private thoughts made public.

because I need to start writing about this.

2012-01-15T12:45:00.000-08:00

we are two people in a single bed, lying to ourselves and saying that it's comfortable. we wake up in the morning full of backaches and smiles. he has discovered that, perfectly positioned, his face can make fart sounds in my armpit. we laugh and laugh. we make eggs, toast, tea. we wake up slowly, me more so than him, and he reminds me that, in the morning, I constantly look like a cat who has found a stash of catnip. and I do.

he puts on music and I dance, awkwardly, unabashedly. there is no reason to be nervous or embarrassed, even in the most ridiculous moments. there never has been. he lets me know that I am silly, hangs his head in faux incredulity, smiles faintly. I kiss his cheeks, freshly-shaven. we are happy.

there is so much snow. I was going to go back to my apartment. I was going to shower, to clean, to lead a productive day. we sit and read. we watch dr. strangelove. we look out the window. more snow. we prepare canned vegetable soup ("I ate so much of this in college. my bloodstream must've been full of sodium") and grilled cheese ("I wish I had nice cheese to make fancy grilled cheese." "maybe if you mixed the mexican cheese and the cheddar together, it would seem like it?") and he shows me how to use non-stick spray. we talk about foods we never ate growing up; foods we ate too much of growing up. we talk about growing up.

our families are startlingly similar in some ways, but different enough to keep talking about. both sets of our parents are divorced. we each have a parent with too many siblings. we each understand the kind of upbringing the other had, why it makes us the way we are, why we have not had a fight in the four months we've been dating. why we will not have fights. (hopefully.)

we sit on the couch together and read. every once in a while one will reach over to touch the other's knee, arm, thigh, hand. sometimes we make eye contact and kiss. sometimes I lean on his shoulder. sometimes he leans on mine. we are quiet. we are happy.

tomorrow we will sit on the couch and read the new york times. he will take the news. I will sift through, finding whatever grabs my attention, less dedicated with keeping up with anything. I will not have showered in 36 hours and he will not mind, or at least not let on. he will have showered twice since I came over. I will not have left the night before, partially due to the snow, partially due to laziness, mostly due to the fact that I don't feel like going back without him. but I will need to go back to take that shower.

we will leave, come back to my place. our friends will be there, as they always are, watching football and cooking and laughing. we will read a little more, I will pretend to watch football, he will add clothes to my pile and I will do laundry and try to clean. we will talk about books and complain about having to go back to work ("the weekends go too quickly." "everything goes too quickly").

but for now, we are on his couch, reading. everything is quiet. the apartment is cold but we make each other warm. we are happy. we are happy. I am happy.

it's been a long, long time.

2011-12-23T07:58:00.000-08:00

i haven't written here in ages. a longer post will come later; for now, i need to take my brother christmas shopping.
list of things you should know:
- i am living in detroit and enjoying it
- i'm working 50-some hour weeks and okay with that (mostly)
- my roommates and friends have formed a strange little family
- my boyfriend has a toothbrush at my apartment
- there are constantly people at my place; we have the gathering spot
- i do not write much anymore, but have resolved to change that
- i don't know where to live next year (a common theme in my life)

that's it for now. brother is insistent on leaving. good-bye!

inked

2011-07-17T22:23:00.000-07:00

i wish i could write reminders all over my hands and arms without anyone else noticing.

i wouldn't have to buy a planner or anything.

recycling again

2011-07-16T22:07:00.001-07:00

and oh i creak like floorboards under
all the weight of you
and when you walk around, i mutter
all that we've been through

also, found a way to rhyme "crackle" and "black hole," which is one of my prouder songwriting moments.
this new song is still unfinished, though, as of yet. needs another two verses and possibly a bridge.
i have been writing verse-chorus instead of AABA lately. it comes and goes in phases, i guess.

big old house, on a hill

2011-07-14T03:42:00.000-07:00

a place to live! a place to live!
for a year, at least.

it's very old and very quirky, but that's what makes it interesting and charming. i hope this is it. i hope this works out. fingers crossed, people.

saturday night

2011-07-09T22:55:00.000-07:00

the beer in lingering in my nostrils
the wind is lingering in my hair

everything floats down here

2011-07-03T11:41:00.000-07:00

anything that sinks from up there
floats down here

i miss msp.
i miss it as a representation of the cusp of psuedo-adulthood for me.
i miss many more things about it but i just don't feel like writing it all out right now. there's not really much to do with that information other than wallow in it, and i don't really want to do that right now.

interpretation

2011-06-29T20:27:00.001-07:00

when it comes to singing these days, i only really want to whisper or yell.

neither of these things are good for your throat.

but fuck the gray area, right?

scrambled

2011-06-24T22:24:00.001-07:00

the internet has ruined my ability to read a book.
well, not ruined.
just made it much more difficult.

shut the computer, self. shut it. read words on paper.
or at least on the kindle. come on.
you have the attention span to get through a novel.
you've done it so many times before.

"the root of depression is being too self-involved, and the cure is to read."

keep out

2011-06-24T17:53:00.000-07:00

it is friday night.
i am in my living room with the television on;
i like to think the noise will cover up my loneliness.
that the talk with ease the noise in my head.

earlier i took a drive around my hometown.
i used to be too anxious to drive.
now i am too anxious to stay home.

i drove through the neighborhoods i used to live in.
i couldn't drive past the houses.

there are more churches than liquor stores here.
the stoplights are placed in seemingly sporadic locations.
streetlights line the bridge, and, in the winter,
are covered in christmas decorations.

i don't know how to write poems anymore.

i want to sit in empty churches;
stand on bridges.
gnaw off each of my fingers, individually,
knuckle by knuckle;
claw my face off.
drink and drink and drink and vomit.
forget.

stopped up

2011-06-22T20:44:00.000-07:00

i keep having dreams about screaming

tired

2011-06-19T20:35:00.000-07:00

i would rather go to sleep
than keep scheduled appointments

i'll blame the pills and all of that stuff for now

what does it mean

2011-06-14T21:55:00.000-07:00

it is very confusing
to love this hard
to not be able to say it
(why not? who said?)
to want to yell loudly

to try to understand its place

(it is very confusing
to feel so strongly
about anything at all)

i even ordered decaf

2011-06-11T23:32:00.001-07:00

when i am too caffeinated and/or undernourished, my arms feel like they are made of plastic bags and pudding, like they might slip off of my bones at any second, like if i shake them parts of them might fall out.

i want to do hundreds of pushups
and also sleep forever and ever.

carving.

