it's weird when you hear that someone you have not seen, but were once close to, had been thinking of you. i get this e-mail , and it says, "i've been thinking of you. thinking of those stupid pictures we used to draw in physics.".
that is literally the entirety of the message. 16 words, 21 syllables.
at first, i was happy that someone had been thinking of me for no reason, then, i started to think about physics and how i felt about this person at the time we were "drawing those stupid pictures". i don't remember what they were of, because most of the time i was analyzing everything everything about devynne. i don't know why, i don't know why it mattered.
still don't, not really.
i tend to try to read people, and usually i am pretty good with it. i can read moods pretty well, lies and truth, anger, happiness.
maybe i shouldn't, but it's in my head that i need to. some compulsion (excessive?), a need, to understand how people are the way they are. i waste time doing this though. waste time thinking of why someone said this, or wrote this, or laughed at this joke, or smiled at me this way, or had a tone of anger in their voice, or kissed this way, hugged that way...
see what i mean?
thoughts, too much thinking kills me.
so here i am sitting on this computer for the first time in what feels like months, spilling out my soul, my thought-process, into the empty space of the internet.
---
i miss people i still talk to.
contradictory, no? i mean, how could i miss someone i talk to on a more or less regular basis?
i just do though, it feels like jennifer all over again... where i am losing touch with people for no reason, people i love, and i feel it's me at fault in some way.
it isn't me blaming myself, just how i feel.
---
i used to know what it meant for me to be in love, and i am not going say i don't still know.
i guess that would be a lie. it's just that my definition of love is no longer the same, not since three months ago.
---
i am just rambling. i guess i am just trying to say that i am not okay.
not okay.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Pessimistic Optimism
no, no, no. he thinks. striding from one side of the room to the other he cannot seem to still, quiet, the voices running rampant through his mind. no. no. no.
he knows he has done something wrong, out of place, the words in his mind are trying to remind him. tell him how he got to this place.
he looks around at the walls in the room, the bed with the messed sheets, the woman lying under the thin sheet. breasts exposed, he doesn't know her name. he sees the tattoo of the rose on one breast, the right, and thinks again, no. no. no. this could not have come to this. that woman could not be who he thinks she is.
she also couldn't be dead, and the blood on his hands cannot be hers.
---
walking down the sidewalk, the women standing on street corners look like photographs out of a pornographic magazine. he has seen all kinds, striding the streets late, early, the time doesn't matter. they're always there, floating on the wind, drifting down the gutters that fill with refuse, sludge.
the sewage of the world living on street corners.
he walks past them, they call to him, wearing his shirt and tie. he looks safe. respectable. but, he knows they think, he is just like all the others, a man with needs and desires. the calls unnerve him, in a way they are frightening. some of the grins are partially toothless, some show lips obviously riddled with unnameable decease. one says, "hey, hon, a twenty is all it takes. for sixty, i'll walk you around the world."
the man just walks past, not slowing for the scowl of the woman. not slowing for the others like her, all wearing willing grins, but all alone.
---
the bar.
every night he ends up here, he never drinks anything that would do any damage then what has already been done in his life, short though it may have been. is. he walks to the counter, the bartender just looks at him and turns to the soda machine at his back. "i know, i know," he says in a voice that has a hint of bitterness. of knowing the world just as well as the man himself does, "just a coke. always just a coke. don't you know what a bar is for?"
"i used to know," he says, loosening his tie, a noose. he looks at the bar-back as he walks over over with the glass, sets it down. he wonders about being here. every night he comes, he wonders what makes him return.
he knows he has done something wrong, out of place, the words in his mind are trying to remind him. tell him how he got to this place.
he looks around at the walls in the room, the bed with the messed sheets, the woman lying under the thin sheet. breasts exposed, he doesn't know her name. he sees the tattoo of the rose on one breast, the right, and thinks again, no. no. no. this could not have come to this. that woman could not be who he thinks she is.
she also couldn't be dead, and the blood on his hands cannot be hers.
---
walking down the sidewalk, the women standing on street corners look like photographs out of a pornographic magazine. he has seen all kinds, striding the streets late, early, the time doesn't matter. they're always there, floating on the wind, drifting down the gutters that fill with refuse, sludge.
the sewage of the world living on street corners.
he walks past them, they call to him, wearing his shirt and tie. he looks safe. respectable. but, he knows they think, he is just like all the others, a man with needs and desires. the calls unnerve him, in a way they are frightening. some of the grins are partially toothless, some show lips obviously riddled with unnameable decease. one says, "hey, hon, a twenty is all it takes. for sixty, i'll walk you around the world."
the man just walks past, not slowing for the scowl of the woman. not slowing for the others like her, all wearing willing grins, but all alone.
---
the bar.
every night he ends up here, he never drinks anything that would do any damage then what has already been done in his life, short though it may have been. is. he walks to the counter, the bartender just looks at him and turns to the soda machine at his back. "i know, i know," he says in a voice that has a hint of bitterness. of knowing the world just as well as the man himself does, "just a coke. always just a coke. don't you know what a bar is for?"
"i used to know," he says, loosening his tie, a noose. he looks at the bar-back as he walks over over with the glass, sets it down. he wonders about being here. every night he comes, he wonders what makes him return.
his past?
or maybe it's his future playing the game fate is allowed to play.
either way, he thinks, uncontrollable.
---
or maybe it's his future playing the game fate is allowed to play.
either way, he thinks, uncontrollable.
