Your echoes keep bouncing off the walls of my brain and I'm feeling sick to my heart.
Sometimes I wish you could read my brain like you can read my eyes and my words.
If my brain were a projector...
You could catch every "Oh Snap".
You could shadow play on the wall of my brain.
You could watch me like you watched Cast Away.
You didn't watch Cast Away.
You could begin to understand why I take too long to eat breakfast.
But mostly I wish my brain was a projector because then the important things wouldn't get lost in translation.
Then maybe when you see me, you would stop looking at me like I'm an intruder.
Then we could sit together and make birds and dogs and bunnies shadows with our hands.
You, me, and my brain.
Monday, February 25, 2013
Sunday, February 24, 2013
a verse or two for fear
Inside me there are lots of thoughts,
around me there are lots of people,
who walk &
talk &
gawk.
Their words are fast.
Their words cook fast.
Their words burn faster.
I keep looking over my shoulder.
Until I finally learn to master
my sweaty
palms &
feet &
brain.
Because I'm nervous.
I'm afraid.
To talk to you and to look at you and to love you.
Because there is BBQ in your belly.
And there is a pot roast in your head.
And it's cookin'.
And it's burning.
It's a pattern.
I'm scared, then I'm sweaty, then I'm hurt.
I'm
Near
The
Ledge
And
I'm
Going
To
Forge
Into
The
Uncertainty.
Because fear isn't going to control me anymore.
Tuesday, February 19, 2013
people problems
There are three types of people at Lone Peak High School (or the world)
Type 1: people who like what is popular
Type 2: people who like what they like because they like it
Type 3: people who refuse to like things because everyone else likes those things too
So before I go any further I'm just going to throw something out there.
I think my favorite singer may or may not be Rihanna today.
For today I am listening to all of Rihanna's songs and I don't even care.
I'm replaying Take A Bow and Hate That I Love You and Stay.
Today I'm going to be Type 2.
I don't even care today.
But most days I try too hard to be a Type 3 and then just end up being a Type 1 because the groups of Type 1 and 3 are almost the same... although they would never admit it.
Did you follow that?
Sorry.
Sorry for all those 'Type 1' and 'Type 2' references.
Sometimes words get in the way of what I'm trying to say.
Some things people will never understand about me.
Like what I day dream about in my study hall class instead of doing my statistics homework.
Like what I think about those moments of half consciousness right before I fall asleep.
Even though people say they get it, they never will fully understand what I was trying to say when my words came out tangled.
The scary thing is words are really all I have. Words are the total sum of all that I think and want and dream and feel. I write or whisper or blabber or blog or talk or type. And then I hope what I say has a relationship more with just than air or paper or a screen.
So I'm just going to listen to a little more Rihanna,
and be a little more Type 2,
and loll around in my thoughts for a few more hours,
until I'm tired enough to do my homework and return to real people and real life.
Type 1: people who like what is popular
Type 2: people who like what they like because they like it
Type 3: people who refuse to like things because everyone else likes those things too
So before I go any further I'm just going to throw something out there.
I think my favorite singer may or may not be Rihanna today.
For today I am listening to all of Rihanna's songs and I don't even care.
I'm replaying Take A Bow and Hate That I Love You and Stay.
Today I'm going to be Type 2.
I don't even care today.
But most days I try too hard to be a Type 3 and then just end up being a Type 1 because the groups of Type 1 and 3 are almost the same... although they would never admit it.
Did you follow that?
Sorry.
Sorry for all those 'Type 1' and 'Type 2' references.
Sometimes words get in the way of what I'm trying to say.
Some things people will never understand about me.
Like what I day dream about in my study hall class instead of doing my statistics homework.
Like what I think about those moments of half consciousness right before I fall asleep.
Even though people say they get it, they never will fully understand what I was trying to say when my words came out tangled.
The scary thing is words are really all I have. Words are the total sum of all that I think and want and dream and feel. I write or whisper or blabber or blog or talk or type. And then I hope what I say has a relationship more with just than air or paper or a screen.
So I'm just going to listen to a little more Rihanna,
and be a little more Type 2,
and loll around in my thoughts for a few more hours,
until I'm tired enough to do my homework and return to real people and real life.
Friday, February 15, 2013
everything started to hum
Every time I think about you I think about how you might be thinking about me.
It's a tempting thought.
But I wonder what you think about.
Is it me?
It's probably her...
You seem kind of deep so you probably only think of things those types of people would think about,
like:
Old Age
and Money
and Death
and Dreams
and Laughing
and Forever
and Love
and Me.
I bet you think about me.
At least once in a while.
I bet you think about me when your favorite song plays, the one you played for me over and over again and told me I should like.
I bet you think of me when you scroll through your old text messages on three day weekends and see my name.
I bet you think of me when you wake up before the world and it's empty and quite and dark and you can just think of me all you want.
I give you permission.
It's okay.
I bet you think of me when someone has my same name but spells it differently.
Do you remember how to spell my name?
I bet you think about that time when we shared this mutual nothing, according to you.
But I bet you don't know how when I met you my world started to hum.
The trees were humming when I'd walk to church.
The snow was humming when I'd watch it dwindle to the ground.
