I used to say death doesn't affect me
It hardly does
People die around me and I accept it
I expect to see them again
It feels like a vacation with cell phones
Can't communicate
But I know I'll see them again
Two cousins died of cancer
My grandpa, then his wife
It was exceptionally hard until a suicide
A friend was gone
And I couldn't understand why she'd done it herself
Now that has passed
And my uncle is gone
I'm not directly sad
But there's a heaviness inside of me
I don't want to cry
But I want to go to sleep
I want hugs
I want consolation
But I don't want to go to the funeral
I hate crying
I hate seeing empty shells
I don't want to see his family so sad
I might not even be able to go
I don't know
I just don't know
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Monday, September 28, 2009
Ahem
Dear Life,
You have sufficiently not lived up to expectations thus far. When I wanted to be normal and have friends, I got my entire school hating me because of some colossal misunderstanding and cruel joke. When I wanted to do sports, you threw me a bum knee. When I got over that, you gave me an unreceptive stomach. When I learned to deal with that, you brought the knee back around. With that over and done with, you ruined chocolate for me by prescribing a life long dose of migraines. When I wanted to be loved, you made me pretty. Awesome! But you forgot to include boys who actually like me. Dang it!
I find myself unsatisfied with the way things are going with us. It seems like we're going in different directions, but you're driving, so I'm stuck for the ride, staring out the windows at the things I want to, but can't, do. I'm not saying we should break up or even take a break, because what we have is special and will last a lifetime. But can't you go easy on me? Don't you know I'll never leave you? Surely you must know that in the end it will be you leaving me? And when that inevitable end comes, don't we want some good memories to look back on? To say we had a good run together? Can't we stop at a few places I'd like to see? I hope we can reconcile our differences.
Love, self
You have sufficiently not lived up to expectations thus far. When I wanted to be normal and have friends, I got my entire school hating me because of some colossal misunderstanding and cruel joke. When I wanted to do sports, you threw me a bum knee. When I got over that, you gave me an unreceptive stomach. When I learned to deal with that, you brought the knee back around. With that over and done with, you ruined chocolate for me by prescribing a life long dose of migraines. When I wanted to be loved, you made me pretty. Awesome! But you forgot to include boys who actually like me. Dang it!
I find myself unsatisfied with the way things are going with us. It seems like we're going in different directions, but you're driving, so I'm stuck for the ride, staring out the windows at the things I want to, but can't, do. I'm not saying we should break up or even take a break, because what we have is special and will last a lifetime. But can't you go easy on me? Don't you know I'll never leave you? Surely you must know that in the end it will be you leaving me? And when that inevitable end comes, don't we want some good memories to look back on? To say we had a good run together? Can't we stop at a few places I'd like to see? I hope we can reconcile our differences.
Love, self
Sunday, August 9, 2009
How it will be
One day you'll be on Instant Messenger
You'll be chatting, or browsing the internet
And you'll look over your friend list
And see me
And think about me
For a moment
Or an instant
And notice that my status is the music I am listening to
And you'll ponder that
That I am somewhere
Listening to that song
And realize you have the same song
And you'll turn on your music to that song
And listen with me
When my song changes, you'll check if you have the song
But there will be a moment
When you don't catch the song at the end
And the list plays on to the next song
And you
Caught in that new song
Will be looking at my name
And at the song I am listening to
Think that you don't have that song
And it'll strike you
That you don't like that I am somewhere
Not with you
Listening to a song
That you don't have
And that's when you'll realize you love me.
You'll be chatting, or browsing the internet
And you'll look over your friend list
And see me
And think about me
For a moment
Or an instant
And notice that my status is the music I am listening to
And you'll ponder that
That I am somewhere
Listening to that song
And realize you have the same song
And you'll turn on your music to that song
And listen with me
When my song changes, you'll check if you have the song
But there will be a moment
When you don't catch the song at the end
And the list plays on to the next song
And you
Caught in that new song
Will be looking at my name
And at the song I am listening to
Think that you don't have that song
And it'll strike you
That you don't like that I am somewhere
Not with you
Listening to a song
That you don't have
And that's when you'll realize you love me.
Saturday, August 8, 2009
Thursday, May 28, 2009
White room of torture
I get migraines. They're pretty awful, these explosions of pain. I liken them unto a non-existent torture technique that could possibly exist in the future. It goes like this.
Imagine you have been grabbed by the muscles connecting your neck to your shoulders, and thus dragged into a white room full of white and yellow lights. You are then thrown head first onto a hot metal table that begins to sear you. An injection is given to you and you are quickly paralyzed. Your captors use metal tongs to tug at the flesh and muscle on your neck and skull until they are pulled tight. And then, when you are feeling discomfort, they take a huge syringe with a needle a centimeter in diameter and they stab it into your skull. And before you can stop screaming, they inject acidic poison into your skull, where it sloshes with your brain. The burning liquid licks and rips at every morsel of soft tissue, and when you move your head it throbs and pulsates in your too-full head. Exploding seems imminent, yet it never happens.
