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08 May 2007 @ 04:32 pm
 
I dreamed you last night.
 
I dreamed that we sat next to each other and we were talking. And I took your face in my hands and I kissed you. You mouth turned up, pressed into my lips, and you took my hands and pulled back. You smiled a sad smile that reached your eyes and shook your head. I said I only wanted to thank you, please let me thank you. You smiled sadly again. And you shook your head.
 
Thank you, for not speaking. [To dream that someone is silent, suggests that you do not know how this person will react in your dream situation. There may be a sense of uneasiness]
Thank you for having a shadowed face. [To see a faceless figure or person in your dream indicates that you are still searching for your own identity and finding out who you are. Perhaps you are unsure of how to read people and their emotions. And therefore are expressing a desire to know and understand these people in a deeper level.]  
Thank you for not telling me you didn’t want to. [To dream that you or someone is mute, indicates that you are afraid to say something for fear of being criticized or judged. There may also be a situation in your waking life that has left you speechless]
 
I wish I knew you.
 
 
The headphones say: we're kissing without kissing. got it down to a fine art.
 
 
03 May 2007 @ 11:21 pm
 
I haven’t seen my hands in a few days. They’re missing. So is my tongue… and it seems I have misplaced my feet as well. The ones I have can’t be mine.
 
My hands aren’t writing what I want them to. The letters come out strange and disconnected. I can’t say what I mean or what I feel. But that’s ok. I don’t want to right now.
 
The feet I have now could be mine. They aren’t going where I want them to, but my old ones never took me anywhere worth mentioning. Maybe I can train these new feet. Maybe they can walk me away from everything.
 
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Iwoul dntwi shthi sonan yone
 
 
I'm just: contemplativecontemplative
The headphones say: blood and tears, they were here first...
 
 
30 April 2007 @ 08:56 pm
 
You know how people say "It'll be fine, everything is going to be okay"? They say that because they can't think of anything else.
 
 
 
 
 
The last time I saw my grandfather was in October, 2002. For his birthday. By that time, diabetes had taken a good portion of his left foot and he had a hard time getting around.
 
When I was little on Thanksgiving we’d sit on the sofa and watch the parade. On Christmas I’d crawl under the tree and hand him presents to give out. On Easter he’d scoop out the insides of Cadbury eggs so I could have the chocolate outside. And on every holiday I’d make place settings out of magic markers and construction paper, and I’d make sure he was on the end and that I was on his right. That way he could sneak me the best piece of turkey or ham.
 
In October, my family was still mad at me for ruining their lives. My older sister hadn’t talked to my mother except to slap an abuse charge on her. My younger sister watched TV with me in my father’s bedroom and tell me how much she loved watching this show with her father and killing me with her eyes. My father stopped looking me in the face and hugging me goodnight, for fear he’d be the next taken to the police station. My mother didn’t talk to me for a good month except to tell me no one was home and I could go take a paper bag and get some things to take back. My Meme acted as though nothing happened. My Grandma was uninformed of how fucked up the family had become.
 
I sat on the sofa after eating dinner and was playing with my cake. Grandpa was sitting in his chair, feet up, with Julio in his lap and watching TV. Mom was washing dishes with Meme and Laurel was sitting in the front room. Grandpa looked over during a commercial and asked me how school was going. I smiled at him and said it was going ok. Mom stopped washing the dishes and screamed at me to tell him the truth: that I was failing half my classes. And I started crying.
 
But Grandpa just put his hand on mine and told me it was ok. Everyone has a rough patch and that everything would work out. Then mom told me to get my shit together so she could take me home.
 
I didn’t see Grandpa again. I didn’t call him. I wasn’t invited to that year’s Thanksgiving. That year I spent it sitting on a bed eating a turkey TV dinner by myself. And on December 27, 2002 my dad told me that Grandpa had died a week earlier. Mom hadn’t told me because she didn’t want my Christmas to be ruined. A Christmas I had half spent in my room, some eating breakfast with Dad, and the rest alone while he went to a bar. I’m sure Grandpa would have liked the Summer Sausage I gave him every year, if I’d been taken along on the Christmas shopping trip. Mom thought it was funny. Summer giving Summer Sausage. Next year, I’ll give someone heat stroke.
 
 
 
 
 
I have my Grandpa’s sweater. I don’t know how I got it. I opened up my dresser one day and there it was. It’s the only sweater I remember him wearing. Usually he wore jeans and a leather cowboy hat with a stallion pin attached to it. He wore it every time we went out to eat. He kept it on all during dinner and he called almost every waiter Zeke, especially the waiter at one of the Chinese restaurants we frequented.
 
I found his hat when I moved into my Meme’s house. Sometimes I put on when I’m lonely. And I tug on his old sweater and sit in his chair with Julio in my lap. And I wonder if Grandpa just didn’t know what to say, or if it really WILL be okay and it just hasn’t happened yet.
 
 
I'm just: moodymoody
The headphones say: let's slit our wrists and burn down something beautiful
 
 
05 April 2007 @ 04:52 pm
 
if i could, i would peel my skin off in strips and tan them into bandages. so i could tie them around your scars and heal you.
 
 
The headphones say: somebody say my name so i know i'm alive
 
 
22 March 2007 @ 12:21 pm
 
i want to live inside of a train wreck. i want to sit in cars with bent frames and read books in languages i can't speak, illustrated by children.

i want people to memorize my hands and my voice but find my face unrecognizable. i want to walk down streets with gutters filled with forgotten dreams and cigarette butts and have people snicker and laugh when i pass them. i want to smile at their insecurities and make them realize i am their untouchable salvation.

i want live in a state of insanity with long unbearable bouts of sanity. i want to become so fucked up that i am living in absolute clarity.
 
 
The headphones say: your faith was strong but you needed proof
 
 
 
18 March 2007 @ 09:37 pm
 
i prefer sleeping on a couch than in a bed. on a couch there's not enough room to hold an empty space. and when there's no empty space, it's harder for me to feel alone.

harder, but still possible.
 
 
I'm just: restlessrestless
The headphones say: All shall fade...
 
 
09 March 2007 @ 03:43 pm
 
I was told you were depressed by a little bird that was severely hurt as it did not notice my window; it just flew where ever the wind blows.

As it convulsed on the pavement it whispered “I am hated.”

“You genetic flaws,” I said, “say it all. You cannot decipher reflections from reality. But neither can I.”
 





Fuck it.

There’s a streetlamp with my name written on it. The swing sets bathed in moonlight are calling to me and I have no reason to stay away.

Do you know what I used to do before I met you? I used to stay out all night and sing at the stars. I used to wait till the engines in cars died and I’d dance in the rain as it fell to the streets. I used to believe in magic and cartwheels and that the only reason it stormed at night was because it knew I needed a break.

I’ve been trading evening walks for dark theaters and I just realized how much I prefer swollen feet to popcorn.

If you’re bored just tell me. I’m anxious to know.
 
 
I'm just: blankblank
The headphones say: i had plans to die tonight, and you are directly in my way
 
 
28 February 2007 @ 09:14 am
 
when i grow up i want to be a train wreck.
 
 
The headphones say: our ears will ring from all the strings
 
 
29 January 2007 @ 07:57 pm
 
get a(n after)life.
 
 
The headphones say: out on the street at night
 
 
26 January 2007 @ 01:51 pm
 
this room could use a touch of tragedy. let me tell you my thoughts on life.
 
 
The headphones say: a scar away from falling apart