carpe diem

I wore it today, probably to make myself feel bad. Besides the obvious reasons, it makes me feel bad about not actually seizing the diem. I went to Brentwood to do homework for like four hours and told Jason that Sandy still didn't like him. That made me feel a little better.

Yesterday was one of those days where in stead of doing constructive things with my free time, my subconscious made me eat a ton of crappy food and sleep a lot. I did go out to dinner with my mom and uncle since he just turned sixty-six. That made me feel kind of shitty too. I used to live down the street from him and still live fairly close, I wonder if he's hurt by me not visiting at all. He reminds me A LOT of Barry in that he's so talented but isn't particularly motivated to use it in any way. He said his record player was on the fritz so I'd like to find one for him as a present, this is my mental note for myself. Here's another one, rent is due tomorrow.

No school for the next four days, gotta stay busy.

limbo

I really hate this time where the wound is so fresh, no matter how busy you keep yourself it doesn't really help. I want to just sit here with my own thoughts and be okay but I really can't. I know that other person cares and misses spending time with me in whatever capacity too but I trick myself into thinking she doesn't really care, and I'm not sure if that's hurting or helping...

stupid coincidences

Was in a car with Kai being asked about a certain former coworker while listening to Led Zeppelin.

sweet sorrow

I wish I could say that at any of the millions of junctures I was able to, I did the right thing. The fact of the matter is, I kept banging my head against a wall mentally beating the shit out of myself trying to bedevil a little girl into doing something she didn't want to do. I wish I could say that this was my decision, that I got tired of doing the wrong thing and interfering with your happiness. Obviously that's not what happened. I'd love it if I could just re-summon the anger I felt last week but really all I feel is, empty. Like for the past couple months I've been fighting to stay afloat in this turbulent fucking storm and today I just gave up. I've never done heroin or any other ridiculously addictive drug, but I imagine this is the appeal. It's almost funny how predictable it was, fucking stupendous highs followed immediately by subterranean lows. My favorite example. You may recall the rapture that occurred on May 21, the riders of the apocalypse came down and all of humanity was judged, It was a pretty big deal. We ended up kissing that night and the next day we worked almost the same shift together. That was one of the best shifts of my life and everybody knew it but obviously no one knew why. If I'm not mistaken by the end of that day we had resolved to never talk to one another again. I think we ended up going on a bike ride the next day. I missed your color commentary at Back to the Future night but more importantly I missed you. The cupcakes made up for it though, my brother ended up drinking a couple by the end of the night.

Out of all the crazy shit that came out of your mouth last night something has kind of stuck. I can't actually vocalize a lot of the things I text or say here. There are a couple reasons for this. One, most of it only occurs to me after I have time to think about it. Two, my brain and mouth just really don't get along all that well. I'm worried that this is actually a problem that I'll have to deal with but at the same time I think it may just be specific to you and our incredible awkwardness.

I really enjoyed talking to you, just in general I mean. Things would occur to me every now and then that I wanted to say to you or ask you about, and I'd write them down so I wouldn't forget. Even though you are no longer a peetnik, I enjoyed boring you with my mundane work stories. On Saturday the plug for the coffee urns exploded and everyone was freaking out, but somehow I was still half drunk from the night before and found everything hilarious. This was the same day Janet had to call corporate to make sure the Sencha wasn't radioactive.

It pains me greatly that I was never able to hear you gracefully pluck Tereré, or any of the others for that matter. I also failed you in your quest to master the manual transmission. For this I am sorry and must soon commit ritualistic suicide to avoid shaming my family.

This will be my final heartfelt/embarrassing paragraph. I'll miss your mischievous smile when you squint your eyes, your chipmunk cheeks, and yeah your big dumb brown eyes. Hopefully next time we run into each other you'll have forgotten this and how totally insane I am. I just realized that I've written this whole thing directly to you and have no idea if it will be read or not. Regardless I needed it out of my head. I made Affogatos for everyone in your honor today, voy a extrañarte you fucking coffee nerd you.

P.P.S Please don't laugh at me.

intoxicated

I'm completely punch-drunk and all the lights seem to be pointing in the right direction.

subconcious

i had a dream that you were going out with a friend of mine and I was listening to his monotone account of the break up wondering what I should do

thanks

I'll learn to fucking swim on my own.

Does eloquence have to get in the way of emotion or is it the other way around?
I may not have dodged the bullet entirely but at least it only nicked me, no pun intended dude.

poemic

toasted coconut and teeth marks
piercing chocolate oculi
curves rolling pin kneadable
perfume tangled kelp
rippleless rhythmic dough
convective breathless currents
dotted coffee dimpled

that's all for now...

night rider

I was coming home from nick's a couple hours ago riding up Overland. I had this really strange feeling as I came upon what I thought was my destination and I physically was unable to turn on to my street. I ended up getting lost in the hills between Westwood and Sunset for a while.

The avenues lay before me bereft of traffic
lights pulsing guiding me
my compass urging me south
fluid clicking metronome
furious movement
electrons repel
selective membrane
I'm not welcome here.

my wrists!

I want to write so badly but I don't know where to start. The Bell Jar fan does not slit their wrists in the bathtub. The Bell Jar fan is more apt to write a ridiculously self deprecating blog and shove his head in the oven. Oddly enough Plath killed herself at 4:30 AM... weird.

I had my part in fucking things up as usual. I take solace in the fact that I tried, but did I try my hardest?

Everything in Moderation

I've recently been on the, "you only live once." kick. The exactitude of this statement is almost inconsequential though. Really, you could interpret it to affirm or deny almost any choice in life. You don't want to go through life as safely as possible with millions of regrets. By the same token, you don't want to drag race on Venice at one in the morning and get t-boned by a semi. Do you eat organic chicken breast, spinach, and lentils for every meal or shove Jack in the Box, Ben & Jerry's, and donuts down your gullet? Obviously I don't have the answers to any of these questions but I will say that moderation is not always the correct answer either. Regardless of the existence of an afterlife, or reincarnation, or nothing at all, life will never be simply black and white. A lot of you would attest to my amazing inability to master the doggy paddle, but for now I'll be testing out the deep end and praying to (???) that I don't drown.

I had a dream about you this morning

It happened between my nine and ten o' clock alarms, which I think is part of the reason I had it. When I woke up at nine I had a panic attack because I forgot what day it is and what time I work. Anyway, we were sitting in some kind of antechamber to the store that obviously doesn't actually exist. You were sitting across it from me eating chicken noodle soup or something, but not eating it with a spoon. All the most annoying customers were walking through and talking to me for some reason (actually maybe this was a nightmare). Spiros came through and that guy who orders the large or medium half-caf who used to get decaf and it would never be ready so you'd have to brew it and he'd leave and come back in fifteen minutes came through, I hate that guy. I guess I would be fucking with the customers in my subversive way because every time I looked over, you had a huge shit-eating grin on your face. Also every time I looked over you were doing a different yoga pose and wearing a different uniform, but there was always something missing from your clothing that made you look odd. Weird...