29 Jul 2013 - sometimes i make things up

Dear Diary,

Today I looked up engagement rings and ate an excessively inappropriate amount of carbohydrates. The Internet told me to beat a sore throat by gargling whiskey so here I sit cradling a bottle close to my chest as I stare at a beautiful girl on the teevee. She's good at eye contact.  I'm working on that.

The last time I had bronchitis I quit smoking so I could heal. But the cough persisted until I finally got tired of being a quitter and decided to fuck it and smoke one of my coworker's menthols. I also fucked him and smoked his menthol but that's another story.  The cough went away after that. The shame didn't.

I've been trying so hard to come up with beautiful ways to reframe all these not-so-beautiful things. I think I've forgotten what truth means and now nothing is real unless I think of it in the abstract.

Or at least, 'Isn't it pretty to think so?'

I did a lot of drugs today and now I'm afraid to fall asleep

love
me

happy valenstine's

Wandering hearts in hidden pockets

Relentlessly reaching to find
 

One spirit in-kind

One similar mind

One beat in sync

One piece to link

Kindred.

We are the ones who still believe in magic

The space cadets,

the meanderers

We see in feeling and feel in color

Throughout the world we find the others

And amplify our signal

Of Life and Love

YOLO

Should I be more concerned about crossing that line?

Show some restraint

While my love is blind 

When I hear

In my ear

that deep sharp inhale--

You gasping for air

Your composure derailed

How would it be wrong when what we want feels real?

For a night or forever-

I can see that you're clever,
So can you really tell me, in being together

Is Time really the measure for what we endeavor?

Why does Time add value to the things we treasure?

Mm, maybe that's why

I am still feelin' fine

though I can't see that line

That people design

I can understand why, because hearts fall apart

But for now, I don't mind..

'Cause I feel as I feel

Like I did before

Sometimes less may mean less though it may sometimes mean more

I can't tell you the time it'll take me to live,

But I know what I give

And I'll believe what I'll get

Will be ONE HUNDRED ELEVEN times well spent.

In a dose or a session,
in periodic confession

I'll take it all.

Because remember?
you told me,

Time doesn't exist..

At least not in heaven

whackadoodle.

inane
insane
the virility,
our ability
turning profound to profane
net it, regret it
edit, forget it

Ingratiated
insatiated
regurgitated
intentions
in tension
try to place blame
attempts to lay claim
on Beauty, on Love
push comes to shove
everyone's the same

A Draft from 07/10/12 - #happybirthdaystine

Subject: What else..

there are:

things to do
people to meet
places to find
lessons to discover

sights to amaze
emotions to capture
moments to witness
memories to laugh over

dreams to be found
thoughts to be held
ideas to remember
seasons to be felt

words to hear
hearts to feel
melodies to create
songs to heal

dishes to taste
companions to embrace
lives to share
loves to encounter

twenty four years
like twenty four hours

i wonder what's in store for tomorrow
hey you know, it feels like i just got born


______________________________________________
[*Got the phrase 'just got born' from http://justgotborn.tumblr.com/ ala Autostraddle!]

MANIFEST
yo' deeest-iny
stiney
weenie
gotta come clean-y
wit yo'self
then help
will come
from the universe
in bursts
for real

can you feeeel

it 

it's coming 

drumming

hear 

the sound

arounddd.
like

life
is coming
for you

Dream Doodles from Spring-ish 2012

 Where is my mind? [a la Lisa's glass ink pen]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 night Mare [a la Bic's iPad app]                  

but maybe this is home

growing up in a place where the landscape is as meticulously manicured as its residents

(switch?)

romping amongst the fallen trees

like a survivor

we're still all play pretend

'

this world of make believe

40 minutes of unedited internal monologue that maybe i'll go back to edit or maybe just end up feeling like I said too much which I did

We took turns, each of us trying to top the other in rounds of If-I-Won-The-Lottery, driving around Covina, having tried to drive up the canyon only to have been turned around by a policeman because some body was filming some thing, probably a car commercial or a dramatic racing crash season finale, who had decided that our turnout should be the filming location of choice.

I remember being tired and happy enough to not care that I was tired and nuzzling my head into that pillow in front of them. I remember alternating between being all sprawled out with my feet up on the dash and huddled up on my seat with my legs pulled up close to my chest, feeling girly and vulnerable but strangely also secure enough and comfortable enough to not mind feeling that way and also showing it too.