My love sick music would hum in my head hours after I'd turn it off.
I would hum in the car to no specific song.
Everything in my world started to hum.
And then everything stopped.
It's probably because you stopped thinking about me and started thinking about her.
It's probably because you forgot how funny I am.
You probably forgot how small my hands are.
You probably forgot how I hate to dance but not with you.
You probably never knew how much I liked you.
And how much I thought about you.
But I have better things to think of than you.
I'm kind of a deep person so I can think about things
like:
Old Age
It's a tempting thought.
But I wonder what you think about.
Is it me?
It's probably her...
You seem kind of deep so you probably only think of things those types of people would think about,
like:
Old Age
and Money
and Death
and Dreams
and Laughing
and Forever
and Love
and Me.
I bet you think about me.
At least once in a while.
I bet you think about me when your favorite song plays, the one you played for me over and over again and told me I should like.
I bet you think of me when you scroll through your old text messages on three day weekends and see my name.
I bet you think of me when you wake up before the world and it's empty and quite and dark and you can just think of me all you want.
I give you permission.
It's okay.
I bet you think of me when someone has my same name but spells it differently.
Do you remember how to spell my name?
I bet you think about that time when we shared this mutual nothing, according to you.
But I bet you don't know how when I met you my world started to hum.
The trees were humming when I'd walk to church.
The snow was humming when I'd watch it dwindle to the ground.
My love sick music would hum in my head hours after I'd turn it off.
I would hum in the car to no specific song.
Everything in my world started to hum.
And then everything stopped.
It's probably because you stopped thinking about me and started thinking about her.
It's probably because you forgot how funny I am.
You probably forgot how small my hands are.
You probably forgot how I hate to dance but not with you.
You probably never knew how much I liked you.
And how much I thought about you.
But I have better things to think of than you.
I'm kind of a deep person so I can think about things
like:
Old Age
and Money
and Death
and Dreams
and Laughing
and Forever
and Love
and Not You.
But sometimes when I do think about you, I wonder if you ever think about me.
I bet you think about me.
Sunday, February 10, 2013
haters
After watching one too many episodes of the lame T.V. show I'm addicted to lately I'm feeling distracted.
After cleaning my room I don't want to clean it again.
After laying in my bed listening to all my friend's favorite songs I feel like less me and more like them.
The thing about me is I wish I hated or loved more things. I'm always neutral. Either that or I'm too logical. I even have trouble deciding if I like or absolutely dread things like the rain, snow, sunshine, wind...and that's not normal. Right?
I wish I could throw around harsh opinions like 'I hate her. I hate him. I hate chocolate chip cookies. I hate fish. I hate the color red.' But I can't. Because I like chocolate chip cookies if they have enough chocolate chips in them. And I like fish but only rapped in seaweed. I like the color red, but only if it's light and paired with blue. See the issue. Me too.
So from now on...
I'm going to decide to hate some things.
Like probably the scrapping of forks on plates.
Like high school drama.
And I think I hate it when people can just hate whatever they want.
Because lots of people are haters.
Haters are like a whole species of peerless humans who are super good at deciding what to hate and sticking with it.
So I'm okay with my list of three things that I hate for now. Too bad my list of 'hates' ended on an odd number, because I hate ending things I hate on odd numbers.
After cleaning my room I don't want to clean it again.
After laying in my bed listening to all my friend's favorite songs I feel like less me and more like them.
The thing about me is I wish I hated or loved more things. I'm always neutral. Either that or I'm too logical. I even have trouble deciding if I like or absolutely dread things like the rain, snow, sunshine, wind...and that's not normal. Right?
I wish I could throw around harsh opinions like 'I hate her. I hate him. I hate chocolate chip cookies. I hate fish. I hate the color red.' But I can't. Because I like chocolate chip cookies if they have enough chocolate chips in them. And I like fish but only rapped in seaweed. I like the color red, but only if it's light and paired with blue. See the issue. Me too.
So from now on...
I'm going to decide to hate some things.
Like probably the scrapping of forks on plates.
Like high school drama.
And I think I hate it when people can just hate whatever they want.
Because lots of people are haters.
Haters are like a whole species of peerless humans who are super good at deciding what to hate and sticking with it.
So I'm okay with my list of three things that I hate for now. Too bad my list of 'hates' ended on an odd number, because I hate ending things I hate on odd numbers.
Friday, February 8, 2013
love lock down
I’m sitting on my art easel contemplating love.
I’m sitting indian style.
and I'm thinking...
I’ve never been in love. I don’t know when I will be in
love.
What I do know is that it took me way too long to define
something I’ve never experienced. But I think that’s understandable.
So here goes my best attempt at pretending to know what I’m
talking about.
I’ve collected flashes of love, from movies and parties and
weddings and this is what I’ve calculated. This is as close as I can get.
LOVE is young.
I’m sitting and drooling and remembering second grade when I
was barely old enough to paste paper hearts to my valentine’s day box but I was
old enough to hope for, want, and anticipate that special note from that
special someone.
I didn’t really care who that special someone was as long as
he brought sleeves of Oreo’s and good treats for his birthday to class.
