Words, words. Pressure. Aphasia please, yet i can't converse now. Words, just shut up.

Judgment Day
It was Judgment Day. A day he would always remember. He had no idea of this appointment. It was sudden to him, like finding half a dollar bill on the sidewalk. There was a pretty good show prepared for him, which added to his surprise. On this day he watched his wife Die. He watched as the fire devoured her body, consuming the once familiar parts he was once intrigued by, but never a partcipant. He watched. The fire, yellow, blue, red and raw with anger latched first onto her small white toes, delicate and soft like a perfect alignment of tiny little babies’ bottoms. As every member of seemingly fragile body fed the fires hunger, its anger increased. The raw power licked and engulfed her torso, laughing at the loss of half her life he had just taken. She had nowhere to stand now. His wife floated mysteriously suspended by the raging torrent. It paused briefly at her breast, taking now her piece-by-piece. He could hear the evil giggles of the fire. It took its time deliciously chewing on her heart, sweet, juicy, a pure delight. Once it had finished, the fire eagerly proceeded to her neck, eating in crunchy chunks. When it had finally reached her face, her eyes became cold. He remembered how glassy and cold her eyes had turned. They were such a sharp contrast against the fire, which now raged inside her. He knew it was dining on his wife’s brain now. Raping her deepest memories, perverting her innocence, the fire twisted and intertwined itself into her mind, digging into her soul. It was searching, that he knew. Her eyes remained cold and glassy. Then the fire grew big and exploded with a heat unbearable to even the most lifeless soul. It could not find it, he thought. He smiled. His wife was right. It had worked. He never realized what had happened until this moment. All his true life he had always seemed to overlook such intricate details. He really took her for granted. Had she really loved him that much? He couldn’t have even imagined, still, even now. But there he stood, watching her body disintegrate by the raging, deliriously angry fire. For him, it was unfathomable. Her eyes suddenly darkened. Now they were black, more lifeless than before. He knew why she could stand it. However, he did not and never would understand her decision. Why had she chosen him? Really, if she only had the intention of being saved, she could have used anyone. But no, she had chosen him. In her true life, she had picked him to grow old with, to have child with. Certainly she had not used him for this half-picked salvation. There had to have been something more. He couldn’t wrap his mind around it. Why? The fire spit with fury, and stormed like a tempered child around the body that no longer existed. It could not find it, and seeing the uselessness of the situation, fled into the darkness underneath, bellowing furiously all the way. He watched as the ashes of her brain, which the fire did not finish, fall into the distance. Her soul was safe, and he knew it. He held what the fire had so maliciously searched for. How he received her soul, he couldn’t tell. He only understood that she had chosen him and he now contained her. She had chosen him long before either of their deaths. Long ago, when they were both still children, she looked over at him and


Brother
This is a story about a girl insignificant to you. You wouldn’t care, even if you are the ones who killed her. She was a girl unloved, forgotten, insignificant to everyone. But I will tell you the story anyhow, if not to help your ignorance, then to vent my frustration
First, she died in a car accident. It was an accident. She was driving back home to us. They said the car was found smashed to half the original size. Her body had stayed in the car, but she was broken. Only her cut t-shirt was given to us. When the doctor handed the blood soaked, now crusted t-shirt over, her mom was just looking apathetically at the rag in her hands. I snuck it into my backpack after she had set it down on the waiting table. They said that her heart was stopped before impact, but they were unsure of when. I still don’t know how they could ever tell.
She had been driving home to us. They had forced her. For years she had tried to escape, and we thought she had. After going to college, we had thought they would finally let her go. We had thought wrong.

I left swearing I'd never look back.  August through December, days spent not thinking of you. But now spring has come and I've thrown my head down. The darkened days aren't getting brighter so my coffee tells me.  I look at the time, so I'm still alive.  I swore I'd never go back.  It was so easy in the light.  Alone in my bedroom I dream.  Forever, I can't always be.  The pages keep turning crushing me between. 
I wake up and throw my head out the window.  I'm still alive.  When will it be easy to lift up my head to the sky and see the clouds looking down at me? I swore I'd never look back, but there's a reason the poor love you, and the poor at heart despise you.

But the hard Life is going to tell everyone exactly where the line is.  Really gray doesn't exist. Life leaps. Nothing is gradual, so jump, jump, jump with eyes looking everywhere at once. No wonder we're all nauseous.

I tried to win your heart, but lost my way. This little tear in my jeans is the only souvenir I have.  I am smiling, now, just like you told me too, however, I can’t find any saving grace.  I doused myself in lighter fluid, just to shine for you, to build a fire for you.  With all these tears, it’s become hard to trace my steps, and everything in front blurs, like a poorly written fiction story.  In my heart is confusion over a simple plot.  Where’s the deeper meaning?  How has everything changed?  Wash your hands of my face, so my heart can quit.  I’m feeding off of memories I never really had.  And you just turn away, more like him than ever.  I wish I could turn my head from your almond eyes.  But a man with a thousand lives can see that I don’t understand the circumstance.  Keep on walking, I’d call you a fool.  Don’t worry anymore about the heat. I’m all burned out.

Simply

Can you and I always be touching?
I mean, even times when we're
Buried in the couch and
Reading separate books, totally engrossed.
Can we remain yet in contact
Somehow, like our legs slowly rubbing
Up against one another's
And our toes can be touching?

And when we sit and smile someday
In green vinyl lawn chairs
At the beach, wearing UV-blocking sunglasses,
Deaf to the monotonous ocean crashing,
Our hands, you know, might start digging
Through the sand and tunnel together,
One last give and we'll break through.
We could be touching, then.
Keep your hand there, OK?

No thought makes me happier
Than sandy fingers clasping in the cool damp.

Mark Haggarty

Someday out there we will find, just waiting, and then when that moment comes we will think, why were we in such a hurry? But forever together we will find, just waiting for that moment in time. -?

