dreamers

i sometimes see him, in my mind, clearer than other times i imagine him. on these clearer pictures, i see a great man. he is on a journey. a journey he wishes to accomplish alone. he feels a great desire for independence, freedom and the complete fulfillment of self. but at certain moments - certain, rare moments when he is completely alone - he doubts himself, and then still other moments...i know he imagines someone like me. and this is the clearest of moments - me knowing exactly who he is without ever meeting him while imagining him, and he, in the same respect imagining me - knowing i'm imagining him. and although we've never met, we've never shared a real moment, when we do meet, we'll know...something.

we're not exactly waiting for each other. we each have our own lives to live. we each give into idle pleasures now and again. we find fulfillment in not only what we do, but what we're capable of. the only thing that keeps us awake at night, and have us dreaming in the day is the fact that we're just a daydream, imagination, invention; a comfort away from reality. we don't even exist.

survival is thinking:
"i don't belong here"
and then wading around;

no matter who you bump into,
share that cold air between you

bump together for some warmth

then get on that separate lifesaver

you're from somewhere else

somewhere greater
somewhere less

doesn't fucking matter

"I want you, But I don't need you" - Amanda Palmer

I like you, and I'd like you to like me to like you
But I don't need you, don't need you to need me to like you
Because if you didn't like me, I would still like you, you see
la lala... la lala...

I lick you, and I'd like you to like me to lick you
But I don't need you, don't need you to like me to lick you
If your pleasure turned into pain, I would still lick for my personal gain
la lala... la lala...

I fuck you, and I'd like you to like me to fuck you
But I don't fucking need you, don't need you to need me to fuck you
If you need me to need you to fuck, that fucks everything up
la lala... la lala...

I want you, and I want you to want me to want you
But I don't need you, don't need you to need me to need you

That's just me, so take me or leave me
But please don't need me, don't need me to need you to need me
Because we're here a minute, the next we're dead
So love me or leave me but try not to need me
Enough said.

I want you, but I don't need you...

I love you, and I love how you love how I love you
But I don't need you, don't need you to need me to love you
If your love changed into hate, would my love had been a mistake?
I don't know. I don't know.

So I'm gunna leave you, I'd like you to leave me to leave you
But love, believe me; it isn't because I don't need you
(You know I don't need you)
All I wanted was to be wanted
But you're drowning me deep in your need to be needed
la lala... la lala

I want you, and I want you to want me to want you
But I don't need you, don't need you to need me to lead you

That's just me, so take me or leave me
But please don't need me, don't need me to need you to need me
Because we're here a minute, the next we're dead
So love me or leave me but try not to need me
Enough said.

I want you, but I don't need you...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3UYEZnhnVCg

untitled song

if you'll take me
as worthless as i am
an abused girl,
used and broken down
if you'll take me,
i'll take you too
i'll take you as you are-
i'll take your heart

i once inked a pond and wrote:

the pond ripples
with the desire to
run into the sea
tired of a stagnant movement
wind only hitting it
against the reeds
still
waiting
to rise up to the sky
even just
to fall again;
the only excitement in its existence

it's odd how happy i feel
when i imagine myself dead

memories

these should be private, unopened, forgotten
held down, trapped, never shared...
because they're inconsequential

but there's an interested party
and for only that reason,
is it on a public interface as such;
and even so, possibly no one could read it...

.........

first impressions at the academy?

really, in all truth, i was so absorbed in myself, to say the easiest way, to be bothered with first impressions - maybe it came easier, the fact, because five people i knew of or knew about or fairly knew personally came along with me

even so - there should exist first impressions - shouldn't there?

shouldn't there - even when i was thinking here's my escape - and it wasn't so
shouldn't there - even when that escape was to another cell - and it wasn't so
shouldn't there - even when i isolated more than the voted hermit - and it wasn't... so... much

i felt downhill, since the academy, but maybe downhill was way before then... maybe downhill was at my birth.

maybe downhill is all life is... until the uphill - but so few may ever get there...
...steepest hill yet...

