About Me

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"too much stuff, too many places, too much information, too many people, too much of things for there to be too much of, there is too much to know and i don't know where to begin but i want to try."

Monday, May 31, 2010

monday memorial

dreams of strange shopping malls and injured moms
crunch of peanut butter, cold wave of almond
afternoon with shakespeare and depp in turn,
british realm for the british tea
like the kind mark corrigan drinks while contemplating and internalizing
dreams that come and go, life that flashes and fades with a crunch
scrape brownies from the pan, wholesomeness and the recommended serving of vegetables is outdated, right
daria is me, was me, it doesn't really matter as long as i stay in bed
prospero will always be here, the cap'n won't desert me
even when my hands freeze and can only hover over the unfinished letter
when i drift back into the realm of past and future, shopping malls
the water doesn't quench quite right and i wait for the barbeque that won't happen
the morning rain hilarious in its timing, genius in its afternoon absence, tempest
i'll make myself sick with peanut butter laziness and shakespearean verse, but it'll all return tomorrow to keep me company

Sunday, May 30, 2010


he told us about the pigeon water, his grey white beard giving me something to look at other than his round belly that probably shook when he laughed, i don't know because i was either looking at his beard or his hairless head or his wizened and adventurous eyes, he talked of de-socializing and
at times i dozed too much, drifted too far, and had to look at the trees or feign agitation at the sun in my eyes, turn my head away from wind that wasn't quite there
it wasn't the old man's fault
the entire weekend was like this, i'm always like this,
i seem to love spending time with people i hate
i thought i had a low tolerance for bullshit, it turns out it's actually quite high
it grows as i step on campus again, hi hey hug, to all the nobodies and then it slowly dwindles as i remember, as i stare
i doze, drift, look at trees
i used spite as my fuel, my oxygen, my reason for being
yes, there were the blankets and the photos and the punch and the twizzlers and the non-nobodies, but it all seemed like background noise to the scream of some injustice
some harboring in my soul that leered at the smiling families and the summery dresses
i don't try to be like this, i'm just always like this
but like i said, it all gets louder when i go back to good ole
the memories taunt me, and the old days laugh at the situations we're in now, mock how close we all were once, how distant we all were once, it's cruel, the way the past throws itself back in my face without a warning
throwing, and i freeze
the sun, instead of warming, paralyzed, and no matter how hard i tried to move, i couldn't touch anyone or say anything, i froze
i dozed, drifted, looked at trees
we didn't end up going to the playground or eating ice cream or being really spectacular like we dreamed, planned
the cat and owl with their large eyes, the crutches, the orange and blue, the seven broken noses, the rogue camera, all wonderful in their own way, some moments i would never change, would never ask more of
the old man, the others
but some of the others, i swear i could die from the shrillness of the voice coming from meaningless mouths, telling me stories i've already heard, expressing opinions that are tired, circuited, some
just make me want to scream out, EL OH EL I HATE YOU ALL, i've certainly typed that into facebook, then backspaced and thought of peaceful things
this weekend, thought of peaceful things, clouds sun trees blue eyes vintage cameras that get passed around mexican food fiery hair laughs smiles balloons bells, things like that fill my drifting
once the trees were fading, and the crowd gathered, dispersed, faces fell and crying rose, i fled
so it wasn't the old man's fault, or the burgundy's, or the sandals'
blame the fucking nostalgia and unlived realities and fucking fuck,
blame myself

i really don't LOVE being pessimistic, but i seem to be really good at it. not everything was awkward and horrible, but my nostalgic mind just ran wild. i always feel weird going back. oh, high school. i miss it and i love it and i hate it. i hate people. and i hate myself for being awkward and not a great socializer. ho hum. but i have brownies baking in the oven, so all will be well soon.

Thursday, May 27, 2010

5/27/10 32 credits [sort of]

it's funny how these urges come
so sporadic, so random, so caught up in my subconscious
tomorrow i'll buy peanut butter cap'n crunch and i won't really know why
i'll tear up when thinking about a certain day or someone or event,
on some day when i'm with some person at some place
it'll come
these urges produce
a hating of my friends, a killing of my body, an emptying of a room
make golden eyes hide from the sun and hard hearts soften at the caress of a kitten
entertain the entertainment and forget the life that gave breath
i'll try my best not to sweat over the fabric and empty bowls and words that aren't arranged right and suns that don't set and rise again fast enough,
over the futile, directionless beads, the motions the body does in vain, in truth, in anything, in anyone

this is not what i had intended to write for "32 credits." maybe i'll get around to writing that tomorrow. i don't know what this nonsense is or where it came from... incoherent thoughts from the day/week, thrown together at this moment for some odd reason. work in progress, i guess lol.

