May 23, 2013
i sometimes forget how much i like words.
but when i start a book that knows how to use them,
i often can’t get more than a page without writing one down.
or just writing in general.
days like this remind me of those lost moments you don’t know what to do with.
they creep up on you.
sly. in their sneak.
and before you know it, you forget yourself. forget the world.
and remember the inevitable timelessness that also can’t help its sneaking.
suddenly, you remember you love words.
the way sorrowful songs sound more real than non.
the dance of syllables that dribble on every piece of paper.
it’s cool days of warm suns.
with a cliched understanding of forgetting what you thought you knew.
lack of nostalgia.
and a sense of wander.
to what end.
i’m not quite sure.
May 17, 2013
there’s a song i really like right now.
same love. by macklemore and ryan lewis.
as i was singing along to it this evening, i realized there was a line that i didn’t quite agree with.
“i can’t change. even if i wanted to.”
but after hearing this on repeat i realized had i written the song. been able to choose what message i was sending to everyone.
i would say that even if i could change, i wouldn’t want to.
the new leading hate is on the lgbtq community.
and as i hear the argument in favor of equal rights that underlines the inability to be anything but gay. lesbian. bi. pan. fluid. trans. unlabeled. intersex. queer.
i can’t help but feel inadvertently disparaged.
we are who we are. and when it comes to matters of who we want to place ourselves next to. of who we want to love.
there is no wrong.
we shouldn’t have to say
“i can’t help it”.
and there should never be an ill-appreciation of our inherent right to choose to be who we are.
i asked someone the other day who has taken on a new religious lifestyle
if, with this change, they would still support equal rights for the lgbtq community.
they replied they weren’t there to judge someone else’s sins.
while that may be true. under no acceptable instance is it okay to compare my lovechoices to your sins.
we in this community are often told these “choices” are phases. a deviation of the correct lifestyle. an experiment. a cry for attention.
i’ve heard it.
and once even.
my distant grandparents asked if i was “a dyke” for writing a paper about lgbtq perception in the media.
(if only they could see me now.)
and while i combat this ignorant hatred with sarcasm and apathy.
these perspectives echo the massive issue our society is being faced with.
all individuals struggle to define ourselves. we search. we learn. and we come to an understanding of the person we are.
my individuality, while perhaps not completely mine in choice, is mine to define. is mine to accept. and is mine to defend.
with this significant momentum that’s building all over the states, i revel.
as we come to understand the turning of generations.
the building of acceptance.
the creation of appreciation.
we finally begin to see a light at the end of this very shallow tunnel.
as we approach this place.
the only words my banner will read are
“even if i could change. i wouldn’t want to”.
i accept who i am. i want to be nothing other than who i am.
and it’s not until we accept this reasoning behind our lovechoices.
that we’ll actually be equal.
April 18, 2013
i spent this snowy spring day doing what all of us should do from time to time.
i thought about my past mistakes.
recently. i had someone speak words to me of complete insecurity.
of anxiety. and heavy. heavy. self deprecation.
at first. as i sat there and listened. i was angry at the stupidity. the delusion. and the disappointment.
i didn’t understand how someone could exist so inaccurately.
have the inability to see reality as it stands.
as they lie about everything. in order to hide from their own self-doubt.
all the while looking at me with both such confusion and such certainty.
but as i watched the snow fall. all over my april afternoon.
i remembered that i also. have been that foolish.
i. once. let my insecurities govern my existence.
ruin my decisions.
and take away every potential possibility.
in the dead of night. unable to sleep. i let my uncertainties about the world overthrow my desires for it.
in watching the piles of snow fall, i found camaraderie.
i realized the similarities in these circumstances.
and remembered the distinct reality my mistakes brought to my life.
to this end.
my anger began to reside.
the disappointment faded into understanding.
and the snow continued to grace my spring.
April 11, 2013
yesterday. my words couldn’t get enough indignation.
my animosity at the many injustices existence has somehow collected
fueled a rather impenetrable distate for the world.
and all of these words spilled out one by one.
mostly so my own ears could hear them.
i didn’t understand how we could go on spinning, while the majority of things favored implosion.
while people resorted to bad manners and inconsideration without a second thought.
while being self-centered is the only reasonable revolution that exists.
see. this is where my mind was.
and just as quickly.
my distate faded into life’s usual mediocrity.
i worked a bit.
and watched the dogs play.
i even ate a fish sandwich with my sister.
and i was mildy confused by the stark juxtaposition when i woke up.
the hostility faded. the commonplace resumed.
and i’m left unsure of how i feel.
am i angry at the world’s exploitation?
sickened by so many people’s sense of complaisance, self-righteousness, and apathy?
but it doesn’t sit at the forefront on my mind as it did yesterday.
i don’t hate these habits as much as i did 18 hours ago.
and the point of interest. for me. is the fact that they weren’t relieved in my mind.
my thoughts of them didn’t change.
i don’t care less.
my feelings are simply less pointed.
and more accepting.
for no other reason than the day changed.
the moment faded.
and i began to think about something else.
there’s snow on the ground. and it’s april eleventh.
my birthday is tomorrow.
and i’m enjoying my coffee.
this is. for whatever reason. where my mind found itself for these hours.
the lack of consciousness behind this decision
suggests that such choice wasn’t fully mine.
which. is in itself. a completely separate topic.