---
Thursday, October 22, 2009
On the Verge
if you could stay
shrouded in mystery
would it be such a shame
to pretend mastery
of these mundane
day to day breakdowns
in communications
and insubstantial memories
of times gone by
when everyone believed
in living lives full of broken lies
counted down from zero
to death and then maybe
absolution on the edge of denial
on the verge of being a hero.
shrouded in mystery
would it be such a shame
to pretend mastery
of these mundane
day to day breakdowns
in communications
and insubstantial memories
of times gone by
when everyone believed
in living lives full of broken lies
counted down from zero
to death and then maybe
absolution on the edge of denial
on the verge of being a hero.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Must Reads?
i have been thinking of doing this for quite awhile and just have been too out of sorts to really think about it...
i'm going to be doing a top-ten thing for the next few posts... more for myself to see how this changes, and how quickly it DOES change. first up, novels. and it will include series. only gonna write anything about the first five of the list.
1. the stand, stephen king
this is one of those books i read (and have only read once) that changed my way of thinking in pretty much every way. it made me see king in a new light, it made me see literature itself differently, and the nature of good and evil is so clearly defined while still being someone... shadowy. hands down my favorite novel of all time.
2. the dark tower (series), stephen king
king's self-proclaimed magnum opus. my favorite series of books of all time in any genre (but thinking about it, how many series of books are there that are not fantasy?). the ending blew me away, the tale was one i felt an attachment to, and the connections with king's other works are astoundingly insane/genius.
3. dragonlance (series)
only the weis and hickman books count here. another fantasy epic, but one that never takes itself too seriously. it has become a sort of guilty pleasure for me to admit loving these books, but they really were my "life after harry potter" novels... started them after reading harry potter 4 and loved every minute.
4. the terror, dan simmons
i read this novel this year, didn't expect much... i have never really been into novels that take a real event and fictionalize them. this though, it was just that good to me.
5. jonathan strange and mr norrel, susanna clarke
another book that i read this year.. the second i read this year as a matter of fact. it was one of those novels i had tried to read numerous times and just couldn't get into, the writing style just bored me to no end. plus the footnotes really bothered me. yet, when i finally managed to get through it this year... i realized how well thought out it was. how much back story was laid out. just everything sort of came together in one package.
6. salem's lot, stephen king
7. bag of bones, stephen king
8. harry potter (series), j.k. rowling
9. shogun, james clavell
10. the strain, chuck hogan
11. invisible monsters, chuck palahniuk
12. insomnia, stephen king
13.drood, dan simmons
14. of mice and men, john steinbeck
15. pet sematary, stephen king
16. the shining, stephen king
so not really a "top ten" i guess, and yes, i think stephen king is the best author of the last 75 years.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Two for Thursday
out of the dark
i called to a memory
reigned in the past
but i left my heart long ago
wasn't even listening
ran so far
from the things i know
before i could see anything
long in the dark
i was wandering
out from the past
to where i should never be
but we kids got lost
along the way
and we never knew
where we were
no,
its not where i planned to stay
but i knocked and got let in
got lost along the way
got lost along the way
so,
i guess we move on
things never turn out
the way we plan
well, this is the world
it doesn't make sense
'til the very end
sold my heart
for the things i own
never wanted anything
sold my heart
and the things i own
never got back again
got lost along the way
got lost along the way
---
when you barred in,
you're so patient
you got it all so worked out
you have it down to a science
but i'm trying not to try
i look like a dead man
flying a kite
'cause it only makes you upset
you tear your dress
just to make these puppets
and that only makes me nervous
i bite my nails
trying to deserve this
i can see where this is going
it's only going to be trouble
i'm such a sucker
for your kindness
i wrote your name in the back of my bible
but,
i'd like to come and go as i please
i'm not worried about the in-betweens
i'm not worried about the things i miss
this ain't that
and that ain't this
lights out when you move
you're the kindest king of cruel
the best mistake
that i've ever took
train me know
i'm a big boy
i can take it
if you want to be in my room
and we can wait for the lights to break
63 bottles that i've haven't seen
train me for lights out
train me for time
it only gets better because you never do mine
so,
i'll take it back when i want to
i'll take it back when i want to
la, la, la, la, la
i called to a memory
reigned in the past
but i left my heart long ago
wasn't even listening
ran so far
from the things i know
before i could see anything
long in the dark
i was wandering
out from the past
to where i should never be
but we kids got lost
along the way
and we never knew
where we were
no,
its not where i planned to stay
but i knocked and got let in
got lost along the way
got lost along the way
so,
i guess we move on
things never turn out
the way we plan
well, this is the world
it doesn't make sense
'til the very end
sold my heart
for the things i own
never wanted anything
sold my heart
and the things i own
never got back again
got lost along the way
got lost along the way
---
when you barred in,
you're so patient
you got it all so worked out
you have it down to a science
but i'm trying not to try
i look like a dead man
flying a kite
'cause it only makes you upset
you tear your dress
just to make these puppets
and that only makes me nervous
i bite my nails
trying to deserve this
i can see where this is going
it's only going to be trouble
i'm such a sucker
for your kindness
i wrote your name in the back of my bible
but,
i'd like to come and go as i please
i'm not worried about the in-betweens
i'm not worried about the things i miss
this ain't that
and that ain't this
lights out when you move
you're the kindest king of cruel
the best mistake
that i've ever took
train me know
i'm a big boy
i can take it
if you want to be in my room
and we can wait for the lights to break
63 bottles that i've haven't seen
train me for lights out
train me for time
it only gets better because you never do mine
so,
i'll take it back when i want to
i'll take it back when i want to
la, la, la, la, la
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)