I can't sleep.
I can't write.
I hate anxiety that I can't seem to stop.
I can't focus.
I don't even know what else to write, I need to get it out there. But how?
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Friday, April 24, 2009
Surrounded by the music coming from the record player,
Drunkards squished onto a couch,
Having a conversation about bugs and ketchup,
Being drowned by time,
It's one thirty in the morning and I'm freezing,
Wanting to grab an oversized blanket and curl up on that bed,
I let my eyes focus on dirty jeans,
Pretending to read,
Dodgy dreams and swollen throats.
Drunkards squished onto a couch,
Having a conversation about bugs and ketchup,
Being drowned by time,
It's one thirty in the morning and I'm freezing,
Wanting to grab an oversized blanket and curl up on that bed,
I let my eyes focus on dirty jeans,
Pretending to read,
Dodgy dreams and swollen throats.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
8am wake up call.
So for the past few days I've had to get up very early for doctor appointments.
I guess it's been nice waking up early?
Except for the fact that I always take a nap around 3pm and then try to fall asleep at 11pm and can never do it.
Therefore making me super tired every morning.
Boo.
The thunderstorm tonight was great.
Tomorrow looks like it will be a great day to do nothing.
Perhaps get some ice cream down in Trolley,
Cuddle and watch Lost in the nighttime.
May 31st is getting closer.
=]
Mike starts his job Thursday night.
I've been listening to this song over and over again because I can't find the lyrics so I'm trying to learn them on my own.
All I've gotten so far is...
"I'm counting sheep while you sleep,
Television lights take effect on me...
...
I'm building castles to protect you"
Or something like that.
I guess it's been nice waking up early?
Except for the fact that I always take a nap around 3pm and then try to fall asleep at 11pm and can never do it.
Therefore making me super tired every morning.
Boo.
The thunderstorm tonight was great.
Tomorrow looks like it will be a great day to do nothing.
Perhaps get some ice cream down in Trolley,
Cuddle and watch Lost in the nighttime.
May 31st is getting closer.
=]
Mike starts his job Thursday night.
I've been listening to this song over and over again because I can't find the lyrics so I'm trying to learn them on my own.
All I've gotten so far is...
"I'm counting sheep while you sleep,
Television lights take effect on me...
...
I'm building castles to protect you"
Or something like that.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Also
I found some oldies I had started and never finished.
I hope you enjoy!
His nose was speckled with freckles given to him by the rays of the sun. They lay smothered in the crevices of his wrinkles given to him by old age. As his mouth moved, I swear I could see the dust gasp and cling to the open air. He was in love once, but now walked the streets of this town alone and full. I was graced with only one of his endless stories, memories. The flower of his heart, his Spanish goddess, his Stephanie.
Breathe in deep and hold onto the smoke, let it out slowly, only when you’re ready. A summer evening spent rolling joints and bruising fingers on guitar strings. Each cloud was placed in the sky so that no matter where the sun lay, you could make out the perfect circle of a shady, burning fireball. It was as if to say, “Enjoy this, you’re hidden and safe, but still burning, still awake, still here.” That was the existence of his summer. Burning, awake, safe. He sat, back to the fire, looking in the opposite direction of where the van had broken down 5 miles back. Staring off into the distance, down the road, for the past half an hour, he has been making out a flowing silhouette. Flowing skirt, flowing hair. That’s all he saw. As the figure slowly but surely crawled forward, he started to see colors and more distinct shapes. Her skirt was sheer and he could make out the perfect curving outline of her dark legs. Her waist long hair was filled with waves like an angry sea, dark and sensual.
----
It’s the middle of winter, when the air surrounding your lips tastes like an ice cube, and the ground you set your feet upon is a frozen desert. Naked, vulnerable with a sense of potential. The only color on the faces of the people passing you is the pink of their noses and the pale orange that the falling sun allows to rest on their cheeks. You can tell the time of day by the wideness of their eyes. Necks don’t exist during this season. A human’s only relation to a graceful giraffe is hiding in a blend of quiet wool. It’s now that you desire the touch of warm, moist lips on the space between your collar bones and defined jaws. The hot breath of another person is what you crave. It’s the middle of winter, when every thing is a mystery.