"Sleep tight my little dreamers, sleep tight..." -random

All light and laughter in the morning; fear 
No petty customs nor appearances; 
But think what others only dream'd about; 
And say what others did but think; and do 
What others dared not do: so pure withal 
In soul; in heart and act such conscious yet 
Such perfect innocence

Let all be well in these times of innocence, be happy y'all, soon we have to grow up.

(story part II) (irony; pretending, when mind is really pretending: romances the past, so inevitably wont move on: logic is illogical) ha
(big sigh)...Life just seems to drone on without me. I want to get involved and become useful, but iam so lazy and apathetic. I wish I could be that little kid in all those movies, with the perfect house and the perfect family, where everything's just hunkydorie. Another thing lately, I wish I could learn from the past and let it be constructive and not destructive. But it seems no matter how hard I try it keeps turning out to be the latter.I want to be happy, and pretend everything's o.k. BUt thatd be a lie.

Do you ever wonder if the person inside the puddle is the real you, and your just a reflection?  (love)

I dont know why I even try when my efforts dont change anything. Ive been treated so wrong so why do i still care. I want to start new, start over. Go to a different place. I need a change of scenery. People arent real anymore.

We had so much fun together,
the memories we made so great,
all those nights laughing and smiling,
staying up so late.

As the snow falls on the sidewalks,
I know this too will pass,
for feelings are like the seasons changing,
and one season never lasts.

So, I know this must stop now,
and tomorrow soon will come,
as we walk away and never look back,
as our warm feelings become numb.

 

where i travel, you can't saunter
for your welcome has retired.
no more interrupted signals
or messages left unsent.

And we drone on and on, most are machines of stupidity, others trapped because they're held in by the metal.

People change all the time, so why are we surprised?

"Choices can lead you to love, God gave us choices so we might love him, despite that we may make the wrong choices.."-my little brother (doesnt quite make sense, but i thought it was real cute of him) yesss real cute

watching the day go by doesnt seem like half the fun...

iam so glad when each day is over...but what are we moving on to? (plural, ???)

Why do we hold on to the past? (again, misma)

Do we all really go in circles? (")

Yes...I guess we do... (")

Over and over again we fall...to what?..get back up?

watching the sun pass I can see the shadows of you...  *(back to sing)

I cant wait to be with you... (other, or other self)

It feels good to be home again...but i was gone for so long, I feel like part of me is missing, Iam not all the way here again.

Was it worth it?...no I guess not...thats sucks....I did all i could, but Iam glad this is my fate...I shouldnt waste my time on worthless luxuries anyways...they're not real enough...not with those I choose

i live the story of my life, I am sure somebody else would have been more enthused with it...

My inate sense of perfection opens my mind to the incessant complexities of life and therefore I must live with its conviction of my inabilities to match that perfection which I can see standing right there, but never able to mobilize.

I cant wait for the wintry skies...

I cant wait to see you..

Turney's show is tonight...9:30 at the Door....whahooo?

Everyday just gets more and more peachy doesnt it...

-Life's a bitch, then you die.

Well forget this. -Mandy

"pair of diamonds"

Tis not a fallacy for fools to rush in
for expedience is true love's nature.
To wait is to doubt that which binds
two together until the last sun set.
The only thing that needs to exist
is the knowledge of who we are,
and what our love will become
when unity encompasses like a circle.
Let the fools rush in but call them not
a fool at heart, but full at heart.
Knowing in an instant requires faith
in the force that knits and knots
the matches like a pair of diamonds,
But a diamond you are and will remain.
-thelull

(how it feels (good) to talk to somebody who's face is actually erased when you feel erased yourself) (irony: neither are aware of reality: woman loved by others overcome by ignorance & man unloved striving to prove his own falsity) -story Part II past flash
I dont think Ive ever in my life tried so hard to hate something I want so much. But I dont know what else to do. I miss how things were before. I cant change anything now and I never will be able to. But I cant just wait here for things to change on their own. I have to do something even if it might not be the best. Iam so tired of being in this limbo. Iam so tired. So I talked with David E. tonight and it actually made me feel better. It usually does. I dont know why people are so negative about him. People are too caught up with appearance. He's just like everyone else. I dont know. I feel like caring for people is a waste, it's so draining. And it gets you nowhere. I understand that it's the right thing to do, but isnt it supposed to make you feel more whole as a person? Its not as if I want to be mean to people that's a waste too. But being kind and going out of the way to make people feel better seems pointless. Nothing works anymore. These days I feel like Iam just going through the motions. My feelings are so confused that I dont even use them anymore. School is soon to start and the drama is going to be wonderful. People cant seem to chill out. It's only school. Why do we all feel like competing against each other? If we spent even half our energies on lifting people up as we did being jealous this world would be so much better. Why cant people love? We create so many walls that nothing is even real anymore. We have layers and layers of masks that we put on everyday just to be presentable to others.

When You’re Known
It’s rather a matter of not feeling alone.  My parents didn’t even ask me if I wanted to go home for the vacation. In return, I didn’t even express an interest.  I have guided myself through a lonesome semester of college; everything new and managed to come into the second friendless.  It’s a matter of not being alone.  Though, in many of my actions it appears that I strive to push others away. He is there as a modern comfort, so that if I disappear, someone will care. I just need someone to care about where I am, what I am doing, where I’ll be going. It seems to me that this would be the job of parents, but seeing that mine are out playing golf, I am to fend for myself, required to find my own installation. Payment is easy. At times the mystery of my travels is somewhat stimulating, but not to the degree as a check-up phone call.  And not a call about how things are going or how much my financials are arranged, I only ask for a concern call.  And this is what he has become.  I courtesy call that no longer functions to its intended purpose.

