oops.

you (11:22:20 PM): i know. i just know how you get sometimes when we dont talk.


maybe you do know :)

gladly

i will stay up for you.

you have no idea how i worry about absurd thigns.

i am just glad you are alive.

"what would it take

for things to be quiet?
quiet like the snow.."

good
simple
and plain
my life is like a geode.
you know what i mean
it's simple, and plain, because it is forced to be that way, and all of the best stuff is kept inside, where no one can see it unless they really crack me open and see what is inside to see.

misconception

i used to think that by not telling the truth
the only thing that could get worse was my lying problem.



how very wrong i was.

well hello.

i'm so awake.


i want to go back
and finish
our conversation.


please.

words.

I have fallen into this downward helical of emotions.
I cannot control those wisps and feelings which slenderly slide past the tips of my fingers and out of my grasp. I have longed to reach but a bit further, to extend my fingers to feel by touch these objects of nothingness which i cannot feel by heart. I have chosen to exploit the kin of others and the tenderness in their beating muscles.

I think perhaps, i have gone dead inside because my body has become outwardly so alive. The activities are etching away at my heart, further proving it to be stone. I am damned. I am damned. I am damned. I think, perhaps i have gone dead inside because externally my body has found joy with an absent mind.

The tissues paper marks, are gliding further than they were before. To the bone I've found a calling, further than i previously knew. At this i am indefinitely drowning on infinitively about the scars of which i've found to soothe, the agony of truth, the truth, the truth of youth.

I am blabbering as a child would when they find the split paint ball struck against a tree. The oily residue dripping slowly and weaving in and out of the lines of wisdom upon the bark, setting a soiled river. The lack of knowledge to asess the situation and the curiousity probing a finger to touch, just a small simple safe touch. Saddening isn't it? To find it was not blood.

scrrrratch that.

if i woudl have known
i didn't have to work anymore,
any longer,
at all,
today.

i would have come to you house.


at 8 am.

instead.

working

at 8am, the night after
a show
was always a bad idea.

i forgot.

i want to come home and have a nap.
i do not even care to attend
and perform
at the other show tonight.

i would much rather, snuggle up
and hold you tight.

still drawing and scanning.

Click and enlarge!

prior .

the ring on my finger feels like lead,
allowing a point for gravity to pull through the floor,
past the floor boards,
drilling through the dirt
and sinking at the core of the earth.

that is the only way this ring will come off of my finger.

ouyssimi.

i miss you.
m aybe it sounds simple but
i t is this entirely complex feeling that
s urrounds me constantly and re fuses to
s et me down.
y ada yada yada
o ver and
u ndeniably out.

underwater photography.

Underwater fashion show in Australia.

Source:http://weirdnews.about.com/od/weirdphotos/ss/UnderwaterFash.htm

school.

I've got the tiniest little migraine, thrumming in my temples. There is a little indian man with a hammer made from stones tapping away at the back of my eyes.
My throat feels likea few grains of sand have lodged themselves against the back of my tongue and my uvula.
My body aches, each bend of a jointlike beding a doll's leg a little too far.

No, I am not hungover.

The lore of this situation is essential to my being. I am minorly sick, again. The ways in which I have most likely contracted this sickness make it not only worth it, but gratifying. I need a vitamin c kick and some throat coat. Then my lovely, i will be alright.


The boys next to me are rather amusing. Nearly cuddling together to bear witness to one computer screen. The study hall attendee became to focused on the vision before her to put an end to their shenanigans with appropriate timing. Books about the BATTLE FOR KOREA and CHINA RISING are among those on the shelf beside me. I cannot remove my eyes from the student crafted scene to my left, the purposeful and the incidental. A lake reflecting a sun, the longing to be at Lake Erie again wisping in my body. The paper on the floor in little bits, reminding me of the arrogance of the place i am.

The crucial nibble of my core is waning away. I am feeling all too vagrant today. Thsi could be a good thing, ever changing and drfting.

That is the life i wish to lead, with you. I long for us to be happy, everywhere. Yet at the same time, i do hope to be secure, unattackable, untroubled, warranted and weatherproof.

there is no way

to tell your mother
that her ex husband,
your father,
the man she despises most,
is far more supportive than she has ever been;

there is not a way
to tell your mother
that you would call your father
whom she resents most
1,000 times over again in an emergency
before her;

there is no way
to tell your mother
that your father has given you
everything, when he had nothing
and that he doesn't get angry
when you mess up
and that he understands
and that you can really just talk to him
on a few mroe levels than you
can to her;

there is no way
to tell your mother
these things
without
tearing
her
ligaments
to
shreds.

