saturday afternoons

you are such an enormously safe place!
i am so quiet and satiated and warm, i'd rather be asleep on your bed.
though that was definitely not possible.
i promise i will not judge you on based on your family,
even though i am always tense about them
even though i never have to actually talk to them.
and not that i care; but for you, i hope they win, alright?

poorly formatted poetry! charles bukowski!

Alone With Everybody

the flesh covers the bone and they put a mind in there and sometimes a soul, and the women break vases against the walls and the men drink too much and nobody finds the one but keep looking crawling in and out of beds. flesh covers the bone and the flesh searches for more than flesh. there's no chance at all:
we are all trapped
by a singular fate.
nobody ever finds the one.

the city dumps fill
the junkyards fill
the madhouses fill
the hospitals fill
the graveyards fill

nothing else
fills.

merry christmas

it is obvious to me that we are no longer a young family. there's a little more bitterness and a little more real life involved, whereas it used to be just us, at any given time.

things happen so suddenly. i have an unrealistic perception of the passage of time. i can't even begin to imagine another twenty years, and look what happened in two. life is one long string of moving on.

you broke up with us. things like that don't tend to happen. i'm not even really upset, more disappointed and angry that you think so little of us after years of being part of our family.

cause and effect. three years ago, we all had christmas together, and it was going to be that way for as long as i could imagine. now he is dead and you are gone, and all i can keep thinking is 'but i always thought that they would be at my wedding' which is not something i'd imagine myself thinking. and from there it just keeps going into 'i thought they would see me graduate... i'll never travel with them... they will never meet my children.'

aaaand now i'm crying, haha. this is weird, i can't remember ever getting this upset about this. these were important people. to be a bit clicheed, i suppose after you've lived awhile, seventeen years is just a phase, but that is my entire life to date. so.

conversation

if you actually pick up when i call you ridiculously early tomorrow morning, this is probably what i'll say to you:
'are you awake?
...you're not wearing pants, are you?'

i am full of snow

i don't appreciate people enough...

Happy list for this week (no particular order):
JESSIE for being master of the west wing, aka martin sheen, and for her plate costume.
elliot... i mean, he'll always be on this list, but for now, socks in pants.
abbey for a perception-altering postcard
arielle for LOVE
adam, for changing my state of mind and for unfinished thoughts: "when i'm with you, i'm happy. in between..."
elena for always being fabulous
paul stickney for his fanclub and underground houses
esmeralda for an extra day of painting
chris for a bit of honesty and apologies and for one-word prompts
seanna for dinner
hannah for pending phone calls

goddamn

blogspot wouldn't let me log on, and now i don't even
remember what i was going to write.