new is good.

we started packing today.

i am excited.


two, five, seven.

i am ridiculously tired and my thoughts are not processing normally and i would really like to just calm down and maybe think in more complex functionings but i can't really, not now, the sentences are all running together with terrible punctuation and i'm not noticing because i am so goddammed tired and so afraid to stop because if i stop maybe everything will stop and i will not be able to exist anymore

and how would that go over
not well

i am tired but i am more awake than i ever may be.



weeping willow

i must confess; i'm all to pieces.


fuckin puppets

dear little kids,

thank you so much.

all my love.

[i have learned so much,
and i am awfully happysad.]


for now.

it tasted like honeysuckle and the salt from tears.

for now are the words that haunt me, for now, for now.
because it is the truth, for now.
but later?
later is when everything may just fall apart.
but for now.

i really am sorry.



i took that dream out with the garbage today

i hope for the sake of the ozone layer that it is biodegradable


broken arrows

the sun went down, and with it the love we found
that's the way things are sometimes

(most of the time)

where would i be without my music and my friends?
it's cliche but it's the truth.


background noise.

everything is noticeable and dark once the sun is hidden, yes? you can see right through the trees out to the flowers growing around them. honeysuckle wraps itself desperately, clingingly, to the dead fallen trees and grows, sweet to taste and strange to touch. living here is only so long. living always is only so long, so unbelievably longer than you thought and yet you snap your fingers and where is the question.

maybe tomorrow will show a little more promise, the tomorrow that is today. maybe there is something singing in the trees. maybe the grass will feel like sunshine instead of coals. they are the same temperature but the texture makes all the difference.

i think everything is okay.
i also think that everything is going to be roughly the same forever, even though everything always changes, but it's all going to change in a way that keeps everything feeling so the same. so the same.

i feel like maybe sleep is necessary in this situation.



hey, man
my cat hates water/the way i love you
with an askew view
of the world;
in an
"i need it, but i
can't let it touch me"
sort of way.

(yay for writing poetry in the shower.
and remembering it.)


we start today.

it is so reassuring to know that there are other people out there.
and everything is not always going to be the same.

as scary as change is, a change of scenery will be delightful.
new faces, new loves, new ideas, here i come.

(but i will not leave you, my home.
no, no, no.
i can't leave you.
because i carry you inside of me.)


so many

freewriting but typing. (usually i write this out first, but i am going to type and see if it changes anything.)

my face is becoming a portal to tomorrow and i am afraid. i am afraid of what you are holding in your hands, it is change and am i not well aware of that. holy hell and holy god in heaven i am shaking trembling inside of myself, and you can't even see my one single rip in my cheek. where. that is the true question, a question of where. maybe of why. i always thought it was why but now i am thinking maybe it is a where, where do we feel happy and sad and alone and at home. i think it's silly; the concept of home. i think semicolons are ridiculous, too. but seriously, where is home? nobody grasps it for the longest time, i think. you can buy houses, oh, you can buy houses. big ones at that. i have a weakness for big ones, southern style, with balconies and porches and basements, brick or white, particularly. but just because it's beautiful and some catch my breath doesn't mean it's home. all i want is a library. that was my goal when i was younger - a house with a library, and maybe a music room, filled with instruments. but i am going to become what everyone else becomes out of their high hopes, and my library will be a little office with a few books in it and my music room with be my living room with a small electric keyboard instead of a baby grand. but i will take the grandeur and donate it to the starving children, right? i hope so.

the future is scary, sure, but it's the present that i'm becoming afraid to live in.

i don't know what to do with you, now that you are changing, and i am changing, and you have seen me being me, and i have seen you being different. "and we were doing so well." that's all i can think. that's all i can think, with this. i don't know what to do, i never know what to do, who to say what to, because it's so unimportant once i leave, even though it won't leave me. i can leave you, but you will always, always, always be there.

i can't escape anything anymore. it's all inside my head, all the time. and there is so much. so much. it's so hard to manage. i never bothered to organize it. organise. i want to go to england, so i can spell things differently for fun. organization, organisation. the right way, the wrong way, the same way. i want to speak and breathe and live a different culture so i can learn, so i can see what it is like to not be like this. because that's so important, to live outside yourself.

you don't care anymore about what i'm writing, but does that matter, what you care? you don't have to be reading this. you really don't. and yet i still feel bad, that there are so many words.

night is hopeless, tears are exasperation.

hold me, please? but don't. i don't need someone to help me, no, no, i am stubborn. don't. i take it back. don't hold me. i don't need anything.

i need a backbone.
and i need sleep.

good night, my world, my bed, my ideas.


don't think so much

it's amazing how afraid people are of their own sexuality.

it shouldn't be that embarrassing to talk about.
chances are, most people aren't going to die virgins.
and for those who are, it's not like they don't think about it.

it's a natural thing.

but it seems everyone anxious to avoid the subject, especially in co-ed settings.



"Life has taught us that love does not consist in gazing at each other but in looking outward together in the same direction."



i don't know if i've ever felt so weak.



that lasted for about a week.

i just want those dreams again.

you know.

the ones where i am happy.