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

sun hands

i woke up this morning feeling so
not good
it's been a week and my body still can't decide whether it will be sick or not
the weather taunts me and my final papers
i feel my sun hands lifting but i have to fight gravity and whisper
no not yet two weeks
looking forward to it like another birthday
not really good not really bad just more time
yes it seems as though i'm still alive
let's celebrate
not good not bad
two weeks and my hands can lift to the sky
my skin can be tan
and my sickness will be gone hopefully
but it's hard to tell
it's hard to know when the fireworks will end and when the winter coats will be thrown aside
i try to tell my body to stay awake but it wanes in the afternoon warmth
i try to read the words but they don't make sense and can't possibly compare to the great expanse of summer and life unlived and mistakes unmade
my throat is sore in the words unspoken
my body is too weak but not weak enough
the fever rises from my toes raises my arms my sun hands
but i have to fight gravity
for now
two weeks and my body will lift lift lift
it will be a cloud a particle of the sun's rays
floating into the great

exactly two weeks from today i will be done with finals and everything. this is about the weird semi-cold i'm currently struggling with AND cabin fever. obviously, right? also, i was listening to this song on repeat a little while ago. I JUST WANT SUMMER ALREADY.

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

you [5/3/10]

please get in my bed right now. no it doesn't even need to be sexual, or even personal. just be here. be close to me. i'll play you my favorite song so you can understand how lonely i've been. we'll lay together in the park and look up at the stars that aren't there. i'll tell you my secrets, not my real secrets but the secrets i'm willing to share to a select few, i'll tell you those.

i found this saved in my drafts. the only new thing i had to share today was that i burned my tongue this morning on my tea. yes, the secret's out, i will still drink hot tea even if it's 80 degrees.

Friday, May 21, 2010

i think his name is nick

he asked me for a piece of gum, he said, you wouldn't happen to have another piece of gum, would you,
i said, oh let me check, i should, even though i knew i did
i said, i do, and he said thanks and i said you're welcome
i wanted to ask him for a camel light in the same way
it was sitting on his desk, and it looked so crisp and clean and delightfully unhealthy
that was all he had, cigarettes and his phone and a copy of the book we were reading,
that was all,
he couldn't even bother with a backpack or some other less uncool bag to carry his things
so that was all he had, with his brown shiny leather boot shoes and that almost hidden tattoo on his arm and those damn cigarettes
i wanted to ask him like he asked me, you know, gum for cigarette
but it was the middle of the class, and it would have been awkward to sit for the remaining hour with a cigarette on my desk or tucked behind my ear,
i didn't want to take my own pack out because then he'd see that i still had one left

YES, short and complete. or at least more concise than i'm used to when i'm letting my mind wander. i suppose it's also because this was such a brief incident and there isn't much more to say about it. haha


i don't have anything poetic or creative to share, but i got a letter today from a friend and i'm so so so excited. i've spent the better part of tonight writing. i love shit like this. i guess i'm just posting this to let everyone know how much i love letters and gifts and anything mail-related, so if you ever want anything or want to share something with me, let me know. [email me or something?] we can exchange addresses and it'll be awesome.

Tuesday, May 18, 2010


i wait for things like the mail man and the afternoon rain in puerto rican jungle
wait for my body to catch up to my mind
like i wait for the construction workers to move down the street, or drive away in their loaded trucks completely
and wait for them the following morning, look to make sure they are actually coming
i wait for her letter
and their approval
for that guiding light to tell me where my life will go

like when i stand watching the last drops of coffee fall into the pot, when i wait for the whistle of the kettle
and wait for everything to cool so i can do it all over again
for that person to lay down next to me and instruct me in the ways of love

i began this wednesday of last week [12th] and i know there was something more i wanted to add, but i can't think of it at the moment

Sunday, May 16, 2010

or maybe not.

