000-07:00

My car got fucking broken into. That always fucking happens. Yes brick through the window and all. Fuckers!

Zeitgeist

2006-08-25T18:40:00.000-07:00

Original and strangely the same as it always was
All that we had, left in that one after noon
All the things I'd wished I'd said to you
All the things I'd wish we'd done together
The yearning for love eventually will manifest itself
just in the nick of time before my empty

body falls down to the

Ocean floor where

finally I can think in the peace of the blue

with only the sound of waves to comfort my ears

in this serene place with only under water volcanos next to me ready to explode

Think.... think of you, of me, of what could be if you'd only let it.

Nada Mucha

2006-08-24T11:12:00.000-07:00

I wanna write a poem but I have no creative juices.
Too much college already.

I'm talking about three people

2006-08-05T13:27:00.000-07:00

I miss it. I miss it so much
The time, the history, the friends, the bars
I loved him and I loved you
we were best friends the entire time
I can't stand not seeing you all day
I miss the car singing (although we had no car)
I miss you waking me up every morning
The laughs, the insults, the dancing... oh the dancing
The casual flirting when we all got tipsy in Falstaff
You were great that night, the night we all told our secrets
I will see you again some other blesséd day.

*These are way unorganized thoughts*

Silly Hats

2006-08-04T19:33:00.000-07:00

My head is spinning with confusion
Of me, of you, of him, of her
I have new friends now, let him go
Run for the hills, you've already lived a better life
Look at yourself Ms. EmT, you changed 100 times
since you left. Don't let him do this to you.
Grow, breathe, live, smile, and laugh
MOVE ON

Safari Bar

2006-07-26T02:53:00.000-07:00

What the hell is your problem?
Nothing man just chill out.
Have this drink, lets make this song last forever
take her home she can't stand up anymore
Make out on the corner infront of a crowd of people
This is ridiculous
I just want to go home
Hooka Josh left an hour ago and now I have no safety net
I'm not going to take care of you tonight, you did this to yourself
Ran for the door away from a stranger, praying I wouldnt get molested
I should have stayed with Katie, Jeff, or Josh

®@ñd0^^

2006-07-23T05:30:00.000-07:00

Il y a mal a la tête
J'ai eu trop de alcool
Parce que il dit quelle-que chose
et alors je ne peux pas fonction
Ou fais aller?
Adieu

fire in the air

2006-07-21T04:52:00.000-07:00

it's so effing hot here. 104 degrees of pure sweat
i need a breeze, a great sea breeze
I am just sitting here trying to forget class.
I need water I need refreshment. It's so effing hot.

Magic dancing in the rain

2006-07-20T00:56:00.000-07:00

Go away sun
Come glistening rain
The falling water sweetens her hair
Permiates the air, and cools the sizzling earth
Dance glorious day
with hands lifted in joy to the heavens
Her soul is revived and life is breathed back into her lungs
Energized in this moment of epic solitude.

Thoughts from across the Hooka Table

2006-07-16T04:39:00.000-07:00

So I am in France right. Last night four of us went to the Hooka Bar and had a very diverse conversation on religion/future religion/technology and science according to religeon.

One of the questions posed was: How relevant is the Bible to our faith?
I argued for it obviously. This guy's point was, "What was it that first brought you to your faith? The Holy Spirit. The creators of the Bible got to chose what went in and what didn't. How do you know they didn't make a mistake?"

I said "Yes but if God is all knowing then wouldn't he have put in them the desire to put the books He wanted and not them? It happened for a reason."

"But then that goes back to the Holy Spirit putting inside of them the desire. I think we could go without the Bible. The Holy Spirit kind if gets the shaft now-a-days."

"I could for the more emphasis on the Holy Spirit but you can't take the written word of God out. People have to have the tangible paper in their hands telling them what God thinks on the subject."

"Ok, for instance I have a friend and he has a girlfriend they are the most devout Christians but they aren't married and are having sex, does that make them less of Christians?"

"NO, but it puts sin in their lives."

"Who says?"

"The Bible, we have a certain standard in which God laid out for us."

"The Holy Spirit does the work in us not the Bible"

"The Holy Spirit uses the Bible to get His point acrossed."