April 9, 2013
i can’t really tell you why my writing hiatus happened.
or how i didn’t realize it was.
but. i’ve been thinking about it these last few days.
as i separated my cyber space selves.
and. i don’t know how i feel about my dismissing of an entire aspect of my life without even thinking about it.
really how anyone can slowly forget the small habits of their life without a second thought.
but it happens a lot more often than i think i’ve realized.
we get so caught up in the random things that fall in our laps that the more permanent parts get pushed to the side.
i. was caught up with law school searches. leaving a hostile job. playing with politics. and worrying about what my summer is going to look like.
when i write them out, they seem less time consuming than they have been.
with law school:
i’m getting slowly used to this leaving-in-3 1/2-months thing.
but it still makes me slightly nauseous when i think about it.
the air is different over there.
the trees are even different.
and yet. i’ll probably forget all of the differences after a couple months of being there.
the hostile job:
i left it. or rather. it left me. it was more or less mutual.
(i needed it and they wanted it.)
while i loved.
the customers. the people i worked with.
it was one of those places where a piece of me always felt terrible while i was there.
the atmosphere was poisonous.
and after you’ve been there for long enough, you’ll feel it slowly choking you.
but having such distinctly different feelings about a place (ya know…loving something that’s slowly eating you alive).
well. you have to be happy when it leaves your life.
but at the same time, it’s undoubtably sad.
i don’t think it’s a secret, but politics are my everything.
not so much the strategic get-me-elected
type of thing.
but more of what happens when you do.
how single individuals can completely alters the turn out of the future.
and how you can help that happen.
i don’t usually enjoy worrying about things.
and usually my worry transforms into plan upon plan of what-can-i-do-next.
that hasn’t settled in yet.
and i don’t know what i want to do next.
how i want to spend these next few months.
before law school. after that job. marinating in politics.
how do i want to carve out a few memories that i can take with me. put in a little box. and seal the past of my minneapolis life?
throughout these few months.
and hopefully there after.
April 7, 2013
as i attempted to convince myself to go to sleep.
about a minute ago.
i remembered that i write.
and i can’t seem to understand how i forgot.
for the time being:
i’m going to borrow e.e as a place holder.
and i’ll be back soon.
am was. are leaves few this. is these a or
scratchily over which of earth dragged once
-ful leaf. & were who skies clutch an of poor
how colding hereless. air theres what immense
live without every dancing. singless on-
ly a child’s eyes float silently down
more than two those that and that noing our
gone snow gone
alive and shall be:cities may overflow(am
was)assassinating whole grassblades,five
ideas can swallow a man;three words im
-prison a woman for all her now:but we’ve
such freedom such intense digestion so
much greenness only dying makes us grow
March 2, 2013
the other day, i heard the syllables: no one knows what’s going on. we’re all lost, and we’re just trying to figure out some way to exist.
and because i said them, i should be able to quote these words verbatim, but as i searched my mind this morning, i was mildly disappointed that this was not the case.
regardless. i said a phrase similar to the one above while talking to my (almost)16 year old sister.
and after the conversation, i realized how much my utterance resonated for me. i didn’t mean to have it stick in my brain. i was only trying to help ease the abundance of complication for this lovely person.
but there it stuck.
no one knows what’s going on.
including very much me.
perhaps i think more often on this reality. but after severely disagreeing with someone else’s actions. shaking my head at the immature thoughts. or something equally arrogant.
i sometimes have to remind myself that i have no idea how to distinguish up from down either.
i know many individuals. for example.
who struggle to see outside of their world.
they get so intertwined with how each of their own days is unraveling
how their own lives are reacting to their own actions
that they forget how every other person is existing.
they don’t imagine how does it feels when my heart beats.
they don’t wonder what color the trees are when another person opens their eyes.
they don’t care when someone else can smell the turning of seasons.
and while these are extremely important considerations in my mind, these individuals couldn’t care less.
while i occasionally hate this
i try to remember why i care so much about your heart beating
that other person’s sight of trees.
