Tuesday, December 30, 2008

I love Katy Perry.

I don't like how the actor from Kyle XY is the guy, because I think Kyle XY is lame. But I love Katy Perry. And I like this song a lot /:

Inconsistencies Somehow Make Me Consistent


"Those that are tore to shreds in the moment that you were in two dimensions
Just two dimensions"

So marred by the things I can never say.

I need my silence to be broken. I need some encouragement that I don't have to banter with vague and ambiguous words that never lets anyone in. I, though it feels like I try, never let anybody in. I should understand, I should've known it'd hurt any which way how.

It is safe to say that I've left parts of my self fragmented in different house, different hands, different hearts. And I can't put it back together because I've lost count and forgot where exactly I'd left all of myself. Or I know, I remember, but of course, I won't tell you, because I won't even tell myself. I just keep thinking that I deserve to have a fork hanging out of my rib cage and a little label reading DONE.

Is it safe to say that I've tried? It's probably safer to say that I am stupendous at pushing and shoving and hanging up the phone and pretending like I really don't have anything to say. When all it is, is that I can open my mouth, but I know it'll just be me and the dial tone in the end. Or maybe just the hush sound of my breath.

What I'd done wrong was disregard the realization that no one has ever really tried before, so what was the exception this time? I am beneath the doubts, swallowed by a wonder when I'll be good enough, and wallowing what I'd really done wrong.

I know,

I waited for time to peek the profile of its self and for me to brace it when I see what I'd been seeking. And I think it's here, and it came as I'd least expect that greatness of being below the heart of someone that I didn't belong to. And it wasn't fair of me. To partially love.

Here we go,

I'm screwing with paragraphs again, to fill in the empty spaces where you left your mark. And I come back to that. Because which blankness I'd take on for the next week to tell me that this is it, it slips and I forget to get it back. There is only one thing of me,
And what is it to be broken when you were once complete?

What is it to be incomplete?

I'm sorry.

I'm always sorry...

Saturday, December 27, 2008

I'm Not Much of a Talker Though I've So Much to Say

Endings Without Stories

"I watched the smile fade from your face
You bled till there was nothing in your veins"

So, it's always so quiet.

I was always good with secrets. Not today. I'm just so sure they know. I'm just so sure they always knew.

There is no such trust that runs its way so dynamically, not even with myself. I can't even tell myself. Maybe if the truth stays on my bed where I leave it every morning, it won't have to think of me.

I built it this way. Suffice to say that there won't be anything left but the boldness of a cold night that heated through, when denial dissipates and all of the days fall down in front of me like I'd never sinned before. It was never the fault's fault that had me questioning the momentum I'd taken. That we'd taken. Because I know that faults had been set where they display flawed cracks of chances that enveloped no such luck. There is no such luck for the faces that set like mine, where they display flawed cracks of obstructions that revoked themselves once I'd ever committed.

I built it in a way that I can shatter my own barriers. That I can set limits that gave me the opportunity to set it limitless any which way. I do not trust the hands that appoint themselves in initiative to me as if this whole hoax of a life stood a chance. It won't be long, and that's all I need to say to myself to pretend it all just isn't happening.

With all honesty--though honesty left all of us with out a choice but to believe again in this whole hoax of a notion that there is a truth--it isn't happening. The pretense to pretend that it all just isn't happening when all I mean to say is that nothing is happening, and I won't do anything about it.

If they know, then I'll seal myself shut. And perhaps in the near future I can get myself to stab it on paper, though I see it as just a chance to ignite the lighter and set it on fire, watch it burn in front of the dark and behind it is me, watching me not happening, at all.

There is nothing more perplexing than my hopelessness, hopefulness, and the reminder that I have built it in this way that you all know with out really knowing anything. Anything at all.

I'm sorry.
I'm always sorry.

Thursday, December 25, 2008

The Curious Case...

Baby, It's Cold Outside

"Can't you stay awhile longer?"

So, hail shook and crashed down our roofs and opened my eyes to what looked like, a disturbed morning. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, not till the afternoon. It should've been so dull. The uneventful event of the constant spaghetti enjoyment and the DVD mayhem and the house only quiet to the tender music that made me think of you.
But we kept exclaiming, "THIS IS THE BEST CHRISTMAS EVER!" Well, this was the quietest Christmas. Compared to the previous year's packing to leave the country, and the year before that. I can only recall sitting in front of the computer and gaining some friendships. I liked it.

My family and I went to see The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. I was excited to expect the theaters to be uncrowded, and nearly empty. But it was astonishing to see that we couldn't even find ONE decent parking space because the whole Landing was infested with The Nothing Better To Do's. But I suppose that's a lot for me to say, counting that WE we're there.

All of the night's complications were interesting to experience.

3 hour movie, I loved it.

Anyway, I don't feel a sense of creativity to be playful at the moment. I'll just rant. Therefore; Happy Holidays my Not-Readers, aha, 'cause like anybody really reads this.

Tuesday, December 23, 2008

So, I should let myself put it this way.

I saunter through every which way I can break it, I can go back to it, I can let it swallow me whole and maybe, like I want to, I can disappear. But as it swallows me whole, I just provoke, and provoke and it's as if I never wanted anything but the comfort of BEING swallowed whole. Never though, I never disappear.

It is too warm in my quarters. It is too comfortable, it is too unkind, as it patronizes me and unleashes the advocate in the devil. With just that, glassy eyes to the ceiling, mouth partially open, I refuse to even defend myself anymore. Just a little sensitive, they know I can't take it. Maybe he does too. Or maybe he hasn't caught on.

"There is something wrong with me..." And I stop there, right before I think I might be able to release. They won't understand, they won't look at it the same. But I feel like they know. Like they knew before I did. They just don't know what it is I have the potential to do.

Never on paper because I don't expect you to understand...

The every single night, I open the door to the cold, your shoes just put on, and you pull me out with you, I was capable of letting myself. Eyes like I've never seen them before. They're so small, so dark, and gentle as ever. You felt so strong just then, like you can take me over and take me on and even as I refuse and deny you, you could've won me. You could've had me pegged just then. Just then, but I still could never belong to anybody.

What I'd give to see you like that the every single time. What I'd give to have you look at me like that, the every single time.

Just then.


Monday, December 22, 2008

Me and my fucking faces, I swear I would really hurt it.

"You're the meanest person I know!" You're right babe. And you don't even know the half of it.

Leave me be. Leave me alone. Leave me at all. And I know you won't.

4 days from now, 3 months ago. "Would you like some company?" And my fucking world changed.

I keep swearing. I swear I won't keep it.

Wednesday, December 17, 2008

Prioritizing At Worst


"Use me up
Use me up
Taper off and I'm had"

Dry, cold air. My favorite..

Nothing clever to say, nothing insane enough to be abstract about. I hate the weather, I hate the morning. I hate the night, awake as itself, endeavored by failed attempts, failed executions. My executions. Disdain accentuated by nothing I can really think of... Just a thought I could disappear today, tonight, maybe tomorrow. But I don't. But I don't think I'd care. But I don't know. And here we go again.

What's it take to keep me up at night? To get me up when the sun's rises? To have me standing through the afternoon?
I have an idea, I have a notion. Let me just slap myself around a few times, beat my insides out, and tell me I'm no good for nothin'. That always works. No? Too bad.

I have to get back to my quarters now. I have to find a really good reason exhaust myself with the best of the most infuriating. I have to rest it on spin cycle, rinse, repeat. And back to where my contours rest. With two...