She woke up at 6am. With structured efficiency she removed the sheets from the bed, folded them and carefully laid them stacked on the nearby chair. She proceeded to fold the bed into its former couch position then dressed herself. In the bathroom she combed her hair, pulled it back from her face, then brushed her teeth vigorously. Because her bag was packed from the night before, she quickly grabbed it and stealthily stepped down the stairs to the basement entrance. There, on the front door desk, she used the pen and paper to write a note.
-- Alan, I have left to get breakfast, walk around the city, and maybe shop a bit. Should be back around noon.      –Deb
    Deb went to the park first. It was a long walk and she almost wished she could nap on the benches until a breakfast place opened.  Instead, she just sat and watched the sun rise over the city.  Sometimes it’s nice, staring, drifting between time and space. After a bagel and orange juice, she began her a long walk.  Alan had showed her the shop on one of her first visits to the city. Almost desperate with fatigue, Deb found a clothing store she liked and entered it rejoicing. She left it after several hours of looking and trying on clothes she didn’t really need, but felt entitled to, because it was, of course, vacation.  Alan called her around noon, but she didn’t answer. What was it to him that she went out and had some time to herself? It’s not as if he wanted her there anyways. It was half past two, so Deb decided to head back.  She was in need of a nap anyhow.  When she arrived he was waiting in the kitchen. He asked her why she didn’t pick up his call. She told him that she hadn’t heard the phone ring.  He bought her respond, barely.
    She was to him someone to look after for a while.  She knew this.  Alan was exactly what she had needed.  Before they began, she had told him of what she wanted.  And being the man in need, he signed up, knowing that the match was short lived.  They both satisfied the hungers each felt.  Hungers, which came from very different places, but hungers still the same.  She needed him, and he needed her.  Therefore, the match worked.  After a time, the excitement had worn away, like most immediate concerns, and they each in their own specific ways, began to resent one another.  Mostly this was initiated by Deb.  She was a complex being, and she liked to think so too.  Alan came from a world of breaking history and modern luxury. He grew up without parents, raised by the nanny. He craved genuine love. And this being so, created love at every turn. He was a social master, whom everyone loved, well at least liked. Alan was a favor man.
Deb was raised in the thick of a transition. She was the child everyone loved to resent. Smart they fled to her, looking for approval.  Approval she rarely gave.  Because she was young they hated her pity and shunned her from the comforts of love. The up keeping of the family name is what drove their appeal for her, however, this too began to dwindle with time. 


I am just a bible looking for a fairy ring

Getting Somewhere
It’s taken me a long time to cloak my soul in materials that don’t itch. Even still, the stitches dig.
At last, I fell into the hole and rolled over.
I never took you because, To each his own. We live moment-by-moment dancing on a string. My present mind is trying to stifle back a scream.
It’s a long way home to the way things were before and they’ve lost my passport. Therefore, I follow the wind, and by God I’ve reached the end.
Get out the world’s too heavy here. It’s been eight years and I’ve lost the ability to cry at night, even in my dreams.


One Country, One Uniform
I remember my service. Think of the uniform, yes, that’s all I needed,
resembling everything
You wish you could be, if your apathy did not consume you.
I am your Soldier. Devoid of any humanness. Here to save your Humanity.
It would take some kind of miracle to get you to understand. We don’t do it for You, that’s what you’d like to believe. No, this uniform is driven by what you’ve said it should be. The uniform is really desperate, lonely, and cold. We contain a corrosive nature, too proud to strip down out of this clothing you’ve chosen for us. Because if you were to see the naked skin hiding underneath, you’d faint in disbelief.
Eagerly hopeless, rings of a flesh eating virus, the same mortal wound you carry.

Who was Your Daughter?
Silly they locked her in the box. Now she floats down the river. Up. Down. Bobbing. Unfortunately, Susie Lou, she’ll float right up into the hillside. What goes around comes around.
What will you do now that she’s gone?
Keep telling yourself to be proud of what you’ve done.
Did that box come for free?


As for Loving a Psychopath
I went to you looking to live without a frown. Get over it, you yelled as I passed out in the corner. Haze. I believed in being meant for. Looking forward. Persisting, finding myself looking at glass. So I went to bed with you looking for glass. I believed in being meant for.


For My Brother
Grass never frowned under our feet. We were one another.
I frowned at your scars on my knees. I don’t need another means.
Over my head. Over my head. We long to be shaken, you and me. Awakened.
To our own release.
Now dressed up in uniform we kiss the crowd with our arms wide open. Aren’t they so proud? As we float away from feeling.
You know where to find me lying years from here. Maybe we can settle to share some tea or a soda.
I’ll follow you for as long as my soul can reach. I know you can see me. Watching the tree fall in the background. Searching for you,
I met another. Going to where you are.
It’s time we yielded our given. To stop searching for another means.
A one another. Lying so near now, but where have you been? Why do you keep run? You ask me. I run to find what has always been lying so near. Why? I am selfish and
The meaning of every others words has lost their solution. My pride cries because my feet won’t hold up. And there’s the uniform, what they love to say(see). Even if the pain kills, that’d be in the backfire. They want to give us a six feet shoulder, making us stronger. May that shoulder fall, ultimately together, roots always twined. Degrading dissolution, Yankee Bowl War, ceasing to fill the unwanted cup. Christ, we save these grave actors. Each one consuming and patching each other up. Bursting our own limitations. Know who you are, mine and the same. Tell our truth to everyone.
One another, we plug along.
Never felt more alone. I look good tonight.
Hold the crown, you please them. Never telling, you, we, all stink of fear.
Find the dimes we found and throw them out. A strange piece of mind, Sharing one another.

" 'My Honourable Master, in the olden time, before the creation of man, all the Gods were living peacefully together in an upper world behind the vastness of the stars. The God of Gods was their father, and knew what they did not know, and did what they were unable to do. He kept for himself the divine secrets that existed beyond the eternal laws. During the seventh epoch of the 12th age, the spirit of Bahtaar, who hated the great God, revotled and stood before his father, and said, 'Why do you keep for yourself the power of great authority upon all creatures, hiding away from us the secrets and laws of the Universe? Are we not your children who believe in you and share with you the great understanding and the perpetual being?'" "The God of Gods became enraged" and they were all fucked.

";I shall perserve for myself the primary power and the great authority and the essential secrets, for I am the beginning and the end'"


Faith,
Capitalism,
Socialism,
ism,
your best friend,
your father's whore.



Burn to Shine.  flavor of the day.

