12 December 2008

hmm

I was just watching a documentary. it had martin Luther king's protests, footage of fire hoses, attack dogs, and attack men, all displayed, and I thought, no. This couldn't have been so recently. This simply couldn't have been. I want my perceptions to be humbly noted, for it is due to mlk that I have them, all of them. Would i be racist if not for his dramatic difference?

31 July 2008

blah

Oh, look how the ribbons
Paint o'er my mug
Look where the dust mites
Rest o'er the rug
And life's rather sunless
For such craggy perks
If that won't improve I guess
That's how it works

But only for this stretch!
Improvements are near--
Soon as I detach
From wanting to steer
My vehicle safely
on well-known terrain
A snap in what holds me
could sever its strain.

18 July 2008

FUCK

I think we humans aren't ready to do nothing.
It really isn't all that natural to confine onself to a bare-walled cubic mental stretch.  
I am homesick for California berry berry much.  
Life over there is a party compared to this.  The highlight of my damn MONTH was going bowling!  

I guess I'm just a little over, or tired of (not SICK of, mind you, let's not get melodramatic)  the continual visuals of the Searle house interior.  Yesterday I ate breakfast outside, and had an interesting enough book with me that I stayed out there for a couple of hours and felt just fine.

Being inside will fuck you over.


I'm relying on the chance that next year will be super-active for me.

And I noticed that when we had fruit and home-cooked meals, and when I was sleeping from sundown to sun-up, I felt very clear.  Raquel and Nigel and I had very traditional meals, and planning/cooking them gave me somewhere to gravitate there.

You see how much time has passed?  I can't even keep track of what week was which..A whole month tomorrow.  Feels like two months.  That makes sense, really, because a month is a FUCKING LONG TIME!

Some sort of odd depression has seeped into me.
a very angry and murky communication with my stagnant self's manic egoic babblings.  That inner monologue has been incessant.  The chatter comes from some random nerve firing yet speaks in words...a half-formed, reflexive thought meant to guide my sleeping body towards somewhere safe.  Namely, it keeps me out of danger by allowing me to do NOTHING and still be occupied/sickeningly entertained by its escapism.

"Dazzle" by Siouxsie in the Banshees gets me almost in tears from the beginning.

sdff

03 July 2008

Momental Glee

That inner smile, the throat rising, and that quivering chest, an inward-clenching powerful "Woo-hoo!"

That is what happens when I am actually excited.

18 April 2008

I've never connected the image with me.


There's a whole seperate person for the outside me, and her name is Margaux.

FORGET ABOUT ME

There's nothing like a good time in the bath to cool your spirits. I find that waking to the sounds of beautiful things is a remedy fit for kings. I never looked at a bird the same way until after the day when my feelings went to waste. You know I'm sitting here now, eating cereal, but not a drop to drink? Seriously, there's nothing that can cool me but a big bowl of cereal.
The sleeping giant is in her den.  I have to worry about spelling mistakes, because it's what I'm used to but regardless, I feel unuseful at these times. These sentences make no sense. Enewau, here I am typ8ing a way when amillion things are goin gong on elsewhere that I should be worrying about. Should, shoulds, shoulds. Just let yourself go. I need more of that, Excercise, freedom, prosperity withing endorphins. A chance to feel and noone else to hinder me. Songs talk about being tormented, hey they don't know toromented!
Do here I am and things are going splendidly, who can say that life is anything bu tthis? Worries worries and they fill my head like a sack of meal, killing every intention of good and right, illing my inner security like a landfill in a goldmine. Today we went and saw a comedy show, amazing amazing. I was so astounded by the feats of conversationalism deplayied by such brave souls, up there in their bravado, swinging away in their own way..

And yes, the years have done nothing to remedy angst, or have they? If growth can only be diaplayed in patterns (new patterns, that is) then what new patterns have I shown? Growth much be taught, implemented, shown to the hightest degree. One must teach oneself what it's like to be free. And until then, nothing else matters. But why do I sit with these material objects, fretting and fraying upon my worried beads, Maria Lola, stroking my lips and hoping for fire? Nothing will chage. Forget the parties. Forget the late nights. Find nature. Find yourself within the idea of a retreat, what you've htoght to be the solution for some time.

I've ofrgotten about importance for some time no,w, and vovcablylary dails me ath this moment  in time but doesn't everything?
I will find a place to be free, and that's what few opeple realize. yo don't have to settle for what you have, in fact, settle for what you've got but ask for more. Be rutheless in realizations, and take what's yours, which is everything. You'll see what's in you faster than you can say "clink!" and tada, a new nobody, an evil somebody, a fresh everybody. You'll feel what it is to feel. Oh DAMN how I wan t yoga, how I want the pressure to ground me, to save me. How I want a mother's love, something that a mother might give and though I thank her for all her troubles I still find little in her sacrifices. THere is little to secede and wherever I find myself, there is that absence of preparedness that sill stain me until the end of time. Yet that nagging, that constant nagging, of "who will be worse?" My mother doesn't matter compared to other mothers.


Screw it, is all I can say, find the now, forget whoever takes your hand and just drop theirs, take a new pather unto the grave if anything, and make way for what is to come with a gimp and "ho!"
With zest, and make a point to be that special person, to give that love unto yourself with extra zest and to feel it wholley, to fee li it coprelely. because never again will yo ufeel what you feel, plain logic. Meditate. Don't get riled up in what I have, the emotions that stir. meditate and sleep, and don't worry about the rest. It makes me weep jus tto o think about. All the pressur eoto be a teenager, to be a hardcore badass poet on the move, fucking every girl she sees yadda yadda yadda. Forget that shit. You're old. You're an old soul. It' s just in the moment, you've got to make up for that in words and pretend you know what the fuck anyone's talking about, which means yes, yes, I'll go to the bank with you, I'll go on the road with you.. I want to watch "Almost Famous". It's getting late. I love Eva. She seems to be a friend, the only island in a complete sea of insanity tha tis the wandeirngs of the go.

\
GO AWAY, SCHOOL!
LEAVE ME ALONE!