Monday, December 15, 2008

Sounds Like A Rainy Day

Two Days, It's Unusual

I'm Not A Thief, I'm a Treasure Hunter

"I think it's safe to say you're deadly in your own way"

But it's safer to say that I'm an asshole in my own way.

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.
Sometimes, I think about it. If I'd consider. But,
Inescapable; was that the word I'd used before?


Instead of being better for you, I'm only growing worse.

I'm sorry..
I'm always sorry..

Sunday, December 14, 2008

Even the Fox Couldn't Keep Me Safe

Give 'Em Hell, Kid

"If you were here I'd never have a fear
So go on live your life
But I miss you more than I did yesterday"

I said to him, "She's one of the most important people in my life. I thought you should know that, if anything."

And if he understood how I came off, I guess I'll find out.

To dim the fact that I'm not so sick after all, well, I'm just a liar. I try to smile above it and polish it off. But in the end of the day, I lay in bed committing infidelities in my own head. Same song, same lines, and this isn't really happening.

And I try to swallow the fact that I can't feel anything anymore, that nothing can penetrate. As it's been sung to me more times that I can imagine. It's not true.
It won't ever be.

I wrote a warning letter. I'd never sent.

My sister said I'm such a bitch. She's right. Only someone with a right mind wouldn't do the things I do. Wouldn't say the things I do. Wouldn't think the things I do.

And I don't know where this little entry has taken me, but here I am.

What I deserve will come for me, and so I hold my breath for the rest...

Friday, December 12, 2008

Afro Picks, White Jeans, and a Nice Little Story that Hasn't Ended

Cold Light

"Cold light, Hot night
Be my heater be my lover"

Friday I'm in loooooooooooove - At least SOMEONE understood that I was wearing The Cure shirt. No Joker, you bops [sorta].

Wednesday, December 10, 2008

My whole left jaw is numb.

The dentist's office is cold, and reeks of clean and artificial aerosol spray berry wonders. I daze in complete nonsense every time I spend my patience in there. Today, I napped on their couch and didn't even give a fuck that I might've looked like a dead bum lain across.

I really.. I really need a release. Vent?

I have dependent and reliant problems. Being in a relationship [which, I have to admit, is still a little foreign and new again to me] requires me to let go of all these things that I'd acquired from the duration of my being single It's not difficult to adapt. It's just something...
I am...very afraid of losing the sense of my independence. It was all I'd had for such a long time. I don't intend on investing my all. I can't really afford that. I just, I don't know how much that could hurt him and I.
My friends; well my friends. I tell myself everyday to keep my eyes on them. To keep a light, kung-fu grip on them. If I'd hesitated about anything, it would've been the worry of growing away from my friends. Honestly, I shudder at the thought of me, spending ALL my time with my boyfriend. If I could, I would. If nothing in my life would collapse and fall and if time stood still, then I would be more than happy and satisfied to be with just him. But I can't lose balance. What happens if I lose him? [which I could. No forevers, people break up you know] Then I'd be more than a little alone. All I'm being is...cautious and wary. It gets rough trying though. I'm starting to reach a state when all I want is his company. Bad Angie, bad.

Fuck, listen to me rant like a teenager. How irritating, I sound like the rest of you.

Sorry ! x:

Tuesday, December 9, 2008

Precisely Indefinite

Nothing Better

"Don't you feed me lines about some idealistic future
Your heart won't heal right if you keep tearing out the sutures"

I'm always stealing. Taking. Covetting. Denying. And lying.

The night was revealing. Soft and satisfied as I took some air, sinner at its most innocent. Door swung open through to the right just the television and it's right-minded lies. I sound brain-dead in a sense that you around me, more passionless than I'd ever be. I'm sorry, but it's true if anything. Oh, right. I'd been narrating about my night.
Less is more that now I feel the want exuding out of hungry hands, shoulders, welcoming chest. Bleeding lips and a gasp of air, tangling hair. They won't know, just one more to promise. Fighting a struggle to resist, rapacious strokes.
Enamored by the concepts of body parts and the imaginative intense tenses of adjectives that seem famished and inflamed. Exaggeration is the escape enough to satisfy my dismal functions.

Sunday, December 7, 2008

At Loss of a Desire to go off on a Tangent

The Faint and Precious Sounds

"In the event of your unfulfillment don't replace me in that sorry state, oh no
Know that it all seems so intriguing
When thoughts of me start leaving you behind, behind
And I hope you, you understand that I'm not leaving, going anywhere
Hope that you, you understand that I'm not leaving, going anywhere"

The weekend has given me a good opportunity to increase the reassurance that I need what I want to need.

I am in control. I should be in control. I will be in control.
Team Jacob; hahax3

Friday, December 5, 2008

Rude and Loud; x3

Wait Until I'm Gone

"You always were...
You always were so good to me"

It's about time I stopped brooding away my ways of writing. Ha, can't take the kid from the dark, take the dark from the kid. Yes, thank you.
I just began writing about my day on here.
Summarizing the events I'd done and how I'd felt the past few days in a direct and completely comprehensible way for ANYONE. But it felt ridiculously tedious and unlike me. So I highlighted it all, and hit backspace.

I sit here now, with still the thoughts of today and the every type of emotion that flashed and didn't flash across my face.
I no longer count the amount of moments we try say good bye. Someone has to watch someone walk away.
We're just not allowed to leave...

I've stolen. I'm wanting. I'm taking. But I dream of something else.

How it goes tonight, we'll see.

Letter # 8; It gets harder, worse, and easier everyday. Kill me now while I'm smiling. Or you could kill me now 'cause I must deserve it.

Thursday, December 4, 2008



'When we're gone I feel I'll never miss anyone"

The safest and the warmest, where I'd left my mark I intended on keeping, as if I'd withdrawn from my memories and rose again to rest like I'd never rested before.

"Are you happy Angie?"

When I'm right where I could be, head lain across those shoulders.

"Are you happy Angie?"

When I'm right where I could be, heavy breaths to that chest.

"Are you happy Angie?"

When I'm right where I could be, just those hands in my pockets.

"Are you happy Angie?"

When I'm right where I could be, right where I should be.

The safest and the warmest, where I'd left my mark I intended on keeping, as if I'd withdrawn from my memories and rose again to rest like I'd never rested before.

Somebody wants me.


Wednesday, December 3, 2008

The Cure Knows Which Songs I Need to Put Me on Fire


"I catch your eyes in the dark
One look relives the memory..."

I've arts to show and teach Passion provocative means eye to eye flesh to flesh jumping skin down throats and necks Palms tepid, sultry grazing jaws Lips artfully traveling highways and bridges Delicate breaths deep-heavy, fast-slow Motion gather emotion around and around Eyes closed hard, biting and inviting through stories in absolute direct narration Decimating any space any air any crevice any breach Cave in next to me along the lines of my muffled sounds to soothe just to crave in with me Grasping the right heat to appease the frigid arctic collection in the tips of my fingers Inside small of the back rip down shoulders laying arms smoldering neck screaming my name, sighing my name, demanding my name…

I’ve been blessed and cursed with an explosive, intensive, and vehement passion only to be fused with a searing fervid desire that suppresses anything else to a pigmented gray blur.

I’ve a burning hole in my chest...

Tuesday, December 2, 2008

A Dearth of (my) Senses

I Can't Win

"Walking on the ground you're breaking
Laughing at the life you're wasting"

I'm lacking any comprehension of images to face and lines to read and people to converse with. I'm lacking any restraint to be resilient when it crashes right by my feet and blows up my face. I'm lacking any truth, the greater good always in mind. No, no I just don't have a choice. Utilitarian, never.

