7.5.13

yes! I will have a glass.



colourful



collective pt3


i wouldnt even wish such a death to another creature.
mornings are like yogurt left at room temperature.
goddammit.

"i dont even realize it"
I am not one to get attached to words,  but this is a chance for release.

//////
the sky is a gradient, and i have such a sadness vibrating in my legs. i can run across the room into the vast ocean of a air, and leap to my splattering death like it is all your business. the images of my self doing this repeats often. fish are floating in my stomach. 

i can breath easier at night. my body is alone and my soul is visiting with the many dead ones that sift though the open windows. they are more alive than mine. he asked me if i was a violent person. i said i had potential, and i am more agressive now. i smell garlic everywhere, it reminds me of wood and death. the moon is not entirely full, there is still lots of time. i feel so hungry. my stomach chews on itself as it bites back. the fish are now devoured. empty once again.




6.5.13

collective pt2


this is just it. those vibrations move parts of us. i am so alone.

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"november is the longest year"



it has been tuesday every day. everyweek is a week of tuesday. there is a low sun with a frame of thick clouds that puts a spotlight on my school as if it were holy. its not though, or maybe it is. it both kills me and saves me. lately it has been killing me more. a drowning frustation pulls at my suspended heart. some one has got the strings but they are not here. i am doing this for him? am i doing this for her? i know its not for me. i should have gone away. someone else is holding my heart but it is not my chest.



it's not a steep hill, but the rock is a good size, it has enough weight to keep itself in movement. but, its not a steep hill, so it's a slow desent that eventually comes to an unenthusiastic stop. i kicked i t off the side of a dry hill this morning
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"so, i went somewhere else."
i called you to go to the david letterman show but marisa responded first so she went with me instead

have been thinkign about starting my own buisness. my mom said i would fail. she is very supportive of my dreams and ambitions.

i can t even remember half these days. they addressed the 60s

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don't leave me in the wheat field. my nails reflected the setting sun when i reached for your arm. you're face was all skin and your hair hung flat against it. i'm going to be late for christmas because of this. i followed behind your cool shadow while we walked back to the side of the road. when i got there i looked east and realised a world that i stole from for years. my dress waved like my nations flag, and i pulled my hair out of my face. twilight set around me and i realised i was standing alone.

look how wide his eyes are. they are so warm. i want to bathe in them.

there was a reflection in your exhausted eyes and i concentrated very emotionally into the deepest valleys of pupils. there were so many pencil lines that vibrated images that could be read through my hands. every dry bone in my body crumbled when you looked away from me. i was not anything when you weren't watching me. i could have died in front of you, but i am patient and i waited. you're touch was distant and shaking with violence. you held the rope and the axe. i could not imagine my body without having your eyes fixed on it. your brown eyes are as warm as the coffee you drink became so cold and bitter in this moment.

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i made two cheese sandwiches. i ate the other one for lunch while i was waiting for you. it was dark outside when you came in and sat in my chair. you closed your eyes. i sat on your lap and closed mine. i reached for my fridge and grabbed my last sandwich, and a few slices of meat and lettuce. i carried everything to the chair and i sat on your lap. i fixed up my sandwich then ate. i chewed it slowly and i leaned my head against your neck

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the temperature dropped 10 degrees since the departure. i keep smelling my stale scarf under my chin and i wish that it was your hair instead. i started to eat chocolate and ignore myself. without you everything melts over and sticks to tables

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i felt it leave my body. air from under my ribs rised up. i watched bubbles float to the surface. the water was very clear and it was just cold enough for my skin to be warm on the inside but refreshing 
on the outside. i just realised something. my friends were sitting on the cement. i was flowing through the most crisp water and i discovered something. then i remembered how the christmas lights used to glow on the basement floor while my parents untangled them to decorate the tree. it was a forest of light and heat and i lost myself many times hunting for a shadow that will make me realize i need the lights. winter is the warmest month.

//////
the moon was blue and the light made the shadows appear int he darkness
where has this come from? the sound of the creek flowing in the grass beside me.



your room is in the drafty attic. it was barely a room untill you made a nest inside and invited me over. i kept my scarf and hat on while i also wore mittens and boots over my long underwear. i felt brittle and i lifted myself over each wooden stair. the climb was steep and unbalanced. the celing was tall and a strange flourescent glow tints the peeling white paint green. it was dull. i saw my breath in front of me melt the air. it was humid and freezing in that staircase, but it led to your room. 

there was a small door between your room and the stairs that is a very important detail while i am reciting this. i got up there and i have planned the things i want to say. i feel damp against the wall and i cross my arms. you answered the door, i did not knock. you heard me walking up the stairs for like two minutes now. your tv is never on loud, so you heard my steps. the national news is the only thing you watch. it comforts you and reminds you of extended family visiting from the city. 

the ceiling is low in your room and a light butters the white walls. i climb into bed with you and you turn out hte light. now we lie against each other under the covers and the dull blue colours of the tv make me drunk as i try to figure out the images while my attention is on your eyes. you watch with little reaction, i think this is a repeat of the 6 o clock news. there is a man talking about russian media and the information i hear is 100% useless to me. 

i realized that you might be just nervous and are using the tv as a distraction. i'm not sure why this makes any sense, by the way your hand is holding my hip, i think you are more focused on me. the air in your room sits like a sunny fall morning- with a fog that settles in between the evergreens and diffuses the glow of the light. near a highway, its acctually 2 am.

