he has reflected on this one occasion,
more like a period in time
physically sporadic 
yet emotionally consistent--
for
him. 


t'was there, never left.


this thought:
A slow drift along the coastline 
bumping up against the ribs 
like icebergs in the Arctic 
slow chiping to the core.


as the ice chips the weight fits the pain.  
time wastes and hurts, all the same. 
A chipped cube melting 
like the emotion settling from the surface, 
and he can't really blame the 
person who's not fairly aware of 
said effect.
his solids turned liquid to fit 
the expansion of senses when she 
up and left his insides-out.
like abstinence from happiness
he refrained from complaints.




Its possible-
a woman, this woman
could, would tear the insides of a foreigner to warmth, 
the raw feeling of fresh flesh to oxygens 
hydration of the meat and bones she'd find 
chilling 
once he was willing.


no candle burns passed the wick
its brightest at its infancy
though quick to fill his gap 
she wasn't fond of consistency.


weather changed
tempers shifted, 
love ridden'
memories lifted 
from forms unsettling 
to nonbelievers.


Faith filled the fanciful soul of that thought.


the thought had a soul from which it's life thrived 
though the thought may sink, alive: may 
be tweaked, twirled tossed, curled to confess a better 
ending. 


Truth be told
young love grows cold the 
elderly not fit 
for fending.

on Academia

School starts soon. Starts school soon. Soon school starts. It happens in every variation and its endlessly inevitable that I will begin the dreaded systematic education that holds me upside down growing invisible tumors around the neck waste and legs thinking I do not belong with such introverts. Extroverts. Verts. The only which I feel in. inverted. verted-in. Into an unsettling shimmy of "I think so's" "I heard once" "I've been told, but don't know so" I can only guess. . I guess so. guessing. guess so. guess.


So I know I wont feel so intellectual when the intellect's not actual
how can I act so, when I know I cannot grip with these tips of fingers that feel through dirt and weeds more than keys and pages. Being part of a system Ive left vacant for some, like I've been given a home and yet inhabit a trailer.
I'm just not there yet. Its not home.

Ive been thinkin up ways to outsmart these shmucks.


I guess so


I think I can


I heard once


I've been told.

should not be the lingo used to do so.

quite lovely

pretty much.

...what I'm into.

Empire of the Sun - Half Mast (Slight Return)

you are everything I want,

its a little intimidating.

Ive been rambling.

I don't plan on sleeping.

love this songggg

"oh, oh, oh honey I need you 'round. I know, I know.."

Thoughts of the near future

I want so many things...
so this is the "look" im going for and can use to describe me, definitely in the fall. Funny, I have all the components, looked like this all last winter and cannot get enough.

hopefully me in the future, definitely with some twists. Very sophisticated, found it off a wonderful blog.

 music is back in my life ♫ 

its like..

a ball
 of
  rubber bands,


 each day one tears.

I have been trying. Lately. To improve myself in more ways than I can explain. There is this void, you see. That no one can fill. I feel carved out and bottomless. Popped balloon spinning. A pinch and twirl, spiraling down.

Strangely, I have also been meeting up with people who used to fill that void, not on purpose, its life. Quite simply.

It hasn't helped..it usually does. Something has changed. Maybe that change is a slight improvement, that will not allow what was once negative, positively fill that void. grew incompatible with time?with.. me?

The taste is bitter-sweet.

I can ponder on forever without direction on this matter. Of love caved in. Of friend-ships sinking. myself left swimming. away,away.

in this sea-sick manner.

I can't stop loving, loving has stopped me from living.

what to do with all the remnants.
the gumdrops, the liquorish.

all the little mysteries locked in glass jars.