NEW home away from home.

http://friedchopsticks.tumblr.com/

for different things.

as strange as it sounds, I'd like it to be monday

I want to see elephants

Somedays,

I want to dive up into the sky and splash around for a little while and then just float and look back up at the earth and all the trees pointing down at me and all the people laying looking right back up at me.

Listen; there's a hell of a good universe next door: let's go.

E. E. Cummings

I would rather learn from one bird how to sing than to teach 10,000 stars how not to dance.

E. E. Cummings

"and the sky'd be so big that it broke my soul"

I want to go home;

I want to smell the sea.

just.to.say.something.

So the key to writing is writing, right? And you're supposed to write what you know. But what about when I don't know what I know, 'cause the world's going crazy and I can't seem to find who I'm supposed to be today. But hey. Writing's a release, yeah? So why do I feel trapped in this cylce where my knowledge is sapped and I laugh all the time, but I can't find a rhyme. Except that one. Which, frankly, doesn't even count. And it almost makes me miss the heartache or the causes of it because I can't justify pain when everything's going ok. "Who cares if it hurts like hell as long as it makes a good story?" Well maybe I don't have a story. Not anymore. Not yet. And all I can do is rewrite or sound clever. And all I want to do is feel something. The way I used to. The way I wrote it.

tell me.

tell me again.

tell me everyday a million times until it makes sense and is fair and good and didn't happen.

look what I found, now that I posted that:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/78993837@N00/4992500462/sizes/z/in/photostream/

still tempt me.

It's times like these. In the middle of the night when I'm tired but restless and the moon filters across the floor that I wish I had a huge house to rattle around in. All by myself. Just me and the silence and the settling and the night. And maybe someone to run across. Sometimes. Maybe.

And will I take the calendar down from my wall without ever having turned the page?

I want to dive up into the sky and splash around for a little while and then just float and look back up at the earth and all the trees pointing down at me and all the people laying looking right back up at me.

old thoughts.

Check this out!

http://superheroes.rootsandshoots.org/video.asp

My friend Tiombe is the one wearing the flowered shirt.

‎"The first week of August hangs at the very top of summer, the top of the live-long year, like the highest seat of a Ferries wheel when it pauses in its turning. The weeks that come before are only a climb from balmy spring, and those that follow a drop to the chill of autumn, but the first week of August is motionless, and hot. It is curiously silent, too, with blank white dawns and glaring noons, and sunsets smeared with too much color. Often at night there is lightning, but it quivers all alone. There is no thunder, no relieving rain. These are strange and breathless days, the dog days, when people are led to do things they are sure to be sorry for after."

"No," I said. "One is most eloquent when there is nothing left to say." And I walked away from her and shut the door quietly between us before the silence could follow me into the hall.

I don't know why, but

funerals remind me of the south. in my mind, that's where they all happen. a tiny old chapel in the middle of nowhere when it's too hot to cry and everyone's just waiting for the potluck buffet in the church basement with the child-sized bathrooms.

speak up.

we all have so many stories to tell all the time, but we're incapable of listening to the stories of others. someone could be telling us who they are and why they are and their meaning in life and we won't be able to hear it because no one can tell their own stories properly. no one can understand their own stories, espeicially because they lived them. and because no one really cares about anyone else.

[from 7/11/10]

sometimes I think we should have just moved to georgia when we had the chance.

From "On Turning Ten"

"It seems only yesterday I used to believe

there was nothing under my skin but light.

If you cut me I would shine.

But now I fall upon the sidewalks of life,

I skin my knees. I bleed."

and quote

why do the young seem fearless? why do the young appear to have a sense of invincibility?

It's because, when you're young, everything hurts so much. It all matters so much. Everything is life or death with no hope of recovery or a loophole. We are completely in tune with our mortality but, instead of frightening us, it also fuels our passions and weaknesses. It is who we are. We know that we must do what matters even if it matters only to us and only for a moment becasue to do otherwise is to waste our lives waiting. Waiting for something that cannot exist unless we stop waiting and create it.

Those who question us are those who are still waiting. Youth is only wasted on the young by the elders we obey when our hearts cry out to run and live. We cannot wait. We will grow old and lose our chances. Every moment we live is a measure the swan songs of our deaths.

end quote.

[earlymorning.junetwentieth.twothousandandten.commonera]

back in...blue?

I can't wait. It doesn't work.

"I said no, there wouldn't be marvelous places to go to after I went to college and all. Open your ears. It'd be enirely different. We'd have to go downstairs in elevators with suitcases and stuff. We'd have to phone everybody up and tell 'em good-by and send 'em post-cards from hotels and all. And I'd be working in some office, making a lot of dough, and riding to work in cabs and Madison Avenue buses, and reading newspapers, and playing bridge all the time, and going to the movies and seeing a lot of stupid shorts and coming attractions and newsreels. Newsreels. Christ almighty. There's always a dumb horse race, and some dame breaking a bottle over a ship, and some chimpanzee riding a goddam bicycle with pants on.

It wouldn't be the same at all. You don't see what I mean at all."

I must be using you to get me where I want to go because I will not miss you when I get there.

"What lay beneath this calm exterior was desolation. It was an emotion no kid should have to feel -- not Benny, not Gemma, not himself back then. Yet he wondered if it wasn't the legacy of childhood. At some point in the game, you would come to it, no matter how you were raised, no matter if you had a big family around you, desolation was inevitable, it ran beneath everything, the always-available unbearably adult emotion that clung to one's still-breathing body like drowned clothes."

Martha Grimes' Richard Jury

I want to drive

until I hit the ocean

and then get a boat

and sail it

until I find the horizon.

why can't every day just be sun and music?