we were at a wedding reception and it made me believe in love again
it was like a movie, the bride was beautiful
and in reality she wasn't the most beautiful person in the room, but in everyone's rose-covered eyes she was
her dress had beads and sequins and whatever else gowns have and i was afraid my necklace would catch and snag in it all
but it didn't
we sat at a table and i awkwardly answered questions, thought of better answers just moments later, but too late to bring up
i began considering law school
we were in the middle row of the room, and i realized
it's always good to sit in the middle, you'll always be in the middle of the food line
if you sit at one end, it could be good because you could be called first
but you could also be called last and have to watch all the other greedy hungry little bitches
so sit in the middle
unless you like to take risks, you like adventure and the thrill of not knowing if you'll come out on top
it must have been a wedding playlist from someone's ipod, the newlyweds stood in the space to take their first dance and some song started playing,
but it wasn't the right one
so whoever was operating it played the next one, wasn't it either, this continued, snippets of songs i knew, some i didn't but felt i should, i heard single ladies and i thought it was a strange song for a wedding playlist, but the right song was eventually found
the bouquet toss came and single ladies was able to play in its entirety
that makes sense, i thought
later i realized i ate too much, said too little, wasn't charming enough
i was called sophisticated and beautiful, though
and i got to tell people i was going back to nyu and watch the faces light up with wonder, or stretch a bit in surprise or envy
either way i was a spectacle again and it felt nice
like my big owl jangling against my neck and chest, it felt nice

ok ok i'm back to posting on here, if only to keep the creative juices in my brain flowing a bit.

Saturday, May 15, 2010

i may stop posting here?

if it's all just going to fall on deaf ears.

Wednesday, May 5, 2010


the breathing was warm and slow
the hand lightly rested on my chin, slid onto my neck, down my throat, ever so slightly tapping my esophagus, they, the fingers, reached my collar bone and moved in a horizontal line along the length, perpendicular to the throat motion, my life suddenly became one huge erotic geometry problem
the other hand lay between my legs, but it didn't stay there, it traced the curves and arcs of my soft body,
they eventually met on each side of my face, pulling me into a silent kiss, a tingling echo dropped down my spine as spine met bed
the hand/s pleasured me for a few minutes, moaning and gentle thrusting, until we dispersed with the hands altogether and in a swift motion i was on top
in the breathing i could only seem to think about the angles, moved this way and that to make the math correct
we descended beneath the covers, ocean of waves, sines, cosines, tangents
the friction and the science of it all, heat
laughter dopplered, halls echoed, classrooms filled
at first i was just another university,
i charmed with my books and architecture
a sound outside, birds or cars or something, but the motion doesn't halt for a second
my whisper, the answering noise, not quite a moan, not a word, vowels, a culminating hiss
we met after some lecture or show or something, i don't remember, i just remember looking at the same point on stage, following the pacing, hearing brilliant words but not caring, listening to things i remembered saying once
the sun set, orange light stretched through the windows, on the floor, on us, the desks, the bed, it dimmed but nothing stopped
the darkness surprised, the work and problem solving halted, i glanced out the window at the illuminated streetlights, saw the flick of a lighter in the reflection, heard the burning, and soon began inhaling the smoke as a leg rubbed against mine, soon the two were resting atop mine so i couldn't move and i began to think about angles again, absentmindedly staring at the same spot in the empty street,
the campus had been so empty
a caress, turn and the hand held the magical piece of heaven to me, suspended, flashing fields of vision, i chose the street and flick, inhaled, hands on my hips, sliding, searching
stop it, i said, but i didn't want it to stop, the hands knew this, inhale, laughter,
i turned back to the bed, the eyes, the mouth, the hands drew me nearer and the tongue searched my clavicle, the lips tasted my shoulder
there was tasting that night, of those heinous refreshments afterward and the water drink, none of it mattered because the conversation was food enough, in those first moments and smiles i knew those hands would be on my body, i knew my mouth would trace the muscles of that chest down, down and my eyes would discover the sparse body hair, and we'd discover intricate forms and shapes and things textbooks only dream of expressing about the physical, real, imaginary worlds
dawn approaching,
variables eventually changing, no longer just another university
i thought of planes, wedges, levers, the world of symbols and letters
problems, multi-step problems, multi-answers, some without answers, some nights the hyperbolas remain suspended motionless, some nights sitting, working, breathing as one parabola
the body and i danced around equations, nothing was constant
dawn came and went,
when the shapes wouldn't leave my dreams i got up, found a shirt, and began making coffee
i walked slowly back, a mug full of black in each hand, a flat, constant line met my eyes and i smiled, sat down until X and Y values increased, sleepy eyes and sleepy lips, i hold the mug out and the hands tenderly took it as it takes everything, my body, pencils, pens, pipes, the math that morning uncomplicated

i began writing this at around 4am this morning. fell asleep, thought of a bit more when i woke up. and here i am. like all my other nonsense, i didn't intend for it to be this long. but i'm interested with where it's going and probably going to continue. yeah? let me know what you think.

