I choose to exist again.

easy tumble, easy doll
easy rumble, easy fall
i get up on easy love
i get up on easy questions

bukowski

“Human relationships were strange. I mean you were with one person for a while, eating and sleeping and living with them, loving them, talking to them, going places together and then it stopped. Then there was a short period when you weren’t with anybody, then another woman arrived, and you ate with her and you fucked her, and it all seemed so normal, as if you had been waiting just for her and she had been waiting for you. I never felt right being alone; sometimes it felt good but it never felt right.”

abusing of the rib

I know she’s been put through hell , I can feel it; and I know she’s touched heaven as well, trying to steal it; it came on, it taught her a song, it strung her along, and it caught her when the guard was gone, now to the break-of-dawn she’s wants to feel that fix

long term

I got up and rubbed my red eye into a swollen pit of clarity. It was 4am and I tiptoed downstairs and quietly flew out the side door. She was waiting for me across the street, eyes glowing, shy smile and all. I carelessly crossed the street and wrapped my arms around her small frame, breathing in a soft floral scent that glazed my eyes over. We stood there taking each other in, eyes closed, imagining, dreaming, full of love and exciting hope. This would be the final time we’d see each other. It ached; then I realized I’d been smiling for hours.

When it’s cold out, we seem to most need people. Bodies to cling to, hands to clutch, mouths and necks to kiss. The summer brings a sense of aimlessness, wandering around in the sunshine, I don’t care if I’m alone behavior. There is nothing that I want more than to fly across the state and temporarily into your life but mountains are higher than ever, rivers deep, emotions completely unavailable in these moments. I am so in love with the idea of being perpetually distant that I don’t even know who I am anymore as I drift along the broken earth in this stupid alone-but-not-lonely daze of mine. There is a sense of painful comfort in this, like when he puts his hand around my throat.

yellow

This constant connect-the-four-dots-that-would-make-a-square-if-the-one-dot- wasn’t-such-an-outlier thing is eating my skin, my bones, my eyelashes, my smile, everything. You are going to lose and it’s difficult to feel bad for you, even with that smile those eyes the way your hands feel in my hair, even with all of this and the past stupidity that I am so naturally inclined to grasp with every inch of skin on my hands, you will lose. I’m floating along but staying in this same place that swallows me whole, tears my skin apart in a healthy attempt to inject life into pores that otherwise lay still and void of colour.

I laid down on the earth and soaked it all in, the grass seducing my feet tenderly, the bugs begging to enter between my cold lips, eyes closed, pretending that the heat of the summer could make me forget how it felt every single time. What, do you think that I can’t taste you anymore? The wind was teasing my tangled pride as I imagined myself slowly flying upward, raising my arms into the sunshine that was so perfectly heating my skin. There is something about the way he looks at me, knowing how completely imperfect humans are and seeing me in a completely different light. What is it about me? I can’t look at you like I look at the ones who have killed me in the past, the way you walk talk touch breathe live connects our cores with an invisible string, constantly moving extending molding to the way we exist. I want you to float with me but you’re already floating, floating away then back then closer and closer until you’re a part of what I have come to hate, self-loathing that lasts an hour at least, desire that pours into my glass with one stare in the right direction, one movement in the right manner. I cannot predict the winner but if history choses to repeat itself, she will end up in a pool of blood that swallows her whole. Without denial, the end is the end.