---------------------

There may have been heartfelt proclamations of love towards Lady Gaga and there may have also been Jameson at that point but it might have been some flavored Smirnoff or maybe that was the night with the Seagram Sweet Tea or all of those things or none of those things. She had sang over that one song and it warmed my insides but maybe that was just the drink talking. She sangshouted 'Gaga sounds better with you' and I think I felt warm because I realized it was true.

And maybe since the canyon was blocked off, that was the same night we went to Chatterbox where we thought we got roofied but then later that week I talked to that one girl at work who smiles nice and looks me in the eye and makes my brain kind of mushy and in the end i think i decided that it was probably the L.A. waters that did it or perhaps we had roofied ourselves.

before that part that we forgot, there was a real drunk but also earnest and honest conversation about the three of us and what we meant to each other, like how a year ago in my dark place, she had come and maybe glimpsed it and left me a post-it that said to mark her words she would be back and it had been a year later and she had.

i remember asking no matter what happened between them or them and other people that they keep me around because those fuckers changed my life and maybe even saved me a little bit. i remember our knees touching even though most of the time i feel like she actively avoids contact with me, maybe because this is a bromance that toes a line or maybe because i'm smelly or awkward or creepy or gross or maybe all those things or none of those things but i remember being grateful that she was okay with the contact this time or at least she put up with it because sometimes i can't keep all the needy in and i like the stupid things like that.

---------------------

i remember talking heads on the jukebox that night, if that night was actually the same night that we tried to drive up the canyon to look at the stars and if it was, then that night was also the one i managed to have a drunk but maybe halfway decent conversation with the bartender with the hot back tattoo and the beautiful smile, who i tipped a lot and felt this overpowering need to be friends with.

i vaguely remember her telling me how she used to work on the campus i work at now, at the big hotshot place that maybe einstein and his wife had stayed at with all the other smart people who i imagine discussed atom bombs and string theory, quarks and neutrinos and stuff over coffee and a bagel or maybe eggs.

---------------------

sometimes i feel like i'm on the cusp of dissociating entirely or psychosis even or maybe that i am really actually a sociopath but enough of maybe a regular person to be freaked out by it or maybe this is what a sociopath looks like when they have a lot of feelings or maybe a sociopath that sucks at being a sociopath.

i think maybe i'm crazy mostly but just sane enough to know that i'm crazy and to feel the need to not be myself because maybe i think my crazy is the unacceptable kind of crazy and also because i think this is probably not how everyone else feels all the time.

---------------------

sometimes when i think about happiness, the feeling i get is like i am maybe remembering someone else's feelings because i can understand the feeling but remembering it feels a little surreal and maybe a lot contrived.

if i'm honest though, sometimes in the moments of happy, i do forget myself and don't think of any of these things i'm thinking about right now at all and even if i tried to, i could wave them off real easy but maybe that's how happy works. happiness is really just a solid distraction.

---------------------

sometimes i feel kind of broken, but not always in a sad way, lately more in the way that i think sid's toys from toy story would feel compared to andy's toys and then i wonder in a passive, curious, thought-experiment kind of way if this will ever change, if one day i will just wake up and realize i don't feel broken anymore, where happiness is the baseline and being sad becomes only a thing that incidentally happens to you

---------------------

i feel like i don't have anything to offer to anybody and that maybe nobody really has anything to offer to anybody else except that maybe they think they do and so they go and do it and that makes it something to be offered but i don't do anything so i still have nothing to offer.

i havent been royally fucked up since that night i got arrested coming back from the avalon aside from the ambien i may or may not have been making advantageous use of lately because the haze feels like crawling into a blanket whose scent i've grown familiar with that covers the whole world and makes everything just fine because then it becomes okay to not think about everything all the time and that's nice even if it's just for a little while.

---------------------

i think maybe i am really actually right and that i am a truly sorry excuse for a person and that i am a waste of resources and probably also life but i don't mean it in a sad crying way, just in a neutral that's-the-way-it-is sort of way. which is probably still maybe a little dysfunctional to think but i think that is okay. i think it's maybe okay that i feel this way because i think i still want to live because then i can still see everybody else live and you know what they all tend to turn out to be pretty lovely great wonderful things and i think that maybe seeing everybody else be people is good enough for me.

I'll play your stupid game even though you change the rules every time I start winning. Don't you see it's making you so small and petty, but you keep pushing so I'll keep playing and I'll win and win until one day you stoop to a new low and then I'll tell you, "Look here sir and madam, I'm not going to play your stupid game anymore. You cheated but I kept playing and look at you now, you're covered in slime and you hate me for being spotless. Well, I quit because it looks like you won after all, you've created a face only a mother could love. Make me your trophy you can put on your shelf, because sure as hell no one will want what's left of this."