(i should've written this out first - but now i haven't it's all 'blah-sey' since i'm still a little buzzed...)

i'd rather talk about the moment "write" about the moment that is... than any past... i only write about the past when i'm sadly drunk - or sad when i'm drunk...

fin digress

maybe it's because i don't believe in first impressions...
maybe it's because i ignored most people's existence in that place
maybe it's because i didn't want to get invested in that place anymore than i was...

first impressions don't exist with me...

all i knew... were events that occurred... people who happened to catch my attention beyond their intrusion- most intruded.... others ...
so few of 'others' i intruded... and was glad to... and was rather well received...
but that intrusion came too late... oh fucking well.

there are no first impressions really... i think it truly comes when one is alone entering a place...entering also, in a certain way that they can allow first impressions, neither completely diving in nor ignoring as i did.

impression? he impressed me.
from afar.
and i only started looking,
as a joke, as a prom date.
and only he, i knew could be it...
i made sure he had no attachments, not any hint with anyone
because i don't like drama
in real life
and there we were.... and there we went. and there we had... and ceased.

academy?

i try to not... think about it ever happening.

i'm still recovering.

if anything - the only impressions...

were of people coupling up and off so fast and so long and such and such -
i tried my best not to do that - because i saw it as easily done...
if you went it coupled already - you were desired, but off the chart - unavailable.
if you were available... then you were went for...

sorry... i have nothing but hatred... for that place..
this is me on the fly,
trying to talk about it.
but there's nothing good from that place. nothing.

i met the good things before or after the place...
the one good thing i met... he's dead.

so fuck that place. fuck that place and die.

fuck the academy. it doesn't exist for me. it's best for me to imagine it now, as non existent

change is within
never without

"why did you fuck me over?"

he sits silent.

"you never cared did you? at least i pretended to care less, but cared a whole hell of a lot more than you did."

"you can't say i didn't care-"

"yes i can. you claim you cared, but all you cared with was with your dick. i've never let any guy fuck me over until after...you know what's funny? i had a nightmare with you in it... and i hate when nightmares come true."

"maybe you shouldn't have pretended to not care."

"maybe you should have been honest from the start."

"i said what i felt at the moment."

"never believe what you feel at the moment for someone you fuck. time tells with that shit. i don't even want to see your fucking face anymore."

"it doesn't have to be like this-"

"but it is."

"i think you have to be mature."

"i think you have to be feeling what i'm feeling, oh wait, you did this to me. fuck off and die."

she gets up and walks away.

regrets

i was talking with a. and k. today
we came upon regrets
and i was surprised that
after a moment went by
so many came to mind:

i regret that-

-i didn't run away
-i didn't shoot myself with that loaded canon
-i didn't cut deep enough
-i didn't run away
-i went to the academy
-i bullshitted my parents (esp. mother) for so long
-i ended it with him
-i didn't say "i love you"
-i didn't run away
-i started drinking
-i didn't run away
-it was you instead of me
-i became an alcoholic
-i didn't end it
-i'm still here
-i am not running away
-i am an alcoholic
-i'm still alive

and without the first two regrets...
i wouldn't still be here
wondering

it seems my purpose of living is to make regrets

alcoholic

idleness to an alcoholic
is like walking the plank
over a tank of alligators
with human blood on their teeth

an alcoholic prefers company
chatter, clatter...sex

an alcoholic prefers
like a customer to a whore
to pay for company
any company

more than talking
more than listening
that body present
doing likewise
thinking likewise

paying for sympathy

an alcoholic is better off
driven off the road
six feet of dirt as a blanket
a tombstone for a pillow
----

when i'm even half alive
and i feel nothing

i will not be inconvenienced.

when i'm even half alive
and i feel something

i would give the rest of my life
to it
because it will be the most i've ever felt
in so long

i just realized... it's almost a year

and i wonder where all that time went.
and know you'd be disappointed that i haven't moved on.

but right now...
i still can't believe it's almost a year
since your death.
because every time i think
and have you in it...
you were just alive... and just now died.