Night had fallen and silence prevailed while life slumbered in the City of the Sun, and the lamps were extinguished in the scattered houses about the majestic temples amidst the olive and laurel trees. The moon poured its silver rays upon the silence of the night, guarding the gods' temples and looking with perplexity toward the towers of Lebanon that sat bristling upon the foreheads of the distant hills.


Give us the perfect design, how could you fuck this up? Oh Wonderful,  Counselor?? Where did you go wrong? Perception, you aborted your baby. Look how they drown in the Hell you created. Omnipotent, how could you lose the race, did you not  create it and these regulations? Help my intentionally limited mind.  When will it be time for you to step up and be a man? Oh wait,....,it's all a mystery. How could the man inside not run for his Life? it would do no good now that you're with him. I don't know where the dark begins and stars are letting in, light of your joke. Sunbeams in, Man.


Where's the whiskey river, so we can breathe. all the way into the purple monster, balls strapped to the table, just to claim our steps and postpone pulling the forks out of our backs..

So as I pack for college, I am going through a ton of old papers. I am of course a known packrat. Well, as I was "cleaning out the closet", I came across an old spiral notebook with a ton of writing in it. It took me quite awhile to remember when I had written all of it. But on one of the pages I mention that I am fourteen, so there you go. I'm pretty sure that this was the 2nd semester of my freshman year in high school and continues on until my breakup with Michael. I can type it all in because it's over half of a 120 page spiral, but some of the things I wrote interested me and I'd like to hang on to, just for reference. I find it interesting that I was so dramatic, and the fact that not much has changed. I found that the reason my heart gets crushed so much is because I so desperately wanted to be loved. I wanted to love and be love so badly. There is one page that I know I wrote in the eighth grade, because I remember writing it in algebra class. I guess I'll begin there.

"Myselves"
When I look into myself, I see two identities, two people. One I know, but the other is a mystery. She looks familiar, but is a stranger. I try to reach out and touch her, but the self I know constrains me. This self drowns me with its familiarity. I dare to breath, to take that chance, but I know I'll never make it. The weaknesses in this self hold me down. I know that the stranger is a part of me. Could she be me without my past? Could she be me in the future? Or could she be the person I want to be? I cry because of m struggle to reach. This self I know is what everybody sees. She is what they think I am. But is she? Or am I more? Confusion consumes me. I lay awake at night in thought. Why is blurry not clear? Why can't I see? Maybe, I am not suppose to know. In bursts of air, I can feel her reach the surface, but sins of the past suffocate her. Will I ever be set free? How can I be trapped in my own mind? Why does it seem like everything is turned upside down and inside out? I want her. I need her, but she may never come. It is a journey. I must endure to ever know her. Damn. Self-discovery!

Answer me this: Why is it so hard to show yourself? Not your body or what's around you, but what's in your head, what you're thinking. For some this is easy, but in my case not. I know that I'm "not alone" as society like to tell me, that there are others that "can help and relate". But can they? Do they really know me? Have they ever walked in my shoes, with my circumstances, and my mental thoughts? No. Have they experienced my life through my eyes? The answer is again no. Yes, they actually by some God driven miracle help me, but the only one who can help me is myself. I am truly on my own and by myself. Me. and only me. I know myself pretty well since I've been with me for the past 14 years, and am learning more everyday. I know my weaknesses. One, being that I can't share my feelings or past. Why? I don't know. It's probably some deep psychological reason from my childhood. I know that I need lots of attention, but I like to be alone. I know I have a temper. That, I get from my father. I have a deep craving for others to love me. Not for others to like me, but care for, and be there for me. But those who already love me, I push away. All these are a part of what make me, me. I remember,

INTJ

<table width=350 align=center border=0 cellspacing=0 cellpadding=2><tr><td bgcolor="#EEEEEE" align=center><font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif" style='color:black; font-size: 14pt;'><b>You Are An INTP</b></font></td></tr><tr><td bgcolor="#FFFFFF"><center><img src="http://images.blogthings.com/whatsyourpersonalitytypequiz/intp.jpg" height="100" width="100"></center><font color="#000000">
The Thinker
 
You are analytical and logical - and on a quest to learn everything you can.
Smart and complex, you always love a new intellectual challenge.
Your biggest pet peeve is people who slow you down with trivial chit chat.
A quiet maverick, you tend to ignore rules and authority whenever you feel like it.
 
In love, you are an easy person to fall for. But not an easy person to stay in love with.
Although you are quite flexible, you often come off as aloof or argumentative.
 
At work, you are both a logical and creative thinker. You are great at solving problems.
You would make an excellent mathematician, programmer, or professor.
 
How you see yourself: Creative, fair, and tough-minded
 
When other people don't get you, they see you as: arrogant, cold, and robotic</font></td></tr></table><div align="center"><a href="http://www.blogthings.com/whatsyourpersonalitytypequiz/">What's Your Personality Type?</a></div>

An Acrylic Day

It's hard this Cosmopolitan city. With two lips, one mind I think about you Mr. Blue Eyes. Oops, a different arrangement, a lost connection. I've got teenage nail polish in my nose. It's purple. Sing passion of the mountains in those pictures you sent me. Dawn is always here. It's perfect the way these spandex pants cling to my legs. Pinch me I might bleed green. Stop your fingers from quaking, it makes me want to dress up for you. You speak a language I never spoke, only in my dreams. Technology is an amazing thing. It transports you to my brain. Brings you to a place where I can gaze at your eyes. Mr. Blue Eyes. Wouldn't it be fun to dance to an accordian. You speak the language that makes me so shy, but you don't look the part. They say. They say.


(an I read back over a stream of consciousness writing and find it sounds like I just discovered some great porno) yey?

Did you know I might want to be a doctor? I think. I might be ridiculous.
Did you know I hate Bright Eyes? He's a complete dick.
Did you know I was bought an electric blue crochet hat today that makes me look like a mushroom-head and I love it to bits?
Tidings of comfort and joy.
I miss Ari and Christina like I miss mint ice cream.