And you go on like that until you take a pill that diffuses the pain for a few hours. But it always comes back shortly, like a revisit to the room and the needle inserted anew.
Imagine you have been grabbed by the muscles connecting your neck to your shoulders, and thus dragged into a white room full of white and yellow lights. You are then thrown head first onto a hot metal table that begins to sear you. An injection is given to you and you are quickly paralyzed. Your captors use metal tongs to tug at the flesh and muscle on your neck and skull until they are pulled tight. And then, when you are feeling discomfort, they take a huge syringe with a needle a centimeter in diameter and they stab it into your skull. And before you can stop screaming, they inject acidic poison into your skull, where it sloshes with your brain. The burning liquid licks and rips at every morsel of soft tissue, and when you move your head it throbs and pulsates in your too-full head. Exploding seems imminent, yet it never happens.
And you go on like that until you take a pill that diffuses the pain for a few hours. But it always comes back shortly, like a revisit to the room and the needle inserted anew.
Monday, February 23, 2009
Original Me II
Things I have said via email that made others laugh:
You WOULD regret it for the rest of his life. If you could sneak the packages past my ninjas, that is. My fleet of desert mirage ninjas that will descend upon your house and replace your head with your doorknob, your doorknob with the nearest cat, and send your head (in various pieces) to all of the people who dared to purchase the sacred chadderpops. And upon receiving said packages, those people will call the police, who will come and arrest them because my ninjas will have planted evidence (irrefutable evidence, mind you) that will send them all to prison. And in that prison, they will be ignored by every inmate until they are forced to seek affection from the walls and shivs. And they will send your knobby face letter laced with arsenic and that bee hormone (that attracts other bees) and you would die horribly in a bathtub as your body is swollen with bee stings, and tiny bee corpses fill the tub making a horrific scene. The police wouldn't even both to look for the arsenic that would have seeped into your blood stream. Meanwhile, the tree would be transplanted and never again seen except in super bad footage that end with the murdering of the camera holder. Which would be sold for some insane amount of money.
So I wouldn't sell those if I were you.
---
You say "Tim" and I say, "Curse his soul."
You say, "Wrong one." and I say, "My bad. Curse his name's soul."
---
Yay for hopes and dreams and Matty things!
With Kitties, and Timmy's, and a Chad that sings!
Oh yay for the forum where everyone rocks!
Now shut your mouth up and just let me talk.
---
I am also the best float-awayer. Oh, I am also the best float-awayer.
---
Don't you say I'm evil. I'll take you down to the pit where the fearmongers tear out your soul.
---
Matty, I love you more than the northern light on the frozen waves. More than the echoes of a lost child. More than the broken shells in the Mayan gardens.
---
Joe is made of the lunar eclipses of the northern tundra. His outer shell glimmers like a hesitant lightning strike, and his inner soul emits a florescent gold light that will burn YOUR SKIN OFF IF IT TOUCHES YOU.
---
My toothbrush is made of the light from a supernova! It starts out small and then explodes into a spiraling rainbow of colors that you have never seen. It then turns white and glows blindingly. It gets warm, then hot, and the heat sterilizes my teeth. Of course, the toothpaste is made out of black holes so all the tooth gunk gets sucked into the oblivion which is the 87.9Lth dimension. My teeth cleaning experience is galactic and pristine!
My OTHER toothbrush looks like a Les Paul Epiphone, special II. It's black with a sunburst and has a black guitar strap with blue lightning bolts on it so I can hang it on the wall, beside the toothpaste that is shaped like a fender amp. And when I plug my toothbrush into the toothpaste, and play the tiny guitar/brush my teeth get cleaned with music!
And my toothbrush in this time and space is blue.
---
But Cilia is made of moonbeams and giggles!! D: I want her to remain a glittery, braided stream of light!
---
In a magic kingdom that is protected by a magic dragon, with a magic spell cast on it? And a magic princess is trapped in a magic tower waiting for her magic prince to magically save her from her magical impending doom. And the magician who has magically captured her is planning a magical hostile take over of the neighboring magical kingdom (which is made up of magic unicorns). And the magic prince lives in a magic garbage can down the magic alleyway, where a magic fairy is magically fluttering down to tell him about his magical future.
---
And then I roll my eyes and suddenly glow so brightly you all go blind and I have to take care of you all forever.
---
Limey, tangy, skinny fail.
---
If I could grow a beard, and were on the male side of the species, I would grow funky beards too. And it would crazy. And fuzzy. And I would find you, Cilia, and freak you out with my crazy bearded antics.
