Towers

Shit,

it could be a whole different level of profound,

if you were willing to let it.

Just give me an inch,

I swear I'll never ask for a mile.

775

I hope I didn't ruin a friendship.

Not that it's at all actually about me,

but I still feel just a twinge responsible.

Today,

I walked down the street

with my keyboard

under my arm

playing

pre-recorded ballads

and the jaws theme song.

I sat on a bench

and played set beats

and tried to think of rhymes.

I walked past several

fancy restaurants

and I think,

made several dates

memorable.

Being sad or stupid.

So,

my melancholy went over the edge tonight,

and I cried most of the way home.

I really hate crying.

It started as one tear

while listening to a song

about a girl named Stella,

and turned into this fairly uncontrollable

moderate sob

with the occasional self-muddled

"why are you doing this?"

I rolled down the windows,

so the freezing air might

dry my face

before I got home

But,

my mom just walked in the door

and asked what was wrong,

and I told her "nothing",

and she stood there,

until I could almost feel the tears again.

After the second "nothing",

she knew.

"You just like him a lot don't you?"

Also-

My heart has been extremely heavy lately.

I wish I had a hand to hold.

Karma

So,

a man, who we at the shop,

have come to become quite irritated by,

took, and later tried to purchase

evangelical literature

that we acquired

completely dishonestly

with a sob story and proper capitalization.

After we told him they weren't ours to sell,

he went to the bathroom, and

(although I think it's unrelated)

pissed all over the toilet seat,

and didn't flush.

I cleaned up that man's piss.

I guess that's what you call Karma.

re:

Am I just a replacement

for a regret?

David Blaine type shit.

Last night,

while a priest was speaking

of his missionary work in Venezuelan Barrios,

I was showing a little girl

a coin trick.

I had her guess which hand

the coin was in,

when she was wrong,

I pulled it from behind her ear,

and told her that she had it

the whole time.

She was astonished,

to say the least.

But- I played it off as nothing,

when,

in reality,

I was just as amazed as her.

Posthumous Valentine's Day Post

Two Valentine's days ago,

I donated blood,

and had it sent

special order

to Children's hospital

because I have

a rare blood type apparently.

It was quite the epiphany,

a realization that

my crummy singular attitude

was vastly out of perspective.

Last Valentine's day,

I went on a date.

My first blind date-

hell, my first (and only since actually)

DATE.

He was a tall, metal kid,

with black hair as long as mine,

and about a half dozen facial piercings.

We went to Rocky Horror Picture show,

the lingerie special.

I wore a sweater.

He was nice enough, I mean,

he bought me a glowstick.

It was quite the epiphany,

a realization that

my crummy singular attitude

was vastly out of perspective.

Yesterday,

my blind date got engaged,

and I feel...

crummy?

Variations on a high five.

These high fives

are the perfect

microcosm

for this whole thing.

Frequent,

intense,

jovial.

Yet,

exceedingly brief.

Almost to the point

of intangibility.

For that instant,

the connection

feels like it's all I wanted,

on the horizon of

this greater thing,

this thing that I desire

so badly, nearly to the level

of absurdity.

It's

all

right

there.

But,

it's a fleeting instant,

immediately falling

back into the realm of

just friends.

Falling

Tonight I laid on a frozen lake,

ear to the ice,

listening for any signs of movement.

I closed my eyes and listened

to 120 beats,

I figured that's

twice the speed of time.

I caught a man

who was falling,

but was then told to let him drop,

and I said

I couldn't.

Bees

I don't have the heart to tell you...

but your lip balm is actually mine.

I left it on the table by accident,

and you thought it was yours mistakenly.

Let her be.

I should not be getting

this morose over

Hootie and the Blowfish

cover songs.

I can't deny that I'm lonely,

but I don't have to bother anyone with it.

I came up with this on a roof.

Love

is

when

the achievement of

another's happiness

transcends

yours.

Therefore,

love

is

sometimes

being a martyr.

Atlas

I have to resort

to the 8 minutes of

sporadic dreams

in the morning

to act how I wish

so desperately

I could.

At least I get that.

*

These coincidences,

are cosmically

insignificant,

but

emotionally

heart-wrenching.

If you're wondering.

I'm really happy.

Don't get me wrong.

And when I see other people happy,

I get happier.

But there is something,

a void,

somewhere.

I have so much

genuine

love

to give away.

I don't ask for it in return-

because giving it

is what makes me happy.

Means,

ends.

Everything.

I may be waiting for nothing,

but I'm certain I don't care.

It's brutally beautiful.

Jack Bow Wow

Found a dog,

well, not me personally,

but close enough.

Picked her up in the snow

with my car.

She was freezing

and wearing a blue vest.

Took her to warm up,

and figure a plan of action,

if she didn't get home.

Made a leash out of string,

then went to the shop,

the first official dog there.

Posted a lost ad online,

and went for a walk,

hoping.

And like,

fate- I guess is the word,

we find someone looking for her.

Apple.

We're...heroes?

Too much caffeine

Lat night

I had a dream

that I was sitting outside

looking into a window.

(It was today, specifically.)

And he rode up on

his bike,

and sat next to me

incredibly close,

so that

our cheeks were touching.

I asked him why,

and he said,

"I want people to know

this girl that I love. "

Then I woke up.

I blame coffee.

50 Billion Years

Drove 100 miles

for a punk rock show,

because I think

solidarity is cool.

Pulled over on some

desolate road,

and climbed to the roof of my car

to look at endless stars.

Yelled.

We're so small,

it's so beautiful.

Holden Caufield Complex

"born in the world not just strongly attracted to beauty but, almost, hopelessly impaled on it"

USPS ptII

So,

my dad just came up to me,

and said:

"I heard you have a secret admirer!"

I explained the

already-used

one cent

upside-down

self mailed card.

"Oh, yikes, sorry"

He said.

USPS

I sent myself

a postcard

with an

already used

upside-down

one cent stamp.

Just for shits/giggles.

I addressed it to myself,

with the text,

"You are so cool,

I miss you!

Love,

Your secret admirer"

To my surprise, it worked.

But-

Now my mom is legitimately convinced

that I have somebody

pining after me.

And I wish I could say,

"Yeah Ma,

I guess some boy is all sorts of crazy for me"

Instead:

"This was just my lame attempt to commit fraud,

I'm still real lonely, Ma"

MAYBE.

Maybe we are meant for each other

because spell check

doesn't recognize

either of out names

as legitimate words.

Fortes fortuna.

Today,

I sat in the bathtub,

in a blanket

and tried to lean Latin

on cassette.

I learned some numbers,

the conjugations of Love,

and then I feel asleep.

I learned about the sun a little too,

I can't wait until the topic

comes up in regular conversation...

I WILL SEEM SO INTELLIGENT.

I wasn't allowed out of the house

because of the snow.

Do you remember when?

If I have kids ever...

I want them to be able to say;

"My parents were(are) really cool."

That's, rather secretly, a huge goal of mine.

Adventures and laughter forever.

Homo Milk 69

My life is currently

a completely chaotic

wonderful unknown.

Sitting in a laundromat,

with a boy,

a bag full of mirrors,

and a strange urge to puke.

Bliss.

Things I need or want.

Need a steaming cup of confidence,

and maybe a little less inhibition.

Need to stop comparing myself

to people I barely know.

I am not (will never be) her.

She (No one) is not (Will ever be)

me.

Need to appreciate things for what they are

when they are,

not-

what they aren't

or may never be.

Want to feel beautiful.

Want to say "I love you"

to someone, once,

and see what that's like?