A man and a woman walk down perpendicular city sidewalks. The woman greets the corner with a sigh and rests her bundled rose body on a bench outside of a brick building. She closes her eyes, fighting to replenish moisture to them that was taken away by the seventeen degree air. She opens them, spiked by the unforgiving wind. With a glance to her right she notices that a man dressed in a mess of clothing has sat down beside her, his head buried in his blue tinted hands, his elbows on his shaking knees, attached to his covered legs, his feet, which are planted firmly on the concrete.
---
Hypnotized by the false premonition of guarantee,
The wolf howls at the moon with belief.
Unaware of forward steps in the snow, beseeching on the ground;
Imprinted and bleeding cool water,
Counting on the next snowfall, in time.
Somewhere, there are unique flakes that correspond with a girl’s heart.
The howling wolf and faithful girl swim in the same sea. Somewhere.
Sea lion crawls gracefully through salty tastes,
Head filled with great debris and good-hearted haste.
In contact with the salt, seeping through their pores,
A throat to match the rough reef, still below.
Somewhere, there are water blown whiskers that dine with a boy’s heart.
The crawling sea lion and untamed boy swim in the same sea. Somewhere.
Captivating and manipulating,
Soggy jeans and shear blouses.
A sea is a sea alone,
But with hearts flowing through the waters,
It’s potential is so much more.
---
Cracks on your lips and the saliva trapped in the imprints,
A desire for contact, living off of soft wishes,
Glowing peach skin ignites the situation we're in,
Bark of the trees claims your eyes,
Your hand claims mine,
This day matches the curve of your eyelashes,
Roaring of tigers and songs of crickets,
Are our transitions from day to night,
You urge me to dive, jump, fly,
Like the anticipation before a thunderstorm,
Before the earth cracks and bends accordingly,
Bowing in front of Mother Nature,
As your back arches and your body sweats,
A bolt of lightening catches my breath,
Lost for words, thoughts, and emotions,
All I can do is quiver in your presence,
Storm clouds scale your eyes,
I lay there trapped in your rhythm,
In every direction, like the thunder persuades the trees,
Suddenly, the ocean becomes calm,
Theres a light breeze blowing between moistened leaves,
The clouds lose their sickly look,
The sun is brought back into your eyes,
We lay listening to the faded song of the crickets,
Just as I drift into dream-world,
Your fingers dance on my stomach,
And I hear the distant roar of tiger morning.
I hope you enjoy!
His nose was speckled with freckles given to him by the rays of the sun. They lay smothered in the crevices of his wrinkles given to him by old age. As his mouth moved, I swear I could see the dust gasp and cling to the open air. He was in love once, but now walked the streets of this town alone and full. I was graced with only one of his endless stories, memories. The flower of his heart, his Spanish goddess, his Stephanie.
Breathe in deep and hold onto the smoke, let it out slowly, only when you’re ready. A summer evening spent rolling joints and bruising fingers on guitar strings. Each cloud was placed in the sky so that no matter where the sun lay, you could make out the perfect circle of a shady, burning fireball. It was as if to say, “Enjoy this, you’re hidden and safe, but still burning, still awake, still here.” That was the existence of his summer. Burning, awake, safe. He sat, back to the fire, looking in the opposite direction of where the van had broken down 5 miles back. Staring off into the distance, down the road, for the past half an hour, he has been making out a flowing silhouette. Flowing skirt, flowing hair. That’s all he saw. As the figure slowly but surely crawled forward, he started to see colors and more distinct shapes. Her skirt was sheer and he could make out the perfect curving outline of her dark legs. Her waist long hair was filled with waves like an angry sea, dark and sensual.
----
It’s the middle of winter, when the air surrounding your lips tastes like an ice cube, and the ground you set your feet upon is a frozen desert. Naked, vulnerable with a sense of potential. The only color on the faces of the people passing you is the pink of their noses and the pale orange that the falling sun allows to rest on their cheeks. You can tell the time of day by the wideness of their eyes. Necks don’t exist during this season. A human’s only relation to a graceful giraffe is hiding in a blend of quiet wool. It’s now that you desire the touch of warm, moist lips on the space between your collar bones and defined jaws. The hot breath of another person is what you crave. It’s the middle of winter, when every thing is a mystery.
