song and dance

written a while ago, copy-and-pasted to the blog to add some poetry to this old thing.

The sweetest sort of pain is waiting on my lips
An angular refrain of tightly-woven hips,
A song and dance, a song and dance.
I think we might belong here.

An echo of your words floats like a friendly ghost.
He's telling me you've heard my whispers and you know
The song and dance, the song and dance.
I think we might belong here.

I have found a confidant for secrets I can't tell.
I have found a ringer when I wanted a new bell.
It comes and goes, it comes and goes,
You tell me I belong here.

These empty rooms are naked, but I am not consumed
By what is left unshaken. The stark and pretty tune -
Our song and dance, our song and dance.
I know that I belong here.


bodies, and other cliches


these women intimidate me.
i have mixed feelings on the fat-acceptance movement. part of me thinks it's unhealthy, that it encourages an embrace of bad lifestyles, that it says it's okay to be lazy. the other part of me loves people loving themselves.
i guess the real problem is the fact that i think fat equates to ugly. i am afraid of it. i don't want to ever look like these women. their bodies are scary to me because i am scared of looking like that.

but i feel like i look like that, sometimes.

it's just that these big ladies look so happy in what would make me (and so many other people) feel so bad - their big bodies. but is that bad? if they love themselves, and if they are happy, should anyone try to change that?

what does any of this mean? i don't know. i'm not one of those people who is going to blame any generation's messed-up body image on the media and how all of our young girls are going to get eating disorders from the fashion industry. women have been feeling like this for decades without the realm of high-fashion models. i will say that finding out about crystal renn has made me feel like i can be just as beautiful if i try, but that girls in movies often make me feel like i will never be thin enough to qualify as beautiful.

this subject often makes people feel uncomfortable, but i needed to say something (even if just in this nearly-unread blog). i don't know how i feel in my own skin, if i like my body or not. i don't know what beautiful is. i don't know if i don't like the fat acceptance movement because i think it's unhealthy, or simply because i don't like myself. i am not asking for your compliments or for you to tell me anything about my appearance. i want to figure out how i feel about fat acceptance, about body image, about plus sized models and the idea of "plus sized" and so many other things. i want to know what other people think, too. i just want to learn about bodies.

i want to know where men are in all of this, too. women's body image is constantly discussed, but men are often ignored. i'm not only curious about what men think of women's opinions of themselves, but what pressures men face. they are assaulted, too, with an ideal to obtain. do men feel as badly about themselves as so many women do?

if this is all too personal, you can let me know. i'm having second thoughts about this post, but...ah, well. here goes.

(also....leonard nimoy photography? what?)


can't sleep

consumed by:
a. family
b. food
c. phones
a. legs
b. lights
c. loneliness

(put in outline format, per high school speech class requirements.
i'm feeling odd these days.)


watching movies

i always want a love like someone else's love;
i always want a love that is uniquely my love;
i always want love.

merry christmas.
celebrate it by reading books,
by hugging people,
by eating sugar and cholesterol (and not caring),
by watching the history channel,
by watching a christmas story,
by going to grandma's,
by staying at home.
celebrate something - there are things to be happy about somewhere, i'm sure, and we ought to take advantage of that.


holidays on ice

ready for st. paul now.

(i ate too many cookies, and it's so hard to motivate myself to work out at home. excuses, excuses. i set an alarm for tomorrow morning and i'm going to start making better decisions. i'm all mixed up.)



this is my 500th post.

i had other words to post when i came here,
but none of them seemed important enough.

more later - i must go put on pants.


zoo animals

the birds
that have forgotten to fly south
are outside my window
they are outside my window
asking for trouble and
getting used to the cold

(car for 10 hours tomorrow,
then i'm back in the mitten)


off the beaten path

"musicians lead extraordinary lives. you have to prepare yourself to lead a life that is extraordinary."

i've just got to get through finals week. get through this project i don't care about, this song i am not confident in, these piano lessons that make me feel incompetent (yet i am taking again), this whole debacle of wanting things i can't have and not getting enough hours at work and feeling so strange all the time.

i'll start preparing myself for an extraordinary life after the mundane quits hanging around...but i guess that's never going to really stop, is it?