I did not find the word supportive a poor choice at all. Actively supportive felt strong too. Excited and supportive. I did not think this was a bad thing to say. I could not stop smiling, because i thought it was so funny that you were so shocked and baffled. I am sorry i floored you. I am more sorry that now you are pouring yourself a glass of wine and having a nap. I am sorry that you did not see this coming, and that i was mildly bemused by your reaction. I did not find the word supportive a poor choice at all.

oops.

ps

i also realized today something may be wrong with me.
once i realized we were in the wrong lane, i didn't say anything.
i didn't react to the oncoming traffic either.

i just sat and watched the headlights come my way.
my eyelids were consistently and meditatively still with boredom across my face.
my blood also stayed very still and my heart kept a steady beat.
in this instance, i felt more calm than i have in very long time.

how atrocious am i?

columbus.

today i was on the top floor of a building
looking out a window
and noticing how outside looked unrealistic. it looked like a green screen, appeared as a movie.

i felt so large, like i was God looking out and down on everyone else, a safe form, the pouring rain.
as i wheeled closer to the window, the outside grew.
the amount of space my eyes can hold filled with the view from this window until it consumed my sight.
i did not like this.

i did not like being closer to everyone else, a world of which i do not exist and have no control over.


i wheeled back to where i had been before, once more enjoying the livid view outside. I could go outside, but why should i? I remained there for awhile and began to understand why God watches, and often remains absent.

i won't lie.

i am
kind of
wondering
if you
will be
watching
now.

bahhh.

i feel like we are falling
to itty bitty
little pieces.

i am trying to tell you,
but it renders useless.

i've inscribed it across my arms
and legs
and hips
and bones

but it's not going through to you.
maybe i need to reach deeper.

fe s rightw.on llam osle

who needs paper?

I've rediscovered my favorite form of lost art.

Off white and red have always looked so stunning together.

dstnc

i feel like the past couple days
you've been really distant.


i don't know why i am so concerned
or so paranoid
or why i'm going crazy inside myself
and it's pouring out of my eye sockets.

i am so scared.

mm.

soy raspberry smoothie.



Plans following through I will be
in Yellow Springs
eatin' pizza
and ahving
a
good
time.

Plans don't follow through, I will be
wallowing
home alone
like a small child
who didn't
get what they wanted.

I despise some of my qualities.
but the smoothie makes up for.

if you say

you hate someone,
i wish you would mean it.



i can't stand it when you say you miss her.

my stomach won't stop boiling.

4 eyes.

(Click to see full-size!)






Scans don't quite match up.

Hmm.. Looks better in person, when you can feel the lace.

Scared Leadless

i don't think you know how scared i get
when we talk this little.

i don't want to to lose this.


ps. i can't stop drawing.

day three.

my soul is old.

it enjoys large glasses and cardigans and shuffle board. My soul lurches at other surrounding souls with big glasses and cardigans and a need to play cards. My soul rejects drinking games and drama, for young souls rejoice over these things. My old soul has found one true love, but feels young about this manner, because it is yet to experience that sort of loss. My soul is wry from experience, but craves it. Our souls, both old and breaking, collide on broken edges to form figures and shapes quite possibly never known to man. We have ancient African roots and desires seen by animals only. The flowers grew about us and our ancient old soul passion. The wind swept across water holes and danced dances which were felt but never seen; these dances live in us. Wild, wild, wild.

Our old souls are alive, in big glasses, cardigans, and Africa.

why

do i feel so alone today?



what

is wrong with me?

why

am i suffering
from this inability
to convey
the emptiness that is
pervading me?

Part One.

"I guess I always feel sad." She said taking another sip from her glass and looking at her reflection. "I suppose talking to you does no good, though I know you will always find a certain level to relate which no one else can stand on.."

Days like these she was utmost reminded of the downward helical of emotion she was constantly barricaded in. The days where there was an abundance of joy in the air. The comical cliche days where there is that nagging, essential need for everyone to latch together in a paradisal and riant 24 hour period and take place in societies juncture that ought to come easily. The days like these were the lowest of the low. They reminded her not only of how she had better feel, but how she cannot muster up enough feeling at all to, well feel at all.

Setting down her glass and taking one more sideways glance at her own enigmatic reflection, before.
A slew and a familiar pigment rises.
Unable to view the distraught and disappointed face peering back at herself, after.

She pondered how a thin breaking of the surface can bring about this much sanity again, how tearing herself apart can bring herself back together. The calm following the storm. The ladder propped against the side of the bottomless pit. A hang dog to go with it and a new found blood guilty, pallid, model of her own yore that remains, constant.

Walking down the stairs slowly, feeling for the rail and crouching on a step she takes a deep breath. "I've forgotten what a smile really is. My lips are nothing more than a drape covering two rows of curtains; double shaded so no one ever really sees inside." Another heavy sigh, with drapes open, the bad kind. "I'm a poet to no one and I speak of my own flaws only to myself. I'm a person of caution and forethought in the most unnecessary times."

A finished walk down the stairs and a resumed position in a chair to begin a fresh ritual. "I suppose it would be better to stop narrating my life as I walk. Poetry consuming the motions, a sweep of a rose against pale skin instead of a kiss on a cheek. Either way, the converses with me are becoming maladaptive." She misses her smile, once lost, now found with an amazing grace brought into her life in the last few months. A smile with a new pull of curtains and drapes never begging to be closed...

swimming

my eyes
pool
and spill
far too quickly.

i drown,
much too much.

how to know you are right.

You cannot know.

When you are young and in love, there is no way to know that you are young and in love.
You have to wait it out. You have to engulf it in proper hydration and see whether the affection grows, wilts, or drowns.
My tolerance is low and my doubt rises higher than the tides. Sometimes i think we are in over our heads, but you know that.

I think..




In my top five favorite songs.