| 100 words exactly without even trying. |
[04 Jul 2006|03:25am] |
I am the most boring person in the world.
A friend bit me at her 35th birthday party. Another friend (a closer friend) threatened to tell everyone not to bite me ever again if I don't get off my ass and find a girl to make out with this week.
I can't seem to find anything worth writing about in my own journal.
None of this is news to anyone who really knows me.
I have a certain friend to whom none of this should be news, but we haven't talked in too long and she knows none of this.
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| Wine and you |
[02 May 2006|03:23pm] |
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mood |
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confused |
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music |
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Everlast - White Trash Beautiful |
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I’m sitting in Tin Palace, with a bottle of wine wishing I could’ve shared my day with you. I need to spend more time alone with you. For a moment, I toy with the idea, that maybe we could go out, just the two of us. Is that stupid? We’ve been out hundreds of times, haven’t we? It doesn’t make sense, but as I’m finding, the more I think about you, the less sense I make out of anything. My mind spins out of control just imagining your voice. It scares me that I’ve come to depend on that feeling.
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| fast slow fast fast slow |
[23 Apr 2006|10:53pm] |
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music |
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Poe - Hey Pretty (Drive-by Remix) |
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Tonight was the first time in a long time that the anxious voice in my head was so hard to stop that I listened to music loud enough to hurt. I drove fast on the highway, the windows down and the stereo blasting, trying not to think that maybe the reason a certain friend hasn’t called me back is that something horrible happened and she’s in bad shape or dead and no one knows to call me, trying not to wonder why (of the few I get at all) the most incidental and everyday hugs seem to be the best.
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[18 Apr 2006|10:55am] |
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mood |
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warm |
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music |
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pitter-patter |
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She's asleep right now, tangled up in exhaustion and bed sheets, burying her head against the unwelcome morning light. She twitches sporadically through dreams and my arms, soft cries trailing through the air when she sees something amazing.
The clouds are gathering dark outside and the wind is picking up from the east to make wavelets of froth and bubble on the river. Winter is finally making an appearance here on the west coast, gently giving us a taste of what is to come with a fine mist that drifts down amongst the grass.
She dreams and shivers once more.
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| sugar, when I win the lottery I'm gonna buy you a crown. |
[09 Apr 2006|09:49am] |
it is worst when he shames her. he thinks it is her job, to be shamed. no, it is just her job to make him feel like king. he thinks the pay is good enough for her to be his footstool. no, even furniture is cleaned, maintained, put away delicately. left to become ancient with pride. she will become an antiquity before her time is up. he will line her face with his calloused fingertips, her torso with his rough desire. if there is not her body, what does she have? her pride? a bullet, she says.
kiss [bang] me.
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| Desire |
[25 Mar 2006|02:12pm] |
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Time to give it all up again. Time to forget everything that was. Silly dreams and goals that drive me forward. Accomplishments that describe who I am. The world is nothing now. It is nothing in the light of my desire. Stand aside or be sundered. Nothing will survive in my wake. My body may crumble, my mind may falter, my soul may be lost. But I will obtain my desire. Do not stand in my way. Worlds will shatter beneath my feet only to know the passion that drives me forward. All of this in the name of desire.
~Twilight
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[21 Mar 2006|12:16pm] |
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Time has stood still in between our breaths. All the moments before and after have crumbled beneath our pressure to fold back and keep today just one more second long. The words we saved for rainy days like this have shifted into forgotten dreams that we share through gestures and held back smiles. Tomorrow only comes when we let go. Today only ends when we start breathing again. We hold back our incomplete heartbeats for a chance that just for a second in time these hearts and hands are all we need. One more second is more than just time…
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| my friend the rainbow |
[06 Mar 2006|05:21pm] |
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My friend the rainbow juggles teacups from rooftops, and dangles strings of dandelions over pedestrians below. Never once has someone looked up to find them dancing in the wind and celebrating news of the day, but he dangles them there and there they do dangle. From time to time his teacups fall and topple through the air, filled to the brim with passion and grace that, thanks to his good friend inertia, remain tucked away inside their hollow. Never once have his teacups smashed, though it’s true that they do fall, and perhaps one day he will pick them up.
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| st.va. |
[17 Feb 2006|11:59pm] |
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My girlfriend and I made a heart the other day, its tiny form beat a patter on the pillow between us. Ruby particles drifted in the air from our lips up through the inferior and superior vena cava and lit it from the inside, veins showing amidst the thick muscle. It pulsed weakly in the beginning, but the murmuring red strengthened it to a steady thump-thump as the morning hours crept slowly by. That rhythm kept us company as sleep overtook us again and again – a warm echo of something lost long ago when we came into this world apart.
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| a friend, somewhat fictional |
[03 Feb 2006|06:54pm] |
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He leant against a street corner on a crisp Paris day, shooting a deliberate glance to those he felt worthy. His denim flares, leather jacket, and subtle yet effective eye make-up drew a wandering eye from near every passer-by. He flicked his cigarette into the gutter, a manoeuvre in which he’d acquired skill, allowing the last breath of smoke between two perfectly poised lips. He was familiar, not because he resided there, or because he’d visited that street corner previously (perhaps in a previous life), but because his glamorous façade found home in such a city. Though he did not.
