Take Another Look











LEAST PATIENT PERSON IN THE WORLD ME.

STUCK IN A CIRCLE ROUND AND ROUND AND ROUND.

GOT TO GET OUT OF THE CIRCLE.

OUT!!!!!! PICK SOMETHING. STAY WITH IT. STOP SETTLING. STOP TRYING TO THINK TWENTY MOVES AHEAD. STOP THIS LIVING IN THE MOMENT STUFF IF IT ISNT WORKING.

IT SOMETIMES WORKS.

BUT MOSTLY… IT FEELS LIKE IM NOT FACING UP TO THINGS.

EXCEPT THINGS THAT I KNOW WONT ANSWER ME.

STILL LOVE ONLY ONE PERSON. EVER. HAVE ONLY LOVED ONE PERSON. THE SAME PERSON. MY PERSPECTIVE SORT OF FLEW OUT THE WINDOW. BUT THEY MAKE ME HAPPY.

BUT I FEAR WE CANT GET BACK TOGETHER. THAT MAKES ME SAD.

ANYWAY ABOUT THE REST OF MY LIFE… I GUESS IF I COULD DEAL WITH ALL FACETS AT ONCE THEY WOULDNT BE FACETS.

ONE AT A TIME.. LIKE MY APPROACH TO LIFE. NEED TO SHIFT MY APPROACH TO LIFE TO MY APPROACH TO STRATEGIZING, OR MY LACK OF STRATEGIZING.

IN THE PAST I JUST SURROUNDED MYSELF WITH PEOPLE WHO HAD THE QUALITIES I DIDNT.

THEN I DRIFTED WITH AND FOUND PEOPLE WHO WERE LIKE ME… IN SOME WAYS. IN DIFFERENT WAYS. THE MAIN DIFFERENCE WAS WHO I CONFIDED IN AND WHO I DIDNT CONFIDE IN.

I AM SOOOOOOOOOOOOO BURSTING

BUT ALSO SO CAUTIOUS

IT IS THIS CRAZY MIXTURE OF HESITANCE AND BOLDNESS.. REPEATS A LOT.

NEED TO PUT IT DOWN.

CRAZY OF ME TO THINK I WOULD JUST LIVE IN MY MOOD IF I TOOK THE THINGS I WAS DOING AWAY.. OR CHANGED THE THINGS I WAS DOING. LIKE THINKING A FISH WOULD CHANGE TO A FROG IF I PUT IT ON LAND.. THAT IS HOW I HAVE BEEN WITH MYSELF.

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{May 11, 2010}   fantasy

Date: Tue, 5 Apr 2005 07:02:46 -0400
Subject: fantasy
To: dabblearouse@gotmail.com

cold abrasive chills running down my back like the last vestige of
staring at the black window that shouldnt be in my back room
i dont know which architect put it there
didnt they know?

IT DOESNT BELONG
IT DOESNT BELONG
IT SERVES NO PURPOSE

nobody was kind enough to tell them they
designed a window that doesnt look out at anything

im a window that doesnt look like anything
the cobweb the spider deserted
clovers tied and dried

like those ugly ass envelopes your ex girlfriend
spent all her hours making
just so they’d look so nice and good and normal
to hide the fact that it ain’t
to hide the futile contact that even you cannot explain- with all of your analysis and
dehumanization

i cant stand no more, humpty dumpty

all of the clouds i put for you guys to tamper with
it wasn’t appreciated
you ungrateful bird wing

so sick of everything making sorrow
so sick of everyone turning to numbness
to provide for them in times of crisis

apathy is your best friend
and i am just there to pay for your ticket to the white house
it’s still white, isn’t it?
i wouldn’t know anymore

time comes in short, short interludes between her wet face in the pillow

take a few grains from your stash, then
combine the numbness with the fantasy
what do you get for your trouble, applejuice?