(i'm always going to have to do the dishes, aren't i?)



i'm having one of those weeks where i convince myself i really can't do this for a living.
seriously, who do i think i am?
i don't practice piano enough, my voice is ordinary, my songs either feel too similar to each other, or like they lack consistency. i have too much jazz, or not enough. i have too many words, or not enough. i don't know. i don't know if i'd buy my music. (really, honestly, i probably wouldn't.)

so, uh...welcome to december, blog. it's gonna be an angst-y month.
the smell of snow makes me sad.


eating animals

i'd really like to stay dedicated to vegetarianism this time. it's something i really believe in for so many reasons.

i just have a really hard time sticking to it, with so many people close to me so adamantly pro-meat. it was easier last year, with so many fellow veggies to go to for support.

am i the only one here?


romantic yogurt

life is full of silly, silly things.

and sometimes that word is the only accurate descriptor.


hello; i'm a cliche.

it's two in the morning and i'm reading bukowski.

my roommate is sleeping and i'm not going to bed partly out of insomnia, and partly out of not wanting to find pajamas in the dark.

i miss having my own tiny room sometimes, but only once in a while.
having other people is really, really nice.

actually, now that i think about it, i am tired. i bid you adieu. until tomorrow.



there is this little twitch in my legs and this little thought in my head that keeps telling me to start running. and you know what? i kind of want to. (okay, i really want to.) but this means i have to buy running shoes, and a new sports bra, and, fear of all fears, it means i have to use the treadmill in the workout room, which is potentially in front of other people. and that...that is no good.

but man, oh man. the control freak in me is really excited about the potential for goals and pushing myself.
of course, this is juxtaposed with yoga, to keep the calm in me happy.


small and alive.

and then i bent over and set it on top of the water, thin but not weak. it drifted like a leaf, like i was the tree that wrote that letter. the current was reversed, so close to the island, and so my words went backwards for a while, until they were swept up in the mighty mississippi, unable to strain any longer against its pull. i cried. i began to pick up rocks to throw into the river, one by one, making loud splashes, feeling an angry and relieved strain in my arm over and over. but then, finally, i looked back up and it had gone. i don't know if it sank, or just floated out of my view. in any case, it is gone.

well, the paper is gone.

the problem is not.

but somehow, this is easier, now.



personal goals:

ASAP, begin making higher quality recordings to put online.

by next semester at the latest, gig at least bi-weekly.
buy a gig bag and a small PA system.

by next year, play at least once a week.
become a familiar face in the coffee-house scene.
set up a track list to prepare for an album.
have a decent size fan base.

i am overwhelmed, a little bit.
oh, world - please, please like me.
(if only gigs would come to me.
but life could never be that easy.)


shoulder stands.

today on my yoga video:

"for this pose, you will need a chair, several blankets, a belt, and a small towel."

and what, pray tell, are you planning to do, rodney yee?



secret sisterhood.

in my dreams last night, i was in a paper house in the rain; i also got inducted into a society in which i had to share secrets and learn secrets and do a secret handshake.

i wish that dreams had playback once we were awake.


never-ending sunday.

it is hard to make friends here, and easy to write letters.

maybe things would feel easier if i had another job, but that requires me doing even more job searching, and i'm sick of that. really. and having time to myself is nice (although i'm not quite sure what to do with this much of it.)

creativity is becoming this strange creature lately that i can barely see. songs are not rolling out of me, but are in this cycle of trickle, trickle, pour; trickle, trickle, pour. nothing's gushing. i don't even feel like writing poetry. i don't even feel like singing sometimes.

i think it's time to take things in halves. it's easier to handle that way.


the funny guy.

i want this to be dialogue in a sitcom:
"my weight loss goal? well, um, i've never told anyone this, but i'd always hoped that at least one person in the world would automatically picture me when they heard the first verse of 'faith' by george michael."


