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painted lines float off the road like steam,
the trees are topped with fog.
restless and
without dreams-
in the darkness small doubts crawl
into the veins,
tearing through translucent tissue.
no acts
without thoughts.
no thoughts
without desires.
things creep unbidden into a boiling consciousness.
as hot liquid energy ricochets!
boosting encapsulated electricity! as the
yawning pink dawn light folds around the
verdant songs of morning, to where
they had arisen, where the
day would place them!
-lonely as wind is through barren fields,
tranquil as stillness is
beneath the breath.
this rising sun ignites the tired mind,
rubs the moonshine from my eyes.
Let the sweet silence pervade,
let it hold the day enraptured,
laced with promise.
(this is my whispered
confession: nothing is in
my hands, i am floating and
wind-torn, thinking at the sky,
the castles are turning to cardboard above
my head while the sea crashes to shore,
obedient, always,
to the will of the moon.)
An incessant pulling
down; there is a silence in sound
i can’t play another note
i can’t stay another minute
if you keep running you will never
be
formed.
if you keep giving you will never
be
full.
through my dream last night a woman
crawled, hissed in my ear:
solace
is not for you, salvation is
eternal damnation, nothing
will ever
be
constant,
and more than that
you are broken.
when i open my mouth to scream she bites my tongue.
—
when i see you all i want to do is chase away all feeling
fuck you for showing up when i least expect you to
here’s to silent, undiscoverable, close your eyes to ward you off, my-
sterious lurking murmur of-
one long year of your looking at me like that is quite
enough, thank you.
don’t
do it, don’t conceive of it, keep
your head above water. The moment you
give in they will hold you hostage!
Today the wind tells you secrets
depend only on your mind.
A crash, an immediate silence, a yawning-
the calm air bathes my thoughts
each night I curl up helplessly in the embrace of your memory
yet every time there is a falling
-out, the ground drops away
you swallow a handful of air
the solid ground ripples and waves
ash like a dry skeleton coats your tongue
wings dipped in wine
try not to drown in the air around your feet.
Every time your eyes meet mine,
this is when I fall
-apart, let’s fall apart and shed our skin
close our eyes and breathe fire in.
days spinwheel into night,
sleepless and bright.
Who let the stars in?
Everything burns
like the salt of your sweat on your lips
(and it holds you
like the wind holds you to the edges of things)
I wish that I had never met you and I wish that I was stronger alone; your words are dark and take on a different tone. Night skies and low clouds exert a pressure on my mind, I search for everything I’ll never find. You’re stringing words like pearls brought up through algae curls; in the buzzing still air you’re lost and can’t bring yourself to care it’s the frost it’s the drum, nothing is there and your fingers tap their bird bone song while you’re waiting for the light to turn green.
I want something from everyone, and everything from someone. Life as I know it hinges on quixotic notions and ways to fill the hole in my soul. Lying in the dark. My breath keeps time with the seconds on the clock, tick tock, tick tock. What am I waiting for?
Loneliness: When you want something from everyone, and everything from someone, but no one wants anything from you
I should stop reading The Anarchist’s Cookbook while sitting in the dark at 2 in the morning. Makes for morbidity…
monday
total cash: twelve dollars and 47 cents
rollerblades
what i did (continuous list): Maude, thelma and louise/jenny and maude, Andrew, fork bracelet, burritos, bars, sleep, central park on saturday morning, latte and croissant, being asked if i was an artist. too much walking, the upper east side, madison avenue, maude has an orgasm in chanel, Andy, skateboard, the east village, head shops and pet stores, union square, virgin records and bargaining for a one-hitter, Reba, beer and pizza fifty stories above manhattan, sharing cheesecake with lee, the bar train, lowell, ritzy hotel room, violinists, playing guitar in lee’s apartment til 5 a.m., woken by lee at 9 a.m., wandering in the rain, driving to union square, st. mark’s place, to nick in park slope, smoking a j in the park, watching 21 grams, amazing dinner, back to lee’s place, snuggling in my car, chasing rum with chocolate liquour, singing along to everything and passing out all over each other, sleep, wake at noon, taco bell, crazy tripping dude writhing on ground, Italian ice, driving aimlessly and lostedly for the afternoon, driving in killer traffic the whole way to middletown, demetri’s, casino, nice boy with nice body, restful sleep, Boston, beauty, no money, running through the fountain, feeling free, writing, garden, Sam, CondomWorld, more head shops, playing in the fountain again, being photographed while sharing an ice cream cone, dan’s place, pineapple and green pepper pizza, harry potter, yay, meeting boy named felix, think rawr, back to sam’s, falling asleep to daria, wake slowly, am slow, smoking with christin, driving forever, terrific storms, lighting my bowl with a match on the side of the road in a torrential downpour, cake’s prolonging the magic, driving, home, sleep, now.
things i need to survive:
water, my friends, Little Blue, money, a place to sleep, cigarettes and coffee, pen and paper, love, sex
I want to make a leash for Tweaklet and take him on walks down in the village. I made him a ladder out of popcicle sticks, but he chews on it more than he climbs it. Also I have been feeding him cheerios sometimes. Watching a tiny little dwarf hamster hold a cheerio in his paws and chew it is probably the most endearing thing I’ve seen in a while. I love me some hamsta.
I know I’m at the end of my rope when I start writing in my journal more than I speak to people. Clinton is definitely my idea of Limbo.
Also I have fixed my brother’s yellow Game Boy, and it is mine. Joy and Donkey Kong!
Also I have been reading the book “Extended Massive Orgasm”, which I found in my hallway during Senior Week. It’s pretty fucking cool.
New York this weekend, then (finally) moving to Boston (!).
What about that moment and a half?
All movements choreographed
In sound and dimming light
The rain falls in rhythm
My mind thrumming afire
Release me
From your world of indifference
Lying in the rain wishing on stars
The brain pumps nostalgia and waves of vertigo
My halo slowly soaking
My wings melt to the ground and I am soaring
All is lost
Drugs are the modern-day Eve’s apple. Economics is so philosophical. Why is marijuana condemned? Any true Christian would have to admit that God put it all here. Is it temptation, or is the real temptation giving in to the social construct? Reality is self-defined. If I can get more pleasure out of drug-induced contemplation and meditation, why on earth would I avoid it because society says happiness is to be found in measured success, material wealth and fickle relationships? You think it’s hippie shit until you try it. Some things are more dependable than people and goals. Condemn it as addictive and sloth-inducing so that you never do try, so that you never have to ask questions. How are alcohol and nicotine legal, while pot and shrooms lead you on a crash course to hell? They’re all chemicals, activators, found in the earth and explored throughout history.
Everything is data stream, at once both infinitely malleable and limiting. We are shielded from the world, and we build over the earth as we clothe ourselves in so many layers of falsity and insecurity that truth becomes untouchable. There is too much to understand, but I am left with this: the feel of dirt beneath my hands, a constant sense of falling in love, empathy and ecstasy, the chaos of consciousness, evolution. Why the striving, the grasping at straws, attempting to be the kings and queens of our carefully constructed social realities? Why, even, the effort? There is no shame in obscurity. Fall in. Nebulous and far-reaching, perfect acceptence, believing in awe and wonder.
I look in, and the sky’s not there. I am submerged and fearless, I could be the eye in your storm and the sunlight after a hundred days of darkness. Will this warm glow fade, or is it a part of me now? Neurons make connections that were never there before. This is solace. Breathe in and exist.
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