2009-9-2 - 8:40 p.m. a fever a tiptoe a ducking through dark cellar doors a clumsy hustle into bed a hush--remember me

the art of losing isn't hard to master so many things seem filled with the intent to be lost that their loss is no disaster

Jumping Ship

"And let no man lose heart, and abandon a good scheme because he meets chopping seas, and cross winds at the outset, since God may be thereby driving him on a better course, and toward greater ends, than he ever dreamt of."-Thomas Guthrie

2008-01-09 - 9:06 p.m.

I felt instinctively that toilets- and also telephones- happened to be, for reasons unfathomable, the points where my destiny was liable to catch.
*We all have such fateful objects- it may be a recurrent landscape in one case, a number in another- carefully chosen by the gods to attract events of special significance to for us: here shall John always stumble; there shall Jane's heart always break.

2008-06-24 - 6:56 p.m.

Dear Friend (if I may),

I used to wonder how you had dug yourself into such a useless hole. Claiming that you didn't know how to love and that you had built your walls too high to start now. I used to think it was you being a goddamn motherfucking pussy.

I want you to know that I'm there, too. I know what you meant by caring and not caring all at the same time.

I know it's not from fear, friend, and I'm sorry I underestimated you. It seems more to me that I know everything I always dreamed of knowing and now I see the root of those desires. How they can spread and be deadly as weeds, yet lie in such shallow soil and barely stand up to swift winds.

I'm not angry with you anymore.

R

2008-09-29 - 4:58 p.m.

should you rush upon this you'd find things very different than you had expected
and falling into dark
thick
tunnels
screaming mad sirens between your ears
vibrating your heartstrings

with chords only wolves would love

i have not failed you
i have only tripped over my broken will
sewn it straight back in

2008-10-06 - 3:40 p.m.

It depends on what song is playing or if I've smoked enough pot but sometimes I feel like I'm washed over with inspiration just from the site of hard lines in industrial Redhook Brooklyn from the inside of an elevated F train subway car and I wonder if everybody feels this or if it's just me never-minding the world for an instant to slide into a gigantic ball pit, suspended on all angles by the recognition that I will, in fact, be OK.

2009-01-06 - 10:57 a.m.

i spoke to a woman, a marine, about you
i made our time a little more dramatic than it was
but she helped me
in the middle of a trashy bar in Central Islip
by telling me you were gone and to forget it

more

2009-04-02 - 11:13 a.m.

if i had a wish for my life it would be this
that i should always have something at which to gaze in wonderful appreciation
be that what it may:
a face, the stars, drastic landscape, roaring wind, gentle glassy surf, hands intertwined, fabric rippling in a breeze

more old stuff

2009-04-11 - 12:18 p.m.

IF I COULD i'd compress all the time i spent making out
in the backseat of cars
and swallow it
every time the world
hung up on me.

Last Night

I dreamt a flood

A Winter Room May Trap Me

circles, not really
it feels more like loops
...i think.
when you arrive at a similar site and it feels familiar
but here's the spark:
you do not start over again

and that is no disadvantage

I'm staying at a place with an insanely loud radiator

It reminds me of my big heart that is capable of wild, inconvenient, can't-live-without-each other love that every dreaming girl deserves.

Almost one month down, two more after that.

this is so emotional

I don't often quote song lyrics but...

this is EXACTLY how I feel:


What you did to me made me
See myself something different
Though I try to talk sense to myself
But I just won't listen

Won't you go away
Turned yourself in
You're no good at confession
Before the image that you burned me in
Tries to teach you a lesson

What you did to me made me see myself somethin' awful
A voice once stentorian is now again meek and muffled
It took me such a long time to get back up the first time you did it
I spent all I had to get it back, and now it seems I've been outbidded

My peace and quiet was stolen from me
When I was looking with calm affection
You were searching out my imperfections

What wasted unconditional love
On somebody
Who doesn't believe in the stuff

You came upon me like a hypnic jerk
When I was just about settled
And when it counts you recoil
With a cryptic word and leave a love belittled

Oh what a cold and common old way to go
I was feeding on the need for you to know me
Devastated at the rate you fell below me

What wasted unconditional love
On somebody
Who doesn't believe in the stuff

Oh, well

Hug Yourself Sometimes

This is me, putting my words out into the universe, while still attempting to maintain some sort of privacy. I know that no one reads this.

The world is so overwhelming now. The weather outside reflects the weather inside.

I feel like I can't do right by you. I want to feel like I gave it all I got and went down swinging.

In this moment, I'm really way far down

But I know that there is no where to go but up

And in this wet, muddy town

I can see some light, finally.

If I Was One to Write Reminders on My Hand

...it would say this:

-everything is beautiful
-love is beautiful
-everything rusts and crumbles
-there is love where you are not
-do not trust that it will see you through
-have your way with it
and
-know when to leave

"my feet will want to walk to where you are sleeping
but
I shall go on living."