2011-06-10T21:07:00.000-07:00

life is a continual emptying;
i feel, lately, like i am constantly gouging out my stomach
and letting the cold air come in.

(i feel, lately, like i am too melodramatic about everything.
i might be seventeen years old again.)

here.

2011-06-08T09:32:00.001-07:00

existing is rough, sometimes.
but we all get through it,
until we don't.

acting out

2011-06-07T07:55:00.000-07:00

love is the most confusing concept and i have no idea how it works most days.

heavy

2011-06-03T08:32:00.000-07:00

topics of conversation:

what foods are good
what foods are bad
weight loss
who is thin
who is fat
how fat makes you feel
why the scale was hidden
why the scale should be out
exercise
what foods you can eat
what foods you can't eat
getting rid of junk food
what to eat today
what to eat tomorrow
what to eat this week
what other people are eating
how many pounds you've lost
how many pounds you've gained
how to lose more

...i am going crazy.

please just give me a crystal ball

2011-06-01T22:15:00.001-07:00

is it even possible to get a job for just two months?

(i would like to have a summer but i also need the money very much.)

hometown

2011-05-30T17:49:00.001-07:00

i should be happy while i'm here. the lake is so big and my room is so full and my family has so much food. i have more friends than i remembered. it will all be okay.

(right now, though, i feel suffocated by heat and boxes and obligations.
and that pesky feeling of not really knowing where i am, sometimes.)

scrubbed raw

2011-05-29T18:37:00.001-07:00

everything is clean.

i could go.

i'm just not, right now.

(this is harder than i thought it would be.)

seesaw

2011-05-29T13:24:00.003-07:00

just trying every angle, while i still can.

i wish my hands worked the way i wanted them to.

closing up shop

2011-05-28T20:43:00.001-07:00

i want to cry but there are too many people here—

fuck

2011-05-27T17:03:00.001-07:00

fuck fuck fuck fuck

(i would like to stand on the side of a bridge and scream,
spit into the mississippi,
light something on fire,
shake uncontrollably)

the cafe is closing

2011-05-26T12:57:00.000-07:00

stayed out until two last night, walking around the streets of st paul with a friend.
ate pizza and ice cream and (mostly) didn't give a fuck.
should have done this more in college.
need to remember to do this more, post-college.

i like people.
i like people and they like me.

i move this sunday. we leave at night, drive straight through, and get back to muskegon just as everyone will begin to wake up.

fuck phones

2011-05-25T14:07:00.001-07:00

i just gotta get the fuck over this;
it is so very hard to interact with anyone, some days.

(it's that feeling you get when you know that you need to call strangers to set up an appointment with strangers to interact with strangers and although you'll never see them again, you worry about what they'll think of you. there are so many things to get wrong. there are so many words that will come out incorrectly, so many moments in which to appear too ignorant or too vulnerable or too "blonde" or too anything. there are so many things that other people can think about you.
but a person cannot be completely invincible. a person cannot be completely anything. gotta remember that.)

i need a script in order to talk to most people.
maybe that's why i like books so much.

wear your nicest bathrobe

2011-05-25T08:41:00.000-07:00

i'm thinking about starting a depressed writers' club. i could invite all my closest friends.

"the sad kids writing club:
we'd have meetings if we could leave our apartments."

majestic

2011-05-24T17:15:00.000-07:00

i have very few close friends.
i think all of my close friends know this, and sometimes i worry they feel some sort of pressure from that knowledge. i hope they don't. but either way, i am so glad for them, so thankful for them, so amazed that i have found people to really, truly care about when i am so often afraid to even look at anything. it's beautiful that they exist and that we found each other.
it is also wonderful to feel understood. that only comes along every once in a while.
i sometimes worry about coming on too strong. it's just that i want these people to know that i really appreciate their existence. mostly, it's that a phone call or a long walk can make life considerably more bearable in a way i couldn't have fathomed.

some things:
reading hemingway short stories (i only seem to read hemingway in the summer)
saying psuedo-goodbyes
having more frequent and more vivid (and sometimes more violent) dreams
screaming slightly less at night
drinking occasionally, but don't tell anyone
moving in less than a week
driving all through the night to get home
feeling more detached
listening to music occasionally, but still not often
writing rarely, poorly, ineffectively. not giving a shit about that, right now.

some days i just want to mash the keyboard; i feel like that would suitably describe some of my emotions.

blood money

2011-05-16T21:06:00.001-07:00

listening to tom waits; thinking more about the darker things instead of hiding from them.
maybe this will make me stronger.

i am writing songs that i am not sure about.
i don't know how i feel about the way i am spending my time.

i move back to my mom's house in two weeks;
i move to detroit in two and a half months.

i move so much.
i don't know if i want to any more.

please, hand me down
give me a place to be

this thing

2011-05-12T12:14:00.000-07:00

it's just that sometimes, i feel like it's a puppy that i only let out to play for a little while and then lock it back up. why should it be stuck in a cage now? i want to let it run free for a while. i've never let it past the front lawn, but i want to take it to the park. go to the beach. run through the woods. sure, its teeth are sharp and its eyes are cruel, but its fur is soft and it just looks so cute sometimes.

"allye, you have to put that puppy in a blender." - a reminder. thank god for friends.

tomorrow i start drinking whiskey and start chopping up that damn dog.

bright like lightning

2011-05-10T18:45:00.000-07:00

i'll miss living on the eighteenth floor.

sameness, weakness, aloneness

2011-05-05T21:02:00.001-07:00

most illicit substances make me feel the same;
i laugh and then i get very quiet.

i am currently unemployed (until august; the decision has been made to move to detroit) and sitting around my apartment for the next three weeks or so. it feels good and bad and many things. i am constantly many things.

the saddest thing about leaving here is realizing all the friends i didn't make.
the second saddest thing is leaving the friends i did make.
the third saddest thing is that i am always leaving.

things come in threes.

