Tag Archives: writing

How I Have Been Different

11 Feb

– gained ten pounds & some-odd noticeable inches
– stopped wearing jewelry (have started again)
– started wearing the same thing all the time
– started avoiding eye contact
– added roughly forty gut-wrenching songs to music library
– began to sift through previous past
– memory loss
– started avoiding mirrors
– negativity
– started inactively [but noticeably] avoiding sleep
– huge grade drop; loss of comprehension and slash or concentration
– loss of writing
– gain in casual musical experience
– [ironic] decrease in tolerance for intolerance
– started to cry when well-enough immersed in any story
– loss in retention
– obsession with past
– skepticism
– idiocy slash loss of the Right Thing To Do

Angels & Airwaves

29 May

Friday morning was rushed & forgetful. No pillow. No paper. No time. Car ride.

And do you ever lay awake at night?
And do you ever tell yourself, ‘Don’t try.’?

Friday itself was comforting, but out of place, somehow. I didn’t have anything. I wasn’t brave enough to do anything. There was no frisbee.

Don’t try to let yourself down… Don’t try to let yourself down.

Friday night was just like I’d remembered it… The depression set in well enough. I was lucky to have Jim. ‘You still awake?’ No answer. Glad?

And do you ever see yourself in love?
And do you ever take a chance, my love?

Saturday morning wasn’t too tired. Breakfast. No writing. Like always.

Because you know that I will… Because you know that I will.

Saturday itself was normality and repetition. Gaining confidence. Skip. Lurch-skip, out-skip. I didn’t know where love was.

So hear this, please; and watch as your heart speeds up endlessly… And look for the stars as the sun goes down- each breath that you take has a thunderous sound…

Saturday night was bottomless black despair. Po-jazz made me glorious… Then po-jazz made me want to break things. Tree. No sleep. Journal. No sleep. Jim. No sleep. Downstairs. No sleep. Sneak. No sleep. Upstairs. No sleep. Journal. No sleep. Need you… No sleep. Then- Run.

Everything, everything’s magic.

Sunday morning was love, and all was right.

Just sit back and hold on, but hold on tight… Prepare for the best and the fastest ride. Reach out your hand and I’ll make you mine-

Sunday itself was an end to many things. Breakfast. No meeting. Bagpipes. Little arranging. Need us…

Everything, everything’s magic.

Conversation

3 Jan

‘He’s the kind of person that wouldn’t even care if he lost your friendship.’

‘That’s just because it doesn’t occur to him that it matters like that.’

‘That’s horrible; he’s such an asshole.’

‘He’s a dreamer. This sounds bad, but… He doesn’t really have friendships. Other people have friendships with him. Don’t take that the wrong way, okay?’

‘I don’t like it.’

‘I know. Neither does he, when he remembers it.’

There Are A Lot Of Things

26 Dec

I just can’t help myself sometimes. I blurt things out, and sometimes they’re to you, and I’m not talking about that; it really was a mistake. This isn’t just to you. This is to you, too; you, the reason I now compulsively hover over every link and picture to check that there isn’t more to gobble up, for you… I confused myself that this was for you, as well; you, the person I confused myself over for a few long, flavourful weeks, and I’ll just give up now.

There isn’t any more to gobble up, and I’m sewing the pieces together, and sometimes I wish there was just a bass line underneath it all, and the wish that that would not have a deeper meaning and the deep yearning need for it to have one after all are tearing me apart.

This is to you – I will not give up now – this is to you; I know you read this. I’m sorry for everything.

This is to you, though. I want it to be. I forget all about everyone else sometimes. That worries me. Am I losing them? I might need only you and that and those, but them…

I’m falling asleep. I’m falling asleep. I can’t keep my eyes open, holiday binge, weekend binge, I do this all the time, whenever I get a chance, I’m falling asleep.

I want to cry. I want you- I did it for you when she wasn’t there, I did it for you, can I take that back can you give it to me because I think I need it now, someone to take into confidence, then disappear, double comma, end sentence, you too.

You taught me lessons I didn’t want to learn, and many slash some in a way that I still feel is inappropriate slash completely irrelevant. I hope you read this and you understand it but you won’t.

I am falling asleep.

I just gobble it all up until there’s nothing left. There isn’t any more to take, take, this season, take take this season, King Arthur falling apart I want to cry.

You say beautiful. Do you really mean that? I’m not.

I say beautiful. I really mean it. You are.

This is for you, after all.

I’m sitting here and I hope you got that, what I sent you, I hope you got it, I wish you’d gotten it earlier when you read this, I wish you’d gotten it right away, I wish I could make you stay all the time we’d be alone college you said alone.

College. Sick. I feel sick. Lashing out, writing prose, room, stifling. Lashing out.

I want to, sometimes. Or it almost happens, sometimes. I never really want to. You, with the wonderful hair, you, I wonder why she broke up with you I don’t see it, you; you did something annoying, and I nearly broke.

I don’t break. I never break. Do I break?

