damn. damn. damnit!



it cannot be this complicated.

what are the chances

thought one:
there is some sort of biker rally in town. you can hear the hum of motorcycles up and down the streets of these mountain towns. driving home this morning after dropping rory at the tracks, i had several of them behind me. as others would pass they would wave to eachother. as if to say hi. i'm a biker. i see you're a biker too. we're all looking for unity aren't we? we all want to identify with something. even if it means identifying with other people who don't want to identify themselves with anything. as i watched in the rearview for the next wave, i smiled to myself and wondered why we all couldn't wave to eachother as we pass. to say hi. i'm human. i see you're human too. a drive-by-namaste. if you will. i giggled at that last line as i typed it.

thought two:
i find it interesting to take photographs of yourself at seemingly unimportant times in your life. like when you're thinking on a lot. or you have really heavy boots. or when things are just right. today i'm thinking on a lot and i decided to snap a photo to see if i could see it in my own eyes. i can.
can you?

ooo. postsecret sunday. i almost forgot.

sometimes the weepies

say it for you.

when i get up in the morning, put the kettle on
make us some coffee, say hey to the sun
is it enough to write a song, and sing it to the birds
they'd hear just the tune, not understand my love for words

but you would hear me and know...
that i want to live this
i want to live
i want to live a simple life

i dreamed you first, but not so real
and every day since I found you, such moments we steal
like little thieves, we rub our hands
and hold our hearts between them

but will you hear me and know...
that i want to live this
i want to live
i want to live a simple life

move on, move on, time is accelerating
drive on, all night, traffic lights and one ways
move on, move on parking violations waiting
turn off the car, breathe the air, let's stay here

i'll kiss you awake, and we'll have time
to know our neighbors all by name, and every star at night
we'll weave our days together like waves, and particles of light

i want to live this
i want to live
i want to live a simple life
i want to live this
i want to live
i want to live a simple life

when you can't

think of anything else to do.
remember your purpose...


we are about ending poverty, not simply managing it. we give people fish. we teach them to fish. we tear down the walls that have been building up around the fish pond and we find out who polluted it. we fight terrorism; the terrorism inside each of us, the terrorism of corporate greed, of american consumerism or war. we are not pacifist hippies but passionate lovers who abhor passivity and violence. we spend our lives actively resisting everything that destroys life. whether that be terrorism or the war on terrorism. we try to make the world safe as long as millions live in poverty so the few can live as they wish. we believe in another way of life-the kingdom of God-which stands in opposition to the principles, powers, and rulers of this dark world.

-the irresistible revolution

jump back. jump back. rewind.

jump back. jump back. rewind. back to that part. right there. when i was new. and you weren't angry. with our simple unknowing smiles. your head tossed back. my hips around a beat. funny shoes. and wild hair. that room spun until it was empty. i didn't know anyone else was there until it was time to drive home. ink in your palm. ten numbers strung together to equal a voice on the other end. jump back. jump back. rewind. back to that part two. right there. two stools. two voices. face to face. that bar spun until it was empty. i didn't know anyone else was there until it was time to walk home. jump back. jump back. rewind. back to that part three. right there. ten digits had failed to equal a voice on the other end for too long. new year. not a new you. i saw you from across the room and swore then and there i could find your eyes in the dark. i was proud to know you in a room littered with strangers. i could feel your beats in my chest. that venue spun until it was empty. i didn't know anyone else was there until it was time to go home. you came with. and hugged me like you meant it. despite all the silence.

then it happened.

the split.

that part i'd take back.

that part that's made everything since then so muddled. like looking at something beautiful through broken glass. i'd apparently brought back a christmas package full of fear. and i opened it in my house. you stayed when no one else would have. i sat inside my unpacked suitcase. fourty nine across. four letter word for jail on the high seas. i took a polaroid of myself to see if i was still me. i'm surprised it didn't develop with the word 'liar' tattooed across my forehead.

and now i'm sitting here trying so hard to wrap my head around the two and half months since. around the last four days. and i can't. the glass is even more broken now. parts of it are ground as fine as sand by the passage of time and tears. and i wish more than anything i could take it back. not all the good, the bad, or the akward. not your laughter. just the parts where my pride had me in a chokehold. just the part where i lied. just the part where i became someone other than me while you were sleeping.

