November 2011
36 posts
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halloween in st. paul
for a second you think life is taking everything away. and then you’re eating frozen yogurt with your best friend, next to the cold winter window, watching trick-or-treaters walk by. you laugh and eat frozen yogurt and spill your guts and say things you haven’t been able to. it’s cold outside. you can see your breath billow and bloom before you, waver and wane. and then the boy...
October 2011
55 posts
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blue eyes in a dim room
for a moment i tried to tell you what was wrong
and i said that word, empty and heavy, but i
don’t think you heard it over the restaurant noise
or you pretended to not notice it, hanging there
between us, that word. i think we both knew
that no matter how many times i said it,
nothing could change:
so we left it alone
and walked away.
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Everyone is leaving the campus to go party, and I just arrived on campus from work. Time to sleep. Zzzzz.
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That moment when you are trying to write something and it won’t come out and you feel like screaming really loudly or punching someone. Or cursing out the window or smashing your laptop against the wall.
That’s me.
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When I was around ten years old, I was hanging upside down on the monkey bars, slipped and fell head first. A few weeks later someone rear-ended my family on the way to church. When I was even younger, I was running around the house, slipped on the newly mopped kitchen floor, slid and rammed into the oven which caused me to go unconscious. I was really such an accident prone child.
And for the...
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pacificrepublic:
You Stole x Brand New
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curing my troubles through aspirin, coffee and brand new. also: reading my sociology textbook, writing a short story for class, listening to the rain and cars outside, and making more coffee. there are weekends in which everything blurs into a single frown, and i can’t remember anything i’d like to relive. for once i am awaiting monday. to escape these past three days.
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i’m not doing too well lately. i took cold medicine and i don’t even have a cold, it should knock me out soon. god knows i need the sleep. between school and between work, i’m so tired, and it leaves me not wanting to go out at night, it leaves me lonely and quiet and it leaves me curled up in pajamas taking cold medicine for no reason at all. i’m not going to fix this...
sleep has been becoming a stranger lately.
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I have a bad habit at picking at new wounds, even older ones, at scabs and scars and other injuries. I don’t do it on purpose, I promise, it’s like when my mind isn’t looking, when my eyes are focused on something else, my hands pick apart what’s trying to come back together. i don’t do it because i want to, i don’t do it to hurt. it doesn’t even hurt,...
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Sometimes I get filled with anger out of nowhere. And if it arrived from some hypothetical somewhere, I don’t want to talk about it.
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I think I’m going to enter this writing contest, but the manuscript is due tomorrow so I only have today and tomorrow morning. The prompt is a one page poem or short story on hunger.
WHERE DO I EVEN BEGIN
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Listening to Beach House. Writing a paper for sociology at a slow but steady pace. Going to make myself some hot chocolate because it is the best medicine and I deserve it. It’s a quiet fall night, and I miss my boyfriend, especially since it’s cuddle weather. Despite that, I’m really happy. For the first time in a long time. I feel happy.
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we sat in the back seat of our lives,
and the road opened before us
like a coastline: endless and tangible,
the open and close of the world.
and the radio was playing somewhere
as we turned onto a street we weren’t
paying attention to. hurried lights strung
together in the rearview mirror and
taillights swerving, shining red like
communion wine.
darkness was your mouth as
it said...
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like two bowls, empty
and without color
next to the china
cracking, dust collecting:
i am, in this room,
out of place.
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i wrote a haiku for ashley
your hair is curly
we danced to anastasia
i miss you more, gurl
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i wrote a haiku for cj
cj is sassy
he’s a friend from welcome week
give me some lo mein
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I finally finished my poetry manuscript for my...
It’s sixteen pages. Not including the nine other pages I have printed to do other revisions.
I guess I should plant some trees soon for redemption.
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Little moments like these are the moments I live for. Cold weather, blue sky, coffee shop music, the way the spicy food I’m eating makes my coffee taste a little strange, Minnesota driving. Endless interstate road, the Current playing over the radio, even the barista who tells me “Here you go, Katherine” as he hands me my cup, the scratched table where my friends (one of them...
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If you don't like Brand New, I don't like you.
concretedazey:
Well, I might still like you. But you should listen to ‘em.
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Sometimes whenever I’m walking outside to my classes are to just anywhere at all, I imitate the way people walk. Just for fun, you know, like the exercises you would take in a theater class. I did once, we walked around in a room in thousands of circles, and the instructor yelled at us to imitate someone, imitate the way they hold themselves, the way their feet hit the ground, they way the...
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On a day like this, the spark is dim, the pitch flat, the open eyes closed or fluttering or somewhere in between. It is grey and impossible to think, sleepy head, sleepy mouth, sleepy fingers wanting the comfort of a hand, random outbursts of profanities at high volume, i don’t care that the window is open, i want refuge in my mind for once in my life, i want the security that whatever may...
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someone take these oreos away from me before i eat them all help
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a perfect weekend ending in tears and playing weezer over and over until i can’t listen to it anymore, and an upset stomach after too much food, not enough food, driving on streets adorned with orange construction, breakdowns one after the other, walking home feeling like a ghost, feeling forgotten, feeling small and incapable and sad. i feel like a hand me down sweater, thrown to a person...
i’m really not okay right now. but i will be.
maybe, maybe
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october began, and everything fell apart.
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