weather ball flashing bright:

rain or snow in sight.
..



so this, whole being alone thing... you'd think i'd be used to by now. being an only child and all. plus, the fact that it's been 9 months now...
why do I still come home & expect someone to greet me at the door?
i live alone.

my whole apartment is litered with empty iced coffee cups. try as hard as I may, I will never be able to clean up the messes I create.


my coffee from this morning is still good, right ? even if it has milk in it.. and it may or may not have been sitting out on my coffee table all day..
im.drinking.it.anyways.


I realized once again that it's very hard to seperate work from my life.
does that even make sense? MY LIFE CAN NOT BE MY JOB; my job can not be my life. I resent that my responce to everything is that: I work. I've been working. I have to work.

..
is that thunder I hear?

I adore storms. they're almost
atmospheric.
electric. maybe my powerll go out; i feel better in the dark.
nocturnal.


don't look at me. I'm jaded.


..
is that thunder I hear?

smile as the warm champange pours.

out on the lawn, well pretend we're having tons of fun- in this world were we don't belong.

...
& she said: " if you don't do this now, you'll be kicking yourself when you're 80.. which is difficult to do, and usually how you break a hip."

because this life is what you make it.
so let's do it right.

can't we streatch this moment? make it last for eternaty? id be so content, if only it would last. i could freeze frame this memory so I could remember what it feels like to laugh.

I got a new digital camera. I'm really geeked about it. it was the first thing I bought with my tax dollars. I got my last camera stolen around november; its been horrifically tragic being without the ability to capture life through a third eye. I tried to make due with the little 4 mega pixel camera on my phone, but it's just not the same. not that the cute little hot pink camera I purchesed is anything of photographic quality. but it's got fourteen megapixals and it captures unexpected moments. or ones Ill try to not soon forget. It's just funny how one picture can spark a rememberance of so many hidden memories.
part of your soul really is captured when you get your picture taken.
so smile. the memories will fade faster then the ink of this picture.


I wanted to invest in a good camera, but who am I to kid? I'd feel way too cliché.

...besides I need a computer first.

so far I'm having an incredibly good weekend. had a lazy lay-in day yesterday: ordered pizza & watched the oc. woke up this morning, luckily caught a ride to work since I had missed the bus. yet I got to work with 3 minutes to spare. & I got to serve an old friend as a table at work. plus i had an asigo bagel from panera as breakfast when i got to work, to boot. then it was still early & it slowed down, so it was time for me to go. i started walking to the bus stop, happy that the sun was peeking out of the clouds- only to figure out the no. 5 doesn't run north on Sundays. but it was ok because as I walked, I passed by a car that had seen me waiting for the bus... and they offered me a ride. a cute family going to family dinner over at their sisters. then, as if giving me a ride across town wasn't enough- they wouldn't take no as an answer when they asked if I wanted Sunday dinner. so I arrived at home, with a bag full of to go boxes. turkey, green beans, cornbread, yams, cheesey potatoes, and chicken wings; "a taste of everything. good black food." verbatium. the care package even included a little hawaiian punch& a small bottled water.
it was straight out of a movie almost.
it's nice when I get proof of the fact that there still are good people out there. moms that can't stand seeing someone elses baby walking home in the cold. sometimes humanity takss me by surprise.

so I feel sky high. floating on the clouds. &&I don't wanna cone down.

i took a walk up to the circle k, to grab nicotine. && enjoy the last of these rays. music going in one ear, random thoughts drifting out of the pen. I should do this more often. sitting outside with my iced coffee, I could hardly care that the wind is chilly when it blows.
I have no motavation to head home. maybe I'll travel these roads a bit more...
comtemplate whether I should drop off the mix cd, that's been living in my purse.

sunsets in reverse

are called sunrises.
have you watched the sky turn from royal purple, to deep ocean blue, into a tangerine sky?


it's been a long time since I've gone to bed so late & woken up so early. lately I just can't find comfort in sleep. dreamland can't take me to neverland; I need someone to teach me how to fly. faith. trust. and a little pixie dust.