There's something about seeing that heavy, expectant grey/blue juxtaposed on the tight, snapping green that divides the world into colors and lines and sends a delicious shiver down my spine. My stomach tightens and my eyes widen as the room dimms and a cloud passes over the sun. I cannot help but grin a little; I was made for storms.

"I can clap my elbows but it makes my nose hurt."

-JLK

words to live by:

"but just...decide or whatever..or whatever"

-K.A.T.

every story is true but not every truth has a story

and I'm scared. not because I think I can't do this but becuse I know I can and I think it will break me.

and there's a loss here because the print on your computer screen can't run from the wet spots left by my tears

but I still feel it all and you do, too, and we're trying to save ourselves save ourselves save each other but we don't know what from and we don't know what for

and so we go to bed and we wake up and what for? to find our ways once more to our beds. I know I can do it. I think it will break me.

Why is it that everything you think got washed away by the rain

comes rushing back the moment you step inside?

moments of innocence
lost
lost
lost
and wonderings if loss is worth it if growing up is so much better and why does it have to come with growing old and why can't i be six again ?

"We make all these goals without realizing what they really mean."

-K.A.T.

"Look me in the eye and tell me love is never based upon insanity."

-Melody Gardot

that fine line you keep telling me about is really no more than a lane divider on a

o n

e w

a y

s t

r e

e t

and one of them a redhead!

Is it my fault if I want a life that can be described as "Impetuous! Homeric!" by someone as adorable as Michaleen Flynn?

icicles in the snow like the clawprints of some great winged beast hiding just outside the circle of light waiting in shadows for me to stop moving to slow down to make that one fatal mistake of letting down my guard closing my eyes and letting the darkness in. but I'm standing still and staring at the ground for you see I'm bigger than that giant I flipped the switch.

Dichotosectomy

I'm screaming yelling, shouting, dancing for joy and weeping sorrow-filled tears. Yet here I sit, quiet and still:

Relishing the silence of my own creation.

our shared inheritance

"He snatched up a heavy bronze from the mantelpiece -- a beautiful thing, even as he snatched it, his fingers caressed the patina -- and the impulse seized him to smash the mirror and smash the face -- to break out in howls and animal gestures.

Silly! One could not do that. The inherited inhibitions of twenty civilized centuries tied one hand and foot in bonds of ridicule. What if he did smash the mirror? Nothing would happen."

-Dorothy L. Sayers

I want to watch the sun rise. Not like every other morning where I rush about getting ready for the day, being prepared, making it all mean something. Just to sit and watch the sun rise and know that that has meaning. That life is ok because the sun is rising and I can sit and see it. In the quiet. Alone but not lonely.

I just want to watch the sun rise and know there is a world with you in it.

I wish I could photograph quiet.

but then my life kicks in.

I sometimes feel that I'm borrowing other people's emotions. That I can have no idea of the specific pain of an event unless I, myself, have experienced it. But that's not true. The range of human emotion is only identifiable because it is shared by all humanity. We all know, in some form, pain and sorrow and joy and love, even if only as a dream. It's what makes us create and destroy; the basis of society and anarchy the same. Just as there is no reason for fear, there is no reason for hope. And yet they are. Because we are.

and at the end of a sunlit day the dark is just the same before a rain-soaked dawn.

of course

wonderful sunshine at last, and all I'm dying for is a thunderstorm.

"There was a sweet smell of approaching rain. Another flash and crash; a swift gust of wind; and then the swish and rush of falling water, the gurgle of overflowing gutters, and peace." -Dorothy L. Sayers

M1

so how are you?

21:07Me

ummmmm

I'm not sure, actually

a little stressed, a little tired, a little worried, and a little all right

but mostly I'm alive.

"In short, a piebald parliament... of that multiform pilgrim species, man."

-Herman Melville

"He's one of those guys who could, you know, turn a phrase."

I miss this.

and in that moment when life and death tremble on the turn we are free. Free of hope, free of despair. Free of love, free of hate. Free of dreams, free of sorrow, free of responsibility. We are free of humanity and that moment is the blessing of life.

So maybe maybe maybe there’s no reason to cry, but how else do we know we’re alive?

Come sit with me a while and we will discover the world

We may not get it right, but we’ll never give up trying.

Perhaps the world will change around us

And we may fall behind.

But come sit beside me, and see what we can find.

ch-ch-ch-changes

change is slow and, no matter how much you try, it ain't never gonna be easy

Remember #2 (For You)

I just want to make this clear:

No matter what, I'm here. No matter what, I will be.

So don't worry about bothering me. I'd rather know.


always, ok?

Just because I'm not saying anything doesn't mean I have nothing to say.

I can't expect you to know this, not when you think my silence means something wrong. Not when you can't see that I don't want that life you've created around me. Not when you don't understand.

That's why I'm not saying anything.

year by year by year by year.

Everyone has stories from when they were 17. Stories that they will always remember about experiences, people and events that changed the tenor of the rest of their lives.

I kinda can't wait to find out what mine's going to be.

"and the world ends not with a bang but a 6."

found on http://finallyseeing.tumblr.com/

"
And the clock on the wall has been stuck at 3 for days, and days"

-Matchbox Twenty

My wall calendar still shows August.

"'How old are you?'

'Well,' she said, 'I'm seventeen and I'm crazy.'"

I have spent too much time

listening

without

feeling

and too much time

speaking

without

knowing.

I've always been living half a life.

I'm scared that it's been less than that. That I've never really lived at all. That I've missed all of my chances to do so.

no more

I am not willing to prove myself by your terms. I will prove myself by mine. I will not accept that that's not the way the world works. The world needs to change, even if I must be the one to change it. I will be whoever the hell I want to be because I think it's right. I guess I have some work to do.

I just kinda want to say to you all that, although I may never have hated it, I'd really appreciate none of this ever happening again.

2010

a brand new year

I'm scared out of my mind.