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[Jan. 6th, 2010|07:33 pm] |
i was at the grocery store the other night, in aisle three to be more precise.. in aisle three the florescent lights are shining bright as day, the sign above my head clearly reads cereal, grains, ect.. and i'm comparison shopping - although i have a real mockery of a grocery list and the price of cereal isn't a legitimate issue to me. the aisle, a typical aisle, spans out from side to side creating this avenue of brightly colored boxes shelved neatly together and everything around it is this sterile white - a real compulsive's wet dream. out of the corner of my eye i imagine you're walking along the thoroughfare at the end of the aisle. beyond you is the floral section of the store and i find it fitting, you're carrying a look of worry or loss - i cant tell which. our eyes meet and your face transforms into this smile of relief that says "oh, i found you!" without you even having to open your mouth. i want to run up to you and grab your hands, and tell you not to leave, and that i'm here, but nothing comes out and then everything fades to black. when the lights come back on you're not there anymore and i'm standing alone in an empty supermarket. then i wake up.
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life feels like a shrinking fishbowl lately and (unrelated) i don't have a good feeling, i can't communicate it to anyone. it's like my mind is a full mouth. i don't know what i want exactly - and that's just fine, but i want out of whatever it is i've gotten myself into. i do know that i want some honesty, some clarity, and i want it now. then i want to keep climbing on from there.
my happiness comes in these waves and things seem to work out really well some days, then others are the sunks and i just can't communicate how badly i'm feeling, the closest thing i can relate is that it's like being under water and looking up from under a sheet of ice and i see you (anyone) and you me, but you don't realize i'm actually drowning and there's just nothing you (anyone) can do about it..
i'm going to the city next week because i just need the interaction and to get out of here. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jan. 6th, 2010|11:07 am] |
A study guide for Meg Criticos (via 2010 realizing your dreams);
Fab Five Freddie told me everybody's high
DJ's spinnin' are savin' my mind
Flash is fast, Flash is cool
Francois sez fas, Flashe' no do
And you don't stop, sure shot
Go out to the parking lot
And you get in your car and you drive real far
And you drive all night and then you see a light
And it comes right down and lands on the ground
And out comes a man from Mars
And you try to run but he's got a gun
And he shoots you dead and he eats your head
And then you're in the man from Mars
You go out at night, eatin' cars
You eat Cadillacs, Lincolns too
Mercurys and Subarus
And you don't stop, you keep on eatin' cars
Then, when there's no more cars
You go out at night and eat up bars where the people meet
Face to face, dance cheek to cheek
One to one, man to man
Dance toe to toe
Don't move to slow, 'cause the man from Mars
Is through with cars, he's eatin' bars
Yeah, wall to wall, door to door, hall to hall
He's gonna eat 'em all
Rapture, be pure
Take a tour, through the sewer
Don't strain your brain, paint a train
You'll be singin' in the rain
I said don't stop, to punk rock
Well now you see what you wanna be
Just have your party on TV
'Cause the man from Mars won't eat up bars when the TV's on
And now he's gone back up to space
Where he won't have a hassle with the human race
And you hip-hop, and you don't stop
Just blast off, sure shot
'Cause the man from Mars stopped eatin' cars and eatin' bars
And now he only eats guitars, get up!
That is all. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jan. 3rd, 2010|08:54 am] |
( HOME SWEET HOME )
we drove from hagerstown md, to rochester ny and it was snowing (go figure) then the next day i took a greyhound from rochester ny, to syracuse ny, to albany, ny. there was this weird guy with dreadlocks on the bus who overheard me saying that i would just hitchhike home from albany if i couldn't find a ride, so he sat next to me and was warning me about the perils of hitchhiking to the city (which is not at all where i was headed) and just kept talking to me about dub-step and going to clubs in new york city, and this guy he knew from england and how they call cocaine, 'charley', over there and i just kept nodding and being like "ok, cool, whatever man." i saved him in my phone as 'wacky guy from bus.' amber was cool and picked me up from albany, took me out for drinks and nachos, and i swear my stomach must have shrunk because i just couldn't eat very many nachos at all. we drove home and listened to foreign songs with whistle solos and i played some tambourines in the passenger seat. i guess what i like most about new york is that i don't spend as much time sitting around waiting for something to happen. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jan. 1st, 2010|12:45 pm] |
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i just want to go home, i feel gross, and mousey, and uncomfortable, and like dying all the time. i want to sleep in my bed, and have a shower, and have food to eat in the morning, and not rely on a bevy of people (via a friend-mocracy) to solidify some plan for a foward moving action. new years was squandered, and i guess measurable time doesn't really matter in the grand scheme, but it was not an enjoyable new years in my humble opinion, no watching the blue moon, or enthusiasum, or smiles. |
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