I can't help but think of such odd memories at 5:30am. why is it your face keeps haunting me? reoccuring: i keep seeing you in my dreams.
I can still see the stars when I peer out of my window, but the birds have all begun to sing their morning wake-up songs. the morning news will be on soon. I really should be sleeping. besides the fact that I'll be extremely grouchy in the morning, really all this early-hour mind searching has me pondering things, that I think are better left in my deep subconscious sleep.

why is it any time someone shows slight interest in me, it gets me hooked? now don't get me wrong, there's plenty I've laughed off. or had to completely say NO to. but it's like I can't help but picture how things could be and this ends up having me think of what was in return.
but I get it. I'm usually just the fill in. the understudy. a pretty good back-up. someone to save for a rainy day...
you like me enough to have me sleepover, but I dont take priority enough to call before 11pm.
maybe if I didn't feel like such a jigsaw puzzle, I wouldn't always search for the hidden clue. is there a hidden message in these songs? or am I searching too hard? streaching too far? it just seems to me, a lot of these songs have a common theme. {what's the moral?}

it's going to have fun retaliating. but I thinkin im going to scrap edition #1: it just doesn't seem fitting anymore.

I'll just tuck it away, to que up in my personal playlist: soundtrack to my life.

" ... hope I really get to see thirty. wanna settle down; stop feeling so flirty. "



I secretly really wish I could find my old xanga. its got atleast two years worth of writing on it; back when i used to write all the time. if i remember most of its repeative, but good. thats when i first went through my angsty teen phase. cut my waist long hair, bleached it & started dying it with kool-aid. atleast 6 years ago. i feebly attempted to search for it. but maybe it's been deleted? to give room to others thoughts and pictures to accomply them.
i hope it's been deleted. I can't even remember feeling that way anymore.

the sky keeps getting lighter outside of my window. this is the point where I have to figure out if I'm past the point of no return. sleep now & be grugy or stay up, brew coffee and attempt to to something useful with the early morning light I've been gifted.
if only this headache would go away.

I have an admition: I know i've been dancing with bad influcences. but you all told me, to start playing with people my own age. I've found it incredibly dull, unless I take it to the point were my liver hates me in morning...
needless to say, I'm taking all 4 months until my birthday for pregaming...

you tell me you expect so much more. but what do you expect from twenty-one year olds? think about it. maybe I shouldve faked intellengence. I always preset the bar too high- if I had faked intellegence, then you wouldn't have known what to expect from me. i know its a total cop out, and id get bored too easily, but it'd be so much easier to go through the motions and half ass it.
I shouldn't be punished for not being as good as I was. I'm burning this candle at both ends. and for what do I have to show for it?


so please. don't let alcohol damange these braincells. I want to keep these memories. summers come early and I already have a hand full of good stories.
the boys hanging on to the back of manons car, while I drove and they rode their longboards. the first warm night of the year.
or coming home after two 13 hour days, back to back, just to get an unexpected rendez vous. drinking beers on the porch. relaxed. warm nights. carefree. too many laughs.
I'm definatly loving my porch. I made amy sit out there for a quick butt & a little sun. plus I sat there smoking while waiting for my ride the other night. just observing my surrounds. it felt like the whole neighborhood was out doing something... on sunday night, at quarter to elevin. just longboarding by. or walking the dog. or getting home from grocery shopping. normal Sunday errands. maybe I'm not the only night owl in this area.
but there I am smoking and my stomach drops. I knew it was him and I hadn't seen him in atleast two years.
--I find it alittle ironic that I wore my leather motorcycle jacket to work & they all asked were the bike was. all I could respond with was, "never even been on the back of one..." you didn't tell me that was the ride. or that'd I'd hesitantly agree. or that the brand new spare helmet would fit perfectly. no mention of how'd you'd take the highway; s-curve and all. passing everyone in sight.
I want another ride.


the sky is now the lightest shade of blue. forget me nots.
I'll start brewing the coffee.

&& this type of love isn't rational; it's physical ..

--he's got my name, tattooed on his arm. lucky charm. so, I guess it's ok. he's with me.

and it's a shame to see.
there's so many things here to remind
hidden secrets, buried deep
surpressed memories.

but it's the season of change, in the year of new. rewind. redo. this warm front brought more then just warm air; theres something strange lingering in this high heat. lurking in the shadows. spying on us. everyones out and about. atleast I'm not the only one feeling antsy to get out of these four walls. this ceiling is incredibly restricting.



"he's wants his kids and his dog. he wants his breakfast in bed. he's got his trust fund all save. not a worry in his head. he's not me or you. I want to break up the scene & see you running back to me."

who knew eatting 3 day old pizza and drinking beers alone could make me feel such triteness.
& I am running out of cigarettes fast.

there were so many things I was so sure, that were going to be said; I even was a dork and rehearsed in my head. but it all seems irrelevant now.