i don't know why i'm going to detroit, honestly. i think it's just because it's something, and i needed something, and it was so easy to believe in. and i couldn't stay here. not really. i want to, sometimes, but it would be lonely and i feel like i have already failed here, somehow. i sit on my hands too often. i become afraid of phones and people and too many other things, but maybe if i move i won't be afraid of those things anymore (i tell myself every two years). besides, moving is adventurous and i can't disappoint anyone that way, in my head. plus, detroit is in michigan and i love michigan. and detroit is dying and maybe if i believe in detroit's aliveness, i can believe in my own aliveness. something has to be good there. something has to be good.

i just wish i could nurture the few friendships that i made here. i just wish that i could keep people in jars and carry them with me. i just wish letter-writing were still a common practice. i just wish i didn't lose people so easily, like i did last time and worry i will this time.

i took a walk for hours today. i don't know how many. there were so many things to look at and so many things to find. i smell just slightly sweaty. the sun set and i was still miles from home; i don't know where i went or how i got back from parts of it. it felt so good. i do this when i know i am going to leave a place; i say goodbye by exploring.

it is so sad. the world is so beautiful and sad and delicate and a hundred other things and it is occasionally upsetting, unsettling, a hundred other things. it has always been this way. summer always sinks in and laughs at you, nudging you into nostalgia and pestering you to make new memories to feel nostalgic about. i want none of it. (i want all of it.)

i would like to start writing essays...and perhaps spoken word pieces.

the screams have come back.

lesch-nyhan syndrome

2011-05-01T23:02:00.001-07:00

what is it that makes some of us want to destroy ourselves?

paper cuts

2011-04-30T00:43:00.001-07:00

watching the cars out of my window, realizing that i will be doing this for the rest of my life
and nobody will be there to put their hands on my shoulders.

i don't wanna talk

2011-04-26T23:57:00.001-07:00

show me your teeth.

complete

2011-04-25T22:35:00.000-07:00

i feel good. people said nice things. i felt nice. i didn't even know what was going on, but i sang and sang and played and everything was wonderful.

some days i feel like a special person. some days.

weights

2011-04-23T10:14:00.001-07:00

family is here for the weekend.
my anxiety level is consistently hovering between a 7 and 9.
there is not time to be alone.
they are asking questions about what i'm doing after graduation.
they are forgetting to ask me to spend time with them.
i have to babysit my little brother.
i have to babysit my grandparents.
i do not want to live at home this summer; i need to save money.
never did call him.

things are very hard right now, it seems.
and i know this transition is hard for everyone.
i just have a few other ones to make at the same time, and it's so hard to let go. of people, of habits, of places, of things. of ideas and feelings.
i am scared, always.

(you love everything i'm not//where am i supposed to go when you're gone)

and the kitchen sink

2011-04-18T07:52:00.000-07:00

it's monday morning. i tried to start a free write, but i'm at work and easily distracted by requests, people, books, conversations.

two more weeks and then I have a bachelor's degree. not quite sure what that means.

started packing up books. it's lonely, looking at empty shelves. i don't know where i'm going. and nobody does, sure, and i keep talking to people about that, but it'd be nice to know where i am going to be in three months. jesus.

fuck it.

doubles.

2011-04-17T06:49:00.000-07:00

i dreamt about my father last night;
i've lost three pounds this week.

i've been craving mint;
i bought tea and gum.

the weather here comes in contractions;
spring is an orgasm that lasts three weeks.

i want consistency, normalcy, a leveling out.
this is unrealistic.

easter, 1999.

2011-04-12T15:30:00.001-07:00

a pot full of hard-boiled eggs, color stained hands,
a phone off its hook.
the air is thick with egg-smell, dial-tone,
that beeping sound when the cradle is empty too long;
disconnected.

the closet under the stairs is filled with board games,
but it can still (just barely) fit a beanbag and a girl of eight.
the cord for the light is in reach if you're sitting on something.
the only sound is the hum of the water heater
and the buzz of the lightbulb.

the only sound is the hum of the water heater.

tiny patches of brown-black snow that hold on through spring.
the last one in the neighborhood is in front of our house.
it leaves a tiny pile of dirt and litter at the end of the driveway;
it washes away by the end of April.

the air is thick with emptiness, dial-tone.

beep. beep. beep.
beep. beep. beep.

negatives

2011-04-11T23:55:00.000-07:00

i can't figure out what it is i am not.
(all the things i am not.)

longer update coming later; it is nearly 2 AM. i haven't been here in so long. i am not ready.

harsh truth

2011-03-30T11:50:00.000-07:00

i need to get out from under you.

ripped up

2011-03-30T07:21:00.001-07:00

i have a hundred reasons to stay here, and a hundred reasons to go.
this is all i can think about these days.

distraught

2011-03-26T13:15:00.000-07:00

my best friend and i are probably going to have to "break up." i use this phrase not because we are romantically involved; i use it because our friendship is so deep, our lives so intertwined, that it feels like i am losing a long-term partner. truth be told, our relationship has always been a little out of the ordinary, and he really has been a sort of life partner for me.

up until now, it seems.

and now i am lost. i have absolutely no idea what to do without this other part of me. it is so scary to think of day-to-day life without the tiny things that make it seem normal right now. but we will both move. we both have different futures lined up, in our own ways. i am afraid of going too far away from him, although some days i am upset for being so close (it only served to make this separation harder, really).

i'm just getting thrown under the bus by all of this.

it's not fair that everything is happening all at once. i am losing the safe bubble of the academic world. i am losing the safety of a plan. i am losing the safety of structure. i am losing the safety of a best friend. i am so worried. i am so lost. i don't want to go; "i don't want to stay without you."

post

2011-03-17T20:58:00.000-07:00

the after-graduation living choice is now stuck between the twin cities and detroit.

there are so many factors going into this. making this decision is like some sort of intricate project, like gluing a fragile vase back together, like writing on a grain of rice. i want to make sure every piece lines up right.

reality

2011-03-08T20:37:00.001-08:00

the first step is admitting you have a problem, right?
but right now it feels like trying to take a single step over a gaping chasm.

please, build me a bridge; give me a few hours and the chance to put my feet in front of one another a few more times. then, perhaps, i can get to you.

i have not been screaming at night. i have been tensing up, letting out a nervous "oh," but leaving the frightened exclamations somewhere else. (maybe it is because i know nobody can hear me; maybe it is because i am in my mother's house; maybe it is because things might be getting better; maybe it is because i am gaining control)

spring break 98

2011-03-04T18:18:00.000-08:00

i'm back at my mom's house.

i'm not entirely sure that i want to be.
somebody please convince me.