it's so unreal...
the mind can get so unreal

and i can't decide if that's beautiful
or horrific

the hypocrite speaks

i wonder why men choose to begrudge women so much - is it comedic for them to say such things as though it hurts no one? and the women who simply laugh along just to find approval in the company of men. i think once again the feminine rise has fallen on the wayside.

i feel sometimes that nothing has changed. there is no more equality than 60 years ago. no more equality, but in actuality - laws have changed, rules have changed.

but the issue i find is that people have grown too content with how things are when the change could be taken further.

no wonder even women don't want to be women. this complacency, this stuck atmosphere - no wonder we seek the company and power of men and insult even our own kind - when really, the only growth all gender has had is sexually. no wonder slut and cunt is thrown about. women have forgotten about the one collective - females - and since then, we have ceased to grow.

not saying women aren't free. they do, with the right choices throughout life, have every opportunity to reach freedom as any man.

but throughout that woman's life - she will have faced those crude looks, vulgar remarks, multiple more tests and hardships because she is attractive to the straight male in power.

even when it comes among friends - the woman will see her male friend as a friend, equal in that respect - a companionship - but he will view her as a female, a friend, but with the possibility of something more - and when that's rejected, he moves on, loses respect, or still covets.

i shouldn't be so sad over all this. truth.

my mother calls me a quitter
at first my heart heats with everything to say
but my mouth remains shut

and then i listen
her morals, the way she was raised
sticking to things to the end
no matter how much you hate it
no matter how much your heart cries
no matter how much you want to die
you stick to it til the end
whether you die in the process
or the end is death
there lies her stoicism
everything that is good
and right
and respectable
in what she thinks
everyone's eyes.

i say
fuck that

i don't think i've ever learned
because i've never broached it with anyone

but i'm tired, otherwise.
i wish i could experience love
even to lose it.
than to realize love after it's gone
and never really having it in possession
...
it was buried with his body

it's an image, i could never take out of my mind
his face was all wrong
his hands crossed over his chest.
him so still
i wish i were next to him

i thought it so wrong

it is so wrong to see something like that

if i can help it.
i would never go to a ceremony of death

im tired of being this kid
with a facade of an adult
a disguise of self confidence
when really
peel the first layer
and one will see the rotten corpse of a child
and the stink that was contained
will hit all at once in that sight

i can only grow when i have the courage
to let someone see that me

the courage that i show i have in boundless
the courage that i really don't have for myself

id rather die for someone
than die watching your face become repulsed
by who i am

i have come to realize...
i hate being from the midwest.
well
i am still in the midwest, but i will be known as
being from the midwest.

i was told by an indian from new jersey
i sound like i'm from indiana

it must be my drawl
and i'm an asian
an asian with a drawl

westerniz-asian

new guitar

still needs a name

life is so unreal that
it scares me when someone else confronts me
i disappear within myself
i laugh as they cry
because i can't accept it

i'm so lost in a daydream
i wonder if i have to wake up
in order to break the string of events that are occurring around me
seemingly out of my control

but i feel safe,
in my daydream
happy even
as others around me show me their pain
their hurt
their suffering

and i wonder why they don't see what i see
death is close by
so why do you wish to take so much control
let go
let go of me
let go of me

the touch i've been looking for

he strokes my body
but it dies-
(typo: does)
not reach my dead heart

you're soft, he says
i smile, letting him pet
the lion that waits to devour
waits
to devour...
to savor it when it's obtained
(if it is ever)

he does not know
how harrrrrrrd
i can get

uh...?