someone else’s sense of season smell.
i want to know these things about the world because it makes me understand my place in it more fully.
i want to connect with other people. so i understand what’s going on. so i feel less lost. so i can find my way to exist in the world.
while i might convince myself that this genuine interest in other people is centered on consideration, that reaction is only a biproduct of my true intentions.
i want to fit. i want to understand. i want to feel that sense of individual purpose that we’re all searching for.
i want to do it by knowing you.
and at what point is this approach to the world stripped of all its benevolence and exposed for its true selfishness?
i’m not sure.
we don’t know what’s going on. we’re all lost. and we’re all just trying to figure out a way to exist.
and thinking ourselves outside of this conundrum is perhaps the most foolish approach of all.
i’m not sure if i’ll be anywhere closer to seeing the world as it is by forcing myself to stand as close to it as possible.
i don’t know if narrowing your search to an inch outside of yourself will find you there either.
but if i were to vivez au point des larmes
i do know i can’t do it without you.
February 28, 2013
i’m waking up.
hoping that i’m not in the same terrible mood i’ve been in off and on for the last few days. or the last week. i lost track.
as i have been almost every moment of these last days while i watch my lactase enzymes float away into this bleak lactose intolerant future.
evidently as i write this. i’m still tired. my dreams are gracing me with thoughts of nothing but failure.
of moving so far away in so little time. but the thought of staying here in a life i’ve nearly outgrown is scarier yet.
as i attempt to find words from someone i would like more from and realize how cold it feels to be purposefully put on the back burner.
[not even accidentally.
examined. pondered. purposefully.]
at this moment and drinking my tear infused coffee, not sure that the end to this week is anywhere in sight.
the clouds haven’t stopped suffocating the sun’s existence.
i’m no most rested.
than when i closed my eyes yesternight.
i’m mentally recording.
every lovely thing that’s happening in this hopeless state of mind, so i can give them the appreciation they deserves whenever my exuberance returns.
[and for now.]
i’m going to drink more coffee.
pretend the sun in shining. and try to find the way to a better mood.
February 18, 2013
this morning, i found the words listed below amongst the scribbles of one of the few people i follow. this writer is a particular favorite of mine and the sentiment that he expressed in this poem illustrates a theme that often steals my mind.
i have read books. heard words. seen demonstrations. of the type of love that invades every aspect of ourselves.
it seeps into our bones and. for at least a portion of our moments. it resonates as the epitome of our world.
it’s intoxicating. beautiful. treacherous.
and it reminds us what it means to feel.
I’d know it.
When walking down the street,
there are no clouds, no trees, no air.
I am not breathing. My heart is not beating.
The sidewalk has no cracks, the slushy wet snow does seep through my thin shoes.
The morning birds are not singing.
Cars do not rumble by as harried men search for the bouquets at the last minute.
Woman do not see me and I do not see them.
There is no noise, light, there is no dark.
There is only you.
And you are branded with every flavor I could taste in my waking hours,
Every scent lilting along the smog littered streets
every coy glance given and received
the crisp daylight streaming through the break in the overcast sky
the beeping trucks lifting snow
the children laughing somewhere down below an open window to the world
the sharp angles of elbows and phalanges cradle this sense in a person’s chest.
None of these things exist without the context,
every sunset follows every sunrise,
chasing the world around
looking for that place
I last saw you.
The pastel skies and cold river beds.
The boat dock sides and evergreen groves.
The skyscraper lines and country dell roads.
The cafe on Main and the in front of the flowercart on Second.
The parking esplanade and the robot spaceship.
You are none of those places;
I checked. You were gone.
But here, with me, inside this lulled heart,
a mini drumbeat sounds out the syllables of your name.
Nothing’s finer than the taste of this tortured heart.
for Everything exists by this dream of you.
February 4, 2013
i was trying. for the last 18 minutes.
to describe a feeling i had a few moments ago. it was lovely. unexpected. and lived too briefly.
it reminded me of what it was to see.hear.smell.taste.feel someone’s heart.
but because everything i wrote- i deleted.
i thought i would just steal words for this one.
dive for dreams
or a slogan may topple you
(trees are their roots
and wind is wind)
trust your heart
if the seas catch fire
(and live by love
though the stars walk backward)
honour the past
but welcome the future
(and dance your death
away at the wedding)
never mind a world
with its villains or heroes
(for good likes girls
and tomorrow and the earth)
in spite of everything
which breathes and moves, since Doom
(with white longest hands
neating each crease)
will smooth entirely our minds
-before leaving my room
i turn, and (stooping
through the morning) kiss
this pillow, dear
where our heads lived and were.