a polar shift and one second extra...
or maybe left behind.
And when these lights zoom past me and i have to pull and pull at my skirt hem, i feel dizzy. One more second that didnt exist before.
reset the atomic clocks.
reset the human race.
backspace space space space delete.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Monday, December 1, 2008
7
mega freak out last night. Still not sleeping. Still insomniatic 23 years later.
Today I wrote 11.30.2003 on the top of my paper. I was confused and for the quickest moment I couldn't comprehend how 5 years had passed and still I was the same kind of fucked up.
The kind that longs for 17 when 17 actually sucked. And the kind that is dwarfed by fear on a nightly basis.
oh hell oh hell oh hell.
Today I wrote 11.30.2003 on the top of my paper. I was confused and for the quickest moment I couldn't comprehend how 5 years had passed and still I was the same kind of fucked up.
The kind that longs for 17 when 17 actually sucked. And the kind that is dwarfed by fear on a nightly basis.
oh hell oh hell oh hell.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
The Mathematics of Distance.
She is not sure of her own sanity. Last night she was stuck between two giant fears. She was afraid that, as she lay on the floor of her sisters apartment, a few blocks away, her apartment was burning down.
She closed her eyes to hear the sirens.
The second thought put her into a less immediate panic, but emptied her of any full she felt. It was an instant but she was able to stop it, slow it down and see it. Maybe the Matrix was right, she hadn't even seen the whole thing, but it made so much sense that we were all just plugged into some giant dream generator. She thought that perhaps all her relationships were intended and feigned, that everything feeling like reality was just a psychotic delusion marred from the bottom of a grey steel cell with her arms wrapped locked around her body.
She opened her eyes and felt the carpet and her hair and her face and her thighs.
Tangible does not mean real. Imploring ones self to see rationally does not mean one will and then she was frightened. She cried because maybe this confusion was the only real thing. That the reason music is always playing, and she reads books with implausible situations, and drinks heavier than the city rains is because the need to withdraw herself is too great. Because in order to continue she needs to lie to herself until the death.
She holds her eyes open in fear of dreaming.
The day is numb but the night is for her. She falls into sleep and drops into strange places. She stands on cliffs miles above the earth only to see it has been flooded. She watches her friends die in black and white and red. She hears clapping and laughing and runs through long blue corridors of old crumbling buildings wondering if she will see the one solace.
She pulls her knees to chest and cries. Long slow heaves that pull swollen organs.
In her he leaves a trail of absence, and stirs in her an inexplicable amount of everything and nothing. There is a love with no label, and questions all together the science of this LOVE.
a+b=x but x=x and a= nothing at all.
but with him a+b=ab, and x=x, and on its own a= nothing, but paired with b, a becomes real.
She stands up and walks into the bathroom and writes these equations on the mirror with eye pencil. She sees them reflected twice and wishes she could squeeze an = between the reflections so there would be less mess. Purged onto the mirror she stands back and feels her left hand palpitate. Blood flows alright and she sits on the toilet drawing her knees to her chest. She is a. And he is b. and with out the other neither make sense.
and it makes perfect sense.
a remembers when once she told b when b feared his sanity...
...because you are not a normal person, if they cut you open it would be caverns and magnets and polars and alchemy would resurface as the ancient truth and in it is all because of you. We are not normal people. And we don't have a normal friendship. And this wont end badly because we both need each other too much, as both tangible and intangible movements.
She empties her head and sees her with him, standing on the edge of the end of the world with the only hand to hold is his.
She closed her eyes to hear the sirens.
The second thought put her into a less immediate panic, but emptied her of any full she felt. It was an instant but she was able to stop it, slow it down and see it. Maybe the Matrix was right, she hadn't even seen the whole thing, but it made so much sense that we were all just plugged into some giant dream generator. She thought that perhaps all her relationships were intended and feigned, that everything feeling like reality was just a psychotic delusion marred from the bottom of a grey steel cell with her arms wrapped locked around her body.
She opened her eyes and felt the carpet and her hair and her face and her thighs.
Tangible does not mean real. Imploring ones self to see rationally does not mean one will and then she was frightened. She cried because maybe this confusion was the only real thing. That the reason music is always playing, and she reads books with implausible situations, and drinks heavier than the city rains is because the need to withdraw herself is too great. Because in order to continue she needs to lie to herself until the death.