I'm lacking any logic. Logic could break your heart, not mine. Just complicated and bleak. Eleven seconds till I know where you are, till I know where I'll be. And through here, I strapped down, elevated by hopeless hopes just to descend in abysmal withdrawal.

I'm lacking any diversions cutting up my mentality. December that I'd win and lose from November thresholds when who I'd been when I entered would never be if I get out. I'm lacking any receptivity. Except when it comes to the red raw thing. In my room, out of control when I'd leave my compressed and impenetrable red raw thing beating steady somewhere. It thumps itself a reception closed to all with an exception.

Honestly, honestly, I'm lacking any composure. Because I'd left it on my bed where I'd lain my limbs and bones the night and nights before.

Monday, December 1, 2008

Multiple personalities.

I'd take in.

I'd be roughly 9 different people on paper, print, in words.

My words.

I don't know me either.

Nice and Slow

I Love, You Love

"Still return
Still return to love
Keep coming back to love"

He's not tall. He's not outgoing. He's not even my type.
He's the shy kid that used to be in his corner, pushing and forcing away the world he never wanted. Me, who he never intended.

He seemed all wrong to me.

I want him just the same.

So I'll soak in, sink close, pull near.

Patience and passion;

Just what I needed.

Sunday, November 30, 2008

Fight Club

Supermassive Black Hole

"Glaciers melting in the dead of night
And the superstars sucked into the supermassive"

Self-obsession; a little disturbing, a little unsettling.

Broken glass in bits rather than shards. Boring in the pieces it shattered, I stared and flared. Bold in the second I knew. Bewildered as the thought I'd take on barefoot, bathing in warm burns. Rough and smooth, in the morning with pleasant dispositions. Lost in a second above my own floors, my own will to be willing.

I've every courage to state what I'm willing to die for. I've no courage to state what I'm willing to live for. It's as if you'd hear me, I'd dissolve pitifully, empty-handed. If they'd hear me, I can grin and pretend I'm the masochist I may not be. Fucked in the head with the games we play.

Tomorrow's Monday, week day; Another reason for all my abraded faces.

Friday, November 28, 2008

"Tender Music" -Afterall

Living Together

"With an effortless smile you pervade to be
Always in between aisles (They said you must stare to see)
An optimistic Daring me"

I bought pants. Jeans in fact.
You like me best in them. Because they're made like you could be part of me.

I'm fixing myself, you don't have to know it. It's for the best, and the best isn't always easy. I've got twenty-one questions for every tomorrow, as I build myself to me and rip you down to mine.

There's still leaves in my bag,
Autumn mine, autumn yours.

I don't know, but this break is too long.

Thursday, November 27, 2008


Words Get in the Way

"Your temperamental moody side
The one you always try to hide from me"

Robitussin -
I should've spiked your meal.
I am the worst prick on the face of today; for you at least.
I'm sorry...

I knew it was only a matter of time that you meet with my silence. The aggravating way I can't look at you even as you pull my face to yours. The way you ask in your gentlest patient voice, and I knew you were struggling...
But I unleashed my silence regardless. The long, inconsiderate concept of why I can't say anything. Why words, for someone of my mentality, won't let you in. Why I just want to bury myself to you because I know someone finally wants me. But I push away. Slow and uneasy.

And I knew you'd walk right out that door. The hushed slam that you left behind as you disappeared outside, as you try not to hurt me so much.
I found tears breaking themselves from me once I was alone, but I didn't let them break either...

What I hadn't expected was that you'd come back. Tear-stained as we tend to be in this house, you fight a smile, and you're soaked from the rain...

And I know I have to fix myself.

I am the worst prick on the face of today; for you at least.
I'm sorry...

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Brooding is All the Rage

Your Bruise

"It's getting bluer and you can't keep faking
that you can't feel this anymore"

It's raining.
It's just about time.

My spine screams a chill as I plant myself in any stationary formation because I love distancing from comfort. I can't trust myself.

My living room smells like the cold. A comforting cold that I used to confide in when I couldn't help but smile or couldn't stand but cry. I loved it like that. Easy complexities of being young and knowing you're wrong and flawed and free to be. I can't be free to be. Not when I weigh of a boulder on a cliff, ready to take control to lose control.

My bruise. It follows me where ever I go. When I'm singled alone or shoved a crowd, it's there. On me, all over me. Every time I lay down and stare at my ceiling, I can only picture painful things. I can only feel the burns of...

Just give me a second.

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

An Ascertain Aftermath

Pachuca Sunrise

"At this moment, where I sit,
none of it seems real"

Grip and control, none of which moments I stammer with the rerun of a night I'd been bored in half, in thirds, right in the middle, right, always the left.

Three things engulf my morning; you and you and me. I'm a prick that survived with a bag of luck and drilling wishes. How I got here, and get there, is out of my guesses. I'll get what I deserve, soon enough.

I patiently hunch with the heaviness of a nothing. Of an emptiness. Of a void so filled I feel guilty it's empty. I have nothing to say to anyone. Nothing but to blame that it's what I listen to that's making me so dark. But I haven't seen the sun in 4 days, how dark could I possibly get?

Desperation of my ever silent calls, I can't get myself to cry. I'd cry. I'd cry better than keeping my mouth shut, my eyes closed, and ear-splitting conversations and gestures that chews me out.

I discovered the accumulation. A collection and recollection, recycled used and abused. Creased papers I'd eventually memorized and new lines that proves further how I deserve the holes I'd gained. I slam pictures down, rainy songs. I breathe easy, wash you off, and slip into something a little less comfortable. A little more appropriate.

A soft white of knuckles feels soft cotton that I returned to, and just the right words to tell me,

It'll catch up to you.

Monday, November 24, 2008

Sunday, November 23, 2008

To Speak and Feel

Hard Feelings

"Two mirrors in the middle of the world
Passersby thinking modern love"

Stoic, I repeated.

More than half of the time, I scrape through with out the taste of passion. I drag my flimsy legs passed some stiff competition and realize I'm so incapable. I'm so calm I'm pale safe to the edge of forgetting to speak and feel.

I'm excellent at ignoring myself. With myself, I've got nothing to lose. Unless being next to...
I know they're looking and I have to make them happy. Happier than I can never make the burning hole in my chest happy.

Passionless, I repeated.

It's either me or you. It'll never. I'll never. I can never. You may...

I can't fix myself It hurts to feel you.

Saturday, November 22, 2008

Deprivation of Valuable Quality

You Are The Dark

"But the dream about the autumn leaves
And you were one
Falling in the sun
Where are you now?

I'm exhausted.

And when exhaustion hits, my mind seem to settle in a cozy little affair with thoughts of death. Thoughts of accidents, and incidents, and vanished existences, and morbidity that I've yet to point the origins of.

Back in elementary school, I once decided that when I were to die, I wanted to die a slow, tragic death. I said to my schoolmates that I'd be stabbed through the heart. And I meant it. I guess I convinced myself that I deserved it.

I imagine myself in endless car accidents. I catch myself sitting in a car and playing a complete scene. Sometimes I survive, sometimes I'm in the coffin. I don't know, but I never seem to imagine my life as an adult aging to death. I always die early in my head.

I mean it, I'm not suicidal. There are rare occasions that I wake and realize there are some things really worth living for. But unless those days are here, I become exhausted.
I shift to auto pilot and pretend.