A man and a woman walk down perpendicular city sidewalks. The woman greets the corner with a sigh and rests her bundled rose body on a bench outside of a brick building. She closes her eyes, fighting to replenish moisture to them that was taken away by the seventeen degree air. She opens them, spiked by the unforgiving wind. With a glance to her right she notices that a man dressed in a mess of clothing has sat down beside her, his head buried in his blue tinted hands, his elbows on his shaking knees, attached to his covered legs, his feet, which are planted firmly on the concrete.
---
Hypnotized by the false premonition of guarantee,
The wolf howls at the moon with belief.
Unaware of forward steps in the snow, beseeching on the ground;
Imprinted and bleeding cool water,
Counting on the next snowfall, in time.
Somewhere, there are unique flakes that correspond with a girl’s heart.
The howling wolf and faithful girl swim in the same sea. Somewhere.
Sea lion crawls gracefully through salty tastes,
Head filled with great debris and good-hearted haste.
In contact with the salt, seeping through their pores,
A throat to match the rough reef, still below.
Somewhere, there are water blown whiskers that dine with a boy’s heart.
The crawling sea lion and untamed boy swim in the same sea. Somewhere.
Captivating and manipulating,
Soggy jeans and shear blouses.
A sea is a sea alone,
But with hearts flowing through the waters,
It’s potential is so much more.
---
Cracks on your lips and the saliva trapped in the imprints,
A desire for contact, living off of soft wishes,
Glowing peach skin ignites the situation we're in,
Bark of the trees claims your eyes,
Your hand claims mine,
This day matches the curve of your eyelashes,
Roaring of tigers and songs of crickets,
Are our transitions from day to night,
You urge me to dive, jump, fly,
Like the anticipation before a thunderstorm,
Before the earth cracks and bends accordingly,
Bowing in front of Mother Nature,
As your back arches and your body sweats,
A bolt of lightening catches my breath,
Lost for words, thoughts, and emotions,
All I can do is quiver in your presence,
Storm clouds scale your eyes,
I lay there trapped in your rhythm,
In every direction, like the thunder persuades the trees,
Suddenly, the ocean becomes calm,
Theres a light breeze blowing between moistened leaves,
The clouds lose their sickly look,
The sun is brought back into your eyes,
We lay listening to the faded song of the crickets,
Just as I drift into dream-world,
Your fingers dance on my stomach,
And I hear the distant roar of tiger morning.
Back.
This is my first short, short, short story. My attempt to reconnect with the writing world.
-
Kara sat on the bed and gazed through the second floor window. Her hands were covered in stale, orange paint. She could see the grass swelling as the sun stared straight into the blades. They received no mercy. Kara smelled a burnt frying pan along with last night’s longing stench of puke and weed. Turning her eyes to her toes where her sleeping cat lay, mouth open, legs spread, unconscious to it’s surroundings, the young woman noticed a half empty beer bottle on the foot of her bed. As she reached towards the brown, translucent bottle, she could feel gravity pushing at every bone and muscle in her scrawny body.
“Got it.” She stated to the feline, with a smirk, as if the furry thing cared. Swig, drag, swig. Kara stood and threw an extra large t-shirt over her arms, passed her head and pulled the bottom hem down until her shoulders could bear the weight. She loved the feeling of sticky air tunneling through the neck hole, gliding down her stomach and onto her legs. As humid as it was, it was a relief none-the-less.
Walking into the kitchen, Kara saw a man with dark sunglasses on and only wearing blue striped boxers frying bacon. He didn’t seem to notice the smoldering specks of grease hitting his chest and arms.
“Morning.” She muttered, receiving no reply. Kara felt a splatter of grease hit her hand as she scratched her scalp and pushed her cherry hair out of her eyes. She paid no mind, stepped over more animals of the feline type and out the door, rolling into the back yard. Mouth open, eyes closed, grabbing grass at her sides, Kara’s mind disappeared.
Picture a princess on a horse, a brown horse with white spots on his tale and mane. The princess rode through an open field full of yellow daisies. Trees, hills, nothing in sight, nothing but the yellow flowers speckled with the green of the grass. The sky is orange, just shades of orange. Suddenly a frog appeared. He was as big as a full grown weeping willow. The horse laid onto the ground, succumbing to the monstrous creature.
“You must be calm, my young princess.” His voice, unexpectingly quiet, “ The time will come when you will reach great heights. You must be calm.”