She holds her eyes open in fear of dreaming.
The day is numb but the night is for her. She falls into sleep and drops into strange places. She stands on cliffs miles above the earth only to see it has been flooded. She watches her friends die in black and white and red. She hears clapping and laughing and runs through long blue corridors of old crumbling buildings wondering if she will see the one solace.
She pulls her knees to chest and cries. Long slow heaves that pull swollen organs.
In her he leaves a trail of absence, and stirs in her an inexplicable amount of everything and nothing. There is a love with no label, and questions all together the science of this LOVE.
a+b=x but x=x and a= nothing at all.
but with him a+b=ab, and x=x, and on its own a= nothing, but paired with b, a becomes real.
She stands up and walks into the bathroom and writes these equations on the mirror with eye pencil. She sees them reflected twice and wishes she could squeeze an = between the reflections so there would be less mess. Purged onto the mirror she stands back and feels her left hand palpitate. Blood flows alright and she sits on the toilet drawing her knees to her chest. She is a. And he is b. and with out the other neither make sense.
and it makes perfect sense.
a remembers when once she told b when b feared his sanity...
...because you are not a normal person, if they cut you open it would be caverns and magnets and polars and alchemy would resurface as the ancient truth and in it is all because of you. We are not normal people. And we don't have a normal friendship. And this wont end badly because we both need each other too much, as both tangible and intangible movements.
She empties her head and sees her with him, standing on the edge of the end of the world with the only hand to hold is his.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
2009
Bad Excuse
All accidents and this is not an excuse rather an explanation.
Abusers. I have nothing to give them. I say it too. “I have nothing to give you.” But they follow and then lash. I give them everything, like quarters dug from couch cushions to buy a few forties so you can forget just how broke you are. I give them that. It is all I have. they beat me swift slap and ask for more. Blue Velvet. Right? I am not a mess. I just want to escape my life. Or have everyone evacuate so it can just be me again. Riding a train with earphones stuffed into my head I want them to melt into me so I don’t have to take them off. Listen to Diamanda scream in my head, and her voice tremors the way I wish I could speak. I asked where normal was, and Boy said Minnesota.
Doubtful. Then she said that I was Venus with a heart like borealis ripping open the night sky and kissed me. We made fuck love till five then slept. I dreamt that I was a Satanist who believes in good. Lilacs shoved down the barrel of loaded guns. I am standing on a mountain of discharged shells. When we woke up she remembered she had lost her wallet. I shrugged with a plume of smoke and said “so what, go get another id.” she said she cant and threw her bag on the floor. She said she cant because she is on the Lam, arson. grand theft. possession of illegal firearms. and like felonious poetry I thought I was in love.
she raged on my kitchen floor with boys tears stuck in her eyes, and a line from tegan and sara came into my head.
“I would go to jail with only boys, just to prove I was as tough as you.”
When I told Boy all of this he smirked “you need to find the key to their heart.” he explained to me through computer screens. “then you own them. maybe you should stop thinking its so exciting, or ya know, ask yourself what’s wrong with being a felon?”
keys. keys. locks. chains. words. fucking so hard your skin looks like camouflage and when I sit down I can see all these veins. No one can touch those.
On the train speeding through tunnels I stretched my arms out and traced those veins that seemed to not even be a real part of me. like magic marker that is nearly dried out scratched against chemical white paper. I wanted Boy to see me cry because Boy still closes his eyes at night and wonders if I exist.
I still close my eyes at night and wonder if I exist.
I want Boy to see me cry. I want Boy to lift up his shirt and show me his back and expose the scars that sit evenly apart above his shoulder blades. But we together- it cant all mean this when this is ripped open. The land laid to waste and there really was nothing left. I cant help but wonder if maybe this is what Boys body looked like scaring over, the wounds holding hands as flesh pulled taught and renewed, re-birthed from the crusted old puss.
at night I close my eyes and wish for sleep.
She calls me up while I am writing words that will soon amount to a portrait of her. She is broken and I imagine her curled up in boxers and a shirt. its hard to picture her sad. When we fuck she smells like fire and earth and my orgasms are dreams of campfires. Her energy is celestial and I believe we call into existence something that didn’t before when we touch. Fire and Air. Polars.