(i am sleep deprived and restless;
i am upset at the loss of a grocery list;
i am becoming obsessive and consumed;
i am making a bad decision, writing about my personal life on the internet.)

calm

2011-03-01T06:15:00.000-08:00

i didn't scream last night. i could've; i felt one; i didn't.

lessons learned: no more caffeine (at all, probably), no screens at least a half an hour before bed. more decaf/herbal tea, more books.

i'm writing a fifteen-minute song suite on eating disorders. i've been doing research to make sure i get things right. it's beginning to consume me. books, tv shows, articles...most things say the same thing, but i always want to know more. right now i'm reading a book on how to talk to a friend or family member who is hurting themselves.

all i've been writing about lately is mental illness. the song suite on suicide, a recent tune i wrote from the perspective of a mentally ill inmate, and now this. but that amount of internal torture and conflict is compelling. i don't care as much anymore about pop love songs, about the conversations between two people that we've heard before. i care much more about the conversation within a person, as well as the conversations that we are afraid to have with other people. i care more about depression, anxiety, fear, pain, struggle. i care about working through that and finding some answers at the other end, or at least figuring out when i have answers or when i don't. maybe a lot of this is taking aspects of my personality, blowing them up to an extreme, picking them apart, and them working through them. (i do feel much saner, much more put-together when i write about mental illness.)

i was just going to make a small note as i ate my breakfast, but this turned into a few paragraphs. oh, well. better i said something than nothing, i suppose.

tense

2011-02-25T21:45:00.001-08:00

i've started screaming at night as i'm going to sleep. it's like that feeling of falling some people get that jerks them awake, except it's not falling. it's more like a lightning bolt that flashes across my head. i'm never really scared, and i'm getting more annoyed than anything. i don't know why it's happening.

i'm worried, though, that it'll start happening during the day. i can feel it creep in sometimes. it would be so hard to explain to other people. "naw, i just yell like this sometimes. totally okay."

maybe it's time to research sleep disorders.

movie quotes

2011-02-17T21:45:00.000-08:00

"you'll be amazed by how many times you fall in love"

i am saddened by all of the lost chances.

dues

2011-02-13T18:31:00.001-08:00

i wanna be in your club! c'mon; please?

not really a poem

2011-02-10T21:23:00.000-08:00

to my brother on his 18th birthday.

we've been in the same room, not speaking.
we've been in the same car, not speaking.
we have lived lives separate but equal;
parallel and intersecting.

now you are "old enough," arbitrarily a member of adulthood;
but today, i will remember when you were smaller than me,
leaning your head against my shoulder and falling asleep on long car rides.
i was so glad, then, for you to be quiet.
i am so glad, now, that i had a chance to hold you.

catch up

2011-01-22T18:08:00.000-08:00

i haven't written in here in almost a month.

here are some bullet points.

- i love vince guaraldi
- music that swings is almost definitely the best music of all
- hip hop everywhere
- i've already read four books this year (although they were short, it still counts)
- also read a play
- school has only been in session a week and it already feels like ages
- can't wait to graduate; terrified of graduation; same old story
- my directed study proposal was denied, which was shitty
- my new directed study was proposed for me, but it should be okay, i guess
- been reading about songwriting
- checked out the complete lyrics of johnny mercer from the library
- i want to spend my life in the library
- it was 15 below yesterday

i am contemplating writing a rather lengthy entry about food, but i'm not sure i'm up to the task. i've been watching this show called "supersize v. superskinny," and i've become, for a lack of a better word, obsessed. i've always been obsessed with bodies and food and what food does to bodies. who knows. we'll see.

i'm at work and it's boring, so i don't want to leave this entry just yet. i'd like to keep going, if only to have something to do. i'm pretty much here alone with my thoughts (and my homework), so...basically i'm doing nothing.

but. off to study beethoven. this is the semester of productivity (i hope).

cleaning

2011-01-02T21:41:00.000-08:00

while cleaning my room at my mom's house, i found a poem i wrote a few years ago mimicking "The Pool Players. Seven at the Golden Shovel."

The Gang Members. Seven Waiting for their Bail Bonds.

We got hoes. We
ain't broke. We

Fuck shit. We
Take hits. We

Real thugs. We
sell drugs. We

Need bail. We
In jail.

i've also found some terrible poetry, some mediocre poetry, and a lot of notebook pages filled with the kind of existential lamenting only a fifteen year old could come up with.

reharmonizing

2011-01-01T11:10:00.000-08:00

this is the year that i graduate from college, that i am legally able to buy a drink, that i have to "grow up and get a job," that i am free to move where i please, that i become shackled by student debt.

i am going to read a lot this year, move a lot this year, write a lot this year, laugh a lot this year, sing a lot this year. i am going to meet lots of people and love lots of people.

everything is full of uncertainties. i don't know where i'm going to be living in a few months. i don't know what i'll be doing to afford where i'm living. i don't know how music is going to be working out. but it will be okay.

it doesn't feel like a "new year," but marking the passage of time has never been my specialty.

of course, to follow along with tradition, i will make a list of goals:
finish the EP
find a drummer and bassist
record with the marxists
get a job
meet more people; specifically, writers and musicians
be able to do a few pull-ups
be able to run and run and run
get some radio play (what)
participate in a slam (but don't feel guilty if i don't)
write more spoken word stuff
plan an album
maintain pen pal relationships
go hiking somewhere around the cities
write. write. write.

my posts are boring and unpoetic lately; i will give you something better later.

like the dentist.

2010-12-31T23:47:00.000-08:00

hey, kids.
when i turn twenty one, y'all owe me some dd'ing.
just sayin'.

just hand me down

2010-12-29T23:32:00.000-08:00

there's nothing quite like having a good conversation with a familiar friend while listening to familiar music on a familiar road.

life is changing quickly, and it's good to hang on to some things, at least for a little while.

starshine

2010-12-29T00:09:00.000-08:00

up late many nights in a row; thankfully many of those nights i was up with people, at parties, talking and laughing and analyzing and reading and being.

i have been more alive on this break than i have been for a while.

i am in my twenties and i am finally figuring shit out.

big post later this week, although i am enjoying spending so much time away from the internet.

first world problems

2010-12-21T12:16:00.000-08:00

i always feel just twenty pounds away from beautiful.