je me souviens.

hopefully i will work my way out of this writer's block.
chords are just hard, right now, which is weird, but maybe good. i worked too hard to be complicated, to be difficult and intelligent. i wanted to be interesting and smart, but interesting doesn't have to be a mess of difficult patterns. interesting is often simple and elegant. (it's strange, because that's the kind of art i really enjoy, yet rarely produce.)

i am going to write songs as other people.
i am going to pretend to be other people and let them write my songs through me.

first - an old woman.
next - who knows.

je me souviens
la guerre, la guerre
l'amour, l'amour
la guerre d'amour
(oh, love's a war.)



i had a dream last night that the world ended, and i wasn't able to gather the people i loved together in time.
right now, i just want to get everyone i love and hug them, and hug them, and hug them.

(my dreams are getting stranger and, generally, sadder and more violent. i dislike this.)



we are a bunch of strings that are intertwined but not tied to one another, this odd family of mine.
it is generally a lie, these attachments, isn't it? the way we are.

i am sad about not being sad.

i am selfish.

colors, colors everywhere.

made a beautiful cake yesterday. i am making friends - there were ten people in my apartment eating rainbow cake and playing catchphrase and talking about life changes. i didn't really know most of them, but who knows what will happen. i am so excited to meet people and love people.

the apartment is grand. i am feeling happy here, inspired here, almost home here. i haven't been here long enough to really know, but i think things will be good.

i have a lead on a job - that is exciting. so exciting. ahhhh.

the clouds are so very close here. i can watch the lightning come down in a way i never imagined. i can also watch cars go all around, boats go on the river, trains pass by....everything is out my window. i love this apartment. i really, really do.


silent drive.

the drive back from grand rapids tonight was oddly empty. there were no other cars on the road for maybe twenty minutes or more of that drive, and i was surrounded by orange construction barrels reflecting back at me.

i started to cry as soon as i hit fulton. i didn't stop until i got to coopersville.

"the end of history" sang to me until the car sat in the garage.

i am not sure what to think or how to feel. i've already started a letter.

it begins.

[i move this week]
{what about love?}


cigarette eyes

stepped out of the cliched comfort zone to go to the gay bar tonight. (the comfort zone-stepping was not for the gay part, but for the bar. i don't do lots of lights and crowds and smoke and drinks, generally.)
dancing with the little crowd of boys i was with was a good time (especially when the other girl's boyfriend showed up and danced awkwardly). it was all just silly and fun.

it was stripper night, too, which was kind of odd at first. and i'm thinking a lot about sex workers right now, and what that must be like. there were some unattractive, uncomfortable looking people out there tonight in the crowd. there were large women and old men and a girl who might have been a bit mentally retarded. the strippers had to look at all of them, dance on all of them, and make them feel sexy. and members of both sexes, too - you have to pretend to want to fuck what you don't really want to fuck.

of course, being with who i was with, i got dragged out onto "the square," as they call it, which is where you wait patiently for your lap dance, ones strategically placed. it just felt strange, watching this man crawl all over these people who are paying him for a half minute of attention, of pretend sex, knowing i would have a turn. i wished silently over and over that i wouldn't feel awkward, embarrassed. i knew i had to have a good balance - i couldn't be a prude, but i couldn't be creepily into it like i'd seen some people. i also wished that he wouldn't bend me over. that seemed odd.

but then it got to be my turn, and i didn't even care anymore. my heart wasn't into it, and he was just doing his job, really. our bodies were just close. it was just motion, movement. nothing awkward, but nothing felt actually sexual. at least for me. i know i am an exception to the rule for this, judging by the crowd i saw tonight, but i got nothing out of it other than a good laugh and an experience. when my thirty seconds were up, he looked at me awkwardly, not knowing where my money was. i had to show him, laughing, and he grabbed the one from my breast pocket with his teeth, smiled, and went on to lift up another girl's ankles, put his face in another guy's crotch. no big deal.

this is where i know for sure that cheap, meaningless sex is something i cannot do. ah, well.
it's for the best.


