Maybe this is how the sane lose their mind, or maybe it's the way to find something. I'm open for the sky and chanting, chanting away.
Lover,
Lover,
Lover.
It's what I keep telling myself. That's all I have to be or… find. Finality. The Note that is always escaping me.
You know best how to use your sublime abuse, and my knuckles are thrashed red from it. That certain way you touch me leaves me tingling, wanting for more. Waiting for more. Aching is a better word for it, but I wait still.
Waiting,
Waiting,
Waiting.
It all comes down to this. What comes after is nothing. Or everything. I've never been there because I've always been here waiting. For what, you ask? The note before The Note. It's all too logical for me to understand. The way you tell me you don't want to go 'there' with me is all I can think of. All I cannot think of, too. Are you understanding me yet?
Summons,
Summons,
Summons.
Like the ringing of a bell, the thrill of a shiver… mouth open and eyes closed. I look at myself one last time before I undress. I know that my eyes aren't filled enough for a whole life with you. Maybe they never will have the glimmer you want.
I tell myself to put on the dress. Just put on the damn wedding dress. Something will leave, I know it.
Leaving,
Leaving,
Leaving.
That desire is leaving because it must. I need my sanity. I need to get away from wanting emotions. I want an absence of faith to clear the sick feeling in my head and stomach. I want God. Which is...
Ridiculous.
Because He left.
More than anything, I think, I want you to moan for me. In my ear. Across every inch. So I can know that it's all we are. A moan.
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
"The Terrible Thing"
Settling. Fucking settling. I want to smash the papers back in your face. Make your own numbers, assign your own tasks and do them while you're at it. Dragon. Witch. Derelict beast of a woman.
Put four plates in front of me, piled high with your inane bullshit. Bullshit! I can't use any of them, but I have to use them all. You're rating me... raping me with your numbers. In the ass. Ass!
The tomatoes are gone. The beeping is constant... I can't get the tomatoes, I won't. The words are here now, they're here, and I can't deny them. You're interrupting me, and I can't stay here.
Put four plates in front of me, piled high with your inane bullshit. Bullshit! I can't use any of them, but I have to use them all. You're rating me... raping me with your numbers. In the ass. Ass!
The tomatoes are gone. The beeping is constant... I can't get the tomatoes, I won't. The words are here now, they're here, and I can't deny them. You're interrupting me, and I can't stay here.
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Sunday Drive... and it owns me
A Pen. I need a Fucking Pen. Anyone? I find one, cradle it in my hand, and the calmness rushes through me.
Music. The trees want Cake. The grass is sleeping fitfully. The sky and road just want it loud. My shitty radio sounds are up all the way, violently shoving out the beat. The trees gather closer to the road, to the music, urging the road to narrow it's intensity.
Planes strike the sky and it doesn't notice. It's turned to us, enthralled by the beat and the life moving slowly in a line. The sky hold us up to it's blue nostrils, willing the smell.
The grass wakens near the road, smiling greenly at us. 'Rouse the cows!' it turns to shout. It's just like grass... always thinking of the cows.
The lime green house with matching lime green chairs ask me if I'd like to sit for a while. It nods noncommitally when I decline, going back to it's lime green porch. The glistening pond begs for a swim, to be caressed and penetrated, but I can't satify the water. The road owns me today, and the trees have me in a close embrace.
Music. The trees want Cake. The grass is sleeping fitfully. The sky and road just want it loud. My shitty radio sounds are up all the way, violently shoving out the beat. The trees gather closer to the road, to the music, urging the road to narrow it's intensity.
Planes strike the sky and it doesn't notice. It's turned to us, enthralled by the beat and the life moving slowly in a line. The sky hold us up to it's blue nostrils, willing the smell.
The grass wakens near the road, smiling greenly at us. 'Rouse the cows!' it turns to shout. It's just like grass... always thinking of the cows.
The lime green house with matching lime green chairs ask me if I'd like to sit for a while. It nods noncommitally when I decline, going back to it's lime green porch. The glistening pond begs for a swim, to be caressed and penetrated, but I can't satify the water. The road owns me today, and the trees have me in a close embrace.
Monday, February 4, 2008
They would love to blame it on drugs
They would love to blame it on drugs.
Today I woke up with a snake on my face. Heat and pain are together, according to the paper. I believe I'm entirely sane.
The way you looked when you crumbled the sky that told me I should cry out... no, maybe try out for the opening as God. I hear he's vacationing, leaving his station for a year or so.
Those tears that haven't dried must be running somewhere still. Colorado? No, down your chin till they disappear. Now you've got them under cuff.
What did you call that bluff? By it's name .. and ít's only a syllable away from mine.
My position is with churning with want of an overthrow. I'm being directed towards Goddess. There's not enough romance in God, they say.
Today I woke up with a snake on my face. Heat and pain are together, according to the paper. I believe I'm entirely sane.