My tastes are changing again. Or maybe it's a balance of old and new. I am beginning to be drawn to bright colors. Weird I know. Two sections exist. One brown and green, the Earth section. And the other purple, green, even orange. The Outer Space Section. But hey, all eco-friendly, and somewhat sweatshop free.

I have discovered that I might be the smartest person in the world. Unintentionally of course. Rather, I might be just damn lucky.
I think I might want to start a hospital or clinic somewhere. I want to start a school. I want to build a clean water system. I want to plant trees. I want to splash in the rain. I want give a diamond earring to someone. I want to draw. I want to scream. I want to change the left behind. I want to create.

Iam at the end and I see the rope. Please make it tight, I don't want to swing.Don't be rude. You talk of Jesus. Why even try. Drop dead. Crawl back to NY or some city. And I will choke on this nifty rope. And go in peace. I left my gloves at your house. Take them and become a better man. I lose my ID. But so what. So ladeda. Come on now. I've let go. Spin me around. I was given a blind fold and told to follow. And when I called out your name, you had left. Blind fold gone. I can see. I touched my face and found. Two lips and one mind. Look a bunny in the sky! Those chairs are made of cotton candy and there's coffee everywhere. Silver kisses fall from the clouds. I can be a mermaid with pink hair and golden teeth. It's so beautiful the children here. Of all colors. Like a drug they run through my veins. Their laughter intoxicates me. I spin and spin and the bold colors blur into happiness. It rains droplets of light. My heart cries out. Thank you.

This life will be my life. Year of the Dragon.

Tom Petty-
She grew up in a Indiana town
Had a good lookin' mama who never was around
But she grew up tall and she grew up right
With them Indiana boys on an Indiana night

Well, she moved down here at the age of 18
She blew the boys away, was more than they'd seen
I was introduced and we both started groovin'
She said: "I dig you, baby
But I got to keep movin' on
Keep movin' on,"

Last dance with Mary Jane
One more time to kill the pain
I feel summer creepin' in
And I'm tired of this town again

Well, I don't know but I've been told
You never slow down, you never grow old
I'm tired of screwin' up, tired of goin' down
Tired of myself, tired of this town

Oh my my
Oh hell yes
Honey, put on that party dress.
Buy me a drink, sing me a song
Take me as I come
'Cause I can't stay long

Last dance with Mary Jane
One more time to kill the pain
I feel summer creepin' in
And I'm tired of this town again

There's pigeons down on Market Square
She's standing in her underwear
Lookin' down from a hotel room
The nightfall will be coming soon

Oh my my
Oh hell yes
You got to put on that party dress
It was too cold to cry, when I woke up alone
I hit my last number
I walked to the road

Last dance with Mary Jane
One more time to kill the pain
I feel summer creepin' in
And I'm tired of this town again

Blue Ribbon Eyes                                          Snake Song
                     
I wish I could be                                               He lied when he laid
In North Carolina                                            He lied when he kissed a poor, lonely miss                                        
Lying under the trees                                      With a down trodden babe
You and me, baby                                            He lied, oh, he lied to me
Birds flying by                                                    He lied when he tripped
Looking into your blue ribbon eyes               When he broke, when he ran
                                                                             With the shirt on his back and the money in his hand
Driving to Hamlet                                              He went down on his belly
You said, matter of fact                                    And he slithered 'round the floor
That you'd always love her                              Should've known better
And none after that                                            Always done it before
I swallowed big tears                                       And he laughed
Under pretty blue skies                                    Always do it some more
                                                                              He lied, oh, he lied to me
Memories of love in your                                  He lied when he kicked
blue ribbon eyes                                                When he broke with a shout
                                                                              Then he took me by the hand and he dragged me all about
Why, oh, why                                                       He went down on his belly
Did you tempt my heart with love                    And he slithered like a creep
You, only you, made me believe                     Through the alleys and the gutters
in heaven above                                                 Down the cold, hard streets
                                                                               He said I should've known better
Now I know there's a hell                                  Said I, yes, I, oh, I should've known
'Cause I'm burning inside                                 He lied from the start when he stole my heart
You smiled and you kissed me                       He lied, oh, he lied to me
Strong arms held me tight                                He lied when he switched
We laughed in the meadow                              When he broke with his teeth
You called me "first prize"                                  Then he brought this fruit and he laid it at my feet
I'll never forget your blue ribbon eyes              He went down on his belly
-Eleni Mandell                                                      And he slithered up a tree
                                                                                He wiggled and he hissed
                                                                                When he kissed my cheek
                                                                                He said I should've known better
                                                                                What a feral beast.
                                                                                    -Eleni Mandell

"A Boy with a Beard and Blue Eyes"

He asked if I could take my sweater off. I told him a flat no.
"Why not?" he asked.
"To touch me is to fall in love with me."
"And why wouldn't you want that?" He laughed.
We lied down on my bed. His arm rested behind my head.
"I'm just tired of falling." I said.
"No. You must not know love then. To love is to soar." I let him finish, words, motions and all.
"I do too know love. Love is to be reborn."
I stared through his blue eyes.
"It is touching souls. It is to look and know every curve of their body and angle of their person with fascination and comfort. It is to fit perfectly when you are together and it is to have your heart beat with solitude when you're apart, not because they love you back, but purely because they exist. It is to not know how you could've had a past without them. It is to have a present you never want to end, and a future that booms with dreams and a shared eternity. Love is to stand together, to hold each other. Love is the answer every question."
He smiled at me. "I guess you do know Love then."
I looked at him in his blue eyes and said, "I never want to know Love again, ok?"
Then he leaned his body over mine and kissed me deeply on the mouth.
He stayed in my bed. I slept in his arms. The next morning I rose and kissed him on the forehead. I took a shower and let the air dry my hair. He woke and reached for my missing body. "What are you doing?" he asked.
"Watching you sleep." I said.
"What would you like to do today?"
I replied, "I want to walk on water."
He opened the door for me and we drove to the lake. At the lake, we rolled up our pants and splashed in the water till our toes became numb. Then we spread a blanket over the grass. I lied there, while he played his guitar. He sang of flying birds and flowers that watched them in the sky. He always kissed me like it was the first time; he never pulled on my sweater. I liked that.
A few days later he left on a trip. I missed him. It confused me. Tom came over and tried to fuck me. I shut my door.
When he came back I avoided his calls. I didn't care that I was hurting him. We ran into each other on a sidewalk. I looked at him and he stared at me. I almost passed him when he grabbed my arm and touched my face.
"What are you scared of?"
Because I could not lie, I said, "I don't want to be anybody's but my own."
I walked past him. He shouted to my back, "You're running away, Mandy."
I stopped. I turned myself around to face him.
"Then let me run."
I continued walking. My slow steps turned into a sprint once I left the block where he stood.
It rained all that week.