I never knew I'd feel so tongue tied. maybe I just have too many things in my head: cant seem to filter any of them completely.
I feel like my brains stuck on shuffle and I'm too ADHD to figure out which genres I want to communicate in. the transition has to be smooth; flawless.


i wonder, where does my neighbor leave to, at 11:32 at night? just to be back home, 17 minutes later?
what sort of errand is that? I know he's not a smoker, so it's not a quick nicotine fix. I want to know where he takes these little trips.
the new neighbors are so extremely ghetto and WT- I don't know what to do with myself. getting rides that honk 5 times at 12:30. &I swear the top room adjacent from my window, has subs in their room... their whole house sounds like a car rolling down the street, with horrible bass blowin out their speakers & their bad attempt at 'local gangsta rap': except the cars not going anywhere... except five feet from my head.

I figured out today that I have an oddly large fear of geese, espically if they are all gathered in one area. amy & I went to feed the ducks today at john ball zoo. I ended up buying old bread for a dollar from the hood-ass liquor store on the corner, to feed the ducks. we arrived, and there were about 30 some geese with a few ducks sprinkled in bewteen. have you ever seen the movie birds? it's no very funny. oh.my.god.I.hate.flocks.of.large.birds.

"did you have a bad experience with geese or something?" of course amy is like the bird whisper and has them eatting out of her hand. i have three chasing me for the piece I'm clutching.


I spent my day off rearranging my apartment. I'm so pleased with it. my bedroom looks different; it's nice. I realized however, I still had your business card tucked away in the left corner of my vanity mirror.
reoccuring.


I wish you all could see me now. life's funny that way. never really knew how much I missed you until I saw your face.


I'm rambling... my mind needs rearranging.
this is nothing I thought it'd be like.

" is this real? is this pretend? I'll take a stand until the end.
I'll get by. I will survive. "

currently eatting something called an apple pear

planning my day &over-thinking life.

I'm in such an awfully awkward mood. and this hybred fruit I'm eatting is just confusing my tastebuds. its the size of an apple, which is obviously how it receives it's first name. yet it's skin is a light orange, soft. the color the sky first starts to turn when the day suddenly starts to slip into dusk. you sink your teeth into it &the flesh is supple, juicy; not unlike a pear, which no doubt is where it recieves it's surname. but I'm instantly reminded of a peach, as sweet sticky light juices drip while trying to consume. a slight challange to do gracefully. but it's the taste the boggles my brain. As i told anna when she first made me try it:
"tastes like white grapes".

so if it were up to me, this fruit would not be named such a name. why is it that I can only think of colors when I search for descriptive words to describe the unique flavor of this fruit?
--if light champange tinted blush peach had a flavor, I imanage it tasting like this.
but that's a ridiclous idea; colors don't have a taste.

I don't know why i've been feeling this way such a paticularly odd mood..



bit implusive. so I took a trip to the thrift stores, because sometimes I find solace in the cludder. I like to meander amongst the shelves of peoples unwanted objects, and wonder what their lives were like before they ended up destined to be on these shelves. waiting for someone to come find a place for them once again. some of it's obviously been over looked. old presents or something of that nature, that the recepitant really never desired. some of it, espically with the clothes, you can tell was once loved. jeans with wallet fades in the left back pocket. or threadbare sweaters that were first choice when the weather turned cold. more have sad stories. jeans bought but never worn; they must have never fit. and someone gave up hope in trying to fit into them. how much of these nik-nak's and old dressers ended up here because their owners no longer had the room to give them a home..
I could spend hours looking at the second hand books. the ones with barely a spine left. read over and over again. why these books no longer sleep on the shelves of the owner, who got lost in their pages so many times before, i will never know. i always have to dedicate time to the old cookbooks. some with the corners of their pages still dog earred. or if youre lucky, youll pick up one where the pervious owner wrote notes in the margins. "try using light brown sugar instead." obviously some cookbooks have found their way here since they've become outdated. I could probably wall paper my whole apartment with the covers of all the "microwave magic" cookbooks I found. but amongst the 1985 good home& garden cookbooks and low sugar! high flavor! : there's the community church compiled cookbooks with the plastic bindings. those are the gold. of course I want the recipe to aunt milleys country style cornbread. i get this from my mom. since I can remember she's dragged me to every estate sale, garage sale, and thrift store she's found. I used to hate it. after an hour I'd get bored and restless, which meant my mom would get upset. but I learned to love it. the way shed take time to look in the same spot, and find treasures others carelessly over looked. espically the cookbooks, with the specialized notes. "new years eve?"- wonder if anyone actually made transparent pie & which year they enjoyed it in. copyright 1984.