It's a deep, hollow exhaustion.

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Burr and Boone

Syrup and Honey

"Baby baby baby
Spend your time on me"

I don't like the fact that I searched through some ON-Demand music and found MY JGorbel all up in it. I was disappointed. I love them too much to be sucked up by eck. Is this asking for so much?
If I spend half my time complaining about how cold it is, it makes me think that maybe it'll get irritated enough and just leave me alone. Maybe it'll be summer earlier this year. Oh I can only pray, can't I?
I never wear my own clothes anymore.

I don't know, but that commercial gets me all the time.
Burr and Boone, autumn mine, autumn yours. My way, you said I could get my way.
You can have it your way, you said.
I hope my way won't get you lost.

This part of town gets tricky, gets sticky.
Promise me you'll be cautious.

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

Quiet. Talk. Fight. Chase. Talk. Quiet.

Semi-Constructive Criticism

"Leave out the meaning this time Let tensions evolve
Intimate groove confused In childish tantrums"

I overslept this morning, but awoke just in time.

I can't focus in class, but I keep doing my work.

I lost nearly complete appetite, but I'm always fed.

Digestion of self-knowledge,
I scare myself.


Monday, November 17, 2008

Some Days I Spaz Out?

How Deep is Your Love?

"And the moment that you wander far from me
I wanna feel you in my arms again"

I'm hearing this song more often than ever, unintendedly.
It's Monday, dull as ever. I threw swings of my moods up in the air for some company to catch. And I lie, I lie all the time.
Head bowed to my ambiguity, squeezed me stone and I just couldn't say it back.
I'm sorry, I just can't say it back.

Letter #7; Kill me now, I must deserve it.

Sunday, November 16, 2008


So Contagious

"I know it's crazy but I'm hoping to...
To take a hold of you"

There is...

A burning hole in my chest.

Thursday, November 13, 2008

One More Day...

Teach Me

"Let no one get close me..."

My mother is best person in the world. I should've inherited her warm, strong, hard-working heart.
She works with out complaint. I see her for an accumulated few hours every week. The thought of the barrier between us is heart-breaking. So I try not to think about it.

My father is the best person in the world. I should've inherited his patience, understanding, and hard-working heart.
He works with out complaint. I see him for a little more than few accumulated hours every week. The thought of the barrier between us is heart-breaking. So I try not to think about.

My parents are the best people in the world. I should've inherited their hearts.
I wish to some day find a way to break our barriers,

and one day, I'll look into their eyes and tell them how much they mean to me.

Because I lay awake at night, thinking over how far we've gone from each other, but still knowing that I am the luckiest person in the world.

The luckiest person in the world has the best people in the world to thank.
Tomorrow, I hope to be with the Black Ranger.
Tomorrow, marks three years.

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

The Twelfth

Soft, Pale and Pure

"Cause I've been thinking of this place forever, I know
It's all that I, I've come to know
As I slowly lose control
Slowly, I lose"

I'm stealing, wasting, and watching time.

I know it's redundant but I need a job... terribly. I want to be able to last through the holidays. And I know that I can't live off of my parents' money to indulge in self-processed, superficial happiness. I also can't step outside the house with out money anymore. Isn't that ridiculous? Well I'm sure I'm capable, but it's so confining, so limited. And during these of seasons, I just want to want, understood?

I'm stealing, wasting, and watching time.

I want to bake. With our tin can boxes of treats and cookie sheets. Snow doesn't exist here, but I star in the movie, right? It goes the way I want, with who I want, with what I have. I'm ready to feel warm, brown and collected in the best of my memories. ...Socks are starting to really like me.

I'm stealing, wasting, and watching time.

Yes, I actually do slide off my bed. Its small surface let's me lose myself and tangle under and around the dreams that were just thoughts a few seconds ago, along with the sheets fighting with me. One night, one night I'll have the best sleep of my life.

I'm stealing, wasting, and watching time.

Letter # 5, kill me now while I'm smiling.

Tuesday, November 11, 2008


Sleeping with Giants [Lifetime]

"Oh we stood there, awkward and youthful, we tangled;
a piece of my soul escaped"

There might be something terribly wrong with me. I couldn't help but question today and yesterday like I'll soon make a painful mistake that I'll make regardless the knowledge that I'll make it.


I could just be afraid of the fact that something is starting to matter to me again... And how long have I pushed away from anything remote that?

Lighten up Ange, ha.

"Are we wasting time or is it wasting us?"

Monday, November 10, 2008

Kina Grannis, Hello

She's wonderful, my oh my.


Heey Are You...

Trouble Sleeping

"This constant compromise between thinking and breathing"

Demain, nous n'avons pas ...school. Therefore, I plan on having the good day avec mon copain.

Nivea Lip Moisturizer commercials are my feel good moments.
Letter 4, kill me now while I'm smiling.

Sunday, November 9, 2008

Letter #3

I Want to Hold Your Hand

"Oh yeah, I'll tell you something
I think you'll understand"

I couldn't sing because I was asleep. I couldn't sing because I peeked out the window, and I was squinting.

I laid an hour in bed, pretending to be asleep. The time set wrong, my phone along the dusts, my pillow just slightly memorizing you.

We never get anything done. We never get anywhere far. The two dullest people that spend sitting and knowing, along the way that you don't have a clue what this could be.

And yet I find myself questioning in paranoia and fear...

That what the hell am I talking about..

Friday, November 7, 2008

Quatorze Novembre?--Already.

Fix You Up

"And what I figured out,
what I figured out,
what I figured out
was I needed more time to figure you out"

I need some alone time, world.
There's always someone to please,
Someone to laugh at
to laugh with.
Someone to sit next to,
sit on,
sit by.
My cheeks are starting to hurt because sometimes I'd just like to be with my room, to lay, to listen, to think.
And I need to stop avoiding my radio. He left me alone for one straight week, refusing to function in the cold of the mornings. I guess I understand. I've had two mornings this week when I seriously wanted to die.
I didn't want to wake up, I didn'tt want to get ready. I just wanted my bed to swallow me whole and to disappear where my consciousness can't find existence at all. I'm not being suicidal, I promise. I just dread not making it through winter.
Fremont cops are assholes. "They treat their job like a business..." -FC.
I hope... I hope he stays here... with me...
Even weekends are starting to rough up..............................
Vhong Navarro, your fans climb rice sacks just for you.
I can't wait to sleep at night. I can't wait till the morning gets better. I can't wait till ...
One more week; November 14th. Mmm...
Letter #2, kill me now while I'm smiling.
Sugar, stay away from me.
Squeeze x3

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

Is It Summer Yet...


"...And how your heatwave ran
through our snow black fields"

I have all the rights to complain and whine and bitch here till my fingers [or teeth] fell right off, just not the will.

My dad actually turned on the heater this morning, and they made coffee. Rare morning that I don't want to get enough of.
I never want to fucking talk about anything.

Jarrod Gorbel Pictures, Images and Photos

Jarrod Gorbel Pictures, Images and Photos

Jarrod Gorbel Pictures, Images and Photos

Jarrod Gorbel Pictures, Images and Photos

jarrod gorbel honorary title Pictures, Images and Photos

JARROD GORBEL Pictures, Images and Photos

Tuesday, November 4, 2008

139 - 338, Let's Give it a Rest

What Sarah Said

"But I knew that you were a truth I would rather lose than to have never lain beside at all"

I'm starting to really shake,

Really etch between my synthetic warmth,

Really rely on only one,

Really afraid that there's something to lose again.

