12:07 a.m.

reperepereperepetition
and oh no, I won't forget about you. I still have the photographs you took of me and the memory of your voice. your hand down my pants and my mouth going where ever you would let it.
oh no, I can't forget the grief you caused me and how I loved you. how I wanted you in every possible way. oh and how you could mock me without saying a word, how I was infantile in your presence.
and who could forget the day we met? I won't forget your stories, I won't forget your car. I remember how you looked at me and how broken you were; how perfect your beauty.
snow, melting through my shoes. I remember driving home. I remember stopping mid state and changing my socks. I remember our long silence. I remember your poor reconciliation.
I hated your threats. and I hated you for making them.
but oh, I still remember you.

Friday, February 27, 2004

12:00 a.m.

oh no
sleep calls and I refuse to answer. my bed aches for my body to rub against it, to lay sandwiched between my mattress and comforters but I cannot do that yet. meaning lost between the moments. dreams will come tonight and I still can't get rid of the spiderwebs clinging from last night.
too much between the lines. too many moments passed from day to night dreams. darkness makes up for all the things not said in daytime. I don't want to dream anymore. it hurts too much.

Sunday, February 22, 2004

11:14 p.m.

random thinking of a random thinker
and you wonder when things will ever go back to the way they used to be. you know the answer, but despise its permanence. "never" is such a solid word. so impossible.
what else can be said? change is forever; even when it's gone the memory remains.
memory itself is change, change in memory.
everything beautiful is tainted with sadness for me. every sad thing becomes beautiful and the irony never escapes me.
I've been watching you become beautiful for quite some time now.

Wednesday, February 18, 2004

02:21 p.m.

take it or leave it.
I want it so badly but I can't say what. this need to be filled, a desire of something else. everytime my name is said, I have to be reminded it's me. the joy of the syllables surprises me every time.
awake, I felt a dream take me. lapping the shores of my body like waves in an ocean. hands on me that were not there, and I left it all. I stopped it all.
another memory like so many others. claim the difference, see the dissidence. want one and get another. this is something old disguised as something new. love it regardless.
there may never be another chance.

Wednesday, February 18, 2004

12:01 a.m.

and nothing ever was the same.
"this is our theme song," and I can't listen to it without feeling something. four years later and it still leaves marks inside me, still reminds me of something I touched the surface of but could never actually hold.
"this is our theme song," but it never was. it was something he gave to someone else after me, and maybe someone before me. maybe he was drunk when he told me. maybe he was always drunk, maybe I didn't care because I wanted a way out of my life.
"this is our theme song," but instead it's our antithesis. take every beautiful thing that was said in it, take every beautiful image, and turn it on its back. let the legs wriggle, let the beauty die, and you will have our song.
this was never our theme song.
"sweet avenue," by jets to brazil. a band that can only get better.

Tasting you and rain
I walk down to the train
Trying not to look down
This day could one day be an anniversary
Everything is light and sound
Facing forwards, going slowly
wait for you to show me
Where this train wants to go
Living by the hour, I stop for every flower
Everything is soft and slow
Now all these tastes improve through the view that comes with you
Like they handed me my life
For the first time it felt right
Thank you for making me see there's a life in me
It was dying to get out
Holding you we make two spoons beneath an April moon
Everything is soft and sweet
This cigarette it could seduce
A nation with its smoke
Crawling down my tired throat
Scratches part of me that's purring
Softly stirring
I'm a captain of industry, smoking famously
Feet up on the windowsill
Looking at all these trees I feel affinity with
Everything so soft and still
Budding at my fingertips
Touching you I start to bloom
Alive with trains and passing ships
Soft and sweet along your lips now
I go "oh wow"
Thank you for taking me from my monastery
I was dying to get out
With tears of gratitude
I like my latitude
Cross town train to you
Now all these tastes improve
Through the view that comes with you
Like they handed me my life
for the first time it felt worth it
Like I deserved it

Saturday, February 14, 2004

10:36 p.m.

not time yet.
spring came early this week, and picked my heart up from where winter had tossed it. it shook my libido and said, "hey! hey you! are you listening?"
then the sun shone and the birds sang and a piece of me, that I haven't felt in months, stirred. it said, "don't tempt me."
but I've never tried, I never meant it. these things come to me of their own volition. how do you stop the spring? how do you keep your heart from beating?
someone cure me of this.

