nothing to do

nowhere to go

i wanna be sedated.

(just get me to the airport and put me on a plane
hurry, hurry, hurry, before i go insane

i can't control my fingers
i can't control my brain.)

i wanna be sedated.

too much

i've reached the point where there are so many things to do that i cannot do a single one. it's pathetic and absolutely necessary.



i look at you
to see me


sleepless nights.

i woke up this morning sad and unwilling. i didn't want to go anywhere. i wanted blankets and warmth and the sleep i'd been attempting to find all night that never really came. i woke up sad and unwilling, and here i am now, a little better. the emotions have been dulled by friends and stark realizations, but i am still struggling with the waking world. mostly because i was forced to stay in it last night when all i wished for was sleep.

i slept, sure, but only enough to get one half-nightmare.

i stared at the ceiling. it was dark and i was dark and everything was falling in onto itself. so much was happening and i just caved in onto myself. i cannot do this alone. i cannot do this alone at all. i cannot do anything alone right now. i am helpless. i am not a child, that much is clear, but i am a helpless, stumbling in-between human being. i wish i could be independent, but right now, all i need is for someone to hold my hand and get me through this. i thought i knew who i was, but all of those ideas are washed away with every new morning. i thought i knew what i wanted, but every time i turn around, there are new feelings. i am destroying myself and simultaneously building myself into who i am meant to be.

what is this language? what is this life i am leading? what is music, what is love, what are words? nothing is making the same sense it used to. i need to wade through cold water, i need to submerse myself in emotion. i need a strong hand to guide me and i need to go out on my own.

"get me a person who isn't me...i don't belong here. i don't belong in this horse race."


the best things come from nowhere

i love you

i don't think you care



i'm terrible at showing affection!
i shouldn't be, for as much as i want it. i long to be touched and yet when i am, i don't know what to do. how to react. i'm terrible, terrible, terrible at it. and i can never initiate anything.

but maybe it is that i am longing for a different kind of touch entirely, from a different kind of person.


i hate the realization, "i loved you. i loved you, but i did not know how to love you."
it kills me a little.

"i love you."
"and i you."

(why can't i just say it?
why am i having such a hard time letting people know i love them?
i am not like this!
i am not a broken person!
no. i refuse to be lost in the ways of affection, to be silent in love.
and yet, i cannot build myself up to do what i feel.)

freudian slip

remember how having my first naked dream was a coming-of-age experience?

well, i almost had my first sex dream, but the plot was complicated and twisted, and someone walked into the room. (even in dreams getting walked in on is extremely embarrassing, especially if you're sleeping with someone who faked his own death in the dream, so that he shouldn't be alive, let alone sleeping with you, and yet there he is and there you are and there is the door, opening, and you scramble in a half-naked race to your bed, and he scrambles under it, and you hope desperately to avoid that awkward moment.)

it really wasn't a coming-of-age thing as much as i thought it'd be.
it didn't really happen anyways.

but it was my first almost-sex dream, i guess.


trust me.

if you had felt

if you had felt what i feel every time this happens
(every time. it's embarrassing and shocking and probably immensely psychological and physiological and a million other things that i don't think are even logical at all.)

if you had felt what i feel every time this happens, things would be different.
(i would be different, you would be different, and there would be a common understanding of grounds here. if i could make my mouth form these words, form much more than words, if you understood the simple poetry and aching of it all, everything would change. and by change i mean fall into the simple rhythm part of me will always cling to and believe as destiny and plain truth.)

i complicate everything, internally, unintentionally.


travel-time-travel machine

you don't know what happens between us!
nobody has a fucking clue what happens between us and everybody has an opinion;
fuck that.

i wrote her a letter in my dream, and i never gave it to her, and she read it. i don't know how, but she somehow read it. and she just recited it to me just now, word by word - she knows it! and you know why?
because i think our brains are creating this loop that is incredibly complex. it's not as if our brains are communicating or telepathy or nothing like that. it is as if we were evolving each step into the same direction. it's called PSR - parallel synchronized randomness. it's incredibly rare.

it's as if we were jigsaw puzzles, you know? and we're falling, falling into the...

you will never date her, okay? she will drive you crazy...and believe me -

no, believe me. she just asked me for a date in 20 minutes. i have to go.

(one of the sweetest, saddest scenes.
i will always love this film the most.)



not quantity.

feels good, doesn't it? to be awake and dreaming?


too many dreams

is it socially acceptable to just ask someone to cuddle with you out of the blue?

"hey, look, all i really want right now is you, me, a couch or a bed or even the floor. okay?"

i don't think that'll really fly.

nobody takes it as an innocent pastime anymore.


flying a kite

i feel like my head is a balloon.


personal new year

my one thought for today:

"thank god i was born in november."


hello, best birthday ever.
i'm so glad you were today!

hot showers, hummus, ESP, guitars, leaves/trees (grass), reading, sci-fi, dancing, hugs, trying new things, eating with my hands, chai, conversation, a room full of balloons, phone calls, family, friends, love.

i still smell a little like curry and a little like outside.
i'm smiling.
i love being loved. i love being loved and i love loving.


chaude pisse!

on occasion, my sole wish is to erase myself.

and to learn many, many languages.


structurally unsound.

there's just too much to deal with, and i'm caving in.

(for every step forward there is one back, and i am getting nowhere.
and yet i cannot abandon what i have worked on for so long.)


profoundly unethical

i google'd my roommate's prescription meds while she was out.

does this make me a bad person or a concerned citizen?


goal 3 is sex in zero gravity

it's days like these i know i'm a poet.
when i watch the wind, the leaves chasing each other in an orange frenzy, i know.
it's days like these when the soul of the earth manifests itself in something that is so much beyond words that it becomes words in my mind; i am a poet.

it's nights like these that i wish i were flying.
i want to be on a plane. i want to be on a plane flying into my lover's arms. i want to feel higher than the average citizen, like a member of the clouds. i want to feel that slightly nauseous, slightly sexual feeling that is turbulence. i want to be going somewhere, but perhaps not even somewhere; just going.

when i lie myself down, face in the grass, with a blanket of falling leaves, i know.
i am the earth.
my days are spent in it, i wish for nights above it.
i want an out-of-body experience.


it's another day!


were all in my mouth

i'd have danced like the queen of the eyesores
the rest of our lives would've fared well


but how i loved you

i came back to muskegon and it wasn't home.
i will go back to grand rapids and it won't be home.

i am feeling displaced.

people make me feel like home,
and i don't know where to start.


i'm super serial

this has got to stop.

(i swear i'm funny, audience. i swear.)

"oh, please don't clap! it's in five...you wouldn't get it."