I never loved you, but you didn't care. You wanted to hear it anyway. You'd breathe your desperate "I love you"s into my mouth with each kiss - brush them across my skin with every touch. It broke my heart. I'd press my fingers hard against your neck so I would feel more human. I caught your words with my hands and strangled them before they could do real harm. You hung yourself on my ceiling and sang to me, but I didn't hear you.

I'll never hear you.

I'm in love.

This fit will be mine.

I'm preparing myself for change.

Love and Thickness

*Tribute poem to e.e. cummings

"Stars are the thesis of the soul"
Bright shining, never-ending---
The surrounding darkness
which will never cease to be envious
of the luminosity.
Figuratively speaking, life---
Paled in comparison by the cosmos.
And then literary highs. Literary highs?
But there will always be the literary lows
When sometimes, doesn't it feel like
it could go on forever?
That we could go on forever?
To tap, to type letters into your heart.
That's all I will ever want,
darling.
That's all I will ever want.

Avoidance

Food. Sex. Sleep. Food. Sex. Sleep. Food. Sex. Sleep. Food. Sex. Sleep.

Food
Sex
Sleep

Food.
Sex.
Sleep.

Why do I bother writing? Why do I bother trying to evaluate and/or empathize with people and their misdirected feelings (for want of a better word)? It can all be summarized with three simple words. And no, they aren’t “I love you”. Eating too much. Doing all you can to avoid it. Sleeping too much. Doing all you can to avoid it. Sex-addict? Doing all you can to avoid it. Addict? Doing all you can to avoid it. Doing all you can not to avoid it. Doing all you can to find it. Doing all you can not to lose it. Misdirected. I am so misdirected. Money is not the root of all evil. Humans are the root of all evil. Your lives are made up of greed and avoidance. My life is made up of hiding and seeking. Our lives are made up of interest and apathy.

I care because I care because I care because I care because (It’s funny how words lose their meaning once you repeat them over and over again) I care because I care because I care because I care because I don’t have any other fucking option.

I can practically feel my desperation materializing into a tangible object, clawing and clawing and ripping me apart. Everything is exploding around me. Expanding. And things become clear. Then it shrinks. And shrinks. And was it ever clear to begin with? This is life. It comes, it goes.

Food. Sex. Sleep. Sex. Sleep. Sleep. Sex. Food. Sex. Sleep. Sleep. Sleep. Nothing exists the way it should anymore. I do not exist, but I can't stop trying. No. Wait. I mean. I won't.

Human nature. It's just so goddamned predictable.

The only person I lie to is myself.



Alone With Everybody

the flesh covers the bone
and they put a mind
in there and
sometimes a soul,
and the women break
vases against the walls
and the men drink too
much
and nobody finds the
one
but keep
looking
crawling in and out
of beds.
flesh covers
the bone and the
flesh searches
for more than
flesh.

there's no chance
at all:
we are all trapped
by a singular
fate.

nobody ever finds
the one.

the city dumps fill
the junkyards fill
the madhouses fill
the hospitals fill
the graveyards fill

nothing else
fills.


Anonymous submission.

-Charles Bukowski

I just want

to see you eat your words. Emotions are a funny thing. So fickle.

10 Minute

Free-Write I was assigned to do for English class. Kinda like stream of consciousness. Kinda not. Whatever. Here it is:

Free-Write #2
Topic: What do you want to get out of college?