...I know what I want.
Norman's Family Restaurant like we were starring in an indie film, huddled on our booth, the lights dimmed, and conversations just hushes. We had a good school day.
Forgetting class, flooring through the red light because we're push overs to our own impulsion.

I hate it, "Nobody wants to hear another story about how you couldn't write right" - Circa Survive.

Here comes a novel...

Sunday, November 2, 2008

Vampire Weekend !

Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa

"Is your bed made? Is you sweater on? Do you want to, like you know I do?"

I have never spent all day in my room, under the rain, the covers, and a nice little affair with my phone.

Eating too much of the Halloween's early death rule, avoiding the water's nag, a dead end.

I have never loved the weekend more, beneath the influence of denial, delusion, and demolition.

12 hours emptied and filled, silenced and slurred, awake and asleep.

To Wish Impossible Things -The Cure


Thursday, October 30, 2008


Along the Way

"You were so distraught
Had never been in love
Guess you learned your lesson
Don't starve a poor boy"

"You're just zoning out of the world today, aren't you?"
I can't and I don't want to help it. I'm living inside of Vampire Weekend, and I like it in there. Safe and grounded, looking at nothing and no one but my shoes.

I smile too much still, laugh a little faker, curse a little less. With the rain crawling it's way through the foggy grog in my throat, I don't know how to say that I want to stay.

I'm so ashamed to find how much I'm willing to ...

Wednesday, October 29, 2008



"How am I supposed to pretend I never want to see you again?"

The sunny blue yellow afternoon was a tug at my pull, pulling since I've been dazed in class. Punk ass kids wreaking havoc across the streets and sidewalks and fucking with the pedestrian privileges. We don't care, not when it's this good.

We always talk about what we want, what we're not when we don't know what we want, who we are. Broken circles all across every patch I step and there's always paint following me. Busy like hell I could do anything else, with the time I'm spitting and crime I can't commit.

I can't keep looking over my shoulder, or at the corners of my eyes where in my peripherals I know I'll secretly wallow. Fearing I'd slip and look stupid as ever, for being so myself. It's alright I can laugh and smile to myself, guilt trips and pretentious considerations all out my window.

"First the window, then it's to the wall.
Lil' Jon, he always tells the truth." Haha.
Vampire Weekend.

I see I can love this. I can love these.
Just not any other near enough in proximity to touch.
No Thanks.

Monday, October 27, 2008

Conner, Vanessa, and Tony

The Lovesong Writer

"Lovers intwine in the heat of the night
And by dawn are apart in the shivering silences"

I'm reading Impulse yet again, and though I can't help but critique at how formal and well-worded the language is, I am grabbed by the wrist and sat uncomfortably till the conclusion.

Misery and wrecked at its best, just my type of book. I like tragedies, tragedies make sense. Maybe it has to do with my being a pessimist and occasional cynic. I should be honest, I don't have much reason to. Just the hell of it, I suppose.

Attention everyone, winter is reaching its long, gray arms for me and I'm running like hell that my lungs set on fire but even that doesn't warm me enough to feel a sort of relief that doesn't exist within the hands that I possess or maybe even you. All I know is that fall is getting hideous and I'm feeling a freeze in my heart and irritation in my brain that pokes enough to make me yell and whine and shiver and shrivel into the speck I want to be.
I had this nightmare when I awoke to this washed out morning. And I was frightened...
That's not exactly the way I like to kick start my week. But that's the way it was. Added on the the fact that I was late, I received a D- on a test, and the weather just gradually cooperated.


Right now, it's not okay to be a fool. So I can't be foolish.

Sunday, October 26, 2008

Stay Away - THT

Blue and Yellow

"Rather waste my time with you"

Strapless dresses take a handful of tape and safety pins to stay intact. I felt like Peyton.

"We are the two dullest people" but it's so easy.


"So, who's chasing who?" - The Happening.

Thursday, October 23, 2008

The "P" Word

Enough to Get Away

"I'm just an echo of the song going through my head"

I'm only good at pretending to be brilliant. I watch lives that lived and live and will be lived but I can't even reach my own channel.

The circumference of this circle is twice as far as the last and next one. And I'm only worrying about the most mundane I can think of, nothing beneath the surface. Only if, I wouldn't worry about what to wear the next day. I wouldn't bother trying to feed the hunger that embarrasses me more than I want it fed. I wouldn't change the only facial expression I've known but never even seen. I wouldn't worry about how to wear a homecoming dress for the homecoming that I don't even plan on staying for. I just wanted to get away for the night, maybe take you with me.

I'll just wash myself away where my bones and limbs can rest. Where I'll drink as much water as I want. Where I'll feed on stealing someone else's life and pretend I'm living one. Where it's always nightandday on the same hour. And the name of the narrator of this story begins with the letter...

I am a self-absorbed wreck.

Friday, October 17, 2008

I've Never Loved Walking...till now

Look After You

"There now, steady love, so few come and don't go"
Some sweet song...

My father deleted itunes, therefore I have to ONCE AGAIN start over with the same frustrating process that I'd dealt with the day before for hours. Why do I have a fucking ipod again?

Shannyn Sossamon; increasing the the population of the lesbians in the world.

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

"History's not hard, it's just a lot of work"

Very Loud

"And I wanna change, change the way we always have. And to make different plans and try not to make desire"
What's it to be seventeen.

I am seventeen.

Untamed and seventeen.

I'm glad you haven't forgotten. I'm glad you still sing songs we love. I'm glad I got to see you, the one I like.

No, our history isn't hard. We just take a lot of work... to get to where we want to be.

I think we got there today.

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

Company of Nearly Solitary

Killer Bees

"See me just sucking in the killer bees, they chew right through me"
Dread dread dread dread...
I've been humming that for some days now.

Everyday we walk the same way and try to figure out whether we'd just dreamed the fright that a demon canine gave us, caged behind the bushes. And today we did. I would've believed it a dream though.

Passing by the wrenched rabbit we'd once fed pizza. We had the same conversations, and we never say too much. And I have no idea who you are like you have no idea who I am.

But it's just so damn comfortable this way. No worries.
I don't want to wake up from my sleep tonight for tomorrow. Maybe the day after..

Monday, October 13, 2008

Would You Have the Guts to Say...


"There is something that I see in you, It might kill me I want it to be true"
I wonder now what I thought I'd had with my guts hanging out, attempting to keep my chin up enough to not seem foolish. But I lose that game.

Who was I FOOLING?

Honestly Ange...

Sunday, October 12, 2008


Greener with the Scenery

"I love you just a million times, I love you even though it isn't fair"
I can count, so I do. And what I have could never be enough to what I could never be, where I'll never be.

I didn't realized I tried so hard to just forget...

"Why do we go round again in circles? Play this game over again..."

I wanted to break, and for just a second I let myself, with the biggest fucking smile I could muster from the irritatingly heavy corners of my mouth that are just dying to be the way they want to be. But I wanted to compose myself again...

So I did, and I spat out some things I know would never make me feel better but it was better than swallowing that after taste that I never did get to wash out.

Let me tell you...

It's like this gradual eruption from the ground sprinting through my stomach, ripping out my chest and welling just at the edge of my eyes. I've been punching enough that it's still on the edge, and I'll keep it there because I've played this part way too many times that maybe just one more could completely shatter me again.

Everyone has quotes appropriate, but right now it's telling me to tell you to leave with me.