my goodness, the reveries into
what wasn’t supposed to be, what
could have been

an abdomen turned
into a swerve that narrowly avoided the death penalty
once charged once fated once stated
the deal was not made

the plastic surgeon was disappointed
no work today
no turning people into other people

they liked to change the masks up
lift the cheeks, square the jaw
embellish the eyelids

how far can you change a face
what do you feel when you have to make a
beautiful person ugly for the sake of
witness protection

answer the damn question you sleeping curse
show a little respect!

you’d think that shelter would be enough but
hiding from our enemies is tricky business now

internet trails turn to coconut mango lotion commercials
the real thing is never exposed no matter the cost

keep my princess away

cant write fugues
cant write rap songs
all that i write

is

fantasy



{February 17, 2010}   last time waking up

“These were surfaces that had encountered the booted steps of Confederate generals and even Jefferson Davis himself on a brief stopover on a losing effort. He knew the history well, but had never reveled in it. [For] you didn’t pick your family or your family history.”

“Unlike some of his ancestors who had been a bit freewheeling in their oversight, he undertook this responsibility seriously.”

“He was a man who always allowed the time to think things through. Almost nobody did that anymore, from the presidents of the US to Wall Street barons to the man or woman on the street. Speed…because of that impatience the answer they got usually turned out to be wrong.” -first family

Don’t revel in your family history, he says. I guess that means if they were all rich losers don’t say it’s in the cards.Famous geniuses? Not a guarantee. Drunk nomads? Not an excuse to be a nomad or to be drunk. But now we don’t just have ourselves to blame things on; there are genes and, of course, what was. Cling to it if you like. Still, in case you didn’t know, what constitutes an excuse these days has gotten rice paper thin.

The manager who wakes me up at 3 am claiming I’m a source of noise is working on the apartment downstairs now and I can hear exactly what words are coming out of the newscasters mouth because he won’t shut his door.

I believe Burdough is angry at me but I don’t know what he is angry about. I told him I’d assume things were peachy keen- do you really think I’m the type that would use that language? I told him I would assume things were ok between us.Better than the opposition: I’d rather not believe he’s angry and I can’t find out why.It is bad timing since I need to know he is worthy of the recognition he will receive if the deal goes through. But he is acting strange and unpredictable- just when he was the one person who had seen and accepted the worst of me, some detail sent him into a tailspin? Dammit, that friendship was important and somehow unique and he should know better by now. He’s always let me do whatever I want in terms of communicating, and that’s always been a saving grace, a place I can go if I feel I’ve been roughed up internally. The bruises are worn by how nonchalant-sounding I am. Like when I saw him after Downey and I were broken, and he tried to help with my mac, and something felt odd- maybe it was the fact that this time he didn’t notice. Maybe it was the fact that I didn’t say anything. Maybe he was upset about something and I didn’t ask. But it takes a lot to get him angry, or it takes hardly anything at all.

From friendship to what refuses to be friendship-(if he wants friendship we’d talk on the phone, wasn’t that where the heart of our friendship was? And that is a link that can never be over strengthened.)

Texting. A goodbye now. Downey wrote xoxo and maybe it was something that sounded more private than that but I’m not going to tell you- all I can say is I froze turning beet red that stillness and silence coming over me, that sudden alertness and I hid my head underneath my pillow trying not to think. I’m trying to be your friend really but you are the only one I want if I want and I can go for long periods not wanting not being with anybody just not when you are nice. After hiding I type back something of reciprocation while a voice in my head yells at me for not being hard to get.I guess these things go in cycles and if he didn’t have a steady job or life he might find himself on my side and if I was working so much I didn’t have time to think- well could that happen me not thinking no but I know when I was working full time and going to college full time things got ragged around the edges..got to write the french angel back! Why has it always got to be all or nothing? Last night it was officially ‘Downey’s fault’ if I fell asleep imagining him lying next to me. If he wants to be my friend he can just pick up the phone but I understand the apprehension, oh, what will we talk about? Better to just lay low for a while I guess. But I can remember how perfect it could have would have but it is the reality that will stay with me through thick and thin I just need some distance and to focus solely on my work; I can and will do that.



et cetera