i am sitting here listening to sad songs -

sad in their words, sad in their drums, sad in their guitars, sad in their choruses and melodies,

and i am reading sad words -

sad in their letters, sad in their tones, sad in their romanticism, sad in their definitions and desires,

and i'm thinking of sad thoughts -

you in the evening, you in the early morning, you hot and heavy, you quietly yearning, you and the creases under your eyes, you and i together secretly disguised.

and it's nice

and it hurts

and it's all mine to endure.

I have found that I'm becoming more tolerable. It seems silly to say, seeing as I expected it from everyone else, or it might even seem irrelevant to any's interest, but for me this is good . But let me clarify, that I am becoming tolerable towards people, but not a pushover. I know my limits, and can see the line very clearly here. Yet I am accepting this, because it is something I have wanted to become so desperately. No nose turned up high at the slightest mishap of someone else's personality. No love affair turned sour the moment I find a flaw. No. I am changing this, and it's coming quite naturally thanks to a little thing called age . Bless this.

May this never fade.

Suddenly, every thing from the inside of my body was on the outside, and as I sat there looking at that pile of bloody guts and bones I thought, "So this is what that feels like".

-- Personal Message.

• It's okay to drink alone.
• Vodka can be mixed with anything, including more vodka.
• In wine there is wisdom; in beer there is strength, but whiskey is the water of life.
• Drunken words are sober thoughts; listen carefully.
• If you do something really stupid, never blame it on the booze or on being drunk.
• If he/she is still ugly after seven drinks, give up.
• Beer is food. Wine accompanies food. Cocktails demand food.
• An open bar is a dangerous game. Respect it.
• Never turn down a free drink or complain about it's quality or brand.
• Always stick around for one more drink. That's when things happen.

I see the moon and the moon sees me.

• The moon sees the somebody I'd like to see.

God bless the moon and God bless me.

• God bless the somebody I'd like to see.

• opening a fresh can of coffee.
• crayons.
• fresh cut grass
• inhaling the sea.
• bookstores.
• potpourri.
• fish and lemon.
• pine trees.
• apple cider.
• freshly baked bread.
• hot sun on skin.

• I am persuaded too often.
• I am not persuaded nearly enough.
• The emotion comes in early every day.
• The motivation is always calling in sick.
• As the head honcho, I am aware of my employee's actions, but over the years of hiring new people to only be let down by what their resume claimed they could do, I am running out of pink slips.
• I will make do with what I have.

• create listography.
• force eyes to stare blankly, hands to tap against the edge of keyboard, while you're running a mile a minute with every idea you've ever wanted to write up.
• eyes wander off, hands follow.
• sigh.
• realize you can never quite get the words right, even though you are an acclaimed vessel in doing so.
• place question mark next to 'listography' on internal hard-drive.

i have lost the will to write anymore. the passion and longing for it is deep down, but my motivation is gone. i read the words of others and i barely make it half way through out of boredom and repetition. i am not sure if this is depression or if this is just growing up but my how times have changed. i don't know myself very well anymore. there was a time there where i was content in who i was deep down, where i felt most at home in this body of mine. now i'm so wrapped up in making a good impression on my physical cover that i've let the weeds get over grown in the garden. i am not blossoming, but i am certainly aging. a lot of things are still the same, though. like my love/hate with my heart and brain. we still fight on a regular basis, and the doors still get slammed shut causing every loose bolt to rattle. under neath the many layers of false bravado, my originality still lies, gett...

to all those that actually did show interest in me, to all those i did show interest in too, i am sorry.

i lost motivation, and regret ever leading you on, ignoring you, pretending you only existed when it worked for me and my tidal wave emotions.

you dodged a bullet, pals.

Isn't it funny how quickly the past becomes so prevalent to the now? How the desires of yesteryear's have found themselves quietly morphing into the realizations of missed opportunities of today? See, I was never one for emotions, and well, I still don't know how to tend to them properly, but you opened up a unknown part of me that hasn't quite closed completely. I thought I did my best in erasing you from my memory and I thought I cleared my mind of all it's persuading, but it's taken me just now to understand the fault in this seemingly well thought out plan. Have you ever turned on the t.v, and flipped past a home improvement show, and listened as the well groomed men in tight jeans pointed out the flaws that's slowly crippling the home? The carpet's outdated, the kitchen's too small, the paint it is chipping on the walls in the halls. The backyard bushes are overgrown and the patio's ...

