Monday, November 28, 2005

I feel like most of the conversations I have are one-sided, I'm having one completely separate from the other party. Disconnected, speaking into a tin can with a string that attaches to my back. Pull it and I speak. I'm almost like a real girl, but not quite. I talk and I think the words will fill something, I think they can become. Instead they drown me, they never really leave my mouth and continue to fill me until you can see them swimming in my eyes. Cry. Speak. Listen. My ears are better tools than my tongue, but all responses come out wrong.

Sunday, November 06, 2005

i'm sick of this stagnation
tongue overflowing mercilessly 
stuck on one rotating record 
scribble life of no movement 
must make, must move 
feel the sun 
skin my knees 

got to stop feeling 
so simply + 
got to 
get back to my freedom place 
the joy + pain of nine years old 
stuck at the top of a 

[written on "broadminded mental brains" program, date unknown]

Wednesday, November 02, 2005

The sick reality is that this place is empty. I am the only person sitting outside on a beautiful day, the sky electric blue and my jacket discarded at my waist. Wind blows my skirt occasionally, revealing my bird-ape legs to the passersby on cell phones. Leaves sit on pavement next to me, a spider flies by and I'm accidentally caught in her lifeline. Still, there's no kids on the surrounding grass and the only humans are moving rapidly to their next classes, the doors of the Engineering building bang open and closed. This is the reality I have discovered: kids do not lie in the grass. We've all seen something shattering, something that makes us question life and humanity. And yes, this hugeness is introduced by an empty quad. People don't go to parks for fun? They don't use substances to completely let go of themselves? They don't like drive-in movies? They don't like getting lost? They don't consider their friends as valuable as their boyfriends? What are these people thinking?! I shouldn't be judgmental.