Wednesday, October 8, 2008

A Little Torn at the Sides, in the Middle, Every Where


"It never takes too long"
I let myself listen, and I feel weaker than ever.

Since when did I start listening to indie, anyway? It's all so...mine. And unlike the past lives I've set, I had no shadows of the passions that now only I know of.

It's not up to me, you know this...

Monday, October 6, 2008

Calls Me Baby


"No two people feel the same way at the same time"
Paint covered me because I had nothing else to do, and nothing right to say.

I thought about it, and even fully considered. My palms a clammy mess as some clock crawled behind me. But even that slow elapse couldn't make time be at its most sympathetic.

Just know, I hope you always knew.. The End has No End.

Sunday, October 5, 2008

Gorbel the Life Guard

Accident Prone

"Something tells me I am losing self-control"
What was that night?

Lights of green and spaces in between the darkness that I never dare to look at. I fell asleep not thinking, just like the night before.

I had another dream about you. I had another heart-breaking dream about you. It was just like reality.

You smile at me in the beginning and finally I thought I'd come to some ease. Then climax stretches itself as a cruel hand that toys with my feeding. And I'm deprived of confidence again. You smile at me in the end, walking away. It never lasts that long.

I catch myself sitting or standing alone, feeling the burns in my chest and fingertips as you marked me and left and stung every time. As I try to make sense of it, I wake up.

Always in the late morning curled under my made up warmth as the fan whistles my hands cold. Then I go over for the thousandth time why it went wrong again.

It's better when I just stop thinking.

Friday, October 3, 2008

An Infinite Playlist

And Darling

"Darling, it breaks my heart each time you..."
I could've lived that.

I'd be as intense into my passions for music than I am. It's one of those nights when I'd just love to be.

Call. Break my own heart.

Thursday, October 2, 2008

"Interventions and Lullabies"

A Mess to be Made

"I help you out the door but once you're gone I just stare out the window"
It could've been raining today.

But it just rained in my head, all over the sunny clouds. I was a child again, small on this ground and far from the sky.

I couldn't share. I don't care who you are. I can't share.

I could've slept, but I knew I wouldn't dream anything nice because I don't think that nice. All that's nice is too far off my wishful thinkings. I couldn't even sleep last night. I couldn't even realize I was losing consciousness because in my sleep I was so awake. Awake enough to realize that my room was just my room and just me. It's just me.
The dark still the dark, the time still as early as the morning shouldn't be for me. Sleeping isn't sleeping when you're just not sleeping.

And then some...

I sat in the dark for hours, exchanging a bonding moment with the wintery scene out my window, a radio that's nearly known, and the closest thing beside me to know of my passions. But it's never quite there. And I can never quite share.

I have albums that don't know you. And I know you don't know. But in all this mess, I know you'd make such great friends. It's only a matter of...another lifetime[s].

Don't get me wrong. I can prance as high my chin can go in the low that it drags to my neck that exhibits all alone. And that's when we get to somewhere no way.

Everyday. Someone else is in all this mess.has got to have some fucking initiative. It's not just me, right? I can't be the only one that lives the way I do.

I'll be a fucking welder, I said. Enough money, and I can hide from the job during the job. But I threw bottles today, I know I'd want that...

I thought what I'd really want last night...or, this very early morning. And what's better in this life than to want the things you just...can't..

I fucking can't.

Can you? ...

Wednesday, October 1, 2008

Revolving, Stationed Chairs

Seven Years

"Only pushed away off to fight you"
20 minutes kill

Lollipop Man

I couldn't decided whether to digest the strangeness or spit it out. It's not like I bothered before. He stands the awkward stance of a nearly beheaded man. Gravity pushed out upper-lower body. If it were me, I imagine I couldn't breathe. Anyway, with eyes lost in the burns of a monitor and apathetic lectures, or well, semi-thoughtful objectives, the man is steadied with careful emphases on each phrase lisps the words we'd already forgotten. Glass eyes, but not far enough to shine and share. I tried looking into them, once, but I already walked out the door, leaving my back turned, like every other day I'd sat there.
I wonder if he thinks it's rude of me.
This is what I get for being a silent, 3rd-party observer, stfu.

I have nothing else to say for now...

Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Solitary Penman

The End Has No End

"Said I can do a lot of things but I can't do that"
It sounds like my droopy new mornings that still lazes itself very slightly.

I have no obsession for anything. Like I have no obsession for you. I just have the possession though, of a less-than knowledgeable intent to disguise myself behind apprehensive remarks. And I deliberately forge myself as anybody ...that won't remote to myself so you won't have to bother comprehending. I just really appreciate it when I start going off into a second-person tangent, but I never know who the second-person is because... I don't direct in specifics anymore. You are the second-person in my head that responds when you feel like it. Curse me when you feel like it. And lecture me when there is nothing else to say. When there's really nothing to say, I turn to myself. And the nothing broadens more than it was at you.

I have countless unsent letters.

Monday, September 29, 2008

It's OK that I'm Jumbled Up

The First Single

"What's the point of going around when it's a straight line?"
I think I've been semi-happy lately...
So semi that I might just even talk about my day. Like I ever do that.

Like I tended to mention today, I lacked in good judgment. I'd decided a skirt over warmth, even knowing that I'd suffer.

We had a substitute for Spanish, and feeling a little like some efforts and stress had gone to waste, I was still relieved. I recognized her. The same teacher that the students had once referred to as the hung-over, club-going, ...prostitute. The youths are cutthroat.

I had the same, eerie vibe from her. Bird Lady. She shuffled with her hands limp in front of her. Hair of a disobedient stack, and heeled-shoes that, for some reason, bugged the hell out of me.

I spent the rest of the class thinking to myself how to put words in a tangle.

The rest of my day was a glad gloom.

Brunch; They all had haircuts. That really made my day...

When I stepped into Algebra 2, my tingles wouldn't die down. Though I was slightly palm-sweaty about my overall grade. But I startled myself silly when I came to find that I had a B-. I walked out of class grinning.

French is great. Highest grade in class.

Lunch was a blur of many nothing. I ate a muffin like a rabbit. A very sloppy rabbit.

I was even fine being in English.

AM/PM after school with Ace, Dean, and the two Viets. Purchased ice cream happiness and shared with Val and Vanessa.

I speculated the guys' choreograph their dance, but grew restless. So Dean walked me home, glad of his company again.

My show ended. The day was simple.

And I'm feelin' fine.

I guess I just felt like typing.

Saturday, September 27, 2008

Part II; 26, September


"And I never had to be alone again"
Last night was The Night. The Subtle Way.

Once I was in the car, with my hearing still a fuzzy function from the shattering volume, I could tell I was going to sleep happily.

It was.phenomenal. We were all at the front, the height of the stage just above my knee and I was scraping right to the edge. The constant force behind me was so encouraging and my energies couldn't help but be pushed to the limit. So, when the five familiar faces set themselves on stage and I heard those very familiar songs, I let go.
Hair of lengths and colors were flailing with my own. Heads throbbing with heat and we all slithered in each other's sweat. It was like fucking in replicated paces with everyone in the crowd.

I was having one thousand different thoughts as I jumped and punched and shook away myself. It took the strength of that angry, passionate, living togetherness to complete the pieces I was searching for.

The breathing was unbelievable. I was invested in searing inhales and outhales, but I felt I needed that or else the night would've been a desolated pursuit of a conspiracy running on a half-empty tank of gas. And I needed to bleed from my mouth, elbowed the top of my head and the sides of my face because the physicality let me believe it was possible and it was real that I'd reach such heights. I was thrusted and groped for and at every angle, but it compelled me to react right back.