If I can't find a man who'll laugh with me whenever I have to read or spell something with 'pp' then maybe he can be my pretend father, because my real one ran away when I was young and now I don't know how to grow up and I could really use someone to teach me these things.

• good man
• good alcohol
• good food
• good friends
• good family
• good love
• good times

and patience. lots and lots of patience.

I thought I would fear the memories of this place, but I seem to be alright with it all.

I always believed that déjà vu was more the sense of your present self walking in the same steps and experiencing the same things that has led your future self to where it is at whatever point in time it would currently be in, and as of late I am having a pile of moments where this has come into play. Perhaps I am just that much closer to my future?

That much closer to them , and that and you ?

Maybe.

Hopefully.

//For future reference, edited due to new meaning.//

..attracts me like no other color.

There is an undeniable comfort in the color black. Its warmth, its depth, and its ease in disappearing within an instant.

Staring deeply into its core, heightens its allure and I surrender to its desire to overcome my being. And just like it, behind the center of all's attention, I am gone.

But never forever.

I wish I knew what it would be like to be a cat. No knowledge of a human mind, of the suffering in the world, or understanding of the ever persuading voices blaring from the television or computer screen. Worries, feelings and thoughts of a vast variety. Seeking shelter in small, dark cubbies, to nap for eighteen hours or to wait for that perfect moment to pounce. Always begging for food for the later late night hunger, annoying the shit out of your owner by doing so, but thinking up priorities first.

I suppose it'd just be nice to have the mind of a quieter type for one night. Shutting off all human qualities.

(If this doesn't make me sound like a crazy cat lady, good (!), because I'm a dog person.)

con·cept noun \ˈkän-ˌsept\

1 : something conceived in the mind : thought, notion.

2 : an abstract or generic idea generalized from particular instances.

• Formaldehyde.
• Loving.
• Methanol.
• Sillyness.
• Menthol's.
• Seaside.
• Apostrophe.
• Phenomenal.
• November.
• Burgundy.
• Curtain.
• Autumn.
• Ribbit.
• Dawn.
• Dusk.
• Cigarette.
• Velour.
• Whiskey.
• Chartreuse.

I want to write about you, but I can't find the right words to form how I want to describe the slump of your shoulders when you walk sometimes, or the little curves of your love handles that shape out your sides, how you look so serious with your black framed glasses but also like someone I could waste a Sunday afternoon with. I like the way your skin looks, soft and perfectly shaded, the way your fingers rub the back of your head gets me heated in all the right places. It gets hard for me to not stare, I don't want to set my hopes up, but when the clock strikes a certain hour you tend to be all I can think of. I don't even know your name, that's a lie I do, but I know the color of your eyes and how they set my heart aflame. Every life I've ever put in to words has never come to a fruition, my emotions left out on the curb, same roads I always travel have never done me any good, but I can'...

mutilation at its finest is self doubt, self loathing and self hatred. what damage I or anyone else could do to my exterior, no matter how deep the wound is cut or how much blood i throw up, will amount to the damage i do daily to my interior shell. my brain and heart are polar opposites, the only thing uniting them is how fucked up they are. opposites attract, and usually create a balance and offset their kin, but when the pounding and drumming and hissy fits get together, they mend into each other and become a fucked up riot of rage and death. slowly. then from what i can imagine, all at once. here's to the future.

7/2

You are exactly the same emotions and thoughts that I've had before and all I can find myself saying is: "fuck".

"I didn't feel shame or fear, but just kind of blah, like when you're sitting there and the water's run out of the bathtub."

Badlands (1973)

“Have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves… Don’t search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the question now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer.”

— Rainer Maria Rilke

"Surely what a man does when he is taken off his guard is the best evidence for what sort of a man he is?

Surely what pops out before the man has time to put on a disguise is the truth?"

C.S Lewis , Mere Christianity (1952)

I was startled out of a love sad dream, and now I'm pacing the floors unsure of what it could all mean.

• warm toes
• the smell of beer on a cold night
• crunchy pickles at the bottom of a piled high burger
• gentle kisses on mouth's corners
• the drowsiness after a hot shower
• early episodes of The Simpsons
• black & tan's
• the sensation of being watched after a good horror movie
• falling in love with television characters
• cooking for a loved one/loved ones
• the rhythm of emotions hitting a typewriter
• a blank canvas with endless paint
• orgasms
• sleepy eyes
• the muffled vibrations of laughter while hugging
• weekend movie marathons