collective pt1


i don't know which way to turn my head. 


the sky is a gradient, and i have such a sadness vibrating in my legs. i can run across the room into the vast ocean of a air, and leap to my splattering death like it is all your business. the images of my self doing this repeats often. fish are floating in my stomach. 



i can breath easier at night. my body is alone and my soul is visiting with the many dead ones that sift though the open windows. they are more alive than mine. he asked me if i was a violent person. i said i had potential, and i am more agressive now. i smell garlic everywhere, it reminds me of wood and death. the moon is not entirely full, there is still lots of time. i feel so hungry. my stomach chews on itself as it bites back. the fish are now devoured. empty once again


//////
i am walking, or am i swimming? the night is drowing in humidity, the breeze is dense and slick. two men smoke, a blue cloud embodies them. i walk past. street lights are glowing softly in the haze. i can see the end of the street; a blurry panorama. i hear their muffled laughing. are they laughing about me? i dont know, but they are in my past now. the smell of cigarettes lingers on my palet as i step closer to home.

//////
people are always dying without comfort. living is a waste of time, all i want is to be dead. i don't feel like moving or breathing. my skin is always crawling and anxiety up and down. my throat is always tense, always choking on painful emotions. nothing makes sense, money school, love, or family. feeling sick. feels like being 7 again. being home being miserable and warn and ignorant. in bed, looking at the soft walls illuminated by yellow light from a lamp turned on by dad. sometimes thinking twice about which side to put the circle on Bs and Ds. i still doing that. still looking at walls, turning on my own light. no one is here, no one is alive. i keep waiting for something beautiful, but nothing is. i look at the sky and i feel small and useless. i lost my soul and i never had faith. who is there to help. i cant anymore. everyone is growing up, we know too much. we all ran away and nothing has changed. were more isolated and focused on self destructive images. throwing up in my my sleep. hopefully i don't wake up tomorrow. maybe wake up as something else. i feel so fucked up

//////
GIVE YOU MONEY TO GOD!  vodka and apple slices.  indication of satisfaction.
yes i finally found this pen. it is the only good pen i have ever had. i wish my writing was better.


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wine for breakfast. some makeup will do you good. clean bedsheets will help you forget the bad dreams. clean the show off the car, and go to the market 



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Atlantic halibut is a highly sought after food fish. It is the largest flat fish in the world. Flat fish exibit a unique and distinctive


i have things to say if i knew what language to say them in

DRAGONS CAN'T GET ENOUGH OF ME.


//////

 am worthless and a waste of space. i contribute nothing to this world and i probably never will because "i am lazy and posess no ambition." i do not deserve to be happy or to be loved. i should only make money forever and never spend it and when i finally die i will have no one to give it too. no one wants to see me happy. everyone wants me to bend over backwards to make them happy. i should be alone forever, maybe best dead so i dont dissapoint anyone anymore and especially myself. i am a horrible human being. i make people miserable. no on ecares if i am here or not; they are probably happier without me. i should not have a voice, i have nothing important to say. i wish i was working now, at least if i am doing that i might have some sense of worth. i wish i could love myself and make myself see that none of this is my fault, but i would only be lieing. i wish i was asleep all the time. maybe i will starve myself to death. i dont want to waste fod on such a pointless animal. i am not happy here or anywhere. i dont see a future. i dont see next week

//////
sweetheart, you have no idea how to be a man. you've got to stare into straight into the sun, you need to cut the grass and takeout the garbage. you have to enjoy sitting in the basement on a beautiful day. you can't be afraid of the man that is the coat rack. you have to fight in bars until the glass in your eyes helps you see. you are expected to wake up schedualy regardless of how late you were up the night before. you need to be able to stomach the beer and cake you consume to satisfy your apitite untill it's numb. while you watch all your favourite shows, you remember how you were once creative (and created children) and once belived you had a future. when you were a teenager you had to choose between having dreams or growing up. you had to step out of the shade and get a tan. the flies now love you more than the birds. a man realizes that the ocean is grey through bloodshot eyes and a spinning bathroom. and, i'm sorry, you smile too much to understand

//////
we got it, we got it. 
(the steak has a bone it will give it more flavour)
my nails are thin and long;
and they tear through paper
untill it is unusable.
then, i throw it in the garbage and feel nothing.

//////
i am just eating some pasta salad andi only feel like pasta salad. pasta salad is the one thing on my mind at the moment. i bought it less than 4 minutes ago from the cafeteria. $2.20. it came with a container of salad dressing and i put the entire thing on the noodles and browning onions and carrots. there is some white cheese in there two. i hope it is white cheese. i am only the pasta salad right now, and after it's gone, i'm not sure what will become of me.

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i wish i had a mesh t shirt. if i had a mesh t shirt i would be more comfortable when i go out downtown. i would fit in with the people dancing inside. i would dance with them and i would be in the proper attire and i would not look over dressed. i would wear it with a nice pink skirt and running shoes. i wouldn't wear heels because i am there to dance. i will have too much fun dancing and going place to place. i'll have a growing group of people who want to party with me. when it's 3 in the morning, we will go into tim horton's very drunk and have coffee and a box of assorted timbits. we will find a party and we will invite ourselves. we will get high off someone else's drugs then leave shortly after. i will call a cab and i'll be hazy and cold. i'll throw up on myself when i get home. i will have ruined my clothes and my shoes; i will be pissed of for a while as i shower. i'll wake up sunday afternoon forgetting i ever had a mesh t shirt.