Letting go of the green ground, Kara sank back into her head and opened her eyes. She glided back inside of the house and to the bathroom. She turned on the water as hot as it could go in the shower.
-
-
Kara sat on the bed and gazed through the second floor window. Her hands were covered in stale, orange paint. She could see the grass swelling as the sun stared straight into the blades. They received no mercy. Kara smelled a burnt frying pan along with last night’s longing stench of puke and weed. Turning her eyes to her toes where her sleeping cat lay, mouth open, legs spread, unconscious to it’s surroundings, the young woman noticed a half empty beer bottle on the foot of her bed. As she reached towards the brown, translucent bottle, she could feel gravity pushing at every bone and muscle in her scrawny body.
“Got it.” She stated to the feline, with a smirk, as if the furry thing cared. Swig, drag, swig. Kara stood and threw an extra large t-shirt over her arms, passed her head and pulled the bottom hem down until her shoulders could bear the weight. She loved the feeling of sticky air tunneling through the neck hole, gliding down her stomach and onto her legs. As humid as it was, it was a relief none-the-less.
Walking into the kitchen, Kara saw a man with dark sunglasses on and only wearing blue striped boxers frying bacon. He didn’t seem to notice the smoldering specks of grease hitting his chest and arms.
“Morning.” She muttered, receiving no reply. Kara felt a splatter of grease hit her hand as she scratched her scalp and pushed her cherry hair out of her eyes. She paid no mind, stepped over more animals of the feline type and out the door, rolling into the back yard. Mouth open, eyes closed, grabbing grass at her sides, Kara’s mind disappeared.
Picture a princess on a horse, a brown horse with white spots on his tale and mane. The princess rode through an open field full of yellow daisies. Trees, hills, nothing in sight, nothing but the yellow flowers speckled with the green of the grass. The sky is orange, just shades of orange. Suddenly a frog appeared. He was as big as a full grown weeping willow. The horse laid onto the ground, succumbing to the monstrous creature.
“You must be calm, my young princess.” His voice, unexpectingly quiet, “ The time will come when you will reach great heights. You must be calm.”
Letting go of the green ground, Kara sank back into her head and opened her eyes. She glided back inside of the house and to the bathroom. She turned on the water as hot as it could go in the shower.
-
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Monday, April 13, 2009
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Friday, April 10, 2009
naked twin beds, naked twins
hair grows faster than heart beats
nickels and dimes, fivetentime
naked twin beds, you and me
you and me
his belt slaps, roaring BOOM
dance to the sweaty seagulls
don't let them dance harder
the milk pours, sonic BOOM
the turtles survive
the turtles survive
by the wounds of forgotten babies
the turtles survive
the life
naked queen beds, naked queens
sweating organs, glass in cracks
for a boy! for a boy!
disown her, rebel violet red lips
naked king beds, naked kings
hysterical laugh BOOM
hair grows faster than heart beats
nickels and dimes, fivetentime
naked twin beds, you and me
you and me
his belt slaps, roaring BOOM
dance to the sweaty seagulls
don't let them dance harder
the milk pours, sonic BOOM
the turtles survive
the turtles survive
by the wounds of forgotten babies
the turtles survive
the life
naked queen beds, naked queens
sweating organs, glass in cracks
for a boy! for a boy!
disown her, rebel violet red lips
naked king beds, naked kings
hysterical laugh BOOM
Maybe my heart's just lonely.
For a moment I quit.
Sick and tired, tired and sick.
"CAT SCAN.
blood.
fluid.
mass.
dizziness.
faint.
white cell count.
blood pressure.
quit smoking.
stress.
unsure.
strange.
foreign."
Just a few words I've been hearing a lot this past month.
With all the doctors and all the questions and unfamiliar words.
I want to write about someone that isn't me.
Sick and tired, tired and sick.
"CAT SCAN.
blood.
fluid.
mass.
dizziness.
faint.
white cell count.
blood pressure.
quit smoking.
stress.
unsure.
strange.
foreign."
Just a few words I've been hearing a lot this past month.
With all the doctors and all the questions and unfamiliar words.