I ended up spending $9.84 on the items I found. amongst these included an orange hand-painted seashell ashtray, to replace the brozen one I left him in the move. two cookbooks. "hometown favorites cookbook", the title page informs me in was published to benefit MADD. && a cookbook entitled "100% pleasure: from appetizers to desserts, the low-fat cookbook for people who love to eat" because #1. how can you turn down that title? #2 i love to eat. first recipe I turned to when I opened it up, was spicy crab cakes. I was sold. I also bought two other items. completely impluse &im not sure which I'm more excited about. the first i found right as soon as we walked in the door. a HUGE iron on design of a rainbow trout, leaping out of the water. OMFG. made by tender tees. "now anyone can paint a tee shirt". epic win. copyright 1988. the other ones a cd. never heard the band. or even reconize it. the case just jumped out at me. neon green. in blurry, hardly legibile font: raise the pressure. written on the spine. I opened up to the cover book to find this: sometime in 1996 this, what it is, I do not yet know. a collection of accumlated knowledge, ideas, memories, fact, surmise... who knows. anyway, what I once considered private, seems to be public. late the next night and I've just woken up to this most unsatisying thought... one has to be a bastard to exist in this world full of them, but then I've always had the suspicion I took myself too seriously until I found myself too serious to take. tonight is a horrible day. I have discovered the true meaning of two words: power and greed; power is in sex, also in drugs. power is the feeling when something happens in return for little effort, i.e. an assassin firing a gun or a junky shooting up, etc. the participant gets off on the execution just as much as the end result. greed comes dressed in a velvet glove, greed is not the want to possess everything, greed is simply wanting more then the person next to you. later cruelty occurs when people lose touch with the real world. in the nineties this is partly due to the fact that we are distanced from reality by a life we do not lead, therefore we are also distanced from one another. we experience the world through television and use drugs to enjoy social communication. we use machines instead of our bodies and then when our bodies fail us, machines keep us alive. when we do not feel life, we do not feel what it is to be alive. we do not feel compassion, our neighbor is invisible. when he suffers, we turn the television off or simply register a blank. existence is a bubble we feel will never burst. we can't decide how to vote because we need a new party. we've abandoned our world in favour of ourselves. we cover the ground in broken glass, then take off our shoes; we need to look again. unempolyment is the final insult to the individual, mass production was the first. our education system is wrong, it takes no note of the subtleties of human nature, it places more importance on the memory of an individual than how memorable an individual is. it does not nuture talent, but rewards those who obey and allows them entrance to an exclusive club. this is wrong. the best are wasted. this is why society is disintegrating. can't you see the spelling doesn't matter, because we are not saying anything anymore. it's called the power of silence, the right to which we lost in 1995."

needless to say I had to buy it. copyright 1996.
if not for those words alone. i haven't bothered to listen to it yet. I can't imanage the type of music that goes along with that; but nothing beats what I anticipate in my mind. i dont know how id feel if i popped it in my cd player & a cookie cutter pop band came out the speakers. the let down would be too much, so maybe I'll never listen to it. the idea that this may be the perfect cd filled with songs i feel, is too much. these songs are filled with words I already know too well. I don't need to listen to the melodies to know this...


i wonder what "visit me" sounds like to this artist; I know too well how it sounds to me.

the lightings back again but

im afraid of the thunder.

i don't understand how the weather can fluxuate so much in a weeks time span. guess I can't complain. Somehow the weather always reflects my mood..
why can't my sunshine break up these grey clouds? no more rainstorms; I fear I may drown.

I think I'm in shock. hours just seem to slip off the clock.
tick. tock.
minutes disappear fast. before you can react. Still deeper I travel: without looking back. &&I haven't got a map. -or even a plan of attack.
Or escape plan, at that.
panic attack. too lost to back track.


...i don't want these distant memories as reminders anymore.
It's starting to get old. same story line; ending left untold.
murder mystery. but with a twist.
wish i had something you couldn't resist.
-wish I had a clue at solving this...
for now: the killers left unknown.



