molly cool.

she’s a high-plains drifter, loner
baby’s a rebel
cool disposition gets ya
shows ya new level
crazy abrasive
enough to make me wanna taste it
figure out what makes it tick
so i can dig it out and break it

curiosity killed the cat
but liquor helped me build back all of the confidence stripped
intrigued by the fact
that she could fuck, shower and bounce out my house like that
left me sleepin with my doubts
ok wait I know her scheme
self-inspired detachment
keeps her cold like the breeze
she needs the heat of passion
good bedroom savvy
break your back kinda fun
wild buck turn the beats up
i’m loud when i come

and out of nowhere
she says word i’ll go there
should we leave now or do you wanna stay awhile
she says i don’t care
instantly
my jacket it on and i’m a wreck
tip with me
baby where’d you park let’s jet

yo she’s the kinda girl that doesn’t want no relationship
but damn i think she’s kinda cool
but damn just be patient kid
regular basis with sex for quite a while
puppy chased his tail, caught it
yo he wants the idol now
never should have brought it like that
cause now when i think about it and look back
i’ll never forget the way she laughed
when i asked if the only way i’ll ever get to see her is
when she’s on her back

but the first time we fucked was shakin’, wild
digital underground style
no lie no exaggeration
glad to make your acquatence
what’s your name again?
molly, good golly miss
here take my digits, please call me
she was cool like that
yo how’d you get like that
i never had a date that gave me head like that
and it was said like that
and she replied with a thank you
before you leave molly
let me kiss that tattoo on your ankle

and she was out
didn’t see her again for a week
no call
and when she see me no attempt to speak
so like a good bitch
i make the example
‘baby, how you been?’
half an hour later we in the car fuckin like old friends
turn on the dome light
to get my pants on right
travel safe, see your ass around
have a good night (bye)

that’s it no conversation,
game playin over some coffee
she’s out
moments after she pulls that body off me
(what you gonna do?)
i’m stressed, i’m stressed, i’m stressed,
i’m so confused
she doesn’t seem like the type that’s that loose
or maybe she does
realistically i don’t know her that well
but if you let me i’d follow that sexy ass to hell and back
tell her that (tell her that)

you think she’s really listening?

if it makes you feel better
go ahead, make me feel small
i know what you’re up to
baby build the wall
you think you’ve seen it all
and life has no surprises
until you call out my name and return you get silence

the situation

I’m here one minute, gone the next.  Where I keep going, I don’t know, really, it’s this sort of drifting that my mind is strangely using to escape from something that’s too big for it to handle right now.  The weeks are flying by, I am always disoriented and confused, tuesdays feel like thursdays, wednesdays like saturdays, sundays like tuesdays, I am all over the place and I am losing this sense of self that I had so proudly developed over the summer. Everything is so habitual and mechanical and the total opposite of what I really want, I feel thousands of opposing forces rushing through me at any given moment. It’s these general feelings of instability that concern me.  I could fall asleep in this chair and this weekend I decided to stop being an apathetic asshole, regarding myself.

black sand.

There is something refreshing about being cold. It’s such a clean feeling, uncomfortably pure, like ice forming on a bare tree branch, a baby taking her very first step, all so necessary and revitalizing.  She has been thinking of how divided we all are, but why? There is a strange feeling in the air, one of loneliness lightly sprinkled upon welcomed solitude, the end of something vital, comforting intervals, blank paper, long lists. Her hair flows down her back, reaching desperately toward a surface it will never get the chance to touch, providing her with soothing confidence that others desire to steal. I am ashamed for not treating life like the wonderful blessing it is everyday, for becoming lost in the problems that drain energy from my skin, bones, hair and muscles, for allowing people to affect me at times when I find myself falling and unable to rise up from the ground without feeling completely broken. There are so many things left to say, and I am sick of having regrets that cyclically bite me, catching me off guard, throwing heavy rocks down on me as I lay across the cold earth. The effects of this brutal stagnation are appearing in every day actions, thoughts, desires, causing me to lose the hope that I am so adamant in carrying around with me. It’s becoming almost impossible to fool myself, thank God. Thank God that there is some progress, but such progress seems to be taking away from the motion I so painfully desire to feel once again. How is this possible?

ehhhh

I’ve been thinking about past winters a lot and it’s making me feel weird things that I don’t want to feel. I was hungover this morning which was awkward as I puked for an hour on a Tuesday morning, can you imagine, Tuesday, the worst day of my week?! Kate made some comment about how ‘that will teach you stop drinking everyday’. Uhhh. The best part was that I had a five million hour conversation with Jenn while I was wasted last night and told her all this stuff that was really unnecessary, forgot about it, and then remembered today at like 11am mid-puke, while looking at the streaks of mascara all over my face, thinking about how damn attractive I was at that moment. I’m pretty frustrated with myself. I’m supposed to be somewhere but instead I’m going to listen to Yann Tiersen, paint my nails, drink 3 bottles of diet coke, and write in my humanistic journal in a little bit, I have such an interesting life. I’m so damn exciting, with my four journals and the random shit i write all over half-blank papers laying around and my online blog that I fill with ramblings and incoherent babble. YEAH. Anyway, the frustration is related to my stupid anxiety that is burning a hole in my fucking chest, it’s getting to the point where I don’t know how much more of this bullshit I can handle without going completely insane/being drunk all the time. ehhhhh. Plus I really wanted to tell my story in seminar today but by the time I had thought about it for 2 hours and overanalyzed all my thoughts, it was time to leave. Idiot. This weekend I’m going home and Devin’s coming with me which will be very interesting, to say the least. Lately I’ve been feeling like all parts of my body, minus my chest, have been sedated and then my chest is just about to explode into a million little pieces inside me and no one will ever know and my eyes will just open really wide and I’ll try to say something but nothing will come out and it’ll all just be over, just like THAT, poof! I’ll be gone and it’ll be my crazy anxiety’s fault.