excess disgust

i really am too minimalistic for any of this. there was a silver beam in the middle of the room and i was tied to it for too long, crying at his how his sadistic neural networks were wired, wishing to be anywhere else. i was three, and eighteen years later, it’s all i can think about, some days. i want to publish a memoir of how tangled hair has spoken for me over the past few years, shivering from thigh bites and bruised mouths yelling FIX ME NOW over and over again, but there’s no one to fix me and my scars aren’t so quirky anymore. i realize i make no sense when the clock strikes two, when it’s dark and everybody’s panting at each other, eyes lit with desire, mouths dripping with foul words and lies, pouring out so easily. i haven’t had a monogamous bone in my stupid body for the past 21 years and now i’m sitting here ready and willing, a scared idiot refusing to give myself what i deserve. truth be told, i’m tired and broken and sick of playing this role i have so effortlessly fallen into. i fall in and out of lust for somebody that doesn’t give me anything but these stupid bruises i am so disgustingly obsessed with. there is nothing nice about a life filled with anger, nothing nice about people who disregard sunshine and shut the door tightly right when the cool breeze is beginning to flow in, nothing nice about being jaded to the point where she looks at each human thinking this person is going to tear me apart, this person will eventually violently rip my life wide open and ruin my progress. how is this a healthy lifestyle? her mouth is forced shut as she crouches down by the ground, hiding her cigarette because she doesn’t know where it came from, she doesn’t know how she got here or where she’s even going next, she’s got no plan, just a sack of hope that’s been stomped on for the past few years. i feel like it was just hours ago that i was dreaming of being left alone in a stadium with a dead body, being abandoned by the one person i’ve known for the past ten years. she left me there, left me with the stupid man who spoke to me from beyond this life in a voice that covered my skin with goosebumps and familiarity. i love the shit out of you but when i think about it, i love absolutely nothing about you.

bruised graduate

my head is on the verge of exploding with ideas, dreams, desire, and i remain packed tightly into a cardboard box, unable to escape. walking around on a sunday hidden in a giant mass of black fabric, a stupid square cap on my head, shivering as i watch the past four years of my life freeze and compacted into the toes of my shoes is not my idea of living, it’s still bothering me and i can’t shake this terrifying feeling. i feel accomplished yet completely broken from everything i have ever dreamed of. sunday night i forced smiles, wishing i could really feel what i wanted, and in the end i gave in, let a boy cover me in lustful bruises, cried with my head against his chest and helplessly tried to drown myself in a pool of optimism. monday morning i said goodbye to a 10 by 5 enclosure that has destabilized me over and over, i am always saying goodbye. i stare at my bruises in the mirror and wish for more, but it all just seems too far away.

don’t you want to be found?

i’m graduating college in 12 days. what? how did this even happen? my roughly 30.page (lookin like it might be longer…) honors thesis needs to get submitted by friday, and i need to present to the department. after that, i’m done. done with college. again, what??

oh and i think i may have swine flu. how appropriate that i’m ending my college career by being sick, just how i started (and spent most) of my college career.

wait a minute.

I just hit the snooze button for two hours straight. FAIL. I really hate when I wake up and am actually hungry, which barely ever happens, but I have to take my stupid meds and wait a stupid hour. But I woke up on the right side of the bed this morning, and the sun is shining and I’m in a pretty damn good mood and plan on staying this way throughout the day (even though my day is going to be filled with bio things, stupid bio things, and quite possibly locking myself in the library. ehh.). Yeah. Hey I can be happy too!!!
So last night when I should have been reading about evolution I was going through all these old emails from junior year of high school and laughing my ass off at how ridiculous I was/we were. I don’t even know why I kept all this shit, I just never bothered to clean out my old email account. Maybe I secretly knew that they would provide me with much needed entertainment on some random night when I was being silly and depressed and on the verge of becoming an adult. You know?? Well they’re all gone now. Also I would like to recognize that for every 20 shitty people in my life, there is one good, at least seemingly good, decent, “will catch you off guard, surprise you when you least expect but most need it” person. So, thanks for that. =)
Ummm but this dude, whoever he is, needs to stop calling me. And I need to stop giving out my number when I’m drunk/barely have a pulse/have no idea who I was even talking to. Dude#1 I understand giving my number to, although I deeply regret it ever since Kate told me how weirdly into me he was and actually wanted to get to know me/hang out sober. (Wait. What? I don’t hang out sober with dudes I meet at bars, no thank you, unless you’re actually an interesting legitimate human with redeemable qualities, which rules out about 95% of them.) Dude #2 (who called me yesterday, also early sunday morning, so I know I met him saturday night, but don’t have his number in my phone thus not knowing who the fuck he is), who I thought was Dude #1’s friend, apparently is not, and according to Kate he is the “nice dude at the pita pit you met while I was taking to his friend that had just gotten out of jail and had his name tattooed on his hand. you either made out with him or bit him but i’m pretty sure he asked for your number. Don’t you remember any of that??!” No, Kate, I do not! WINNER.