--guess I have nothing interesting to say. yeah- same old shit. day after day. i hate my job; wish I could quit. im getting really sick of it. and i do drugs, to ease my mind & waste the time; before i wake up to go to my shitty 9 to 5. hardly feels as if I'm alive or barely living a life. so tell me it's alright, to stay up all night. if you set the bait; i might just bite.. I know this is a trap; lead me here without a map. so there's no time to recap or react. pass the zig zags. roll it up. let's get high. please don't bring me down, alright?
not tonight. so close to heaven, I wish I'd just die. cause I'm wasting my percious time, trying to hit rewind. I want to just pause- be here just because. is there a purpose?? let's do something to make this moment worth it.

I'm finding it very difficult lately being so broke. I guess what you could call this, is living "pay check to pay check".. but I hate that term. it doesn't matter if it's a slow week or extremely busy. somehow I manage to break even. stay stagnent. never getting ahead, yet somehow keeping pace. soon- however, I will wear tired. I haven't conditioned for this. I wasn't prepared for the rat race. it gets boring; constently running in place.
i slipped up. i tripped up. i fell behind.
I think the translation got lost with the time..where's my mind??
i know BETTER THEN THIS.


sometimes i take really hot showers. and I'll just sit in the tub, letting the scaulding hot water rain down on me... hoping it will rinse away some of my regrets.
this diluted body wash won't get me any cleaner. why do I bother?
I'm running out of all my essentials. conditioner. body wash. toothpaste. shampoo. things I desperatly need but can't bring myself to buy more of. - not when I'm in so much debt. so I watered them down, in an attempt to make them last a bit longer. stretch their life span. but after a while, it's just soapy water. dilluted past the point of all reconition.
and at that point, I'm left wondering what's the point anymore?
taking showers just to warm up; but when I step out- undoubtly I know I'll be left freezing more then I was before.
i guess the feeling of warmth can't last.

"give me a minute & I will change your mind.
give me a bullet; I will change your life.."


I knew you were coming. as if I could sense it.
-like how you can smell in the air that a huge storm is brewing. then, the news reached me. and it was like hearing the omipresent thunder, off in the distance; seeing the dull lighting flashing in the horizon. & now- im left waiting for the storm to approach. end this drought.


..so I'm just waiting for the day I get to see your face. i tried to think back, to how long it's been. atleast three years; if not four.
FUCK. please tell me you'll still reconize me..
in all honesty, your non-responces make me nervous.
maybe you don't want to reconnect. I'm aware, a lot of time has passed...




{i want this too much. which means, oddly enough, that I will never end up getting it.}

I can't concentrate on anything. everything sounds like white noise. the conversations distract me. as people talk right past me. i feel like I'm not even here. I feel alone. there's no where to go, in a room full of people, who stare.
but who cares? i feel awkward today.



i'm so tired. but i'm completely wired. my bodys restless. I need to sleep.
but I can't let you infect my dreams. so every night, i lie staring up at the ceiling.
look at what you've done to me. got me feeling so damn weak. I feel naive. completely decieved..

..you couldve let me know-
you were getting bored of me
instead of disappearing completely.
I wish I could remember
verbatium, what was said
instead of repeating the last scene in my head.
some nights, like night terrors
you're always there
wakes me from my sleep,
disturbs me from my dreams
-even when he's lying with me in bed..
once again I'm repeating words unsaid
..it's all that's in my head.

why are you here?

...
he must be serious about moving
he gotmy number today
took my picture to ID it
he said "to remember your face"


--I know he's not for me. cause
he thinks I went to a different school. and I bet he's not observant enough to notice purples my favorite color- even though I wear it almost everyday.. he thinks I play by the rules. plus as an added little bonus, he thinks I'm real cool. plus he pretends he doesnt care but i know he hates that im a smoker. he's aggrogant & stuck in his ways. and he never finds the time to text me, til real late at night. BUT IT MIGHT BE ALRIGHT. cause he wants me to sleep over at night and he holds me real tight, as we fall asleep. and he let's me warm my cold feet- by tangling himself up with me- cause he's always warm. and when I text him, he usually texts me right back. and he keeps it going, even if the convo lacks. and his cockyness makes me laugh. plus he seems to have his life on track. a good boy, who pretends to be bad.
maybe it's all in my head.

..he's not you.



what would you like me to say?
sometimes i like getting caught in the rain.
it's refreshing to think-
I can make a fresh start of this.
but who are you trying to trick?
you missed your line,
and aren't following the script.
when did the roles flip
and reverse?
i swear we've done this shit before
like it's rehearsed.



...maybe I just need some sleep.