Boy is polar to me too. But boy is my angel that I can not touch. She is everything I can touch, she is evil and perfect, brilliant and bad.
And my therapist said that something dark like oil ran through my veins. I stretched my arms out to show her these mapped out canyons that lead to rotting heart and I believed her. She also said that the devil runs between walls. whispering to me in sleep and one time I opened my closet door and he tumbled out looking like a faint shadow but I knew it was him because when he stood I could see he wings spread expanse across my room. As a child I saw this. I knew then nothing was right and everything was wrong. In my head he slides between walls and he will not drown.
So now I have that memory and two polars that when cross examined make up the same picture. She is the shadow and Boy has the wings. She beat boy to the punch and punched the ground this morning over a lost ID. a lost Identity, a warrant, and did I tell you she can siphon gas?
All accidents and this is not an excuse rather an explanation.
Abusers. I have nothing to give them. I say it too. “I have nothing to give you.” But they follow and then lash. I give them everything, like quarters dug from couch cushions to buy a few forties so you can forget just how broke you are. I give them that. It is all I have. they beat me swift slap and ask for more. Blue Velvet. Right? I am not a mess. I just want to escape my life. Or have everyone evacuate so it can just be me again. Riding a train with earphones stuffed into my head I want them to melt into me so I don’t have to take them off. Listen to Diamanda scream in my head, and her voice tremors the way I wish I could speak. I asked where normal was, and Boy said Minnesota.
Doubtful. Then she said that I was Venus with a heart like borealis ripping open the night sky and kissed me. We made fuck love till five then slept. I dreamt that I was a Satanist who believes in good. Lilacs shoved down the barrel of loaded guns. I am standing on a mountain of discharged shells. When we woke up she remembered she had lost her wallet. I shrugged with a plume of smoke and said “so what, go get another id.” she said she cant and threw her bag on the floor. She said she cant because she is on the Lam, arson. grand theft. possession of illegal firearms. and like felonious poetry I thought I was in love.
she raged on my kitchen floor with boys tears stuck in her eyes, and a line from tegan and sara came into my head.
“I would go to jail with only boys, just to prove I was as tough as you.”
When I told Boy all of this he smirked “you need to find the key to their heart.” he explained to me through computer screens. “then you own them. maybe you should stop thinking its so exciting, or ya know, ask yourself what’s wrong with being a felon?”
keys. keys. locks. chains. words. fucking so hard your skin looks like camouflage and when I sit down I can see all these veins. No one can touch those.
On the train speeding through tunnels I stretched my arms out and traced those veins that seemed to not even be a real part of me. like magic marker that is nearly dried out scratched against chemical white paper. I wanted Boy to see me cry because Boy still closes his eyes at night and wonders if I exist.
I still close my eyes at night and wonder if I exist.
I want Boy to see me cry. I want Boy to lift up his shirt and show me his back and expose the scars that sit evenly apart above his shoulder blades. But we together- it cant all mean this when this is ripped open. The land laid to waste and there really was nothing left. I cant help but wonder if maybe this is what Boys body looked like scaring over, the wounds holding hands as flesh pulled taught and renewed, re-birthed from the crusted old puss.
at night I close my eyes and wish for sleep.
She calls me up while I am writing words that will soon amount to a portrait of her. She is broken and I imagine her curled up in boxers and a shirt. its hard to picture her sad. When we fuck she smells like fire and earth and my orgasms are dreams of campfires. Her energy is celestial and I believe we call into existence something that didn’t before when we touch. Fire and Air. Polars.
Boy is polar to me too. But boy is my angel that I can not touch. She is everything I can touch, she is evil and perfect, brilliant and bad.
And my therapist said that something dark like oil ran through my veins. I stretched my arms out to show her these mapped out canyons that lead to rotting heart and I believed her. She also said that the devil runs between walls. whispering to me in sleep and one time I opened my closet door and he tumbled out looking like a faint shadow but I knew it was him because when he stood I could see he wings spread expanse across my room. As a child I saw this. I knew then nothing was right and everything was wrong. In my head he slides between walls and he will not drown.
So now I have that memory and two polars that when cross examined make up the same picture. She is the shadow and Boy has the wings. She beat boy to the punch and punched the ground this morning over a lost ID. a lost Identity, a warrant, and did I tell you she can siphon gas?