I want to write about someone that isn't me.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
garfield bandaid.
held onto a teddy bear they had there.
i told the woman i faint a lot so i got to lay down in a huge recliner.
felt like shooting up heroine.
put the bear in front of my face.
after it was done, i sat up, made a joke, then my head filled with white noise and i looked at mike.
"damnit!"
he looked all scared and got me some water.
i couldn't hold my head up,
started sweating bullets from every part of my body,
mike took off my boots.
woman got me some ice packs.
body felt like it was floating,
embarrassed,
felt better.
i hate being tiny and losing blood.
i hate not being able to eat before getting blood taken.
boo.
afterwards at some delicious dunkin donuts and slept.
today is my nothing day.
mike and i are relaxing,
watching lost tonight.
=]
i told the woman i faint a lot so i got to lay down in a huge recliner.
felt like shooting up heroine.
put the bear in front of my face.
after it was done, i sat up, made a joke, then my head filled with white noise and i looked at mike.
"damnit!"
he looked all scared and got me some water.
i couldn't hold my head up,
started sweating bullets from every part of my body,
mike took off my boots.
woman got me some ice packs.
body felt like it was floating,
embarrassed,
felt better.
i hate being tiny and losing blood.
i hate not being able to eat before getting blood taken.
boo.
afterwards at some delicious dunkin donuts and slept.
today is my nothing day.
mike and i are relaxing,
watching lost tonight.
=]
104 pounds.
I'm getting blood taken today.
I've had to fast since midnight last night and I'm so hungry.
They found fluid near my heart.
Scary.
We'll see what happens.
I hope I don't pass out.
I've had to fast since midnight last night and I'm so hungry.
They found fluid near my heart.
Scary.
We'll see what happens.
I hope I don't pass out.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Still just a baby.
I quit my job two weeks ago. Ever since, I've been sleeping, watching t.v. and hanging out.
I'm not gonna complain, it's been nice. I still have a few hundred bucks to keep the cigarette and food flow going.
Don't miss it, one bit.
When I think about it right now, I realize that it has semi-fixed my mood.
I find myself not as monotonous.
Mike and I have been together for a year and a half.
He's the only person I've been able to be around every single day and still smile when I watch him sleep.
Though we've had serious ditches in the road, we sew patches on the tires still.
I can barely believe it. He is my best friend.
The weather is playing tricks on my mind. Every time it rains I remember someone telling me,
"When libras cry, it rains."
Should be hearing from NECI (the new england culinary institute) in Vermont soon.
If I get accepted it will be one of the happiest days of my life.
Even if I decide not to go to VT, I'll still feel so accomplished.
I visited Rachel's grave yesterday.
Rachel and Serena were born on the same exact day.
I got goosebumps and daydream of her still being alive.
I grazed my fingers against the grass above her to pick up the fallen rain,
and pressed it against my wrist where her turtle is.
I miss her so much.
I've stayed off drugs for her, I look at the bright side for her.
I'm not gonna complain, it's been nice. I still have a few hundred bucks to keep the cigarette and food flow going.
Don't miss it, one bit.
When I think about it right now, I realize that it has semi-fixed my mood.
I find myself not as monotonous.
Mike and I have been together for a year and a half.
He's the only person I've been able to be around every single day and still smile when I watch him sleep.
Though we've had serious ditches in the road, we sew patches on the tires still.
I can barely believe it. He is my best friend.
The weather is playing tricks on my mind. Every time it rains I remember someone telling me,
"When libras cry, it rains."
Should be hearing from NECI (the new england culinary institute) in Vermont soon.
If I get accepted it will be one of the happiest days of my life.
Even if I decide not to go to VT, I'll still feel so accomplished.
I visited Rachel's grave yesterday.
Rachel and Serena were born on the same exact day.
I got goosebumps and daydream of her still being alive.
I grazed my fingers against the grass above her to pick up the fallen rain,
and pressed it against my wrist where her turtle is.
I miss her so much.
I've stayed off drugs for her, I look at the bright side for her.
Open.
I've decided to make a promise to myself.
"This summer, I will write every day."
~~
I lost a key about three years ago, the key that opens my brain and let's the words come out.
Since then, I've had many emotional and mental problems. I've seen therapists, been sick many times, and have been put on medications.
I'm hoping that with this promise I've made, comes a new sound mind, a brain that accepts and grows again.
We shall see, won't we?
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