a special announcement brought to you on behalf of christmas

i need to try in the morning before the coffee passes my lips and stirs up the neurons that scrape across the cheesegrater that makes up my mind. my clock doesn't work and in succession every light i hit on blows off and stays that way because how many of me does it take to change a lightbulb? none apparently i don't care leave them off. inspiration inspiration little glimmers coming back little sparks of light where there havent been in quite some time but the trick is heres the trick- just try to get a grasp on those slippery little shits its not easy i tell you. and heres the thing on another subject because i cant stick with just one subject because they all melt in and out amongst one another all the time- heres the thing- i know what i want and i know what i dont. its true ive finally figured it out. i want what i dont think is possible and i dont want it when i get it. typical right? right. exactly its true and ive always known it and nothing is changing that truth that ive noticed. its always been there and i fear it always will. and yes i know i know i know its not the right way to think i need to take off the shit-colored glasses of perception so to speak as they say and let go of the mentality the blame the role i place myself into again and again right. right right right i know i know but how do i make the know into the feel into the truth? maybe its just time to shut up.

what if all the stars are just an illusion
and the truth lies somewhere between here and china
i guess we better find something else to wish on
and start digging

free rats

i can't even tell you how many people have found my blog by searching for "naked ballerina." a whole lot. and i find it strange that they seem to linger to read it even when i don't have any pictures of naked ballerinas.


(burnt down dunkin donuts)

the pieces

sometimes i am not sure what is the truth. what is my truth, as i would say if i wanted to say something like that, which i don't right now. when i am not sure what the truth is i feel like i'm regressing. but i don't even know what i mean by saying that.

my head has caught up with me it always does. i run and run and i look at school and i look at the dishes and i look at the cats and i look at the bills and i look at my friends' problems and i look at the job and the car and the men and the clothes and the money and everyone else and i don't i won't take a look at the truth because look at how busy i am.

and i don't even know what it's about because my head it churns it around and round and up and down and shreds what could potentially be the truth into little bits and pieces of nonsense that will not piece together because i don't even know where to start.

i feel that through this thing that i'm doing - this thing that i'm working towards- this fucking goal that offers the promise of something called a career- i feel like i am losing myself because i just don't have the time to catch up. and it always comes back to this, this place. and it terrifies me and what terrifies me is not that i find it terrifying it's that i find it so comfortable. and i know that this happens with me and i know it doesn't last forever and i know and i know but what i feel is not what i know and the feelings are what can be dangerous. or is it the lack of feeling- the apathy that i turn to because i am too fucking afraid to truly allow myself the fullness of feeling.

and i told myself i wouldn't go up in my head and here i am. it doesn't take much to get me there and i'm off to the races and the rest comes crumbling down and all of a sudden nothing is right and everything is too much and so much is just never enough.

my nostalgia

We look at the world once, in childhood.
The rest is memory.

From Nostos,
by Louise Gluck