Friday, November 21, 2008
The rotting sea splits and all we have is this.
I cant really remember order but it began in this hogwarts like castle and there were these ghost warewolves there who kept telling me that I had to go to the ocean....
and then I am driving a taxi to the ocean , and pretty much it is miles and miles of desolate beach. its apparent that everything has been washed over and all there is is beach & ocean on one side of the small road, and more sand on the other. So I am driving and I can see all this debris on the horizon line of the ocean and then I see a group of people and Skyler is standing ontop of this log.
my brother calls and asks me if I can find his frat pin that he dropped in my taxi (a small yellow gold freemason pin) I find it and for the rest of the dream I am dropping it and picking it up, holding tightly onto it. meanwhile I park and get out and I go and stand next to you on this HUGE log there are other people who kept saying they were vampires and shit. and we watched at all these ships, starting to drift in and getting stuck on the beach. at one point Skyler and I were sitting right where the water meets
and note
the sky was like all grey and I didnt know what time it was, and it was warm
so we are sitting on the edge and all of a sudden this massive blue ship pops up from under the surface and gets washed ashore nearly crushing us, but he grab my hand and we run from it. then we sit on the log watching a double decker bus wash in attactched to a phone pole...more ships wash in slowly with the tide and whatever
then I realize we need to go to the bunker I was staying at and my mom was there and she was cooking for a ton of people
it was all these random people from my childhood and some of my friends now and i am getting upset bc she wont talk to Skyler. Shes cooking and I am starting to worry bc I am afraid my brother is going to get stuck in the dunes after night fall
one of my oldest friends David shows up and he walks in, grabs me and kisses me really hard on the mouth and drags me outside he tells me how before it all ends he needs to tell me that he loves me. He is gay, but he loves me with all his heart.
fin.
and then I am driving a taxi to the ocean , and pretty much it is miles and miles of desolate beach. its apparent that everything has been washed over and all there is is beach & ocean on one side of the small road, and more sand on the other. So I am driving and I can see all this debris on the horizon line of the ocean and then I see a group of people and Skyler is standing ontop of this log.
my brother calls and asks me if I can find his frat pin that he dropped in my taxi (a small yellow gold freemason pin) I find it and for the rest of the dream I am dropping it and picking it up, holding tightly onto it. meanwhile I park and get out and I go and stand next to you on this HUGE log there are other people who kept saying they were vampires and shit. and we watched at all these ships, starting to drift in and getting stuck on the beach. at one point Skyler and I were sitting right where the water meets
and note
the sky was like all grey and I didnt know what time it was, and it was warm
so we are sitting on the edge and all of a sudden this massive blue ship pops up from under the surface and gets washed ashore nearly crushing us, but he grab my hand and we run from it. then we sit on the log watching a double decker bus wash in attactched to a phone pole...more ships wash in slowly with the tide and whatever
then I realize we need to go to the bunker I was staying at and my mom was there and she was cooking for a ton of people
it was all these random people from my childhood and some of my friends now and i am getting upset bc she wont talk to Skyler. Shes cooking and I am starting to worry bc I am afraid my brother is going to get stuck in the dunes after night fall
one of my oldest friends David shows up and he walks in, grabs me and kisses me really hard on the mouth and drags me outside he tells me how before it all ends he needs to tell me that he loves me. He is gay, but he loves me with all his heart.
fin.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
no shame
...nope. None at all haha!
| Hottest Hookup | Biggest Breakup |
| Lindsay Lohan and Sa... | Madonna and Guy Ritc... |
| Favorite Jonas | Breakout Star of the Year |
| Joe | Lady Gaga |
| Baddest Bad Girl | Biggest Scandal |
| Amy Winehouse | Lindsay Lohan and sa... |
| Best Dressed | Worst Dressed |
| Rihanna | Aubrey O'Day |
| Hottest Hottie | Cutest Celebuspawn |
| Chace Crawford | Kingston Rossdale |
| Most Improved | Worst Trainwreck |
| Perez Hilton | Amy Winehouse |
| Most DVR-worthy Series | Biggest Box Office Blowout |
| True Blood | The Dark Knight |
| Celeb of the Year | |
| Rihanna | |
Who would you vote for?
Go to PerezHilton.com to vote!
Go to PerezHilton.com to vote!
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