mind untangled

rub my eyes

2010-08-23T17:53:00.000-05:00

this can't be happening.

all we are

2010-04-29T01:09:00.001-05:00

Tiny spirits bearing up corpses, let's not put too much emphasis on the corpses, shall we?

if wishes were horses

2010-04-29T00:33:00.003-05:00

....we'd all have cocaine addictions.

Why do I speak? Especially things like this, to random people.

Awkward.

...---...

fucking.

A.

slight

2010-04-28T21:11:00.000-05:00

cat through the portal

2010-04-27T19:21:00.000-05:00

from the kitchen floor

2010-04-27T19:12:00.000-05:00

point of reference

2010-04-27T18:32:00.002-05:00

The beast inside of me is gunna getcha, getcha, getcha....

I forgot how to do this....

Thought articulation bullshit.

I walked through the door of my apartment after work today and thought Jules was dead.

My sweet little parakeet, almost slaughtered by my sweet little cat. Mallow. Not as innocent as his name would suggest.

Jules' cage was all over the floor; he was seemingly unconcerned with his situation, sitting in the upper corner of his upside-down world of bars....

I put him on my shoulder and look at my cell phone.

Okay.

Another missed call.

This is too many. I have carefully tested the boundaries over the years for how long I can ignore my family before they sincerely start to consider whether I am, in fact, dead.

Mother is the most pressing; I haven't spoken to her in.... A long time. I bite my lip. It really depends, with her. If she is in a good mood....

If she's willing to "go there" or not. I'm hoping not. But I have to call her. So I do. Before I get high, before I get a glass of wine. Before I fade away completely.

Julian nestles into my neck, nibbling my hair with his tiny beak. I smile.

My mother answers, sounds happy. I relax, infinitesimally. She tells me about my cousin having her second baby. I try to remember how much younger my cousin is than I am.

When I think all is going well, she Goes There.

"I don't know what to think about you," she says.
A heartbeat's hesitation before I reply, "What do you mean?"
"I just," she sighs. "I don't have a reference point, here. My mother left when I was young and I didn't have the opportunity to talk to her," she says. "But I'm here, I'm available. Do you hate me?"
"God, Mom," I say.
"I just don't have anything to compare it to," she tries to explain again.
I know what she's trying to say, but it's not what she's saying.
"It's not like that, Mom, okay?" I can't tell her all that I feel or I will lose it completely. I am also keenly aware of Justin standing in the doorway.
"I would understand, if----" she starts.
"No," I interrupt. Angry. Irritated. "I love you. It's not you. Okay?"
She sighs.

I ask her when my half sister's graduation party is, and she tells me: May 8th.

I try to remember today's date. I have time. I feel such guilt for avoiding my mother like this. But I would not be able to bullshit her if she saw me like this. The What's-Wrong-With-You's would be ceaseless.

We hang up; I get a glass of wine.

Smoke.

In the vapor,

again.

scattered

2010-04-26T21:09:00.002-05:00

give it time.

I may find more words,

I may not,

hopefully....

Either will happen.

Happening is good.

duel of the fates

2010-04-24T22:43:00.002-05:00

we will never die

2010-04-24T05:25:00.001-05:00

it never works

when your eyes and your mouth come unfurled

2009-09-12T05:09:00.004-05:00

I hate that I love this Ashes Divide CD.....

I can't help it. Especially Ritual and A Wish.

"I wanna see the blood rush back into your face"? Yeah. Golden.

P.S. I hate you.

But my cat loves the shit out of me.

At some point I realize that twelve hours ago I was leaving work. Twelve and a half.

But who's counting?

onward toward the light

2009-09-10T22:11:00.000-05:00

remember these

2009-09-10T22:03:00.010-05:00

In the mirror she saw bits and pieces of a person, hastily put back together and fastened with masking tape, the end result a haphazard frankenstein with the constant threat of disassembling upon receipt of too much more wear and tear.

...

He counted measures to the rhythm of her speech; did she know she spoke in cut time?

...

Every redeeming quality he possessed was stolen from someone else: his talent for music, from his mother; his acerbic wit, from his father; mannerisms, also from his mother. Both dead, now, they wouldn't mind his robbing them of their gifts. But from his brother, still alive, he took something more dear than either former and his theft was vanity, for when happiness is stolen from a loved one the thief forfeits his right to save any for himself.

My mind is untangled but my thoughts are still in knots.

I don't suppose this will help?

2009-09-08T23:06:00.002-05:00

Allow me to re-introduce myself....

roma.
female.
nebraska.
23.
losing it.

Getting the "amputee" feeling again. These words I attempt to construct are just that. Constructions? Contrivances. Forced.

Whatever I may have had must be gone, by now.

Retrospectively, many of my fears were unfounded, at the time. Only now, I can see them taking substance.

I cannot write.
I cannot think.
I cannot sleep.
I cannot create.

Not necessarily in that order. It feels like cheating to gain so much "inspiration" from my dreams. Where does this come from? My mind is my own, so I've been told. Sleep, get an idea, think about it, write it down. Voila: creation. Sans sleep, all is lost. Though it takes a lot of sleep to get an idea. The longer I sleep, the more dreams I have, the more I remember, the more my internal climate shifts and sparkles my brain cells into action.

I am talking 10+ hours marathon sleep. And this doesn't even work all the time, so there's 10 to 15 hours I have wasted. My ability to waste time astounds me.

Clumsy transition, lack thereof, fuck your segue....

One cannot force one's mind to think beautiful thoughts and translate them into beautiful words.

This takes a talent I do not have,

may have never had,

may never have again.

Ouch. Is there any tense more assaulting to the eyes and ears than the pluperfect?