YOU MADE ME FEEL LIKE I HAD TO CHOOSE SIDES

"i had a bit of a catastrophe," rushed out with the plume of nicotine on a harsh voice that she hated but others had taken to complimenting if only to build up the quickly crumbling wall she called her self esteem. "hm?" - more of a smirk than anything, a slight curl of thinned out lips that twisted only on the right hand sight if you were barely looking but her eyes lit up in the slightest manner just to avoid That Look he'd give her - the one that'd lash out and pin her to the wall of the bar and make her feel restless, exposed and unsteady; as if he was a child ripping open a stuffed doll with glee, showing everyone its innards and fluff (paranoia and desires).

he returned the statement with slightly dilating pupils and then a nod that was awkward so he tried to act like it was just his attempt at feeling out the beat - of the music or the conversation, she made everything musical and he had grown accustomed to what others labeled as cue-you-eye oh you get it. her own brows remained steady but her gaze grew deeper before it broke to play with the pieces of napkin below her drink. switching on and off every night was their new game just like guessing who would be sick or who would fail. really he knows she will write down the intimate details of this secured moment on a piece of cloth that she will then tape in a shoddy journal not even the Final Trusted One will ever get to see - but he never envies anything in her life for whatever it is he has withforofbecauseinaroundtoward her does not add up to anything true blue (sidenote: i call her cereulean) - because her habits are those of a cluttered life creation / woman, the latter thrown in because i suppose we must be politically correct in times like these.

Emmylou Harris with Dolly Parton & Linda Ronstadt - to know him is to love him

"but why don't you?" she asked quietly, honestly and earnestly, clutching the ends of her shirt and sniffing softly, sucking in tears as they came. with each passing minute that no one gave her an answer she crossed her ankles tighter and tighter. i'm not going to be asking you questions anymore because you're too much of a coward to give any answers. goodnight, moon!

later;

"get out."

even later;

five times.

now;

you can't handle it.



modest mouse - here it comes
modest mouse - doin' the cockroach
modest mouse - styrofoam boots/ it's all nice on ice, alright
modest mouse - interstate
modest mouse - sleepwalking (couples only dance prom night)

OR;

natalie merchant - poor wayfaring merchant

AND;
the eagles - witchy woman
which really means
eels - flower
which hopefully gave you enough hope to have

'i was thinking about cutting out to florida tonight...' and the beat kicks in, a loud bang and some beeps that ironically enough don't submit me to my usual pangs of migraines but instead gets me thinking. (oh no, here comes your worry, right apron wearing brigade?!) then an attack of aches and pains sweeps away all thought processes - pluralities are one of the things keeping me going these days - and i groan, wandering from patio to couch to chair to bed to floor to chair to couch to bed to swaying under the fan, trying to remember which bit of passage i was following when i was disrupted.

'Once i told you to write about me; because i was feeling alone - moreso than the usual tears in each car ride - and you haven't, but this is addressed to two people in their own right. curiosity rides on her shoulders each morning as she tries to sip her tea just to fill the hollow growl in her stomach; she knows something is wrong with her body as she hovers over the sink, hands gripping the metal and eyes peering down into the garbage disposal without really thinking, thoughts pouring out her eyes and mouth and down the drain around the metal razors where they are simply unceremouniously sliced into words that she does not want to learn. went to college to waste time - that shit was expensive.
joy division - ceremony (off of Still) if you care that bad contact me to hear it
radiohead - ceremony joy division cover (november 9th, 2007 webcast)



i keep trying to make art the New Freedom and it isn't falling through. scribbles of chalk dust while my family members call and i second guess their motives. surely not just to check up.

today i went through three different passages. i wish i could recall them but my brain is defunct.
the talking heads - road to nowhere
the ediotrs - road to nowhere

behind him is where i'd stand, four lines of rhythm is what i've got to hang on to the tightest. i'd be the roundabout - my images are of hair shaking (it's like a tambourine on your head; it keeps time! oh, it's so hard to be cat silver! having your hair be your second best quality! i wont mention how the joke was it being first) I WILL REMEMBER YOU, YOUR SILHOUETTE WILL CHARGE THE VIEW. his interest in my true interst _{(besides that rasp rasp raspy sorta tune i like to create that i hate hearing but hope others can stand)} has perked my heart up a bit. if only i can find said beating, blood carrying organ that is vital to such survival. this was too forward and therefore uncomfortable. except i haven't been able to find my real voice ever since pressure went in one ear and never came out the other and now i find no pitch longingly and squeak but don't crack longingly and don't cry out to rock n' roll (all night!) and fear for what could come in the next month of my life because that's all i plan for these days. thats a lie. it's actually an hour at a time.
red hot chili peppers - otherside
stereophonics - it means nothing
queen - too much love will kill you

WHAT DO YOU GO HOME TO?

i dreamt we went north, a-ville, when i wasn't even sleeping, but it was in spring and you've declared july, july! so even though it was a visit i will hope for nothing

all my photos are missing from my computer. well, no, i mean, everything is missing, but my photos are the most important. i have seven days to get my flickr account back. this wasn't part of the entry, but i just noticed. i can't breathed just a little bit.


this doesn't fit or matter, but if i'm missing three years worth of photos i can resort to 12 year old photos and smile at how -------------