"...my day off...tired as shit, but then i did oversleep. didn't feel like getting out of bed so i slept summore. mostly because the dream was more enticing than real life. i had nothing planned that day. i woke up later, got up and ate some food. then went to bed again and drifted off. then i woke, still nothing to do. so i eat. it got late, and nothing pulled at me at all. by then my back was sore for being on it for so long. i jerk off. check the time. then jerk off summore. then i start drinking. then i jerk off summore. now, i don't know if i want another drink since the head ache's gone..."

fcuk life

i think (and tell everyone else)
it'll get better
but it hasn't for me.

i think (but no one else does it)
turn into this tree...
but i drive on to my destination;
a cage.

and then i see,
my mother happy
and i wonder
"is that all it takes?"

and then i cry,
always when driving
alone
in the worst weather

what the hell am i (?)
supposed to do now

i call certain people
but no one answers
there was only one who would always answer
and now is gone

so what
the hell
am i

if i used to be someone i never really were
and was becoming someone i already am
then what the fuck's the point?

...

i think it's worse because it's nearing your birthday.
february 2nd.
if it's my day off,
i'm visiting your grave

the war with self

i love you, self
in your most downer moments
in your most depressive thoughts
in your complete isolation of mind
(as people pass you by, even touching you)

i love you
we are still alive
maybe alone
maybe
alone

but you're dying with me
and know that i love you
in your most downer moments
in your most depressive thoughts
in your complete isolation of mind
as people pass you by

as long as we're both still breathing
let's have that drink
that we deserve

.....

am i the only one
who ponders
"where do the suicides go?"

like the movie
what dreams may come
maybe

i will never believe some suicides
deserve hell

an ongoing list, updated every so often... that i might find...

sylvia plath
david foster wallace

(among the first that come to mind, besides the fictional characters:
anna karenina
madame bovary
*kate chopin's character in "the awakening")

"i have my own recipe of bullshit, and i won't digest any other bullshit"

...

there's something different about the young and the old
the young laugh when the old walk away
but the old walk away knowing something

...

"looks like things have changed."
"how's that?"
"now you're chasing me."
"it means i'm not dead...yet."
"what?"
"it means i'm not dead yet."

...

looking around the near empty bar
drinking to intoxication,
to the beyond
(wherever that is
never went there sober, so wouldn't know)

couldn't help but pause and think
the weight of things that would never let me
just fly away
(but it could've just been the beer sitting
in my belly)

then i think
maybe i'm next
and with a smile
i chug the last half

because while it's half empty
why the hell not?

No. 3

we met for the fourth time after a period of break
i was surprised he agreed to see me
after how i felt i treated him the last time

he still thinks the same about me
which warms my heart because
he either still sees the good in me that never changed
or still wants me, and that never changed

....

today was too much for my delicate nerves
they're delicate, once you get past the fifty feet high brick wall
after you scale it
you'll see tears all too easy
but sometimes, i bring the wall down myself

....

mother,
quit blaming yourself
let others breathe for themselves
you are not the savior of your family
you're not even the savior of yourself

there is no savior

we're all going to die one day

oh, and by the way
happy 25th anniversary

labor

shoveling 5 inches of snow off 25(?) feet long driveway: 30 min
enjoying a cigarette laying down in 5 inches of snow in the backyard,
watching the stars dance before my eyes,
waiting for my heartbeat to go down: priceless

manual labor is a soul purifier

and there she goes;
life, as beautiful as she should be...
never to be seen again.

....

i cried my brown colored eyes out
for no clear reason
in a crowded restaurant
that showed no heart

...

i'm enjoying seagrams and coke
and whenever i do, i only think of one person
i hope you're laying comfortably
in your grave

becoming

my different obsessions with alcohol
were like the men i've had
were parallel to my growing sexuality
were representative of my sexual becoming

my first sip of alcohol
i'm sure it was mixed
with coke
in the safety of my older cousin
she got me into a bar, and
i was only sixteen.
that was my first experience.
this thirty year old man kissed me on the cheek
he didn't believe
i hadn't kissed a boy by then.

i experienced losing my virginity sober
it was void of passion
filled with too much speculation
created by calculation
cold prod
gloved hands
stiff sanitation sheet against my back
legs spread
as he plunges in.
too sober, with too much mix.
but i remember kissing him in the morning
as i walked out the door, smiling
with a hopeful heart
there was blood on those sheets.