Joanna Newsom- En Gallop

This place is damp and ghostly
I am already gone
And the halls were lined
With the disembodied
And the dustly wings
Which fell from flesh
Gasplessly

And I go
Where the trees go
And I walk
From a higher education
For now and for hire

It beats me
But I do not know
And it beats me
But I do not know
It beats me
But I do not know
I do not know

Palaces and stormclouds
And the rought, straggly sage, and the smoke
And the way it will all come together
In quietness and in time
And you laws of property
oh you free economy
And you unending afterthoughts
You could've told me before

Never get so attached to a poem
You forget truth that lacks lyricism
And never draw so close to the heat
That you forget that you must eat

-------
Svetlana sucks lemons across from me
And I am progressing abominably
And I do not know my own way to the sea
But the saltiest sea knows its own way to me

And the city that turns, turns protracted and slow
And I find myself toeing the embarcadero
And I find myself knowing the things that I knew
Which is all that you can know on this side of the blue

And Jaime has eyes black and shiny as boots
And they march at you, two-by-two, re-loo re-loo
When she looks at you, you know she's nowhere near through
It's the kindest heart beating this side of the blue

And the signifieds butt heads with the signifiers
And we all fall down slack-jawed to marvel at words
While across the sky sheet the impossible birds
In a steady, illiterate movement homewards

And Gabriel stands beneath forest and moon
See them rattle and boo, see them shake, see them loom
See him fashion a cap from a page of Camus
See him navigate deftly this side of the blue

And the rest of our lives will the moments accrue
When the shape of their goneness will flare up anew
And we do what we have to do, re-loo re-loo
Which is all you can do on this side of the blue
Oh it's all that you can do on this side of the blue
-----------

Only Skin

And there was a booming above you
That night, black airplanes flew over the sea
And they were lowing and shifting like
Beached whales
Shelled snails
As you strained and you squinted to see
The retreat of their hairless and blind cavalry

You froze in your sand shoal
Prayed for your poor soul
Sky was a bread roll, soaking in a milk-bowl
And when the bread broke, fell in bricks of wet smoke
My sleeping heart woke, and my waking heart spoke

Then there was a silence you took to mean something:
Mean, run, sing
For alive you will evermore be
And the plague of the greasy black engines a-skulkin'
Has gone east
While you're left to explain them to me
Released from their hairless and blind cavalry

With your hands in your pockets, stubbily running
To where I'm unfresh, undressed and yawning
Well, what is this craziness? This crazy talking?
You caught some small death when you were sleepwalking

It was a dark dream, darlin', it's over
The firebreather is beneath the clover
Beneath his breathing there is cold clay, forever
A toothless hound-dog choking on a feather

But I took my fishingpole (fearing your fever)
Down to the swimminghole, where there grows bitter herb
That blooms but one day a year by the riverside - i'd bring it here:
Apply it gently
To the love you've lent me

While the river was twisting and braiding, the bait bobbed
And the string sobbed, as it cut through the hustling breeze
And I watched how the water was kneading so neatly
Gone treacly
Nearly slowed to a stop in this heat
- frenzy coiling flush along the muscles beneath

Press on me: we are restless things
Webs of seaweed are swaddling
You call upon the dusk
Of the musk of a squid
Shot full of ink, until you sink into your crib

Rowing along, among the reeds, among the rushes
I heard your song, before my heart had time to hush it!
Smell of a stone fruit being cut and being opened
Smell of a low and of a lazy cinder smoking

And when the fire moves away
Fire moves away, son
Why would you say
I was the last one?

Scrape your knee; it is only skin
Makes the sound of violins
When you cut my hair, and leave the birds the trimmings
I am the happiest woman among all women

And the shallow
Water
Stretches as far as I can see
Knee-deep, trudging along
A seagull weeps; "so long"

I'm humming a threshing song
Until the night is over
Hold on!
Hold on!
Hold your horses back from the fickle dawn

I have got some business out at the edge of town
Candy weighing both of my pockets down
'Til I can hardly stay afloat, from the weight of them
(and knowing how the common-folk condemn
What it is I do, to you, to keep you warm
Being a woman, being a woman)

But always up the mountainside you're clambering
Groping blindly, hungry for anything:
Picking through your pocket linings - well, what is this?
Scrap of sassafras, eh sisyphus?

I see the blossoms broke and wet after the rain
Little sister, he will be back again
I have washed a thousand spiders down the drain
Spiders ghosts hang soaked and dangelin'
Silently from all the blooming cherry trees
In tiny nooses, safe from everyone
- nothing but a nuisance; gone now, dead and done
Be a woman, be a woman!

Though we felt the spray of the waves
We decided to stay till the tide rose too far
We weren't afraid, cause we know what you are
And you know that we know what you are

Awful atoll
O, incalculable indiscreetness and sorrow!
Bawl, bellow:
Sibyl sea-cow, all done up in a bow

Toddle and roll;
Teeth an impalpable bit of leather
While yarrow, heather and hollyhock
Awkwardly molt along the shore

Are you mine?
My heart?
Mine anymore?