I'd never felt so comfortable in the most awkward, infinitetesimal space in these of times. With Kim dragged right along, linked right by my side.

And we we're just a small part of the living night. Behind us was the extension of the force that smashed us between energy and motivation. But we were right where we were supposed to be.

It was once again a limitless night.

Thanks to Kim and Subtle Way
This was [Part I]

Thursday, September 25, 2008

"Satire, Irony, Burlesque"

Hold My Hand

"You'll never know I'm after you"
The sky seemed inexplicably bigger today.

I don't know why, but I couldn't stop looking up. I felt like a child, visiting some new environment, observing every little detail and wondering about every single one. It astonished me, because I've walked that same path enough times that my embedded foot prints could some how be found, but it's never looked like that to me.

I wanted...

to lay myself down on the street, tracing to find the end of what I'd imagined a wrist with endless questions. And I breathe like it was the first time I'd surfaced above the water.

Through out that whole walk home, I was reciting poems to myself. It was the most tranquil I'd been.

Not quite happy, but content enough to keep on coasting by.
My English class is a.fucking.drag. I wish I would learn something useful, substantial. Instead of having pointless preaches that never seem to make any sense. I don't think my teacher has any idea what she's talking about. So the class has no idea what they're talking about. And every brain in that room dumbs down by 10 degrees.

"I have never let my schooling interfere with my education"
-Mark Twain, existentialist.

Wednesday, September 24, 2008



"But I'm busy mending broken pieces of the life I had before"
I desire...

Tuesday, September 23, 2008


Spritz!!! Spritz!!!

"The weather's been fucking with us non-stop man-"
Probably one of the last warmest days, and I wore sweats. The past days that I've been wearing a skirt, it'd been freezing.

Neither luck nor mother nature seem to be on my good side. How unfortunate.

I am mathematically incompetent, hands down. I'd sat in my Algebra 2 class for nearly 14 days, and every day I'm above with the clouds. And even when I've got a section down, it only takes a matter of two or three numbers, seconds, phrases to confuse me back to knowing nothing. It is frustrating.
Every day, I try to get to a conclusion whether to even stay in there or just leave. I could always go back to Geometry, but who knows how I'd do there. I could fail just as miserably. Currently, I am living off of Tyler. She's the foundation of my life line, always behind me, literally. But that's really not what I want...

I want to know. I want to know how to know.
Hmm. Kim mini-tutored me today. She's always taught me well, and with our little session, hopefully I'd pass my test.
Enough school talk. It makes me think of college. *shudder
Back to timing. Ace had brought up the ridiculous, bad luck I have with time. We we're porch-monkeying one afternoon after school, awaiting the homecoming of my mother and brother. I knew where the key was, but I'm a sloth. So we sat, her unknowing we'd had a way in. And I began to tell her the story of when I'd been locked out with my friend and siblings. I told her my attempts of breaking the bathroom door, and my father thinking the next day that someone had tried to rob our house. I told her our ingenius stick-gum contraption with the garage door, and my brother crawling through the doggy door. She said I had bad timing.

I became restless, and decided to get off my ass and get the keys from our...very secret hiding place. Right when I got to the door to unlock, I heard the garage door open. My mother and brother were home.

She said I had bad timing, yet again.

Hm, I just felt like a rant, I suppose.

Sunday, September 21, 2008

Avoiding Work

Miracle Sun

"We don't wanna be left alone, no"
I keep thinking about everybody. Someone new every few moments, always someone unexpected. I don't know who I fell asleep to last night. But it wasn't who I usually fell asleep to. This is something.

I'm probably reaching some new phase. These weekends for myself always changes a few millimeters, every now and then. But they seem the longest, giving me enough and more time to think through absentmindedly. I guess I have homework to do.

Samuel Langhorne Clemens, also known as the American humorist and writer, Mark Twain.

How interesting, Twain is said to be the victim of "love at first sight". With the modernized way of living we seem to be in, it's hard to believe in love at first sights. But who am I to judge whether it was that easy then? There's just so much corruption of everything now.

I'm debating whether or not it's as blissful as it sounds. The perfect example, Romeo and Juliet. I remember reading the story my Freshman year and being so aggravated and annoyed. How can two people be so stupid and selfish? Every action, every decision, they just wreaked havoc all through Verona. I thought it was a sap story, and I never understood the impacts it made. Maybe this is just me being bitter, but what a selfish story! Romeo was in love with Rosaline before meeting Juliet, supposedly. How can so many things change with just one glance? And in the end, suicide was the last of the options.
Sometimes I understand the rashness and irresponsibility. This is the thing we call romance, right? The concept MCR wrote about and The Cure, and I loved them. When loving someone so much... it just concludes you to insanity. And insanity can be portrayed in so many ways. In these old-fashioned cases, bloodshed is part of it. Sometimes, it's marriage. Hence Bella and Edward.

It's one of those times when I realize just how bitter I've gotten. Even the best of the romantics pisses me off. Aha, that makes me laugh a nervous laugh in my head. And it just gets me sad...

Whatever, so I lack some romance now. That used to be all I was about. But now, I don't even look for it. I don't ask for it. The past gets you scared, I guess. When everything leaves, how can you have enough energy to go through it again?

I never was great at admitting it. I just end up asking myself the same thing.

So, what now?

Saturday, September 20, 2008

Crawling Back

Burn Your Life Down

"Pulling pieces of it out is such a waste of time"
I just want to lay myself down, and stay in that position for uncountable hours. Too bad there's always something.

I'm too near the wall, or I just slide off, or it's too damn cold, or I can't see my floors anymore. Sometimes there's just nothing to play, nobody to play with. So I avoided my room all day.

I'm sorry I didn't attend the party, after mentioning I would. How's a bouquet of balloons sound? Maybe some other time. I finally found a weekend for myself since September began, yenno. I just wanted to test it out. The outcome is maybe why I'm so sorry.

Always snoozing. And I'm thinking about the next winter to come. I can't find myself somewhere warm though. And not just founded by the choice of my wardrobe. Just a coat would be nice.

This is pointless.

Thursday, September 18, 2008

Looking At You


"Overproduce me.. hoping for a dramatic change"
What are you suppose to say?

The phone rings some considerably late hour for my stingy eyes. I adjust my voice and language, and listen in.
I couldn't see this time.

The struggles in your structure hadn't sunk in to me till I was late, as always. Awkwardly standing face to face, glancing away and back. Away and back again.

All I did was look and concern.

When he'd bent his head down and broke away to what I'd thought he refused to reveal, I followed him right down.

What are you suppose to say when you're as helpless and more, as him?

I sat in the pained position I recognized, and cooed at the cement, trickling the helplessness.

I remembered him saying, "I shouldn't be worrying about this right now..."
I read the creases on his face, the breaking of his voice. He asked me over and over, and I knew he never meant to ask me.

We sat what seemed like the longest of minutes, swallowing what wasn't in the days prior to today. The silence just drags, and I knew he didn't expect anyone to say anything.

Because what are you suppose to say?

I watched him away, dreading it now like he does. I could only imagine what could be going through him.

Roads shook the aggravation of burning rubber, my heart thumping up a beat I hadn't expected. I don't know why I imagined his face then. He hadn't expected it either.

Maybe you're not suppose to say anything.

So I didn't.