If this were a voice, would I hear it; would I listen? I listened last time, forty minutes, just like you, I want that, please, give that to me please I need you more than I need you because I need you; for that very same reason.

I feel sick.

I don’t see them. I don’t see them or you anymore, I never see you, I won’t see anyone, I can’t see anyone. I’m more blind than you know.

I need to throw up. I need a moment of release, I need lines for control if you say so if you say so I’ll do whatever it takes. I need to categorise. I need a moment’s silence and no clicking, I need a moment’s silence under the stars, I need to yawn and be filled.

If this were a voice, I feel sick, I would listen. I say beautiful. I say forget it.

I say forget it all. College. I feel sick. Sometimes I blurt things out, but I’m sewing the pieces together as they all fall apart. I said I saw you in an outline of light, golden light centre of my being next to you church pew lying there fantasy lying there I could have kissed you. It would have been messy in only a very figurative sense of the word.

Do I break? You’ve certainly had the opportunity to test me lately. Do I break? I’m sewing the pieces together and it’s impossible to know where this is going. I feel sick. I would listen, I would listen, of course I would listen. I say forget it. Everything.

Forty minutes…

You are beautiful.

(It was too silly.)

(But it wasn’t.)

(I’d do it.)

(If.)

Thought Process Plus

7 Dec

Beep. Beep. Nggh. Beep. Beep.

Bee-beep. I’m- Bee-beep. Getting- Bee-beep. Up, would- Bee-beep. SHUT-

Bee-bee-bee-bee-bee-bee-bee-bee-bee-bee-bee-bee-bee-bee-bee-
Why-the-hell-is-this-stupid-thing-on-another-floor-ahhhh.

Okay, getting up. I told you, stupid alarm. Now… Towel? Check. No, no check. Grab it. Legs? Check. Yeah, got ’em right here.

Why are you so stupid in the morning? says brain.

Okay, got my towel and my legs. So shower time, right? Go, head for the shower. Okay, legs. Okay, towel.

It’s really more like you’re stupid at night, brain continues. I mean, you’re the one that did this. Stayed up half the night tripping on the internet. For what, Kristen?

Shut up, brain. Legs, go. Legs, why are you not going. Legs, do not carry me to couch-sleep-warm. Legs, why did you entice arms to pick up the shirt?

Ohh, says heart and nose at the same time. Brain begins to object, but heart shuts brain down, which is enough to make me fall asleep again and be satisfied. He was really bothering me.

Ears are curious. Ears do not let the matter sleep. Ears investigate, and soon report to heart and nose, which are the only of me still running.

It’s because dad’s taking a shower! report ears in a chipper tone that is way out of line for this early in the morning. I let it slide, though, because next they say is, You’re fine for a while. Heart likes that.

Nose just keeps providing chemical receptors with love.



















Shower is off, report ears. Time to get up! Clunk goes the settling of the little knob that keeps the water in. ‘Kay, really time now, say ears, gently, but firmly.

No, please, says heart. Yes, please, says brain, who has been awoken. Good job, ears.

What? Oh, yeah. Up… Up up up. Hey, I’m up! Good body. Shower! Legs, onward. Whoa. Shower. Towel. Back for towel. Now shower.

Dad’s gone. Into bathroom. Drop towel-cold. Okay, into shower please now.

Turn on shower. Eww, wet curtain.

Knock! What? “What?” No answer.

Knock! What?!-shut-up-I-got-this-far- “Yeah?”

“Mmmgfbshbblarghasbjeleddoday.”

What? Well, it sounded positive. Open the door a little. “What?”

“School is cancelled today.”

What? No it’s not, moron, I checked for snow, and there wasn’t any. “What?”

“There was a small fire next to the industrial building, and school is canc- just at CVU.”

I guess that makes sen- Wait. No school? No school! Hooray!

“Oh, okay.”

Heart makes a faint bid for a shirt or maybe biking to a different school district, Because they have school, and it’s not really fair, it says craftily.

Brain starts churning and wonders if I could finish a present or two today. We can’t waste this, it says.

But sleep.

Back – More Or Less A Placeholder

4 Dec

Inspired by a misreading of line one of stanza seven of Undue Anxiety.

When the mountains are all tucked away
Safe in some annal of my memory,
Locked in time’s grasp,
So secure that even I cannot reach them-

That is when I’ll drown in unfamiliarity.

When the trees with their autumn leaves have left me
When my eyes don’t notice the colour green I’ve always loved
When I start to pass life by-

That is when I’ll realise I made a mistake.

If I ever forget entirely,
When the windows are too fogged over…
I’ll clean a patch of glass to find
It was a mirror all along- and

That is when I’ll be too far gone.

This is why my internet turns off at eleven.

Pin The Tail

1 Nov

I come in peace, proclaiming that I will not really be blogging much for about a month. NaNoWriMo is upon us, and I shall have little enough time as it is.

I bring a hilarious picture to pacify you.

Looks like Mom and Dad’s love for each other is infectious…

Have a good month!