LOVE is my Aveeno lotion.
My skin is so dry when I rub it on it just sort of
stings. A sting that reminds me of all those days I tried to ignore the dry
patches forming on the part of my elbow I could only see in the mirror. Aveeno
lotion only lasts 24 hours anyways. Those dry patches will last longer than 24
hours. Lifetime warranty.
LOVE is Ziploc.
My goldfish taste like Ziploc.
My left over pizza tastes like Ziploc.
Ziploc. Zip lock. Love lock. Love lock down.
Love contaminates ordinary life. Love pollutes logic and scratches out all
sense.
Well that about sums it up. I will probably feel differently when this so called 'love' grabs me by the feet ands swings me over the mountains of my ignorance. But for now, this is as close as I can get.
Well that about sums it up. I will probably feel differently when this so called 'love' grabs me by the feet ands swings me over the mountains of my ignorance. But for now, this is as close as I can get.
Love is for suckers.
Love is gullible.
Gullible is written on the ceiling.
Don’t look now but so is love.
Love is gullible.
Gullible is written on the ceiling.
Don’t look now but so is love.
Monday, February 4, 2013
shut up and listen
(my) existence goes a little bit like this:
mondaze
tuesdaze
wednesdaze
thursdaze
fridaze
saturdaze
sundaze
Some daze I just feel like I'm Mia Thermopolis. Like from Princess Diaries. But mainly from the one part in the movie when someone sits on her at lunch because she's invisible. I feel like that. Also I feel like her friend Lily who has a talk show and always gets stuck with some lame guy who does card tricks that no one cares about. Lily's show is called 'Shut up and listen'. I think that's kind of, sort of funny and I feel like if there could be a theme to my life it would be that. 'Shut up and listen'.
I don't want to sound snotty like "I hate everyone", although sometimes I do get annoyed with people (especially on mondaze). I also don't want to sound like "Everyone should stop talking because what I have to say is more important than your petty words." I'm actually quite the opposite, I think I could be diagnosed some sort of disease thinking no one cares what I have to say. Is that possible? I'm going to google that right now...(go to google) (type in 'disease when you think no one cares what you have to say') (and then the first thing that pops up says something with bipolar in it) (I laugh a little bit) (I really don't think I'm bipolar).
I just like the whole 'Shut up and listen', because I find it refreshing. It really is satisfying to just stop talking and listen.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Also I don't feel like I had enough big words to suffice all you who are looking for some intellectual post. Well I would consider two words in the last sentence to be adequately large so I hope all is well.
mondaze
tuesdaze
wednesdaze
thursdaze
fridaze
saturdaze
sundaze
Some daze I just feel like I'm Mia Thermopolis. Like from Princess Diaries. But mainly from the one part in the movie when someone sits on her at lunch because she's invisible. I feel like that. Also I feel like her friend Lily who has a talk show and always gets stuck with some lame guy who does card tricks that no one cares about. Lily's show is called 'Shut up and listen'. I think that's kind of, sort of funny and I feel like if there could be a theme to my life it would be that. 'Shut up and listen'.
I don't want to sound snotty like "I hate everyone", although sometimes I do get annoyed with people (especially on mondaze). I also don't want to sound like "Everyone should stop talking because what I have to say is more important than your petty words." I'm actually quite the opposite, I think I could be diagnosed some sort of disease thinking no one cares what I have to say. Is that possible? I'm going to google that right now...(go to google) (type in 'disease when you think no one cares what you have to say') (and then the first thing that pops up says something with bipolar in it) (I laugh a little bit) (I really don't think I'm bipolar).
I just like the whole 'Shut up and listen', because I find it refreshing. It really is satisfying to just stop talking and listen.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Also I don't feel like I had enough big words to suffice all you who are looking for some intellectual post. Well I would consider two words in the last sentence to be adequately large so I hope all is well.
Sunday, February 3, 2013
a cat nap proves humanity
I will prove to all of you that I am human...
So, I think it's only appropriate I prove my humanity by a nap log. Here is my reasoning...only humans can/need/want to nap and robots never rest; therefore, proving that I nap proves that I am human and proving I am human proves that I'm not a robot. I find that logical.
monday 2:45-6:07
tuesday 3:07-4:56
wednesday 3:48-5:42
thursday 4:04-6:22
friday N/A
saturday 3:12-5:56
sunday (hasn't happened yet but I'm guestimating
it's going to occur roughly between the
the hours of 2-5)
*The above log may suggest the following:
#1 I have no life
#2 I'm pre-diabetic
#3 I'm so humanly
So, I think it's only appropriate I prove my humanity by a nap log. Here is my reasoning...only humans can/need/want to nap and robots never rest; therefore, proving that I nap proves that I am human and proving I am human proves that I'm not a robot. I find that logical.
monday 2:45-6:07
tuesday 3:07-4:56
wednesday 3:48-5:42
thursday 4:04-6:22
friday N/A
saturday 3:12-5:56
sunday (hasn't happened yet but I'm guestimating
it's going to occur roughly between the
the hours of 2-5)
*The above log may suggest the following:
#1 I have no life
#2 I'm pre-diabetic
#3 I'm so humanly
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