i still creep nex

"I do not care what car you drive, where you live. If you know someone, who knows someone, who knows someone. If your clothes are this years cutting edge. If your trust fund is unlimited. If you are A-list, B-list or never heard of you list. I only care about the words that flutter from your mind. They are the only thing you truly own. The only thing I will remember you by. I will not fall in love with your bones & skin.I will not fall in love with the places you have been. I will not fall in love with anything but the words that flutter from your extraordinary mind.”
--Unknown

wallowing moment

FOR E.J.P. (cohen)
I once believed a single line
in a Chinese poem could change
forever how blossoms fell
and that the moon itself climbed on
the grief of concise weeping men
to journey over cups of wine
I thought invasions were begun for crows
to pick at a skeleton
dynasties sown and spent
to serve the language of a fine lament
I thought governors ended their lives
as sweetly drunken monks
telling time by rain and candles
instructed by an insect's pilgrimage
across the page - all this
so one might send an exile's perfect letter
to an ancient hometown friend

I chose a lonely country
broke from love
scorned the eternity of war
I polished my tongue against the pumice moon
floated my soul in cherry wine
a perfumed barge for Lords of Memory
to languish on to drink to whisper out
their store of strength
as if beyond the mist along the shore
their girls their power still obeyed
like clocks wound for a thousand years
I waited until my tongue was sore

Brown petals wind like fire around my poems
I aimed them at the stars but
like rainbows they were bent
before they sawed the world in half
Who can trace the canyoned paths
cattle have carved out of time
wandering from meadowlands to feasts
Layer after layer of autumn leaves
are swept away
Something forgets us perfectly

(i personally hope every day that highschool is not just a string of girls i do not really know and boys i do not really love)

the wrong kind

i'm laughing because of the touch of melodrama that accompanies everything we do together and say to each other, and because of how i'm willing to just laugh it off.

nothing makes you appreciate warm people more than cold weather

today, i walked outside the school and everything about outside whispered bits of you! the sky was foggy with invisible snow and my own breath, and blended into the sky, along with the houses and hills and streets. the trees all seemed very starkly black. it wasn't exactly beautiful, but it was very realistic and so it made me stop for a moment. i'm not sure if this reminded me of you because there was so much of you there, or because there was none of you at all.

sweeeepiiinnngggg

WHO AM I KIDDING:
two princes is just about the greatest song ever written. at least... right now it is. (subliminalmessagegodownloaditnowsubliminalmessage
you just don't get songs like you did in the 90's anymore. whatever happened to that song with the girl in the bumblebee suit?

all of tomorrow is shaping up to be AWESOME. every little bit from 9.30 a.m. to who knows when. that's how i like my days- ridiculously extended. every day. like this one, right now.
even work should be fun, since it's only 2 hours. there won't even be time to be bored!
(noted delcaration of love for morgan here)

i'll go anyway

they won't refund the ticket!
how i remember you:
'how will you remember me?
digging ditches out of boredom?
said you would never leave
now you're never going to be here again.'
things are... going well?

fuck that

i am an introspect!
that's okay!
sorry i'm not friendly and happy with strangers like my sister, it's just not me!

hmm

i feel really gross right now. but at least i clean up nicely.

it's a monday that's a sunday

i visit my blog every day and post only once a week, and that's the way i like it.
i feel very tentative. i don't so much know what i'm doing as i am aware of the effects of my actions. so you just don't worry about it; i'm not worried at all. just very tentative and a bit apprehensive, you know?
people lie so much. how are you supposed to make an informed decision when people are constantly trying to protect you with untruths?

to write

i'm sweeping up the glass, now:
when i wake up
it's noon
on sunday
my hair is uncurled
i'm wearing my own clothes
the alley and the bleachers are full of snow.
cars are speeding down Crowchild-
I took a picture
to show you later
what a good job they did of
sweeping
up.

instant gratification

naive but uptight.

'Tom Verlaine was a very bright boy, very learned, but there was some tightness within him. He was just so tightly wound. He was always concerned about men coming on to him. I mean, he was pretty, but I think he didn't really know what life was all about. He hadjust accrued experience from books- it was all read, and not lived. He was very naive in a lot of ways. As opposed to Richard Hell, who had both feet in the ooze.
Hell was definitely the one thinking in subversive terms. Hell was the one who always had the most awareness of what the text was trying to denote. Hell was a boulevard surrealist, groping for the breakthrough, the one grasping for liberation.'

florence

i want so much to write! i feel like i'm floating around in bits of imagery and verse with no way of communicating what they mean. i'm swimming around in other people's poetry and more or less failing at writing it myself.
i would so much like to make art. i can't believe i have to wait almost an entire year before i can stop thinking about things like math and chemistry and just start existing in clouds of imagery and symbolism and interpretation and new mediums. i suppose there are always pre-college programs... in italy?
you: i feel like dirt. no, actually, you feel like dirt. your profundity is dirt and talking with you is EXACTLY like throwing stones into a shallow pool. for once, i actually said precisely what i wanted to say. it's like throwing stones and expecting the satisfaction of them sinking, but instead only getting noise and superficial splashes of water. don't give yourself so much credit.

jane vain and sunday nights

'everything that i say to you
will be forgotten by tomorrow
so why do i try to lend you ideas
that you aren't even able to borrow?'

my name is potato - RITA PAVONE -

counting down

my journal says--

i like feeling safe in unsafe places, like in a car with you.

are those your breadcrumbs scattered along my path?

let's be wanderers

remember me next time i go away
for the first time in my life i wanna stay
i can count one hand here today
the only things that matter to me anyway
and it seems so far away
seems so far away

remember me now
'cause things always change
5 long years have gone
i've done some time
sleeping where i fall
i know i'll never be the same

les racines et les branches de ma coeur

i wasn't expecting that when i translated it, and it was just so beautiful.

true love

unfortunately, i have wasted all my really good lines on real people, instead of saving them for my blog.
and i like it.
i like hugging people when you're both dressed in multiple layers, because there's more for you to get lost in. i like how the night sky has three dimensions when you get out of the city. i saw four shooting stars.
i always want to know who the important people are. i'm glad i know how to laugh at myself. i always want to know how to laugh at myself. i'm glad i know who the important people are.

"the tricks of today are the truths of tomorrow."

what's important

yes, this was a shitty shit weekend of shit. i didn't even have hope to run on. i don't really like blogs, it's awkward and i feel like i'm supposed to live in a way that will make for coherent and linear writing.
that really didn't last very long.

'she is so explosive,
volcanoes watch her and learn-
terrorists strap her to their chests because she is a cause worth dying for.'

really? score! we are so pleased!!!