dirty chai

tonight was good. it felt real, albeit small. i felt love and excitement; i remembered how much i love to perform.

i hope that as time goes on, i get just as excited for every gig i play.

also, i really enjoy menswear, and i am loving all the free menswear i've been getting lately. old man sweaters, button-down shirts...but i also love my new pencil skirt. dare i say i feel, as a friend put it, "like a fox"? because that's kind of an awesome, previously unexperienced feeling.

i move in a week and a few hours.
excitement, nerves, insomnia, fear, energy, worry, hope.


all the way down

i'd rather not fall in love, i am thinking.

i'd rather, at this point, go for easy hook-ups and friends with benefits and cuddle buddies and all the goodness and joy in human contact without the emotions that sometimes drown the simplicity.
but, of course, i am saying this in this moment right now.
tomorrow morning, i will probably change my mind.

but for some reason, it seems like detachment and looking at everything like a scientist could be oh so much easier, don't you think?

"i propose an experiment."
"are you asking me out?"


made you say it

okay, so this is the second time i've left my underwear at a boy's apartment.

they say third time's the charm...who's next?



i am up too late for the first time in ages!
maybe that's what i was missing; maybe this is when the magic happens.

i'll keep you updated.

moving - less than one month
work ending - less than one week
festival gig thing - less than one week

all good things and bad things and neutral things



it's been a while.
i need to keep it going; i'm losing myself in this state of nonwriting.
but i am reading a lot.

i am a premium reader.



i am playing piano; she says there is a dance for us?
too many people

i need to

maltreatment of the brain; thinking healing was done; i cannot do this myself, apparently

two families is too many.
one family is too many.
i would like to go.

this feels all too familiar.

at least i look nice in that dress.


starting again.

today i am feeling lethargic and sad.
that is okay.
that is good, reassuring.

i just want to go back to bed.
that might not be okay.

however, i have been listening to music.
i haven't done that in a while, which was not okay.
so now it is back, pleasant and nostalgic.

and here i am, reevaluating who i am and what i mean again.
surreality is back, maybe to stay.
nothing really makes sense.
i don't expect it to anytime soon.
things are stark, pressed between pages of big reference books, clean.

i had a hard time sleeping last night, although i was so tired.
probably the caffeine running through my body,
and the thoughts running through my brain.
i had wild, vivid dreams.


two kinds

i've had coffee and tea tonight. i am very tired. i don't know where my black notebook is and i am getting obsessive. i want to sleep, i want to read. i don't have the attention span to do either.

i very much need to clean.

theater on wheels will make for an interesting summer.

my thoughts feel a bit disjointed.

i need a good cry so badly. it's stuck inside of me. i haven't cried for a long time, too long a time. there are things i need to cry about. this is not good. i don't like it one bit.

sleep wants to take me right now. i should go with it. i just want to write more. that's good though, good that writing is coming back. it had gone away and that upset me. i was afraid it would leave forever.

i wrote a poem today, a poem for a song. i think i could be a lyric-writer. not an exceptionally good one, but one nonetheless. (nonetheless was a word i really loved for a long time.)

tomorrow i want to clean my room and read on my roof. hopefully tomorrow-me remembers the things right-now me wants.

bed, bed, bed. good night.


no, no, no.


what is wrong with humanity?
i want to cry.



i am addicted to buying books. seriously. i have bought more than ten in the past week, and it just keeps happening. used books are so cheap sometimes, though, that i can't stop. who can pass up anna karenina for 25 cents, or huck fin for 40 cents? not me, obviously. i just keep buying and buying them and making my library. it's always been my goal to have a big library as an adult. i am investing in pieces, i guess. this is what i collect.

god, and how i love knowledge and beautiful words.


not me

i am not writing much lately.
i don't have the drive to write much lately.
i'm reading all the time, but nothing is coming out.
i feel like someone who has lost interest in sex, and their partner is just sitting there waiting for them.

where is my literary viagra?



he never called.