(everyone tries to find someone to blame for these sorts of feelings,
but i know that, in the end, it always comes back around to me.)

output

2010-12-20T19:25:00.000-08:00

so generally, i complain in this blog about my lack of writing. however, looking over this past semester, i've written a lot of songs. at least ten. and that's pretty good, considering what a wash the summer was as far as writing goes.

i've written a song suite that i'm proud of. there's a video on youtube. here is a link if you'd like to watch it. the mixing is poor and i did the recording between midnight and three in the morning, but otherwise i think it's pretty alright. the photographs were taken by my friend satpreet. you can find links to her stuff in the video description; she's magnificently talented.

i also wrote the sexiest/coolest song i've ever written this semester. it's this shuffle-y minor thing in three with an electric guitar and organ and stuff. i dunno. kind of out of character in comparison to the pale-blue piano/vocal mainstays. this is a bit darker, a bit richer. i don't have a link at the moment, as it ought to be mixed properly, but i'm not opposed to sharing with those who inquire.

so i'm growing as a musician. i need a band. i need to get my shit together in that arena. but it feels good to realize that i've been writing. and a lot, at that.

in other news, home for the holidays.
but that's for a personal post; that's for another day.
(i have lots of days, now, in which to write about whatever i choose)

the last leaf

2010-12-01T00:02:00.000-08:00

i never intended for this to become a blog for my music, but i feel like sharing this track for some reason. i just wrote it, recorded it quickly and inefficiently, and have been posting it on the internet. it's something different than i normally do, and i feel like it might signal a change for me and my writing. who knows. i've been writing more lately. it's good. it feels good.

anyway.

song here.

corner pieces.

2010-11-30T10:57:00.000-08:00

currently reading the new kings of nonfiction. it's full of wonderful stuff; i'm a bit sad that i will have to return it to the library.

now is time to start writing essays, probably.
themes and ideas i've been kicking around:
showers. (they're so solitary; those hotel commercials where they advertised good ideas from their showers; tobias funke's tears)
the "me" generation. (the internet has provided us with ways to connect to the rest of the world, and yet our biggest worry is how we look in our profile picture; formspring; blogs)
lighthouses. (something about teenagerdom in west michigan; collectors)
the rendezvous and other "family restaurants." (why are family restaurants always filled with teenagers and never with families?)
my family. (this one is complicated and difficult to navigate; it probably will be put on hold)
the student loan crisis. (nearly all of my friends and i are going to be trapped in debt; sadly, i don't currently have the contacts or experience of an investigative journalist)
my brother. (a smaller subsection of my family; i've been learning more about his life lately and it's pretty interesting to say the least)
my father. (again, a smaller section, possibly easier to deal with than the whole; harder to deal with than many other things)
healthcare. (i've been writing an essay in my head for months/years now explaining why universal healthcare is the most christian idea in existence, and questioning why it's mostly "christians" who are against it)

there are more things i could write about, probably. i'm just now learning how to see things differently, how to approach things differently, in order to write about them properly.
thank god for reading.

baa baa black sheep

2010-11-25T16:11:00.000-08:00

my family is downstairs watching football, talking about sports and black friday shopping.
i am in my bedroom, charging my phone, wishing i could stay up here and read.

i love them, i do, i just really like alone time and quiet and conversations about things that aren't sports. but all good books are about misfits and outcasts. not that i don't fit in...i don't know. i just feel different than them, some days. and i am.

they just don't really like public radio or good music or reading the kinds of books i read or anything.

also, all i wanted to do this thanksgiving was talk about how sad the beginning of our country is, but i know better than that.

blah blah blah. i should be spending time with my family. my current mantra is "when you are somewhere, be there," so i should be here, with my family, spending time with them. not sitting in my room alone. no more being anti-social!

pat on the back

2010-11-23T23:37:00.001-08:00

i had a dream where i explained to someone why i'm happy with myself.

thanks, subconscious, for reminding me.

all dolled up

2010-11-16T10:15:00.000-08:00

i need somebody to teach me how to dress myself properly.

preemptive

2010-11-15T15:59:00.000-08:00

i've got to start making lists of pros and cons of places to live again.
graduation is haunting me.

minneapolis is cold with long winters, but i know people here, which means work.
chicago is where i wanted to go to college, close to my family, and might contain my best friend, but i don't want to just follow.
new york is the city with everything, but i could easily get lost in the fray, and it scares me.
milwaukee is sitting in the midwest, unexplored, closer to michigan but still cold.
detroit is not an option.
colorado is beautiful and active, but so far from places i could play.
california is far but warm, full of different cities and places to pick.
canada has healthcare. ...toronto?

these winter, blues, man. these winter blues.
and these decisions. things are hard and there are a lot of places.

bears, beets, birthdays, etc

2010-11-14T10:05:00.000-08:00

this picture makes me laugh and also cry a little bit.

edit.

birthday run-down.

waking up too early (unhappy). texting the family (they're glad i'm around). bookstore (unsuccessful in terms of purchasing, successful in terms of wasting time and holding books). ihop (little boy singing "baby," and then telling me about his spiderman shirt). mall of america (the microsoft store is a bizarre land). grocery shopping (sample day). library (dad called). cookie-baking (so much sugar). friends, movies, youtube videos, the game of things (much better). not studying or doing homework (back to feeling nervous, strange, and a bit unhappy).