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| shadows |
[02 Feb 2006|05:25pm] |
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lately it seems ive been walking in a shadow forest. Full of shadows of people i once knew, shadows of people i once was. shadows of people ive yet to meet and shadows of people ill never see. shadows of those who care and shadows of those who never will. While walking through these shadows, visions haunt me, some that havent happened yet and some that never will. some are memories which are fleeting and some that ive forgotten. i begin to question the validity of my life. where is that mask when you need it? conversing with a nick-nack.
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| following up the banner (to conform to proper format) |
[02 Feb 2006|10:15pm] |
so i made a banner for the asylum. yes, i persnicketed your words without permission, but i left the personal ones to you. so the banner is here now, if you want to post it somewhere to advertise then go ahead, but please save it on your own server and do it that way. my image hosting is often dodgy. if people like the banner i’ll make some more, as well as icons. if you want your words removed from it, just ask and i’ll get on to it ASAP. if you have any other suggestions for it, ditto.
enjoy.
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| Ad/banner, using 100 words from our asylum. Like it? Hate it? Want something changed? Comment. |
[02 Feb 2006|10:13pm] |
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| A letter from a stranger |
[31 Jan 2006|11:20am] |
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music |
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QOTSA - Burn the Witch (Unkle Variation) |
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Say goodbye to Mrs. Hodges, who after apologizing for what seems like the hundredth time finally manages to put left foot before right over the store threshold. Count money. Change tags. Lock cupboards. Switch lights. The lock clicks and the beeping of the alarm fades as I wander to my car. I said I wouldn’t look at your letter until the morning but I think that you’ll forgive me as I bring it out of its cover and read. The car park is empty, dark and dusty but the letters feel warm under my fingers, I grin at the night.
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[30 Jan 2006|08:58pm] |
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mood |
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contemplative |
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music |
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dead can dance... severance |
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Forever this winter is holding still the days that could complete the mess we are so eager to continue creating. In and around the words we stumble over I find the concept of you and I so much more concrete than our breathing would ever imply. Yet second by second the possibilities are lost on me as I continually turn the wrong corners to find you ten stories above my best guess. Someday we’ll find our solid ground between the stars and your beating heart. Someday all the right places are going to be where we find our steps leading.
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| "were your eyes always so close?" |
[31 Jan 2006|09:47am] |
we sat in that moment. in that moment we sat. there we sat, momentarily.
and into my ear (or was it cheek, face, leg?) you breathed your secret, so breathy i did not realise what i was holding, in that moment, sitting there.
crowd, screaming, sky pushing in- this was not secret time, secret place, secret language. and i was not secret material, but perhaps?
i misunderstood,
so you showed me.
and so small, so plain, so simple, this; i had to check again. entrusting me with knowledge to save and destroy, had i been anything more
than a stranger.
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[11 Jan 2006|12:10am] |
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There are periods of time during which I believe I will never feel the same again – terrible, anxious seconds that tick away with my heartbeat, ponderous inside my chest. During these times it seems as if I will die from the weight of the knowledge of my self, my consciousness. These times are balanced by other minutes of unimaginable warmth. A contentment with the world and an understanding that this is it, a brief handshake with a universe full of light and laughter, colour and joy before moving on to different skies. Recent times have proven the latter more obvious.
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[01 Jan 2006|03:03am] |
I managed to go to the bar. Even drunk I’m managing to type mostly coherently (with a few exceptions). Mariyah is cute cute cute and someday I’d like to have a real conversation with her, but New Year’s Eve isn’t exactly the night to catch a few free minutes with a working bartender… A working bartender who mostly works in the peds ICU… I feel weird saying that I feel like that kind of altruism is sexy, but… well, maybe it’s just the peds and not so much the altruism.
It doesn’t hurt that nursing school means she’s smart, too.
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| the power of pasta: a christmas story a la the notebook, filled with love, magic & cheap carbs. |
[31 Dec 2005|10:54pm] |
“mr doodle! don’t you wanna go to the pageant? there’s gonna be some real pretty angels. and turkey for dinner!”
“macaroni!”
“that’s right, we DO eat macaroni.”
he pointed to the Christmas tree. “macaroni!” he pointed to the piano. “macaroni!” he pointed to the nurse. “macaroni!”
across the room, an elderly woman turned and walked over. “what was that?”
“aw, nothing miss. ever since he arrived, that’s all he’s said, macaroni. don’t you worry…”
but the woman was already with him, whispering something.
“yankee?”
“macaroni?”
“yankee!”
“macaroni!”
the rest was muffled by sobs as the couple embraced, reunited at last.
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| the bar across the street is calling to me (and the cute bartender i know would make it even better) |
[31 Dec 2005|03:32am] |
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The allure of the bar across the street is building and just as I am pondering what I could possibly do in a bar all alone when I know I’m still not going to talk to strangers and thinking about a good friend who spent her birthday reading by herself in a bar, said good friend calls. She tells me all the reasons I already know why I should go over there and she all but dares me to go. I want to go. Even tranquilizers don’t stop the paralysis that comes when I try to get up and go.
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