Stay with me for awhile
That's an awfully real gun
I know life will lay you down
As the lightning has lately done

Failing this, failing this,
Follow me, my sweetest friend
To see what you anointed in pointing your gun there

Lay it down! Nice and slow!
There is nowhere to go, save up
Up where the light, undiluted, is weaving in a drunk dream
At the sight of my baby, out back:
Back on the patio watching the bats bring night in
- while, elsewhere, estuaries of wax-white
Wend, endlessly, towards seashores unmapped

Last week our picture window produced a half-word
Heavy and hollow, hit by a brown bird
We stood and watched her gape like a rattlesnake
And pant and labour over every intake

I said a sort of prayer for some sort of rare grace
Then thought I ought to take her to a higher place
Said: "dog nor vulture nor cat shall toy with you
And though you die, bird, you will have a fine view"

Then in my hot hand
She slumped her sick weight
We tramped through the poison oak
Heartbroke and inchoate

The dogs were snapping
So you cuffed their collars
While I climbed the tree-house
Then how I hollered!
Cause she'd lain, as still as a stone, in my palm, for a lifetime or two

Then, saw the treetops, cocked her head and up and flew
(while, back in the world that moves, often
According to the hoarding of these clues
Dogs still run roughly around
Little tufts of finch-down)

The cities we passed were a flickering wasteland
But his hand in my hand made them hale and harmless
While down in the lowlands the crops are all coming;
We have everything
Life is thundering blissful towards death
In a stampede of his fumbling green gentleness

You stopped by, I was all alive
In my doorway, we shucked and jived
And when you wept, I was gone:
See, I got gone when I got wise
But I can't with certainty say we survived

Then down, and down
And down, and down
And down, and deeper
Stoke without sound
The blameless flames
You endless sleeper

Through fire below, and fire above, and fire within
Sleeped through the things that couldn't have been if you hadn't have been

And when the fire moves away
Fire moves away, son
Why would you say
I was the last one?

All my bones they are gone, gone, gone
Take my bones, I don't need none
Cold, cold cupboard, lord, nothing to chew on!
Suck all day on a cherry stone

Dig a little hole, not three inches round
Spit your pit in the hole in the ground
Weep upon the spot for the starving of me!
Till up grow a fine young cherry tree

Well when the bough breaks, what'll you make for me?
A little willow cabin to rest on your knee
What'll I do with a trinket such as this?
Think of your woman, who's gone to the west

But I'm starving and freezing in my measly old bed!
Then i'll crawl across the salt flats to stroke your sweet head
Come across the desert with no shoes on!
I love you truly, or I love no-one

Fire
Moves
Away

Fire moves away, son
Why would you say
I was the last one?

Clear the room! There's a fire, a fire, a fire
Get going, and I'm going to be right behind you
And if the love of a woman or two, dear,
Couldn't move you to such heights, then all I can do
Is do, my darling, right by you
----------------
We know for certain, it's a winner's day
my head starts hurting.
Tell my friends when I have kids.
I am going to want the child to be alone.
Mingle in the snow.
Bobby Shaw.    (crase vars, Devendra Banhart)

Delanie made me take this. Quite interesting. Didn't want to post it in my myspace so here:

<table width=350 align=center border=0 cellspacing=0 cellpadding=2><tr><td bgcolor="#EECDB5" align=center><font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif" style='color:black; font-size: 14pt;'><b>What Your Soul Really Looks Like</b></font></td></tr><tr><td bgcolor="#F1DED0"><center><img src="http://images.blogthings.com/insidetheroomofyoursoulquiz/room.jpg" height="100" width="100"></center><font color="#000000">
You are a wanderer. You constantly long for a new adventure, challenge, or eve a completely different life.

You are a grounded person, but you also leave room for imagination and dreams. You feet may be on the ground, but you're head is in the clouds.

You believe that people see you as larger than life and important. While this is true, they also think you're a bit full of yourself.

Your near future is still unknown, and a little scary. You'll get through wild times - and you'll textually enjoy it.

For you, love is all about caring and comfort. You couldn't fall in love with someone you didn't trust.</font></td></tr></table><div align="center"><a href="http://www.blogthings.com/insidetheroomofyoursoulquiz/">Inside the Room of Your Soul</a></div>

Notes:

Sometimes I surge with power. Sometimes I am unable to buckle down my euphoria. Sometimes I feel really terrible. Sometimes I want to go home. Sometimes I hate my body. Sometimes I want someone to love all my faults. Sometimes I don't want anyone to look at me. Sometimes I don't say what I feel. Sometimes I regret what I did...sometimes I wish I was six.

Oceans
I have a feeling that my boat has struck down there in the depths, against a great thing and nothing happens! Nothing. Silence...waves...Nothing happens? Or has everything happened and we are standing now, quietly, in the new life. -Juan Ramon

LEAP.....

If the sky FALLS hold up your HANDS. -Spanish Proverb

My heart carries...
Loss and letting go of my ache. It can feel so dumb and pointless and so sad and real other times. I feel
      1. Shaky
      2. Red
      3. Worried
      4. Sore head
      5. Spinning Eyes
      6. Sick with Doubt
      7. Exhausted
 This I believe is my way to healing...
     1. Tell the Truth
     2. Be brave on the Rocks
     3. Cry in the Sun
     4. Let go gently
     5. Find my way back Home
     6. Question Power
     7. Find a new View
AFTER...
I don't like how afraid my hands are to be empty...

What makes me happy...listening to children explain, honey on anything, soft old hands saying "you'll be okay", letting myself truly cry, showering, stretching, praying, watching the leaves let go of the trees in the wind, gratitude, sharing old things.

What I really want to say is, could you come and play with me around the blackberries and dipping sun. Gold on our faces. Creasing, smiling eyes. Could we grab hands and run dashing to the lake in gusts of laughter and blushing? I believe that loving fearlessly is the bravest thing in this world. (Anonymous)

I want more...my heart is holding back. If I did it all over again I would show you...
My body remembers...

I want to hear Jazz with my eyes closed, and dig my toes into the sand dancing. I want to climb to the summit and yell and sleep under the stars. I want to laugh my head off and play marbles and sleep in and eat croissants in bed with butter and marmalade. and spill coffee and wear lace and trip holding your hand because I'm listening so closely.