[what am i supposed to do with myself?]

loops and hurdles

2010-11-13T20:00:00.000-08:00

i'm on the verge of a new decade. twenty years isn't too long in the grand scheme of human lifespans (and is but half a second in the span of human existence, and less than that in the span of the existence of existence).

i spent my last day as a teenager working, going to the library, and sitting around my apartment. it's a saturday night. i am drinking hot chocolate and reading about how to undo writer's block. i'd rather read "the new kings of nonfiction" or "a mind of its own: a cultural history of the penis" or "siddartha" or any of the other things i checked out today, but i know this is good for me. i know that reading without writing is like drinking without peeing; it'll all get stored up and then i'll wet myself in public and cry. not to mention the kidney failure and various other implications. so, piss i must.

the reason i'm not writing is procrastination. i make everything an excuse not to write—and i make writing an excuse not to do other things. it's pathological. currently, i'm writing here instead of writing songs, or cleaning, or reading that book on writer's block.

the other reason i'm not writing is because writing is a way to deal with things, and i just don't want to lately. this is dumb. but looking at oneself and one's life and all of the inherent madness is difficult. it always is. but it needs to be done, sooner or later. (i'm just making it later out of fear of some sort.)

i suppose i'm also not writing out of a lack of confidence. there are so many writers in the world; how do i suspect to join their ranks? not just songwriters, but nonfiction writers and novelists and journalists and essayists. i want to be one of those. but it seems that there are so many of them—who am i to compete? who am i to do anything, really? and why pick writing, out of all of the things i could do, when there are obviously many other options with less competition? it's difficult.

music is rough. words are rough. i hope to be part time next semester so i can spend more time working on my craft and making money and less time feeling stressed about not writing and not making money.

this blog is just here to prove to myself that i can still put words together, i think. i know it never really had an audience beside the occasional lurker and the ever-present spambots. but that's a good thing. less pressure. i don't have to write for anyone but myself.

the public library has books on smallpox, politics, poverty, and poetry. i want to live there. maybe i should've gotten a degree in library science and lived a quiet, sensible life, just reading everything and doing nothing.

but i can't do that, now.

i am a secret.

2010-11-09T20:03:00.000-08:00

i am a piece of paper under a chair leg, slowly becoming a part of the carpet.

shut up, shut up, shut up.

2010-11-08T16:41:00.001-08:00

i keep getting spam comments on old entries of this blog. i'm not sure how to make it stop. are there key words that bots are trawling for?

whatever the case may be, they'd better stop soon.

reduce, reuse, recycle.

2010-11-07T22:03:00.000-08:00

who are you to say
that i have to stay
here

who am i to go
i didn't know

i grew these wings but i fell to the sea
i tried to swim but sank to the deep
the feathers are heavy and i am not strong
they pulled me back out and said i was wrong

who are you to stay
that i have to stay
here

who am i to go
i didn't know

(working on lyrics;
rewriting, rewriting, rewriting.
learning to lower my standards for rough drafts.)

a thousand times yes

2010-11-07T00:21:00.000-07:00

i've gotta stop doing shit like this.

(i've gotta stop thinking too much.)

please don't.

2010-11-03T15:40:00.000-07:00

it would be nice if relationships started a few years in,
so we could immediately know best friends,
and have prepackaged remember whens.

distraction

2010-11-03T09:20:00.000-07:00

i only write when i am supposed to be doing other things, and when i am supposed to be writing i start doing other things. this must mean something.

how much do i really care about this?
a lot, when i am allowed to separate myself from it.

there is a nervousness in my belly that i haven't felt in years. i don't know how to eat, lately. i am channeling characters from books and remembering how it feels to stand on bridges.

(why can't i just interact with people on my own terms?)

i have nothing to show for any of this.

i've ignored this blog.

2010-10-22T18:40:00.001-07:00

i don't make time for writing and i know it's a problem. i know that it's stupid and irresponsible and that i waste too much time on the internet or doing stupid things. but writing means having to look at things and feel things and be things and i am just tired, right now.

i've been reading viktor frankl's "man's search for meaning." it's his account of surviving the holocaust. at work on thursday, i spent an hour going through wikipedia pages about concentration camps and ss leaders and terrible, terrible things. it's hard to believe that humanity is capable of anything remotely capable of making up for the shit we do. and it's not like genocide is news to us, either. it's been going on for thousands of years and is continuing now. not to mention the reality of modern-day slavery and all of the homosexuals who are being beaten to death in africa right now.

we're terrible. really.

if there's anything i've learned by studying history, it's that human beings are terrible, terrible creatures and i hope that we get our shit together before the aliens come. or perhaps they've already made a visit and have decided that we're too horrible to stay. the things we do to each other...are beyond words.

and all of it will probably happen again. it's what we do.

maybe we should just destroy this planet until it is past human habitation, all die out, and let the earth take itself back where it needs to be. maybe that discovery channel (history channel?) special was an accurate prediction of the future...and maybe it is a good thing.

i don't know.

i'm just feeling sick. and no good seems good enough to make up for this.

switch

2010-09-22T15:14:00.000-07:00

i am constantly embarrassed

i want to quit school i want to quit school i want to quit school i want to quit school just two more semesters just two more and it's done i want to quit school i want to quit school

(it wasn't my fault!)

listen.

2010-09-19T20:17:00.001-07:00

i think i'd rather love someone unrequitedly than have someone else unrequitedly love me.

also, i hate people who, in conversation, are not listening, but waiting for their turn to talk some more.

sore

2010-09-13T07:13:00.000-07:00

woke up at exactly five this morning, coughing.
felt angry at my body; i don't have time to get sick.

i know i shouldn't be mad at the poor thing, though. it's getting attacked from the inside. what it needs now is love, instead, but i can't help but feel bitter when its defenses fail and i am stuck finding the softest foods in the pantry because it hurts to swallow.

(my journal has been keeping track of themes in my life, it seems.
last week was money, the economy, and attractiveness.
all the weeks before were loneliness.)

-sickness

2010-09-04T15:54:00.001-07:00

i want to be back in my apartment.
now.

fences

2010-08-31T23:14:00.000-07:00

lately:
looking through old journal/diary/livejournal/blog entries and realizing that many people love me
and yet i still (through my own inaction) spend much time alone.

ink stains

2010-08-28T18:59:00.000-07:00

i've decided to keep a real-life journal and try to write in it on a regular basis. no offense to you, blog, but you are on the internet which is full of the distractions that often keep me from writing.

i cut my finger while cooking dinner a few days ago. i got ink in the wound today. my cut is dyed black.

(if you don't listen to joe purdy, start. as soon as you can.)

regrets

2010-08-28T09:49:00.001-07:00

i always realize what i want when there is not enough time left to get it.