i'm coming back "home" for 3 months only to leave again.
my shit is everywhere.
i haven't cried about leaving yet, but i have breathed heavily and hidden my head in my knees.
living at home is going to be so difficult.
grand rapids is calling for me temporarily.
st. paul is yelling at me to come soon.
this will be a long summer.
i am going to enjoy it, just the same, i hope.

i need a job.


wisdom teeth

i am in love with so many different people and things right now that i am getting overwhelmed.

it is my last week of school here. it is my last week of living in this city. i don't know what to do. i don't know who to see. i am surrounded by so many people that i like. but of course, i must come visit over the summer.

i've been working and sleeping odd hours.
i've been watching movies about space.
i've been reading books about jazz.

i haven't been writing music. (i don't like that.)

if only leaving were easy. if only detachment was simple. if only everyone weren't so wonderful.

i need to find a way to keep these people in my life forever.

i needed so many things from these people, you know? i needed smoky coffee shops at 2 AM and spontaneous adventures. i needed to climb on a roof. i needed to be in charge of something. i needed to be made responsible. i needed to receive unnecessary gifts. i needed very strong hugs. i needed to break silly rules i was supposed to uphold. i needed to tell everyone they were wonderful. i needed hope. i needed to hold hands. i needed to give more back rubs. i needed to play the blues. i needed jam sessions. i needed to be a little trapped. i needed to learn independence. i needed structure. i needed something to break free from. i needed tea dates. i needed poetry. i needed music. i needed love.

i'm still going to need these things.
who will i get them from?

(5:30 AM realization to hotel light's "follow through")


rain dance

i have possibly made one of the best "bad" decisions of my life so far, which resulted in some pretty good college memories.
it is 3:38 am, and i have a morning class tomorrow.
but you know what?
i have a new really good friend now. also, the bottom of my foot is cut and i have two giant bruises.
i am covered in rainwater.
my paper is not done.
sleep may become an elusive thing tonight.

life is an adventure, and tonight i took it.



i haven't been writing much lately.

this concerns me.
but not frequently.
just when i think about it.

but here is some writing, some thoughts.

there are so many more men in my life lately. some are boys, really. but they're all around. musicians and writers, mostly. those that seem epitome of cool and ones who play dungeons and dragons (but don't let that fool you - you can still be cool and play d&d). i hang out in groups where i am the only girl oh so often. i can joke and play, say crude words with the best of them. i am essentially one of the guys with (sometimes) longer hair.
but i have also been re-learning how to interact with women, how to be good friends with them, confide in them, be one of them. i have always been a woman in a different way than my peers (although i acknowledge everyone is what they are in a different way, of course) and i felt a bit strange for it. now i am realizing what all of this means to me, and what gender is in my own definition. why i am a slightly androgynous woman, but a woman down to my core. i can relate to creation, to softness, to all things essentially feminine, but i won't worry about painting my nails and i like to say shit that is far from ladylike.
i've also begun to think that my feminine core is based in sexuality. the typical female sexual role - the acceptor, the warm enveloper, the one who takes in and holds - ties in to my personality. that is what i do to people on an emotional level, whether they know it or not. i take people into me. this is what makes me a woman, and what makes me who i am as a person.

that is the culmination of several years as a childhood girly-girl, attempting to be a tomboy all throughout elementary school, and having male best friends as a young child and a college student, but female in between. it is also a result of watching people and how they interact with each other and applying their actions to my own behavior.

what an interesting life we each lead, yes?


friday night

academia is not my forte. i'm drowning in it, a little.

but look at all that i'm learning within and without it...



those motherfuckers were everywhere in my dreams last night.
i think it was a combination of watching kung fu panda and knowing easter was coming.

easter weekend is officially over.

empty dorms, chinese food, movie marathons, romps in the woods, spitting on ducks, swings, unnecessary rounds, free pizza, strange art, jumping for baseball, loving the people around me - it was an eventful two days.

i am going to miss it. i am. i am going to miss people and places and opportunities.
but i have to go.
i have to keep telling myself that.