We want these answers-these solutions. We try so hard. We wait. I am feeling these days like those tangled parts are the most interesting parts. The tangled unfinished parts are what I want to know about in others. The spaces between. *Like*         I am not a finished product. Maybe it comes full circle. I look at what I feared in me, What I can push so far away from--today I am willing to see this happening to hold these contradictions and just let go.

I want to create a family that is...

Worries I've had
1.Tangled hair
2. Losing everything I love
3. Fires
4. Abandonment
5. Being yelled at
6. Being made fun of
7. Not being able of "handle if ALL"
8. NO IDEAS
9. Disappointing someone I love
10. Not being funny enough
11. No being brave enough
12. Not being beautiful enough
13. Being very lonely
14. Mean/t tricks
15. Tricks


The True and the Questions ...

I had to clean out all my papers today, because my grandmother and aunt are coming in for a funeral this weekend. I found a lot of old things that I had written. Some even date back to my Micheal days. I threw a majority of it away, thinking that those words are irrelevant now.  I did, however, stumble upon two things that I thought I'd already put in my notebook a long time ago. Apparently not. I found one paper that I'd written in Biology class a couple of days after seeing Patrick in New York for West Point's football game. There, I discovered that he had cheated on me, but by this time we weren't "together" anymore. I tried to hate him then and forget he ever existed. There is another page about dreaming that my children spoke to me to forgive him. Very weird. That one has been put away.

"I know I love because I do not hate. I'm frustrated. I worry that he might be living a double life. When I am with him, I feel like myself, more so than I ever do anywhere else. I hurt because I feel like I'm being lied to, betrayed.
I was thinking on the plane and realized that if you ever have to convince yourself of something, you probably shouldn't be. All this time, I had to convince myself that nothing had happend, that he wouldn't do such a thing. I look back at things I wrote, the way I felt. I had every reason to feel that way. And it angers me because that whole time I kept faith in him. And maybe that's what I was supposed to do. I love him still and that kills me. He is a disappointment. I guess I'm meant to be cheated on. He was supposed to be different. Now I feel as if everything is tainted. I never wanted a tainted love. Maybe it's not tainted love, but tainted trust. My heart breaks because I made the decision to make myself vulnerable to him. That's the only way to truly love, I think. Everyday I fought the part of me that wanted to doubt him and reject him. Why am I so loyal? Not just to him, but to everything. I don't understand why it's so instilled inside me. Maybe that's why I get hurt so often. I am a child. Probably will always be one. I've been told I have an old soul, Whatever that means. But it's like I contain this old soul in a child's mind. I'm so ignorant and blind. The more I see the more I want to cry. I hate this world.
My thoughts on contact: I don't like the word evil, or sin. I believe in 'against our nature'."

My page ends there. I guess I never did finish my thoughts on contact. I think it's interesting that, at least in my relationships, everything that I want in return I put out. If I want loyalty, I become incredibly loyal. The way that I am reveals what I want. Makes sense though, "Treat others as you would be treated", that whole thing.
The next one kills me, but I feel it was an important moment. I can remember writing it. I was waiting for James to get done with lacrosse practice. It was an hour before Patrick and I broke off the title of boyfriend and girlfriend. The week before, my dad had threatened to kick me out of the house. Tensions were high. I remember crying as I wrote it and would have given up anything just for Patrick to be sitting next to me. I knew that he was going to break up with me, but for some reason it didn't matter because, well, it just didn't. Serenity was all I could think about when I thought of him.

"I don't think I've ever loved somebody this much. He means the world to me. I want everything for him. And inside me are so many feelings. I want to be his mother, his lover, his friend, his sister, his child, his only. I have completely given my heart over. Right now he is far from me and I miss him terribly. It makes me say and do crazy things. I promised him that I would take this time apart and learn about myself; I just never expected to feel so alone. He came for a visit and I thought my heart was going to burst with happiness. When I am with him the world stops. Everything feels like a dream. For once I feel free. I could spend forever in his arms. Beside him I know exactly who I am. He doesn't define me; he makes me find myself. I love him for all that he is. I love him when he smiles, when he makes faces at me, when he touches me, when he stares at me, when he speaks, when he gets angry, even when he's sad. And I've found that I love him even more when he gets mad at me. With others I would shut them out or ignore, but with him there is something different. At the moment he doesn't want to talk to me. That breaks my heart. I'm not frustrated or angry with him, however. I want to give him time. I want him to feel better, happy. My love runs so deep, if he decided that he did not want me, I would not hate him. I could never hate him. I want what is best for him and though it may come to be that I am not good for him, it would hurt, but I would accept it. I would never love again, like I love him. He is a light burning in my soul. He makes me recognize all that is good. He is lovely and beautiful and human. He has opened my eyes to the world of true love, where the ego dies within yourself and you truly lay down your life for another."

What happend after this was five months of continuous deception. It coated everything I felt with loathing. And eventually a connection broke. I stopped loving him with all of my heart. But it wasn't all my fault. I came to him and told him why I hurt. He didn't want to change. He couldn't even tell me anything. So I retreated and he didn't care. I retreated and retreated until I could no longer come out from my cave when he called on me. I shouldn't have to protect myself. I should be able to love him freely, but I can't. Circumstance doesn't allow it. And though we are going to be very near for the next 3 years, I won't go running back to him. If there is a relationship to be had between us, we must start from the begining. I don't know if it's possible, but I know that at some point I'd like to try. Right now, I can't really imagine anything to do with him. I need time to break off all the animosity I've built up over these months. Even the unthinkable promise of commitment wouldn't bring me back, because it has become much more complicated than that. I have to stick by what I believe is right. I won't lay down my pride, if what I give isn't respected. That's just stupid. I did it over an over and he continued to piss on me. I know I wasn't completely in the right, but communication was all that I needed. I can't force him to grow up, just like he can't force me. My only fear is that by the time things come around, I'll be too far gone to even care. I don't want that. I still feel everything I felt when I wrote that page above, but crap because the focus. Thus is Life.