(my to-do list is consistently abandoned. i do not know what i do with my days. maybe i needed this break, but i am still upset about it. i feel uninspired, unmotivated, unsure, unwilling. i am many un-s.)

hiked through lake harbor park as the sun was setting. scraped up my legs. climbed a tree. sap all over my hands, dirt all over my feet. breathing heavily. climbing dunes is still difficult. for every step one takes, the sand slides back. one must run to get to the top.

a little bit of my blood dripped from my leg into lake michigan. i feel, now, that somehow my veins and the great lakes are sharing something. scientifically, this is unhygienic and disgusting, but if i take a step back, it is beautiful and poetic.

i need to read more, see more, learn more, watch more, touch more, listen more.

what am i doing with my time?

i need to love more.

lighthouses

2010-08-26T20:39:00.000-07:00

so many women here collect lighthouses. they put the little statuettes in their kitchens, buy the dishtowels with iron-ons. some of them have little lighthouses in the gardens in their front yards, as if calling their children into harbor once the streetlights turn on.

[this will become something, eventually.]

plans

2010-08-23T21:32:00.001-07:00

i am terrible at seeing people; i am terrible at caring.

through the night

2010-08-22T21:24:00.000-07:00

jesse harris' new album is out (new albums are out).

i'm disturbingly nostalgic, and i'm getting upset at myself from about five years ago. i call mulligan. i want high school back. i want to redo, do-over, try again. i am upset that i wasn't reckless enough, wasn't really young enough sometimes.

i am upset that i am still in an awkward stage. that i still don't know how to dress myself, really. that i still don't know what i am supposed to look or act like. i still haven't grown into myself or whatever it is you do in high school and college.

things to do in the next two weeks:
less internet, less sitting around, more outside, more reading, more writing, more exploits.
god and exploits.
god and exploits.
i have nothing to talk of lately.

uphill, both ways

2010-08-20T22:20:00.000-07:00

i want to be able to run far and fast, lift heavy things, be a primal and useful human being.

i'd also like to read more, think more, sit around and intellectualize.

i worry that i can't always use all the parts of me to their fullest potential without losing parts of the ones i'm ignoring.

somehow i will have to convince myself that braun requires brain. or something.

in other news, i am back in michigan, i am feeling the calm within the storm. i have big scratches on my arms from dog claws and i have meatless meatloaf in my belly. it is apparently my job to change the way my family moves and eats and lives, to make them healthier, to make them better, when this is something i'm not always sure how to do. we'll see how this goes. more walks are definitely in order.

i'd like to wear dresses more often. i don't know how to do that.

i'm taking some new steps towards sustainability. hopefully i don't become one of those people who talks your ear off about them. i know i'm a sorry hypocrite at least seventy percent of the time, but that other thirty percent...i'll try to convert you.

my life, as always, is a combination of guilt, tranquility, and worry. i've got three weeks off to think about things. hopefully i'll come here and share some of them. no promises, though.

(poor blog, getting neglected more often lately.
it's not you; it's me.
i'm getting burnt out.)

have you heard this song?

2010-08-01T23:10:00.000-07:00

nobody falls in love with the manic pixie dream girl.

they write movies about her, they idolize her in scripts and on film and in novels, but in real life, nobody falls in love with the manic pixie dream girl.

she's a total basket case, you know?
normal people don't go outside to watch lightening at midnight.
normal people don't run their hands over every single fabric while clothes shopping.
normal people don't put things back into strangers' grocery carts after they're dropped.
normal people don't pace around the room in attempts to make shapes in the carpet.
people fall in love with normal people, it seems.

not that these normal people aren't extraordinary in their own ways. the doctors, the lawyers, the physicists; the painters, the poets, the musicians; the outspoken, the ambitious, the driven; the kind, the caring, the ever-lastingly-loving. but they aren't as frighteningly spontaneous, as simultaneously neurotic and carefree, as everything and nothing as the manic pixie dream girl.

they want to fall in love with her, they really do, but the upkeep is too much. it's too stressful to constantly worry if she's getting herself into danger, and too taxing to constantly read her wild love poems and listen to her late-night phone calls. and she will call. two in the morning is prime time for the manic pixie dream girl, and she wants you to listen and needs you to talk. they just can't keep up with the late nights and urging to stay up 'til sunrise because it's just so beautiful.

sometimes they just want to fall in love with a girl who reads nice books, writes nice letters, has nice ambitions, and goes to sleep at night. of course she can call late at night, but only so often, and only in situations that warrant it. she can have problems and neuroses and joy and pain and a range of emotions, but she can't live the full ups and downs of the manic pixie dream girl. they just want to fall in love with someone easy to handle.

(wrote this too late at night, on trace amounts of caffeine, trying to make sense of this stereotyped character and what she means for our generation and society, but only got this. i apologize; i'm sure it's a let down. i must go to bed now.)

'saurs

2010-07-27T17:25:00.000-07:00

memories are tar pits and i am a dinosaur, slowly sinking.

i'll be in them forever.

steering wheel

2010-07-26T22:34:00.001-07:00

i both laughed and cried uncontrollably today with little to no impetus, with little to no thought during. it was as if my body had decided to become an emotion without the help of my brain, completely and totally converted.

or maybe it was just trying to say, "it's okay. you don't have to be in control all the time."

resurgence

2010-07-25T15:53:00.000-07:00

i haven't been writing much of anything at all, so for the next fifteen minutes, i'm going to write here. possibly about not writing. possibly about nothing at all. i have to do this, though, to prove to myself that i still have words in me and that i am still capable of utilizing language.

i've been thinking about putting together some essays in a sort of sedaris-esque form, except i won't claim to be as funny or good or any other adjective he is. i've been toying around with the idea of writing sketches of different moments from my adolescence (and, more specifically, my parents' divorce and the inherent confusion) and getting a head start on memoirs before i hit twenty. you never know when you're going to die, is what i say.

i've also been thinking about fiction, but i feel the creativity has been sucked out of me, what with going to school for music and writing and constantly having to create in order to pass. i can't think of characters or plots or anything unique or interesting or even remotely original. toying with this idea, too, i have realized that i don't know if i would want to have a main character that's a woman. i feel like, since i'm a woman, it would be assumed that making the main character a woman implies me asserting my woman-ness, that writing from a woman's perspective will make the book more about being a woman than about being a human being, that i would have to fight to say "this is about x, not about feminism." if i wrote as a man, though, the book could be about "x" and not about being a man, not about masculinity, not about the state of being a man today. this is just a thought i had, though - i don't know if there is any reality in that claim. i just feel like there is.

i'm starting to get my crap together for an ep, and by "get my crap together" i mean that i'm getting other people involved so i'll feel guilty enough to work on it. i'm part jewish and part roman catholic. i'm a guilt-making machine.

