thoughts on paper (notebook excerpts, december 2008).

there is a beautiful soul in this town (i may have just realized).
and now i can only regret not kissing his sweet mouth in summer
because i
feared

what i didn't know about him,
that i would change
(the simple truth being: i know i'll always be alone [lost in thought])
but i could've kissed him in the pick-
up truck tonight (what was on the
radio? can't he just park the car?!); and
i
will
REGRET...
that i didn't.
but...perhaps regrets are as useless
as i wish they were.
do things transpire (as we'd hope) even if we didn't interfere? (to make it happen)

because, maybe, our lips will touch, or
were MEANT TO.
and i want you now because i
realize the differences [between us] don't mat-
ter & that in our unknowable
silence (silent self perception)
we know each other best, or [if]
not at
all.
but that's ok.
it's perfect.
i wonder if i could de-
sire
anyone ELSE.
even if i'm not ENTIRELY crazzzyzyyzyzy

about you.

i could be happy with
you a long time.

-----

i used to hate the willing alter-
cation (smokedrinksmoke).
but lately, it's the only time i come
aLIVE---
to acknowledge that there
ARE things i won't acknowledge.
to justify the feelings i keep
quiet.
still.
and i still don't know what i'm
hinting @.
(i wanted to tell you everything.
but i told you how i can't/or/
won't/because i'm not that brave
or that far gone.)

-----

the chemicals are going to wear off
soon
and i'll be sorry

because right now i remember
what i've been trying to say
(+forgot)
when i look back on tonight
{[will i appreciate this in the morning?]}

-----

there are so many questions i could
ask_____________________________you
(about me)
(and i don't necessarily refrain soley for fear of narcissism.)
i catch myself though,
because the answer would be as hollow as the question
and perhaps i can't handle that right now.
anyways, you still wouldn't love me.

-----

i wanted to tell [you] it
like it is.

i need you in the sorriest capacity.

exile.

i don't know if it's all in my head, or grounded in external reality. am i truly burning bridges or easily defeated?

midnight meditation.

thoughts racing like my body in motion, alone on a swingset in kansas. the colors of night brilliantly muted and mesmerizing. leaning back in the saddle to observe the night sky, and all i can see are the spines of radio towers illuminated red. and i think of time and its irrelevance, of lines converging on maps. Of distance--am i closer to home or farther away? on good days, i can feel safe anywhere, on better days i know i'm all i have and it's just fine with me.

stepping stone [(s)(d)]

as i opened the shutters from my mind's eye,
landscapes formed from
drifting snow
cascading ever downward
(resembling) pixels or ash, we are composed
NEWLY
as each day is d y i n g ...
synthesis of a downward motion, we are
consumed by the void beneath-------
(the black [w]hole of thought
swept away by a fierce wind into the
dustpan (the broom of whimsy
obliterates Reason)
freeing me to tap the keg of
inhibition (drug HAZE - a reckless
fury)[or drunken ambition]
a steppe away from the vagabond
's platteau
to be free ---
addressed to:anywhere
shipping + handling paid
this side up
fragile
(...or not)
because this reckless, off
beat
pulse is mine
& damaged goods have no
need for bubble wrap

night walk.

moving carefully over spackled black pavement--gleaming wet in a dusted glow--like something newly painted. with feet too numb to question the integrity of the ground beneath them, i make my way around our street's corner, with my gaze affixed to the sight of leaves and twigs and gasoline puddles.