---
How sad. Sad in a bucket. Along with lonely and boring. Although, lonely is in its own bucket.
---
LIKE MAGIC AND SUNSHINE AND VARIOUS OTHER AMAZING SURPRISES.
---
I am still me like the sun is still the center of our personal universe, like Sisely is the love of your straight life, Chad is the love of the 73rd dimension me, and the color orange actually just a ring behind your eye.
---
Your lies are cute and appreciated.
---
Everything is an option. Options like I could choose jellybeans when asked what I want to wear to the prom. Doesn't make it a good idea. But I can still choose it.
BTW, I want to wear a jelly bean dress to the prom and dance to Ricochet in it so the jellybeans can fly off and bounce around and hit people. It'd be amazing.
---
I was so luke warm about that song and then with that intro, it exploded in my mind. An expanse of dark purple suddenlies and deep blue misplacements. And light.
---
I will destroy you. It will involve puffer fish, eye droppers, and orange mugs. A twitchy Romanian will help me, and a beautiful blonde will disappear the evidence afterwards.
All witnesses will be subject to similar treatment, though I make no promises of Romanians or Blondes.
---
it would be like injecting straight shots of silvery, fluid into your veins and heart because when it hits your SOUL it erupts into a fountain of light.
You WOULD regret it for the rest of his life. If you could sneak the packages past my ninjas, that is. My fleet of desert mirage ninjas that will descend upon your house and replace your head with your doorknob, your doorknob with the nearest cat, and send your head (in various pieces) to all of the people who dared to purchase the sacred chadderpops. And upon receiving said packages, those people will call the police, who will come and arrest them because my ninjas will have planted evidence (irrefutable evidence, mind you) that will send them all to prison. And in that prison, they will be ignored by every inmate until they are forced to seek affection from the walls and shivs. And they will send your knobby face letter laced with arsenic and that bee hormone (that attracts other bees) and you would die horribly in a bathtub as your body is swollen with bee stings, and tiny bee corpses fill the tub making a horrific scene. The police wouldn't even both to look for the arsenic that would have seeped into your blood stream. Meanwhile, the tree would be transplanted and never again seen except in super bad footage that end with the murdering of the camera holder. Which would be sold for some insane amount of money.
So I wouldn't sell those if I were you.
---
You say "Tim" and I say, "Curse his soul."
You say, "Wrong one." and I say, "My bad. Curse his name's soul."
---
Yay for hopes and dreams and Matty things!
With Kitties, and Timmy's, and a Chad that sings!
Oh yay for the forum where everyone rocks!
Now shut your mouth up and just let me talk.
---
I am also the best float-awayer. Oh, I am also the best float-awayer.
---
Don't you say I'm evil. I'll take you down to the pit where the fearmongers tear out your soul.
---
Matty, I love you more than the northern light on the frozen waves. More than the echoes of a lost child. More than the broken shells in the Mayan gardens.
---
Joe is made of the lunar eclipses of the northern tundra. His outer shell glimmers like a hesitant lightning strike, and his inner soul emits a florescent gold light that will burn YOUR SKIN OFF IF IT TOUCHES YOU.
---
My toothbrush is made of the light from a supernova! It starts out small and then explodes into a spiraling rainbow of colors that you have never seen. It then turns white and glows blindingly. It gets warm, then hot, and the heat sterilizes my teeth. Of course, the toothpaste is made out of black holes so all the tooth gunk gets sucked into the oblivion which is the 87.9Lth dimension. My teeth cleaning experience is galactic and pristine!
My OTHER toothbrush looks like a Les Paul Epiphone, special II. It's black with a sunburst and has a black guitar strap with blue lightning bolts on it so I can hang it on the wall, beside the toothpaste that is shaped like a fender amp. And when I plug my toothbrush into the toothpaste, and play the tiny guitar/brush my teeth get cleaned with music!
And my toothbrush in this time and space is blue.
---
But Cilia is made of moonbeams and giggles!! D: I want her to remain a glittery, braided stream of light!
---
In a magic kingdom that is protected by a magic dragon, with a magic spell cast on it? And a magic princess is trapped in a magic tower waiting for her magic prince to magically save her from her magical impending doom. And the magician who has magically captured her is planning a magical hostile take over of the neighboring magical kingdom (which is made up of magic unicorns). And the magic prince lives in a magic garbage can down the magic alleyway, where a magic fairy is magically fluttering down to tell him about his magical future.
---
And then I roll my eyes and suddenly glow so brightly you all go blind and I have to take care of you all forever.
---
Limey, tangy, skinny fail.
---
If I could grow a beard, and were on the male side of the species, I would grow funky beards too. And it would crazy. And fuzzy. And I would find you, Cilia, and freak you out with my crazy bearded antics.