(i haven't sent in my "yes" letter.
it is my passive way of saying that i am not ready to let go yet.)



my letter came today!

i jumped, made nonsense noises, and felt a little bit like crying.
it's time, isn't it?



i just
don't want
to break
anyone's heart
that's all

not saying
that i'm
a heartbreaker
just that
maybe he'd
leave less
satisfied than
he came.

[touch my hand again]



a lot of old things are getting kicked back up, and i am realizing that i need to deal with stuff i've been ignoring. better now than never to attempt to clear my head, right?

[he cut my wrists with an imaginary blade to make a blood oath and i cringed and felt grateful.]



you'll be coming to see me.
i hope.


jane doe

i am immensely proud to be part of something so powerful.

so many women have so many stories to tell. so many people.
it was so incredible to see their faces, to understand that i was speaking for someone whose voice was taken.
they are so strong.


is it rude?

you know i'll miss you, too.



it's time to be happy, let the load off my shoulders, enjoy everything that's happening.

and worry about money and logistics later....right?


joni and herbie

i think it might be a sign from god, all these names that fall in together, all these songs that play together.
little, brilliant transitions.

i feel the most like me when i am traveling. it is a strange constant in a world that always changes.


practice makes perfect.

in less than 24 hours, i will be back in my hometown.
in less than 48 hours, i will be back in minnesota.
in less than 96 hours, i will be done with my audition.
in less than 120 hours, i will be back in my hometown.

it's all pretty quantifiable, isn't it?

what you can't quantify are my nerves, my emotions, my excitement, my fear.

one train, one bus, one plane.

wish me luck and send me love.



just a product of anticipation,
toying with emotions and expectations.

don't give me what i want - that's the fun of it.
give me the last thing from my mind
and there lies delight.
play with me.
really, that's what we all want:

(i participated in a poetry slam for the first time tonight.
i really like it - i think i will be doing more spoken word stuff.)



the very secret you're trying to conceal
is the very same one you're dying to reveal

(those lines are so true, even when not about love.
because all songs may be love songs,
but all love songs are simultaneously about something higher than themselves.)



remember when we used to play that game as kids?
remember when we used to play that game as high schoolers?

nostalgia is my fondest friend.

i can't focus, sometimes.
and i get really upset when people break the plans i've made with myself.
(but really, i tend to break the plans i've made with myself just as often. i guess i ought to be grateful to people for giving me a reason not to blame myself, for once.)



it's not about that, really.
if that's what you think, you probably haven't been there.

but i am never one to judge.
don't let me belittle any part of your experiences; i wasn't there. i don't know.



time keeps slipping past and i can't seem to take advantage of it well enough.

(why am i not changing?)



happy valentine's day.

i've been reading anne sexton's poems lately. funny how "sex" is right in her name.
but she's very not-subtly subtle about the whole thing. her metaphors make me laugh and soften at the same time.
today is also a day for e.e. cummings, i do think, and brand-new cars and springtime and hips and things.

i'm going to write.

but. i have to go to lunch with my family and figure out the giver of a mysterious valentine, so.
later days.



i have got to get out of here.

i just don't fit in here.

i want to go home.



my current focus is less consumption. i want to be green. i want to eat locally grown foods and walk everywhere possible and buy less things i don't need. obviously this will take a transition period; i'm not going to all of a sudden change my entire life. i can, however, start now instead of later. i'm using a reusable water bottle and coffee cup to use less plastic and paper. i don't eat meat anymore. i hang my clothes instead of using the dryer. i travel using the train and bus.
but, really, i still use a lot of electricity and water, and am in no way an exceptional model of a low carbon footprint.
at least i'm trying, i guess?

i wish more people were earth-conscious. you have to do what you can now to make sure you don't have to do what you must later. and what harm will it do to just start now? even little things.

i know i'm not one to lecture, but. spread the word. stop doing at least one little thing, and it all of them added up can make a big difference.



just as i was getting low, low, low,
i run into someone i barely know,
and he begins to give me reasons
to get a little higher.

