Wednesday, June 17, 2009

standing inthe shadows

Kid A is a spaceship landing and humans emerging as aliens, exploring Newfoundland. They touch everything, they stare at each other from the corners of their eyes. And they talk in a mystical, computerized language. They find a crying baby. They look at each other. They throw it in the air, the baby cries. They hold it upside down, the baby cries. They jump, gravity-less, the baby cries. They hide in a cave to get away from the noise. They find underground water, it is aqua green. They dive in, helmets and all. Its a beautiful sight. Everything is illuminated here, and they wonder why the baby cries. They swim, touching, giggling. They emerge, wet and slimy, and follow the light of the sun out of the cave. It leads them to a cliff, and the crying is echoing in the valley. The helmets cannot keep them safe any longer. They finally board the spaceship, and blast off. The baby giggles at the disappearing fumes.

a day in the life

Nobody realizes how difficult rolling is for an on and off smoker. But by GOD cigarettes taste delish with Red Bull. I tried explaining to Majid that I quit smoking right after I started and the pack I bought 2 months ago is still pretty full. Oh fuuuuuuck I just burned the plastic off of something. See what I mean? Definitely on and off. So yeah. And I don't approve of it for lots of other reasons too; emphysema, yellow teeth, my lover doesn't want me to. But then I get this weird paranoia where I'm just me watching me and then I have to constantly keep my fingers busy doing something or I'll die. Like just, die. For example, went fucking ocd on my room, its spotless.
I swear this is so weird.
Could this be a divine revelation from god? Cuz I swear there's an angel standing watching me roll. I gulp my red bull nervously. Yum. Caffeine, cocaine. I took the recycling out though, good girl.

Ponder ponder ponder, I just want to write one-liners, put them in a top hat and pick them out at random to form stories. Or rows of houses that bear down on me. I opened the window and it closed on me. It always does that.

The burnt plastic made a string out of itself and its whisking away in the wind.

Unfortunately; interaction in necessary.
I'm pretty sure I'm not going through a massive heartbreak or any mental diseases, I'm just unbelievably jittery and I'm not sure I want to be here right now. I actually miss home a whole fucking lot. And I just realized, father's day is Sunday AND I'M SO EXCITED TO GO HOME. Even though my father's a pretty big...ok I'm going to refrain from going into personal life because...thats nobody's business but mine. Next question.

Omg right now I'm just thinking the train I took from London to Lincoln and how magniificent magnificent magnificent this tiny world is. I'm so so thirsty, what the hell.

I picked a magnolia flower (I've decided on a magnolia tree in my future abode) and I've been meaning to take pictures with it, but I just haven't gotten around to taking pictures period. So it wilted, for obvious reasons, and died.

Monday, June 15, 2009

wailing

Its amazing how much clarity chaos can deliver. The only thing missing is some good pot. Otherwise this would be totally awesome. I'm just lying straight-legged in bed listening to music in the dark. Did I mention I'm in the dark? Every note, every sound is that much more vivid. I can't believe how still I am. Ugh, weed would make invisible colors burst in the dark. Blast this straight-edginess.

i can't promise everything's going to be ok

'I've become a fantastic liar and a master at avoiding confrontations. I wonder if there's a God above, and whether He's laughing or crying..'

Sunday, June 14, 2009

people cry for their lost childhood in the dark.
tonight we drink to youth.

Friday, June 12, 2009

lay where you're laying.

Ignoring her mother's yells and screams, she ran towards the storm clouds. The gray/black encompasses the sky beyond her outstretched hands, and she yells happily at the powers above. The field explodes into a blaze of fresh green color.There is no repair here. There is no remorse, no lonely men with cigarette butts to talk to. There is a fantastical being present, ominous, bright and full of peace. She hugs herself as she twirls around, waiting for the baptistical rain to fall on her shining face, windmills far into the east turning faster and faster as the storm approaches. Her torn summer dress fades as the colors of nature take over.


Then she hears the rumble of the worn red truck, and her brain pops itself. The sparkle is gone, the twirling stops. She quickly looks back, no summer clouds, no windmills, no nothing. Just the average summer evening on a farm. Her father is home, and before he discovers her standing carelessly, she runs as fast as she can through the (first non-existent) corn field. She hears him yelling for her in the broken windowed house, and she keeps on running. She runs where the field connects to the forest and climbs the nearest tree. Then she quickly jumps out and hides into a bush. She recalls him having found her in a tree once, and how he had tied her to his bed with his belt and held her down with one arm while he did what he always did. Her eyes were blindfolded that time, but it didn't matter. Its not like she wanted to see what was happening anyway. Its times like these when she thought of her mother. How she would much rather prefer that yelling than this yelling.
'Come home', she whispers into the bush leaves. 'Or take me with you'.

happy cycling

sometimes-
its really good to break away from something you really want/need/deserve for the happiness of others.

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

2 t

come on if you think you can take us on.
you and whose army?

Monday, June 08, 2009

umumumumumummmmmmmmmmmmm
technical difficulties. please try again in 10,9,8,7 seconds.

Sunday, June 07, 2009

i think i could understand

i don't know what else i can do to try and keep this family together. i don't know what i can do to stop my mother from crying, to ebb my father's flowing rage, to try and work past my brother's aloofness. it is so so so so hard to try helping a helpless situation. all i can do is come back and clean the neglected...home...talk my mother out of her depression temporarily, be the little girl i was to my dad to try and make him feel better and pick my brother up from work. i don't know who he is anymore and it scares,maddens, depresses me. i know its been worse, and it can be worse, but when it hits you... that's when it feels like the absolute worst. this has never happened before. I don't know what else i can say to him, how else i can approach him to make him understand how fucking obnoxiously selfish he is. i treat him like a child, he doesn't want that, i treat him like an adult, he can't handle that. i don't know what happened, when and why he became like this and when is this all going to just stop. i don't want to hate coming home, but right now i just wish i was under the ground instead of above it.

Thursday, June 04, 2009

impulsion bites to kill our yawns

I am here, this is me, eyes half-closed staring at the monochromatic door in front of me. I am caged in. The air is hot and heavy, but the light has never shined brighter or clearer than in this tiny, monochromatic cubicle. I see everything that was and everything that may or may not be.