Wednesday, September 17, 2008


All Along

"But you did and I wish you well"
I sleep eat talk walk see lie drink write and breathe.

What else.

Anyone else that has anything less to say?

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

A Too Gray, Too Bland Now


"What happens when we reach for each other?"
Mmm, autumn feel. It's silly because every time I remember how I'd felt when the breezes gave me especially stoned goosebumps, with the sun an orangey-yellow setting beside me and I'm walking home with the most comfort I could find, I was happily sad. Sadly happy, what ever would work.

I remember myself smiling a physical gesture, but the raw aching in my chest was hard to neglect. No matter how elated the moment was, and how my face stretched in ways I couldn't feel, my organs were still wrenching.

I don't know why I can instinctively flash myself back to those moments. It was cold, I was cold, and no one wanted to be touched.

Green's voice sounded just of that. I just can't remember what he always told me...

Monday, September 15, 2008

I Won't Miss it this Time; I Have an Alarm


"I just stopped listening to your story"
I guess I got over it in half a second or two. That's all I needed this time. It's easier. Or it's whatever.

I like nothing more about school than my French class.

Cold mornings, after noon heat. It's pissing me off.

I already miss summer. Or I just miss Leo in my every days.

I fed Beh flan, Jon ate cheese dogs.

My after school activities.

I have nothing meaningful, or...un-meaningful to say.

Sunday, September 14, 2008

Hiding Musical Violence

If Ever You're In My Arms Again

"This time will never end"
A splint and some bandage, better than ever.

I just had one of those nights. Animated and alive and I feel good. The ones you wish wouldn't have to end, even if you know that's not possible.

I think this aches a little

Friday, September 12, 2008

Kindly Acquainted

Stop the Fucking Car

"Cut me gently, cut me out"
The morning is too far to remember, too cold to like, too tiring to feel nice. I'm ready to shut off.

I don't really want to talk. I don't really want to see faces. I don't really want anything real.
I keep my arms and legs folded in molds that seem to keep me at peace around human contact. So that seems to be working out for me.

Why was I so over the top when I got home? I feel fine raising my voice of the second, but never the third second. I slugged the rest of the way and hoped I didn't have to uncurl.

The fourth minute passed and I gladly missed the first. And if you want, I'll miss tomorrow's. I've missed every day anyway.

Wait for my hands to thaw, and they warm and soften. I would've never guessed me to be something.

Not really.

Thursday, September 11, 2008

Seven Seven Seven

Here Comes A Regular

Just seven days. I can't believe it.

I'm burnt out already?

7 out of...some 100+ days.


Seven seven seven seven seven seven seven


7 Days Later

Down and Out

"I don't ever want to see you again"
I wrote about paper.
I wrote about its planes and lines and its future scrawls, and how plotless it feels to do this. It always feels plotless doing this.

Nothing comes to mind in the morning except for the next name I decide to be. Anyone but myself.

I don't want to sleep and dream dreamless blurs I never remember. I don't want to wake up and face the next nothingness of the hours again. And again and again. And there is never anything. Never A N Y T H I N G.

I need a fucking reason.

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

Anesthetic Never Sets In

Automatic Stop

"I said wait, I'm gonna give it a break"
I pretended to whistle today. I wonder who heard it.

I always hated sitting here, fiddling with some linty rubber bands or feeling up the keys. I feel quieter than I should ever be. I feel warmer than I should really be. I just feel sick.
I want to find a reason to tell someone something.

But there's nothing to tell anyone.

Just a few secrets that I know shouldn't be told. And I'm just not sincere enough to put myself in heat and clammy fingers.

I don't feel anything.

Tuesday, September 9, 2008

Et Toi?

Dear Child [I've Been Dying to Reach You]

"In this short time we've been spreading in"
My feet indicates I've been bathing in the sun enough. But when the hell did it get so cold again? So soon...


No matter how fed a day's planner seem to report, the little details and the big picture just seem to fade in a manner useless of erasers.

A hallway walk is enough hazard that if I turn a corner the sharp point would writhe my intestines inside out, all the way long the pressure on my heals. I push against heavier than necessary, as if emphasizing the very steps I take to make sure that someone would look from a corner and point me sharply either of nonchalance or a second thought. But as I make my second thoughts, the pressure just seem to evacuate as if surrendering the perfect execution of someone that someone could never be. And I drag on from there, drilling through the pavements of courtesy and vulgarity.

I found a path home one day, trying to escape the pretentious chortles of the past humor. Face muscles are only as strong as you push that supposed happiness you should have.

But I only find that I didn't want to come home just yet.

I didn't know where I could even possibly be...

Monday, September 8, 2008

No One Ever Sits Down Anymore

The Only One [Mix 13]

"Yeah it gets better everyday, I say"
That's a lie.

It's all too mundane, too ordinary. Like a gray film with the predictable plot and resolution.

Every day I lose color. Every day growing more anemic and burnt and frail, and you know it's just about time to fall apart.

Every day there comes more births and birthdays and I still bother to play with heat just so I can play with more heat in another world. And every day I gain more shameful mouthfuls.

The songs of one morning will be the songs of the next morning. While the songs of night sound utterly unrecognizable from what played the night before.


You are nothing extraordinary.

I am nothing extraordinary.

I am nothing.

"You're nothing."

"I'm nothing ?"

April fell asleep.

Thursday, September 4, 2008

It's so damn easy to miss you.

Peek & Seek

Wait Until I'm Gone

"You always were so good to me"
I caught myself in the middle of a lecture, dropping me down to my skull that I am trying to make sense of the first, the next, and the last thing I see. The first thing I hear. The next thing I feel. And the last thing I think.

I add in vowels, scrambling and re-scrambling and puzzling back together. Consonants just don't mean a thing with out a purpose, right...?
It's silly, because I cannot even find an atom of a sense in me. But I continually strain myself to dig for answers that I could never find. Because I won't let it find me.

I won't let anything find me.

At least not anymore.

I've been under the pillow, under the covers, under the mattress for months, and disregarding the auto-pilot, I can't get myself to get up off of everything.
Sometimes I open a hole through the sheets for myself.
And I close back in, hermit-krabbing through something I'm running from. I just don't know what yet.

I'm not exhausted and I hardly sweat it out. The person in front of me waves me a flail, only to find glassy eyes and a flagrant yawn that seem to repel and forget whatever the next thing you'll say.

So how is it that I try to make sense of it all? Because I know I can't.
And it's too irresistible to leave alone my [can't]s.

It's too irresistible to care as much as I used to, but no one could ever know that.

I'm interpersonally intrapersonal.

Wednesday, September 3, 2008

Stupid; The New 'Hella'

What ever happened?

"Oh that's an ending that I can't write"
What a warm day, I keep telling people.

BODY HEAT ! BODY HEAT ! I keep yelling to someone.

They keep touching my hair, and I just want to give a good strike to limp up those arms.

Temper, I keep telling myself.

You can't teach me English, I just want a notebook. Trust me with the rest.

Bonjour la classe, je m'appelle Ange. I have realized that I've always imagined myself to travel, and I now have the biggest desire to. I want to. I have to. I will.

I can't tell you how I couldn't sleep last night. I can't tell you anything that would oblige you to tell me something in return.

I have Tyler's rice paddle, and I cut some floral skirt.
I stole Henry's locker, and Ace left me to take the bus myself.

I stood next to some big black guy at the bus stop, more fidgety than ever.

I am a fucking racist.

ARCHIVE, FUCKERS (for Ace-like purposes)