Sunday, May 2, 2010

5/2/10 [because i can't/don't want to think of a title]

i never thought i'd say this but i'm over tumblr and twitter and facebook and flickr
and foursquare and shit like that
i'm tired of trying to explain my life and my feelings in words, lyrics, smileys, clever phrases
when we want the entire world on our dicks at every moment of every day, haunting every dream
i can't even enjoy a song or a cup of tea anymore without feeling the need to share the experience with friendly strangers and estranged friends
what is this
my books aren't getting read, my room is not getting cleaned, my life is not being lived, nothing is getting done
my sanity only valid in its self-destruction
i sink into the madness, the welcoming madness, and i feel okay but they whisper and say it's not right, they say i need to add them and follow them and neurotically click buttons and wear out mouse pads, scroll scroll, oh there are new items on the menu, what? who sent me a cow? yes i can harvest wheat now, join mafia wars, join this group, like this, comment on this, tweet this, reblog this, heart this, add me add me add me add me add me, ask me anything, don't sleep - your crops will wither, oh did you see this video? it's hilarious, you forgot to serve the food, look at my photos, expand expand, click i looked at all of their photos, oh i became a fan of, all of them
my head throbs with a hopelessness
futile, it dulls as if it were a beating heart stabbed by a once-friend or a once-lover
i never thought i'd say this
and admit to myself how much You have become a part of my life, you bloodsucking leech, stripping us of our humanity, naked in the streets, kneeling, praying for redemption, praying that a real god exists and that the ambitious demons within us are but shadows, are but precursors to our greater calling in life
these are just pathways to truth and nature, Man takes to the road with conquer on his mind, everything can be conquered, everything can be discovered, everything can be known
forgetting the music of life, the soft humming of our cells and particles, collision, combustion, explosion, of everything, fireworks of sacred mysteries, sparks of incohesion, in recognition, electricity of society within limbs and branches, fins and ideas, weightlessness and gravity, green things and every other color things, pure essence of heat and wind and water, life-giving liquid, all the life-giving liquids, all the movements and instincts of our beings
that look and that fabric, that sigh and that yawn, that light and window, that morning, that evening, that
kiss of softness and hug of strength,
everything summed up in our spiritual souls, reflected in our physical bodies
supported in our inexplicable machines of minds, click clack of energy, toil and toil
oh god we are great, we could be great
limited in our limitlessness,
brains programmed to desire, follow, live one track,
oh but look how the mountains are shining, look how the grass sways, look how far the land reaches
reaching too far and holding too close,
we're losing the love of the land
we're losing the love of ourselves
we're losing the love
i never thought i'd say this
but love isn't everything, the connectedness and the ties and the Web,
they claim our love and our d;asdj distorted so much, they can't walk the streets freely, put on masks, prance about during the height of our natural festivities
we get high off the coke and interaction and attention
and we don't care our noses are bleeding and our homes are disappearing and our relationships are crumbling
oh no but they're right there, over there, that's them, right? in that mask, or no wait, it's that one, yes that's it, no not all is lost
but we're staring at shadows and silhouettes and outlines of the lives we once had and the dreams we once pursued and the time we once took advantage of, took for granted
people wander home, to the places they call home, not really homes but they have nowhere else to go, reeking of people they don't know, people they call friends, not really friends but they have no one else to go to, thinking about things they can't focus on, seeing things in a blurred dream, they wander home and the trash piles on the streets, neglected, leftover masks get swept away and forgotten, the monsters, They have run away anyway, the masks don't matter anymore, the masks don't matter because they have taken the love, forgotten in the shouting and moaning and sounds of ecstasy, they've taken it, distorted it, mixed it into the black mess of their undercoats, put our sacred shit over their faces and run away
i never thought i'd say this
because i am us, we are him are they are it is all everything is you are me

i may hate it, but i'm a slave of this system. fuck, i'm getting tired of evvvvvverything. i just want everything to be so simple. i'm actually sort of proud of this one, it became more complex as i was writing it. but i really don't want to get into explaining it. you know how these things are. pull one thread and ruin the entire fucking shirt.

Saturday, May 1, 2010


so much to write, talk about, do,
i'm getting overwhelmed.
tired yet at the same time restless