---
How sad. Sad in a bucket. Along with lonely and boring. Although, lonely is in its own bucket.
---
LIKE MAGIC AND SUNSHINE AND VARIOUS OTHER AMAZING SURPRISES.
---
I am still me like the sun is still the center of our personal universe, like Sisely is the love of your straight life, Chad is the love of the 73rd dimension me, and the color orange actually just a ring behind your eye.
---
Your lies are cute and appreciated.
---
Everything is an option. Options like I could choose jellybeans when asked what I want to wear to the prom. Doesn't make it a good idea. But I can still choose it.
BTW, I want to wear a jelly bean dress to the prom and dance to Ricochet in it so the jellybeans can fly off and bounce around and hit people. It'd be amazing.
---
I was so luke warm about that song and then with that intro, it exploded in my mind. An expanse of dark purple suddenlies and deep blue misplacements. And light.
---
I will destroy you. It will involve puffer fish, eye droppers, and orange mugs. A twitchy Romanian will help me, and a beautiful blonde will disappear the evidence afterwards.
All witnesses will be subject to similar treatment, though I make no promises of Romanians or Blondes.
---
it would be like injecting straight shots of silvery, fluid into your veins and heart because when it hits your SOUL it erupts into a fountain of light.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Ode to feminine way
Being a girl is awesome and rad,
Those who are not, for you I feel bad.
No one will blame us if we start to cry,
At the end of a film, should somebody die.
We sure have nice hair, so soft and so shiny
And it's almost expected for us to get whiny.
But it has it's down sides, this gender that's great,
Like waiting around to get asked on a date.
Or the times when we want to get angry and yell,
And no one believes you could send them to Hell.
It's really the worst when you get to that week,
All you want's chocolate and the future looks bleak.
And somebody somewhere has a taken a knife
And hacked at your gut--had the time of their life!!
It hurts and it kills and you want to break skulls,
And watch only romances during the lulls.
I'm not that adverse to one day being "mommy",
But surely the way to it should try to be balmy.
But whatever and ever, shut up and good bye,
I'm girl on her period and I'm hoping you die.
Those who are not, for you I feel bad.
No one will blame us if we start to cry,
At the end of a film, should somebody die.
We sure have nice hair, so soft and so shiny
And it's almost expected for us to get whiny.
But it has it's down sides, this gender that's great,
Like waiting around to get asked on a date.
Or the times when we want to get angry and yell,
And no one believes you could send them to Hell.
It's really the worst when you get to that week,
All you want's chocolate and the future looks bleak.
And somebody somewhere has a taken a knife
And hacked at your gut--had the time of their life!!
It hurts and it kills and you want to break skulls,
And watch only romances during the lulls.
I'm not that adverse to one day being "mommy",
But surely the way to it should try to be balmy.
But whatever and ever, shut up and good bye,
I'm girl on her period and I'm hoping you die.
Sunday, January 4, 2009
Every day, further away
Planes are passing over head
The road is empty
I've been sitting here all day
Memories come to tempt me
My ear's for the phone
(I am waiting)
My hands all balled up
(I am waiting)
I'm too scared to move
(I am waiting)
I'd spend my life waiting
Waiting
Waiting
On front porch just for one more
Day
With you
And to have forever again
A memory to fade away from
Just so I can fight to remember you.
The cold concrete under my feet
Just socks between them
Sun and clouds floating out of reach
I don't even look to them.
My eyes on the road
(I am waiting)
My back to the door
(I am waiting)
I will not move forward.
(I am waiting)
I'd spend my life waiting
Waiting
Waiting
On front porch just for one more
Day
With you
And to have forever again
A memory to fade away from
Just so I can fight to remember you.
I love these memories of that day,
How they sing in my head.
How they dance through my ears.
Wrapping warm arms around my heart,
Sending words to pierce my tears.
And it breaks my heart to know
That every day takes them further away from me.
The road is empty
I've been sitting here all day
Memories come to tempt me
My ear's for the phone
(I am waiting)
My hands all balled up
(I am waiting)
I'm too scared to move
(I am waiting)
I'd spend my life waiting
Waiting
Waiting
On front porch just for one more
Day
With you
And to have forever again
A memory to fade away from
Just so I can fight to remember you.
The cold concrete under my feet
Just socks between them
Sun and clouds floating out of reach
I don't even look to them.
My eyes on the road
(I am waiting)
My back to the door
(I am waiting)
I will not move forward.
(I am waiting)
I'd spend my life waiting
Waiting
Waiting
On front porch just for one more
Day
With you
And to have forever again
A memory to fade away from
Just so I can fight to remember you.
I love these memories of that day,
How they sing in my head.
How they dance through my ears.
Wrapping warm arms around my heart,
Sending words to pierce my tears.
And it breaks my heart to know
That every day takes them further away from me.
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