i'm not a songwriting machine anymore, though. this is sad to me. i just. can't. write. i can edit, with help. i can make a verse and then quit. but the days of a song in half an hour are waning. when is the wax? come back to me, passion, insistency, oh-my-god-these-words-are-popping-out-of-me. i am afraid of losing my powers. i feel like delilah has cut off my hair and has left me speechless.

maybe it's because i don't go outside enough anymore. i'm constantly cooped up. classes and work during the summer are a great idea in the long run but a depressing situation right now. also, this perpetual lack of close friends that are also in close proximity. i can safely say i have one of those on a regular basis. well, maybe one and a half. but my other friends are mostly superficial, or at least ten hours in a car from a good real-life conversation. maybe i need to combine going outside and finding people. maybe i should just walk around college campuses in the area, striking up conversations with people who seem intelligent. hang out in the english departments, ask people what they think about the brothers karamazov. look as pretentious as possible. make friends with astronomy majors and watch carl sagan together. (i miss real college.)

there are no poems in my head and no songs in my heart these days, but if i force prose out of my body then perhaps they will slide back in. i'm hoping so. not that prose is a bad thing - i very much like it - it's just that i can only write the driest of words with only the barest of reasons.

so the fifteen minutes end. there you go.

work

2010-07-24T21:23:00.001-07:00

i ought to write more.

but i should also go out and experience things to write about.

best

2010-07-03T21:57:00.000-07:00

i am not good with the youth. i am not good with people my own age, with people half my age, with people twice my age. i am not good with people. i love them. they love me. we don't love each other (the right way, the way i want).

i am perplexed by cell phones and too flustered for letters. i am caught up with strangers but too afraid to talk to those i know. i watch people from a distance in the park, but i don't have the confidence to walk up to an artist at a show. never, never.

how do people make friends?
i don't know if i am any good at it.
i am scared of people; i am shy.
i am lonely.
i have a lot of good in me.
promise.

i just talk too loudly.
i just hide in the corner with my mouth shut.
i just don't know what to do with my awkward body.
i just haven't done this in so long.

(i miss people i still talk to.
we change. we change. we change.)

lucky in cards

2010-06-30T21:05:00.003-07:00

unlucky in love.

i've been winning at gin rummy lately.

i need to write a song about it, probably.
it's just that everyone writes about this shit.
but i guess it's because everyone likes to sing along.

on a different note, the smartest thing i've ever written in a freewrite:
"we begin and end crying."

father's day

2010-06-21T13:30:00.000-07:00

sent a card, called. felt like this:

i know, i know, internet memes. (it's where i spend my time these days, anyway.)

missed nick drake's birthday, but i guess i always do, on accident. listening to clem snide's "nick drake tape," now.

i should be writing a paper, but i'm too busy feeling.

thumbs up and out

2010-06-14T13:37:00.000-07:00

oh, hello, self-medication-through-eating.

you were the worst possible hitchhiker i could've picked up on my road to (what was supposed to be) success. but now you've hopped into the passenger seat, here to convince me that eating five handfuls of goldfish-cracker ripoffs called "whales" is a positive solution to looking at swimsuits for the past few days and feeling like a beached whale myself. you operate entirely in the ironic, don't you?

well, tomorrow. tomorrow i will conquer you. i will vanquish you with sensible portion sizes and fruits and vegetables. i will begin working out instead of eating up.

tomorrow.

today i will finish off a few more cherries and then whine for a little while about this research paper.

(the rain...the rain is bringing me down, man.)

home improvement

2010-06-09T08:49:00.000-07:00

i want this to be the summer i am happy with myself.

here is a list of things.
i am sort of hoping the public-shaming technique might work out for me.

- get down to a weight i feel good about
- dress better (i.e., abandon the t-shirt most of the time)
- take more walks
- go out and about and explore more
- go to more shows
- spend less time on the internet
- spend more time consuming art
- start putting videos of my songs/cover songs online
- record more songs
- write more poems
- participate in at least one slam
- make a few more friends
- stop saying "but i can't because"

not yet awake

2010-06-08T07:46:00.000-07:00

dreams about the river, the ocean, tornadoes on the 18th floor hitting the window, knocking on the door.

what material things are important to me?
what would i save in an emergency?
i didn't know.

also, poetry slams are intensely enjoyable but also make me feel inadequate.

oh, man, guys.

2010-06-02T13:28:00.001-07:00

all i can think about is quitting school, finding some sort of this-can-pay-the-bills job (hopefully involving some sort of appropriate nerdery) and just reading and writing all day, and making music when i can. i could do that without going into debt for it. i could do that without a school. i could do that on my own. whatever.

my insides are nervous - i'm doing that thing where i'm not getting things done, where i'm not taking care of my personal life. i'm doing that thing where i procrastinate and it makes me feel sick. i'm doing that thing where i'm very worried but simultaneously telling myself that everything always works out, and then telling myself that sometimes things don't work out. i don't know what part of me is lying and what part is telling the truth. maybe both of them.

i'm sitting on my hands, and not going to financial aid, not figuring out my car situation, not talking to my family about important things. not doing, not doing, not doing. i wish i were just being. (when is it my turn to float down a river? i want to train my body to know that. i want to feel that sort of calm, that kind of adrenaline rush, that wash of peace.)

but i don't know. i don't know.

i just worry that i've lost my passion for this. i don't care as much about music as i did four years ago. i like writing songs. i like playing with my little band. but i don't know if i can do this as myself, if this is what should happen, if i will be happy here. i don't know if i want to stand up in front of people every week and ask for their attention with a song. i don't know if i can go through that constantly and call it a career. this is all probably just pre-graduation nerves, a quarter-life crisis. but they scare me, these doubts. what on earth am i supposed to do? barrel on through, i suppose.

(good things happen to good people, right?)

riverman

2010-06-01T22:40:00.001-07:00

gonna tell him all i can.

it's so good to see good friends, so good to hear incredible stories, so good to eat bad-for-you food, so sad to see dreams fall apart like the seats of canoes.

listing, listening

2010-05-23T18:21:00.000-07:00

things i've been writing lately:

pieces of poems
jokes
beginnings of unsent letters
songs about death
songs about home
songs about wanting
mostly unfinished songs

mostly unfinished things