The way you looked when you crumbled the sky that told me I should cry out... no, maybe try out for the opening as God. I hear he's vacationing, leaving his station for a year or so.
Those tears that haven't dried must be running somewhere still. Colorado? No, down your chin till they disappear. Now you've got them under cuff.
What did you call that bluff? By it's name .. and ít's only a syllable away from mine.
My position is with churning with want of an overthrow. I'm being directed towards Goddess. There's not enough romance in God, they say.
Saturday, February 2, 2008
The Satire of.. (edited for the public eye)
If I were a really bad ass monk I could probably find a way to scream out every word I've ever heard or said all at once... and get it all out. I'm not a bad ass monk, though... just random. (Emo eye shift..)
The week ends with my apparent inarticulacy. A few people must have picked up on this because they decided it was a good time to attack my 'moral standards' as well as point out my 'imminent path of... doom.' I don't know how 'they' managed to pick up on this seeing as how 'they' just see what they're told to see, and 'they' make sure 'their' ideas are all copied directly from some ridiculous code. Chants...
How can you expect someone to explain their complete composition in five minutes flat? It's ridiculous, and you only have the upper hand because it happens to point fingers.
Horoscope reading for the day:
'You've been temporarily endowed with superpowers. The ability to turn mere sounds into poetry, music and mesmerizing stories will be yours for the next 24 hours or so. Better carry throat lozenges, because once word gets around, you won't be able to turn the fans away without a demonstration.'
It was a cool day but I didn't get the 'superpower' vibe. Maybe the 'repressed sexual tension' vibe. I may not have sudden goddess-like powers today, but Steph definitely had a nice proposition. A sure thing is a great feeling.. and movie. I need a really good ... to brighten my mood. I take it back. Today sucked.
Whatever. I'm going to stop second guessing myself and becoming harrowed about... you.
The week ends with my apparent inarticulacy. A few people must have picked up on this because they decided it was a good time to attack my 'moral standards' as well as point out my 'imminent path of... doom.' I don't know how 'they' managed to pick up on this seeing as how 'they' just see what they're told to see, and 'they' make sure 'their' ideas are all copied directly from some ridiculous code. Chants...
How can you expect someone to explain their complete composition in five minutes flat? It's ridiculous, and you only have the upper hand because it happens to point fingers.
Horoscope reading for the day:
'You've been temporarily endowed with superpowers. The ability to turn mere sounds into poetry, music and mesmerizing stories will be yours for the next 24 hours or so. Better carry throat lozenges, because once word gets around, you won't be able to turn the fans away without a demonstration.'
It was a cool day but I didn't get the 'superpower' vibe. Maybe the 'repressed sexual tension' vibe. I may not have sudden goddess-like powers today, but Steph definitely had a nice proposition. A sure thing is a great feeling.. and movie. I need a really good ... to brighten my mood. I take it back. Today sucked.
Whatever. I'm going to stop second guessing myself and becoming harrowed about... you.
Friday, February 1, 2008
Snakes and Steinbeck
I'm in a terribly introspective mood tonight. If there's a bad-luck quota somewhere in the depths of our screwy psyches, mine is definitely getting on just fine.
Four or five lengthy conversations about human behavior later, my mind is just about bursting with outrage at how devious and hypocritical we humans are- especially women. No wonder I'm not a lesbian. (Don't say anything to that guy, though...) Oh, did I mention I'm infinitely paranoid tonight as well? It's all true...
Containment is key... I don't want to rant about how I hate the motives behind marriage and monogamy, or how the supposed 'fear of God' completely cages both men and women into things like.... monotonous sex. Mediocre convictions. Mainstream thought processes. Are you noticing a common tread here?
I know I'm pretty ridiculous most of the time and, yes, an unabridged dork, but I can't help but wonder why life has to follow 'the Plan' according to convention. 'The Plan' is dictated by straight-laced preachers, cubby-holed teachers, and unhappy mothers. Okay... I don't know why I'm trying. If you want to live... live. The was is over if you want it. Do what feels right.
Four or five lengthy conversations about human behavior later, my mind is just about bursting with outrage at how devious and hypocritical we humans are- especially women. No wonder I'm not a lesbian. (Don't say anything to that guy, though...) Oh, did I mention I'm infinitely paranoid tonight as well? It's all true...
Containment is key... I don't want to rant about how I hate the motives behind marriage and monogamy, or how the supposed 'fear of God' completely cages both men and women into things like.... monotonous sex. Mediocre convictions. Mainstream thought processes. Are you noticing a common tread here?
I know I'm pretty ridiculous most of the time and, yes, an unabridged dork, but I can't help but wonder why life has to follow 'the Plan' according to convention. 'The Plan' is dictated by straight-laced preachers, cubby-holed teachers, and unhappy mothers. Okay... I don't know why I'm trying. If you want to live... live. The was is over if you want it. Do what feels right.
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