waiting is painful. forgetting is painful. but not knowing which to do is the worst kind of suffering.

the sound of your voice nearly broke me in half

i betrayed myself too.


i couldn't be more sorry.

questionsfour

smoke and mirrors
silver spoon spree
life in the shadows
of the girl she used to be
when did this start?
how?
how do you let slip?
why does his smile
flash
flash before her eyes?
why do visions of his and
the wave of his half open palm
ushering out his abuse
make her ache?
and is it sad she's still happy
or happy she's not sad?

i am mildly

obsessed with melty beads and seeing what new creations i can come up with for necklaces and the like. today's creation for your viewing pleasure:



it is most assuredly not my best work and looks a bit like a baseball diamond. but nonetheless. go mets? and for the record: i do not wear purple polo shirts by choice. oh the hazards of job-mandated-wardrobes.

mirror, mirror

on the floor. whose the most unidentifiable of them all?

sometimes she acts like she's seventeen again. like she'd do anything to herself on the outside to kill the pain on the inside. like she hasn't already learned the lesson a thousand times. that no matter what she does under the cover of night, the sun will rise bright and piercing and make it burn more in the morning.

i am

many things. but among those many things. i am. enjoying my life to the max. i am a new dress. that looks damn good. i am early morning walks. to kiss the old man who died this week. the one i waved hello to every morning on my way to work. i am a sip of budweiser in his honor.

i am gearing up: for city life. for dressing like i want to. wigs. leggings. boots with socks that stick out. homemade jewelry. seeing bands every other night. being a few blocks from you. and your dog. and your kitchen. and your bed. and your movie collection. an apartment with the cousin in the heart of oak-eezy. for dancing all night. for feeling beautiful. for pbr. and tattoos. for a job that means something to me. and making cookies to pass out to people that ask for change. for thrift store t-shirts and new and used records. for discovering. and not feeling guilty. for knowing more of You in the heart of suffering. for living and breathing and loving every minute of this life.

i just got

schooled at yo-yo by an eleven year old.

---------------------------------------

i'm making a make-shift will. not because i think i'm going to die, but because if i do i would want the people i love to have the pieces of me that i picked for them. my cousin rory and i have the uncanny ability to communicate with little or no words. after a couple of drinks the other night i started this conversation by saying "if i die, i want you to have..." she didn't really flinch, but asked me to please not die anytime soon. she promised she would keep a record of the things certain people get. recently i've been adding to the list by simply saying "so and so gets such and such." she just nods and points to her dome as if to say "got it." i figure i'll start writing it down soon though, because she has many important things to keep in that pretty little head of hers and i don't want to become a burden.

shredded

my little heart is torn up today. in tiny strips that resemble scraps of newspaper. they're littered with fragments of words. spoken and not. promises kept and broken. pieces of black and white photographs of moments burned in. sage advice. holy texts. lies. and truth. i have half a mind to put them out on the porch and let today's cool breezes carry them away. they would be of better use to someone feeling the same things than they are to me at this moment. but instead i frantically try to gather them off the livingroom floor. out from under the sofa. from atop the bookshelf. and behind my favorite dress hanging in the closet. i'd hot glue them back together. but i am out of glue sticks. and out of time. and out of hope for my present situation. tomorrow may look brighter. but today is torture.

what i like about you

.you know yourself
.you don't compromise that for anything
.you hate fast food and cigarettes
.you make me want to be a better person
.your eyes sparkle. always.
.you do thoughtful things even when you don't think i'm watching
.you make me laugh
.you make me uncomfortable
.my brains don't intimidate you
.you're cheeky as all get out
.you love your friends and you tell them so
.you don't complain. even when you could
.you let me explore your world. and your tattoos
.you play with your hair when you're thinking
.and smell mine all the time
.you keep me guessing
.but you say what you mean
.people are drawn to you
.but you pick me out of the crowd
.and you make magic happen when you touch a drum set
.or a guitar
.or a piano
.or me