Spirit Animals

Revisionist historians pulling the strings, the melody struck a chord. Finding happiness in the sandbox along the temporal fold. This is the only city I have been able to walk at night with a beer without meeting a soul. A phone, an IPA, an empty playground... no not an indie movie preview starring a Culkin. My evening was a nice end to several days worth of ruminating. The reading, the writing, the reformation.

Hopefully the salient points will remain like bones at a crime scene or shells at the beach. You inspired me a few nights ago. Just basic stuff about a chance meeting improving quality of life and realizing being an adult means acting with knowledge available. Above all, trying not to hold your teenage ideals against yourself. Realizing that dusting yourself off is more admirable than flogging yourself into crippling impotency. I love you. One day I may articulate that further.

I will judge myself on the context of my characters. I am writing something of interest, but then I have to throw in a line like "fucking you with a sentimentality dildo".

I probably should have gotten a tumblr a while ago. But I like this. It's like notebook I can actually read later.

The emperor was found dead of (over)exposure. Impossible glamour of ecstatic (enlightened) extinction, future antiques in action. Nothing will weep for you but your wounds. as the shadows fill the room, i realize i have offered up another day to nothing. the surreal quiet was the only company present. the sentiment is mine, the sentiment is fleeting; but the words are universal and familiar. the authors who went the way of the warrior with their words, leaving their contempt face down a puddle of ink.

Memoirists who think their lines and bon mots are worth more than the forest it was printed on. You say growth I say cancer. An insubstantial blurb placed in between ads for used cars and coupons, that's where we all end up. You know that we all need those things, or someone does. The obituary equalizes a lifetime of inequity. Put the salvation on your tongue and wait for oblivion. It doesnt mean anything if the world doesnt end. The blood is just another stain if it doesnt transfigure you out. But oblivion is playing cards with Godot. your experience leaves you empty. bullet trains, cherry blossoms, lonely adjectives rotting flowers. Of all the hardrives in all the landfills of the world. The streets filled with Dickensian orphans who are sustained by their stories. They were named after saints, but that's where the similarities end.

Wireless Connection

I've already forgotten what seemed so important. I suppose the environment plays a role. Every year has added a decade. Peerless works both ways. I suppose I will find the time to eulogize my adolescent fixations. They will be hobbies. I am no different than every other person who does much for little and keeps the passion close. Like keeping the warmth in a blanket when it's snowing. The warmth leaves, the passion follows. I know this, but I cannot follow it. Like some morality tale punishment, I move in slow motion towards something I want but cannot accept. It's not pointless; it's Pointillism, I am just too short sided to see it. Maybe one day I can take all the advice from the ghosts of voicemails past and do it a fucking solid. This whole noseless visage is wearing thin. People stop caring about missing the point and the silence picks up the slack.

(Laundry) List

I wonder if they will remember me spoiling them. Indulging their little faces with the dim echo of rules and regulations in the back of my mind. The library, our picnics, the those late night slumber parties during the summer of Meatballs, later called feetballs. Tickle tickle feet eating funny faces, funny phases of changing names and silly voices. The fear of being forgotten not enough to stop from living unrehearsed. If I die young(ish) like I hope, I want them to remember all the rules I helped them break and the muffins they helped me bake.

The laundry. For some reason I really enjoy the laundry. How through the years of roommates, I have seen all kinds of clothes. It's a strange way to be a part of someone's life.

I Know Why the Wires Buzz (The Screens Glow)

Nature Shows Us How

It's in the air and in the wires. It's in the blood and starting fires. Falling on old patterns like romantics in love. Or on swords. Sounds of natural war time all lights and glass rattling. The light in the darkness and the shadows evaporating like the newly formed puddles. The build up of heat and release made manifest on the window pane.

"Something to Talk About" is more than an eponymous song from Bonnie Raitt. It sums up the very nature of a water cooler on fire, the primitive internet utility of mass human communication with a purpose. If one's thoughts are diametrically inclined: we are a culture of costumes and quotes, uniforms and theme songs. We are a nation united by hype and disillusioned by inevitable conclusions. We seek the middle and we seek it hard.

The buzz begins with the insiders. We predict, we permutate, we anticipate. And then we fall. We fall into sweeps, scandals and the sweet rush of adjective assembly that tells us what we like. We respond. And if the vibrations are just right, we connect. That ever-elusive combination of mawkishness and insight traversing battlefields of pop culture fallout, current music, and self-awareness. The pre-emptive fears of cancellation, settling and early syndication.

The slow rise pop, like the titular pronunciation favored in the Mid-West, bubbles and inevitably falls flat. But those first fresh sips fill us with a collective joy of camaraderie of culture, ease of understanding.

It's Been _______ Years since my last

I don't go to Church. I suppose I should add, anymore, to indicate there was a time when I did. And as such, I have been to a confessional and find the internet to be an appropriate substitute. A nice jumping off point for the things we hardly admit to ourselves, much less the anonymous void. Why some people make you want them in your lives and others leave you questioning all the decisions you have failed to make.

The kids make me want to weigh every word, and try to prevent hurting their feelings by anger or carelessness. They are sweet and funny and help balance the scales of inadequacy I feel like hanging myself from. I wish I didnt need them to remind me. I wish I could be better without scores of books and songs and films and tv shows that ended prematurely.

Reset.

Read a book to stay awake (with broken glasses)

Whether it be a needle or a trigger, enjoy your 45. I have a hard time writing. Not actually writing, but focusing on a project. I doubt very highly it is ADD or some other shit written on a file in a school in a state I no longer reside in. I have a hard time sleeping. I have a hard time being an adult. Things havent changed much, I feel like I am standing still as the world spins around me. Names, faces, phone numbers orbiting around me (there's a joke to me made). I had a line earlier about the brutality of something, probably humanity and a phantom lasting the length of a song, a cigarette, an errand. This fog of bi-location, which may not be limited to St. Ignatius is making it hard to see clearly.

I think of you often. I have things I meant to give to you, or you left with me, or that reminds me of you. I feel like I am standing between a tectonic plates and being pulled slowly in opposite directions. I dont know what to do and I am avoiding panic by avoiding solutions. It isnt working (there's a joke there). Writing the jokes for an empty stage.

I have read 12 books in three weeks. I go to the library quite frequently. I have a Pell grant and I havent applied to schools. I am finally actually broke. I think I still have a ways to go until I hit rock bottom. My sister was telling me some things my mom said about my dad and they sounded a lot like me. Not surprisingly, I didnt take it well. Most people I know are not doing well right now. It's hard sitting it out as it were.

I dont know why I find phone sex so funny. Or dating in general. I have been on more dates in VA than probably my whole life. The more I meet people, the more I want to be alone. I am trying to do something with my attitude, but this heat is not helping me be productive.

That's enough.