just as i was getting down, down, down,
i run into someone that loves the sound
and she lets me know that i'm meant
to get a little higher.

i'm feeling locally famous, and although my ego is not swelling, it is getting a little boost, which was altogether necessary lately, i do believe.
(i know i'm not really famous, but people are starting to know my name, and it's such an odd feeling.)



i'll just push a little further
see how far i'll stretch

(ignore all signs for stopping
they're not important now)


black coffee

i'm spending my weekend nights alone...i think i like it.
which is not to say i don't miss you.
it's just that i need that time to look at myself, and forget myself.

i'm getting tired, though. really tired. i should go to bed early more often.
(i hope i'm not wearing myself out.)
bodies are confusing and hard to keep up with, at times.

it's funny who i want, and when, and why.
i wish i could keep my favorite people around me always.



i know i shouldn't, but i just want to stop.

(i am so much softer than i was years ago.
i am so much softer than the people i know.)


mr. obama

i will try to be realistic.


george w. bush is out of the white house now, and obama has a lot to reverse.
we are so used to a bad leader with disastrous actions, with only occasional justifications for the things he's done.
i want a president whose choices are explainable most, if not all, of the time instead of the other way around.



auuuugh how i know now
i can feel it in my bones

i come from the blues
i come from america

i am improvisation
i am conversation
i am collaboration
i am instigation, observation, class and station

i have senses purely for the enjoyment of life
i have ears to consume sound
i have eyes to bring in beauty
i have hands to touch, to touch, to touch
i have a mouth for a million reasons
to sing, to taste, to kiss, to scream, to whisper, to cry

jazz is sensuality
jazz is self-discovery
jazz is ecstatic bodies
jazz is restless minds

and i am going to become it.



oh man, i am packed.
i'm not sure if i like it or not.

but reading a book a week...that will be nice, i think. yes, yes.



please don't tell me i can't.
it's not a good enough reason.

i will starve, i will not buy any new clothes, i will not update electronics, i will not have cable, i will not use much electricity, i will go outside instead of to a gym, i will go to the library instead of bookstores, i will work a lot, i will actually try to get gigs, i will do whatever it takes for me to be able to love what i am doing.
because that's far more important, right now, than anything else.

i know what it is to wear myself out, and i am not afraid to do it in pursuit of love.

(also, now that i'm thinking about it, the lack of consumerism would actually be quite good for me, and most likely more sustainable than how i'm living. i might as well cut down on consumption anyway.)


my little room

it will be nice to be back, i think, to my own space and my own ways around.

oh god, this is my last semester here.
my last set of classes.
my last meal plan.
my last dorm room.
my last array of bulletin boards.
my last (first) spring formal. (if i go.)

so many things.
i will miss you so.
and yet.
ah, how i love to move.

(i'm beginning to feel a yearning for the mississippi;
i'm not sure why, but it is calling me to a temporary home)



i feel utterly ashamed of myself, like i have accomplished nothing with my break from school.

but part of me wants to say, hey, world, fuck off. because sometimes, when one gets a break, one needs a break. and i hadn't had one in a long while. i've got a lot of shit to deal with, and work wasn't exactly going to help me through any of that. besides, i am at home - this is supposed to be a safe haven against schoolwork. i do schoolwork when i live at school, simple as that.

i know, though, in the end, that those are not good enough reasons. i have a few days to get a lot done, and i'm not sure it will happen. i probably ought to go work right now, instead of writing.

(it's still hard for me to understand how i can't get through life just writing and reading and breathing.
logically, of course, one needs to make money and all of that nonsense, but that's not enough for me.)


clearing up

i'm throwing a bunch of things away that are unnecessary, and in turn, throwing parts of myself away that are unnecessary.

it feels damn good.



ranging from the cliche to the abstract, for 2009.

eat less
exercise more
watch less
read more
worry less
create more
sit less
go more
memorize less
learn more
own less
travel more
criticize less
encourage more
"i have to" less
"i want to" more

fear less
love more