Wednesday, February 11, 2004

12:05 a.m.

new words from an old source
"sometimes it's just not the right time" and I don't want to go but I can't stay.
everything always seemed so sad and beautiful when I talked to him. everything was tragic and nostalgic and achingly unexplainable. love mixed with blood; stark nudity and death.
and now it's been brought down to words I can understand but don't want to. our idols left as human beings, the gods we worshipped revealed to be the worshippers. who knows, who can say. let's do something real. let's break out of everything.
desire's overrated and rules over everything. love is intangible yet inextricable from every movement. moments immersed, dreams just smothered with it.
all these words I still can't speak. all these hopes I can't express. the night grows longer and my eyes close heavier and each breath brings labored thoughts I can't even begin to write. maybe it's just not the right time.
but what if it never is?
at least I'm trying.

Wednesday, February 11, 2004

09:56 a.m.

let's play the memory game
everytime there's a new one, here we go!
there was one for three years that is a whisper now. one for two months that I'll never ever forget. a permanent scar remains etched inside me thanks to him. he's the one I stay up late night telling stories about. a handful of ones that are just nights, weekends, and names. numbers that I can't recall. people that never wanted anything but a part of me. sometimes they didn't even know right away that they'd wanted it.
a couple that last months. one long distant that loved me more than I realized. he still won't talk to me. another that drove me crazy with his weird irrationality. last time I saw him he said he was joining the marines.
so much filler, so many in betweens. people I've met, people I haven't. a boy that had such beautiful words that I felt ashamed to ever open my mouth or pick up a pen. camera eyes and sugared fingers and he wouldn't kiss me.
then there is polyamory. one with origami hands that danced across me but something never seemed right no matter how I loved him. something always was off, and it unbalanced me too. I had to go. and the other, the other, a year later, who seemed one thing at the beginning and another at the end. that I won't ever understand, no matter how I rationalize it all. someday it won't matter, but now it still pinches.
and then, and then. painful there too is the love for a friend I can't touch. that is too new to talk much about.
this is why, these are the reasons my mind brings these things to surface when I find myself in the current situation.
memories.
spirals.
warnings.
heed all or have another memory for the next game.

Saturday, February 7, 2004

09:05 p.m.

wishful thinking
I don't even know the words to my favourite songs. all I know is how they make me feel.
someday maybe my favourite songs will make me happy instead of bringing sad memories to surface. someday maybe I'll be able to sing along without stumbling. someday maybe I won't miss the people that have hurt me.
someday maybe I'll realize they were never worth it anyway. some people are worthless until we give them meaning. they have no power but what we feel, and I don't want to grant them that any more.
I just don't know how to stop.

maybe someday I will.

Friday, February 6, 2004

11:05 p.m.

the near future.
there will come a time when I won't think, "I'm over you,"
because I won't think about you
at all.

Tuesday, January 20, 2004

10:03 a.m.

my calendar
shane was golden, and reminds me always of summer despite us dating in winter. steve spanned several seasons but reminds me of short days and winter. dave came in the summer, but never reminds me of that time. instead he is the spring and autumn; a new beginning and an ending.
tom and forrest are non-persons. they have no season. they merely reflect the colour of that which is closest to them. they are not unique unless the person nearest to them is.
and tophe, well, tophe is everything whenever he needs to be. he is the spring when I need change and newness, the autumn when I need closure and clarity. he is the warmth of summer when I am cold, long days to walk with and catch fireflies. when I tire of the warmth, he is the winter and with his darkness shields me from the blinding sun. he is all seasons and all things.
and I hope it never ends.

Friday, January 16, 2004

11:05 p.m.

duh
so many times we can't see what is right in front of our faces. I hate the triteness associated with positive outpourings of love. I despise reading about other people's wonderful experiences with their life.
but the negativity, the broken-heartedness, the sheer uselessness of my secondary love life has been killing me lately. I think I'm finally getting over it all, but every time I say that, something else kicks me in the jaw and knocks me flat on my back.
if I don't think too much, everything in this aspect seems fine. delving uncovers the fact that I've never healed from a break up that is now four years old, that I'm in love with one of my ex's best friends, that I have an intense crush on a married mog straight girl from work, and I can just barely not get over my last boyfriend.
even so, those are mostly scars, not open wounds. the crush is really only a scratch I wish would heal.
healing comes with time, and support, and thought. closure. it's hard to reach closure with those that will not talk to you. instead the dreams try to create reconciliation and I talk with others.
others that are more caring, others that will not leave me. one other in specific.
it is nice to realize I've fallen in love with my ideal person, without realizing he was my ideal person. it's nice to realize I'm really in love.
finally, something good has come from love.

Wednesday, January 14, 2004