i’m plagued by you in my sleep–
tossing and turning through dreams
of simple conversations,
but the panic is more than i can handle
so i wake, relieved
to realize i never actually see you,
and all of this bad news
may be only be a reality
my subconscious faked.
I overslept for my doctors appointment today. Should have set two alarms. But whatever. I just called and rescheduled and since student health is first-come-first-serve anyway i don’t cramp their schedule at all.
Last night I painted. It turned out alright but I sort of hate the color composition. I mean, i guess it’s about my femaleness so the fractured f in red makes a lot of sense even if it does look like a fancy swastika. mrh. i don’t know. im undecided about it, but generally i’m undecided about my art until a few days later. maybe i’ll paint something else tonight? hard to say. i still have that 8×10 that i need to undo the damage on. it could be worth the acryllic paint to erase it and do something new. abstract self portraits in reds and browns. oh yes.
i’m going to salina this weekend. yipyip.
Until one day, instead of simply not seeing you, I saw you not there.
Aries (Mar 21 – Apr 19) You may be feeling battle weary today as you tire of your old familiar games. Your current temperament might prevent you from laying low as you once again join the front lines in social engagement. Even if you have obligations now, remember that you are being presented with an opportunity to begin an important healing process. Don’t distract yourself from the real work at hand.
Taurus (Apr 20 – May 20) Unexpressed emotions can make you feel more vulnerable than usual, but you can’t see a way through the situation. You want to share your perspective, but you aren’t sure that what you say will help your case. Any isolation you are experiencing may be of your own creation. Give yourself permission to float without a solution for now. You don’t have to fix everything today.
Goodbye. And if you come to a day where you would like to fix things, let me know.
Oh gee golly I’m bad at posting here, it seems. Probably because I’ve been bad at posting anywhere the past week or so. I really hate it when school starts frown because I have to do all of this homework and crap. In reality, I need school to fill my time with something other than sporadic drug use and random plans with friends.
Steve left for France yesterday. I think I was probably his last call before he left the country because I called him right before he started to turn his phone off. Fun! It was nice to talk to him and say goodbye and all that. I have these really bizarre posts about him that maybe deserve a little explanation: He’s an exboyfriend. Things ended terribly and i always wanted our friendship back but we couldn’t really be on speaking terms for a really long time. Things ended in July of 2005 and we sort of attempted to rekindle things in November of 2005 but given that I was unsuccessful in my attempt to leave my boyfriend, it didn’t work out. Then from like December-June I was just half-sorta-hung-up-on-him. In June, I had a conversation with our mutual friend about how we really couldn’t date again cos it would be a silly idea. and then in August we had a long, drunken conversation at a mutual friends’ party. In December of this year, he started reappearing online and we had good conversations that weren’t awkward. He asked to hang out sometime and between the time that we actually did hang out, he broke up with the girl he’d been seeing since January. I guess that is insignificant except that I think it cuts down on the awkwardness, at least for me. So we started hanging out. But he left for France a few weeks after we started which is really too bad. Anyway. That’s the story.
Life is strange. and this debate tournament is strange. I’m in St. Louis for the weekend. and it’s just… i guess.. Interesting, to say the least. I mean, I hate St. Louis as it is… but further there’s just so much that is/has happened at this debate tournament. It’s strange. I’m having a really good time at the tournament though. And I think it wasn’t the worst tournament for me ever. That’s a pretty charged statement, I would say. I just mean that we got out in Parli and that was nice. We haven’t done that as a team yet. Though it’s also like… it’s Webster. So what the fuck does breaking mean.
I broke out in hives last night. For the 5th time in two weeks. Ugggh. I think my body just doesn’t know what to do for stress now that I’m on all my anti-crazy pills. Suckage. Though I’m also about 100 percent sure that it has to be stress related and not anything else because I was crazy stressed out last night. What the hell. So I went to sleep at about 4 and had to wake up just before 8 to pack and get out of the hotel so that rounds could start at 8:30 and i could be there for them. Dammit.
Read More
i crawl through shelves
searching each book
for a collection of words
which maybe predicts us
but finding only tales of other lovers,
i begin to write our story myself
–paragraphy by paragraph
turning pages into chapters
until i realize i have yet to know yrhalf
so i return to my quest,
tracing a globe with relaxed fingers
i explore my wanderlust
with the expectation of finding
something like home
the farther i stretch my hand,
the more places i travel:
kansas, missouri, alberta, africa
and i cannot always name the language,
but i know i would lose myself in it
forgetting mastery and fluency
,and relaxing in the hollow noises
which protect vowel sound from vowel sound
escaping in a foreign tongue
and finding myself not alone
Sunday afternoon I went to the mall with my brother to buy some things that we needed. He’d been wanting a winter coat since the day after Christmas, but he didn’t get one until yesterday because he’s so lazy. We went out to the mall and returned some things to old navy (mom’s christmas presents from me to be exact) and then bought the jacket (18 dollars! yay!) and got a gift for mom’s friend Paula who turns 50 in a few weeks. The gift was lingerie and so it made Devon all kinds of awkward to have to check out with me. I was awkward too but I mostly just found it hilarious. After the mall we had to drive around and figure out the least efficient way to go home. That was annoying, but it was really nice to get to talk to my brother about life.
After that, I went to mass with Joe and had an alright time. I still feel pretty empty as far as faith goes. I’m glad I’m making myself go back to mass though. I know that it’s important even when my faith is just academic that I go to mass so that the feeling has a chance to come back. I don’t know. It’s frustrating. and It was sort of frustrating because Joe kept making jokes about how long it had been since I was last in mass during the whole thing. wtf. seriously. i prayed that he’d be more sensitive. that didn’t work. they i just got frustrated and snappy. He finally got better about half-way through mass. and to be fair, you know… i’d been kinda bad.
We did dinner at the apartment then. I made scampi and had some beers. It was a nice dinner for the most part. And my bully wheat served beer style is always the best.
I’m dreading Webster. Seriously.
I do not want to go.
wishing ever harder that i could accomplish the complex art of painting,
i imagine my body stretched out cold and blue over a canvas
the brush from yr fingertips painting me as i am: fragmented.
a haphazard collection of appendages all thrown together
connected by a skin so ill-fitted it took many years of tears and sutures just to heal
as with all feelings this month,
i experience the snow from behind a window
leaving the cold touch of winter to other poets
willing to dwell on the icy embrace
and when warmed by the fires of love
i choose the same distance
exchanging soft hands for
the avoidance of passion and risk
of a love which transcends the tangible,
we dance loosely around our tendency
to reject regrets and look only toward the future
while the past heals itself in jagged scars
around our necks and stomachs
so many little bites that never meant a thing,
but, darling, the more you fade into one collective memory
the more the trace of yr fingertips remains distinct
i want to know love that leaves my back aching from the arching.
my fingernails rounded from the subtle filing against yr flesh
and my throat made to speak only in echoes
as my brain scrambles for the poetric recapturing of this slippery silence,
i will let you take every word of yr poem from my lips
in several long kisses, one at a time, one at a time
you’ll erase each stanza i’ve found to complete our moment
and rewrite it in the pulsing of our hearts
beating quickly as though to escape our chests
in order to tangle with each other
you and i will accomplish the tangle
you and i will embrace the metaphor
and hours later write the words
of the time we found love inside of ourselves
just inside the bones beneath the pulsepoint on our wrists
and i’ll lose my will to protect myself within the slow reaching
of your hand to pull me closer onto you by the back of my thigh.