I suppose this is where I begin my rant of sorts of what I'd like to get out of college. As far as I'm concerned, the real question should be "What can you get out of college, exactly?" It's a bit inconsequential, isn't it? What are we really working towards? What am I really working towards? The purpose of highschool is to prepare for four years of college. The purpose of college is to prepare for an average paying job (sometimes not even that). The purpose of having a job is to earn a promotion. It just goes on and on. How fucking boring, really. On a side-note, I hate this free-writing bullshit. Not being able to correct unsatisfactory statements that I write drives me half-way insane (so I'm pretty much completely insane now, seeing as how I'm already half-way insane to begin with). And so the rant continues. As I was saying, I sit here half the time wondering what the point of doing anything is. How existential of me. Life revolves around materialistic gain and materialistic losses. As awesome as that sounds, I'd rather not. Then, the other half of me (yes, I have two halves) protests. It is essential to go to college. It is essential to acquire a high-paying career. You can't accomplish anything you really want to do if you have no funds to support it. And God knows my folks won't comply. But within the time that you work, and work, and work, and work work work to finally be ready to fulfill all those petty ambitions you yearned for in your golden years, you've already given up. You've become comfortable with living in this robotic, (and as much as I hate people who rant about capitalism) capitalist society that chews up and spits out every innocent passersby and their broken dreams. It sounds depressing, and you know what? It is. And you know what's even more gloomy? I don't know what the hell to do about it. I don't agree with the things society tells me I should agree with, yet I'm still along for the ride. Let's see where this gets me. Don't get me wrong, I value education. It's important. Without the education that I've recieved I wouldn't have ever become acquainted with some of my favorite writers. Some of my favorite directors. But the whole university system is fucked up, in my humble opinion. I want to major in Creative Writing, right? And to get where I want to be, I'm required to take a bunch of completely unrelated general education/language (I hate Japanese) classes that have nothing to do with my aspirations. Why? Money. Money money money. It's always about the money. We need to stay in a university as long as we can. We need to take a bunch of pointless fucking classes like Japanese when we have no interest in that subject at all. Two reasons. Like I said, the first is money. The second? To prove to society that we will do pointless shit that makes no sense, just to show that WE ARE WILLING. We are willing to do senseless work that really impacts our own goals in no way at all. We are even willing to pay to do this. Hell, what am I saying? I'm willing, too! Because I can't figure out a way to get out of it yet. And there probably isn't. There will always be the minimum requirements for everything you do in life. We just need to accept it. Ideally, I'd like to write for a magazine. I'd just like to write. A book, maybe? Something. The only people that really get what they want out of life are those who throw everything away to do exactly what it is that they want. And even then, only a fraction of those people achieve their untainted dreams. Everybody else? All of us? We're just along for the ride, always waiting for the next promotion. Always numbing ourselves to the fact that we're not really happy. Either that or you're in a constant state of panic, never knowing what to do with yourself but always feeling trapped inside your own body. Hating yourself for being here. Hating yourself for not even being able to do that properly. So go cry about it. God knows I do. Love yourself if, at least, you realize things for what they are. It might mean your soul isn't completely dead yet. My 10 minutes is up. In conclusion, COLLEGE RULES AND LIFE IS AWESOME.

I can hardly breathe.

Sometimes I feel like I am split down the middle and the two halves of my being are somehow able to function together physically.








I might fall apart one of these days.

I'm fucking sick of self-proclaimed assholes who are constantly at a never-ending battle with the world. The goal? To prove how goddamn intellectual and well-spoken they are. Shut the fuck up, and get over yourselves please. Where are the "happy mediums" in life hiding?

Fuck your plaid shirts.
Fuck your obscure MySpace photographs.
Fuck you and the fact that you'll always be a hypocritical cunt.

Yeah, you're well-read. Yeah, you're eloquent. But all those books and clever remarks will never make you any less of a piece of shit.

Shove your pointless verbal backlashes up your ass, to keep company with the stick that's been lodged up there for the greater portion of your existence.

Dick.

On a lighter note, here's a picture of the man of my dreams:

I am so uncomfortable.

Only I would voluntarily wear a black leather jacket in this sweltering heat. Perhaps I secretly enjoy the sensation of subtle asphyxiation.

In my second week of college, I'm quickly realizing that I need to stop being such a pessimistic asshole.

On second thought, I don't. What I need to stop being is FUCKING LAZY. I'm just trying to make excuses for myself - my "pessimism" is usually what gets me up in the morning.

I desperately need to start blogging more often, and get a sliver of my thoughts in written form. Usually when I have an excess of thought I am mentally and physically immobile.

God, I need motivation.

Music helps.
Albums of the day below.


The Buzzcocks - Singles Going Steady

I'm particularly fond of "Everybody's Happy Nowadays".

Cake - Fashion Nugget

Every song on this album is remarkable. Today, I think "Friend Is A Four Letter Word" deserves special recognition.

On a completely random side-note, I think people throw the term "I'm bored" around much too loosely. Even when I'm sitting down, staring at a blank wall it takes a while for me to get bored. Blank walls can be really beautiful. They're one of my personal symbols of hope. How can that be boring? I've discovered that people who get bored easily are usually boring ass people to begin with.

Another concept I can't fully grasp are people saying that they "want a boyfriend/girlfriend". Maybe you want some real companionship with another human being whose clothes you're allowed to take off, but fulfilling that desire simply by acquiring an equally confused person to call your boyfriend or girlfriend just complicates things if you don't know the first thing about what it means to be in a healthy, compassionate relationship. (ie: Companionship does NOT mean spending every fucking waking moment together, and basically being stuck up the others asshole. That's called torture/an early death and/or incarceration).

*Those who are desperate to be in a smothering excuse for a relationship are usually bored, aren't they? Yeah, that's right. Go fuck yourself.

I mean, I guess I want a boyfriend who would be just as amused as I am by virtually nothing. Don't get me wrong, embarking on fanciful adventures with your significant other would be ideal too, but I'm waiting for someone who would occasionally sit down with me and hold my hand while we gaze at the aforementioned wall together.

Love is not just looking at each other, it's looking in the same direction.
Antoine de Saint-Exupery

It's too bad that such a person doesn't exist.