The convo went on for longer and it is easier to talk about it then to write about it. I find this guy a little hypocritical, because he has Galations 2:20 tatooed on his wrist. More is coming on the other issues

Bastille Eve

2006-07-14T05:56:00.000-07:00

Jägermeister
laugh, smile
Corona with lime please Kat
laugh, dance a number
Airbus for me, lover
laugh, dance
Another Corona, "Way to go Babe"
laugh, flirt, spilled this one on Jeff
And we're up, dancing with people I've never seen before
This black man has a good grip
Grind, slope, shout, grabbed Kat for a good dance
She loves us Americans
Giving us a private party and
good night kiss

regurgitate

2006-07-09T01:45:00.000-07:00

I waited for you
you waited for me
a year went by before we could actually see
see what would become of us
why we made such a fuss to be together
when you cheated on her
you cheated on me.

where the hell am I gonna go from here.

2006-07-09T01:06:00.000-07:00

Half way around the world
and I can't take anymore
I can't even get to the store
where I'd be alone anyways.
They put the letters in the wrong place
the only way to see him is through myspace.
I want to tell you so many lies
that I am in fact glad to be here
glad that I really can communicate.
We all felt the sting last night
when we spilled
eating pizza, the most American of course
to remind us of home.
It's okay I'll just take this shot
to numb me towards what I remember
to be so good.
I guess I was wrong.

more unorganized thoughts

2006-07-06T04:12:00.000-07:00

The world is slowing down in my head
Speeding up outside my body
I looked at his pathetic attempt to move
To the techno beat running through the bar
The streets are going insane
with the excitement of our victory
Walking around it all was sureal
Lights, horns, confetti, techno, and beer
All over my feet. They were dancing in the streets.
Damn it.

France: I

2006-07-05T05:02:00.000-07:00

Wow! What a great place.
Paris was nice but a little expensive
The University is fun the dorms are great
We girls are staying in a convent, yes nuns and all
The World Cup Soccer game is playing and we are down to the semi-finals
Italy beat Germany last night and tonight France is to play Portugal!
Everything is different, better in some ways
There are so many mopeds! If you don't drive a moped,
you walk. there are cars but not like American roadways.
School started today, although none of us wanted to go
We have become acustom tp just hanging out and spending money.
It's funny even the keyboards aredifferent, which makes typing a challenge.
People are nice, it's a college town, that's for sure.

My heart: You break it, you bought it

2006-06-28T23:58:00.000-07:00

Don't touch me,
Get off of me.
What you lost wasn't your clothes.
You lost me with the flick of your cigarette
This water is hot, boiling in fact
We sat in it for hours, trying to make something better of our lives
you came out ontop, you got what you wanted,
you got what you came for.
Sorry if I misread all the times we had spent together,
I trusted you and you outed me, you used me
I told you I was lonely and you found my weakness and used it against me.
Maybe I will tell her, maybe I will out you,
maybe I will call your girlfriend and tell her what you did.
Don't look at me with those eyes,
don't talk to me because all that comes from your mouth is now a lie.

Greeting to one and everyone..

2006-06-27T22:55:00.000-07:00

Dear Family, Friends, Foes, and Lovers:
I am leaving the country for the month and would love if you all would stay in touch. at any rate my email is.... my first initial followed by trobaugh followed by an @hotmail.com
Much Love

Scars I'm not apologizing for anymore.

2006-06-24T16:41:00.000-07:00

Here I am again sitting in some unknown city, in some unknown airport, watching unknown people walk by. Head throbbing, eyes tired, stomach churning. The girl next to me, in seat 45-C just got aquianted with Ralph the Paper Bag puppet in a way I choose not to mention. I just want to go home... only to leave again for an even bigger journey. Missing him, missing you, missing solitude. Are you missing me? Missing the spontaniety, the laughter, and the ability to say what you want because we all know I've been around the emotional block a time or two and I am calloused to whatever you have said to me. Sark gave me an Inspirational Sandwich, a bubble bath for my spirit of sorts. So no, you may not take that tone with me, that WAS uncalled for, and why don't you just get on with saying what you really think of me... because I don't care for you anymore.

notice of bestfriend

2006-06-22T19:37:00.000-07:00

Hey lover.... too bad we got cut off by lil kids.... do you ever get that feeling that everyone around you will never see your side of things no matter how much you try to explain? and you feel like you are backed into a corner with no escape route and you are always looking like the bad guy? i think we both do. i hope you know i stand on my head daily ((literally)) to see the world ((literally)) in a different way, just to understand other people, and if you ever just wanna call and cry on my shoulder... I will stand on my head and see your world in a different way, just so i can understand and hopefully be a help to you. some days I just can't take it and I appriciated your willingness to hear me and be heard, your self, by me. thanks for being my pal.
~Heart~Lizzy~

PS this better have brought tears to your eyes because it brought tears to mine. :)