"long live the carcrash hearts"

you're like a ciggarette,put to mouths and then put out.
at least you know who i (think i) am

paris,france. my ideas can't get through the narrow streets. louis vuitton has a bit more on the island than louis the 14th,but you wouldn't be able to tell. "the songs we sing are going to send us all to hell". where do you begin and end ever. threw a book out the window today,words and all. literally. it felt ignorant but like just the right thing. it's really all of a matter of who you become in the middle of the night. sometimes i'm always going,but mostly i'm always coming back. that kind of thing. in the family tree of paperback books,you know,with that spinelessness thing that's going on....on the eve of possibilty the best thing i've ever dreamt of,but im lying on the cold tile floor.

"the thing i'd like most in the world, " i say to her,since at this point i might as well go on talking to her, "is to make clocks run backward." italo calvino - if on a winters night a traveller.

growing up is so overrated

it's great how you wear your seatbelt less for the saving your life part and more for the saving your money part. YOU know what i'm getting at. all or nothing. i think this pen and paper is the closest to love i'll ever get.

"let's spend tonight on top of the world"

you treat my heart like you treat your money
heirs to misfortune
yet i still feel a surge of electricity every time our fingers brush or eyes meet
i don't get in trouble,honey
i live in trouble
eiffel tower showdown
"the very hurt you sold"
i relate to that a little too well
your ears can't seem to handle the truth behind the voices
the passion within me lets me fake that smile and pretend that everything's okay
i wish i had some sort of special glove that let me hold on to something so toxic like life itself
we just make up happy places to distract ourselves from the fact that life is too short

always borrowed,always blue

"charlie,there is no future in anything. i hope you agree. that is why i like it at war. every day and every night there is a strong possibility that you will get killed and not have to write. i have to write to be happy whether i get paid for it or not. but it is a hell of a disease to be born with. i like to do it. which is even worse. that makes it from a disease into a vice. then i want to do it better than anybody has ever done it which makes it into an obsession. an obsession is terrible. hope you haven't gotten any. thats the only one i have left". ernest hemingway in a letter to charles scribner.

nothing steals the magic from writing the way writing about it does.
but i can't help but have it spin through my head as i read "the old man and the sea" over and over again.
following two plane crashes in africa.
the old man is just an old man.
the fish are just fish.
and the sharks are just sharks.
even in this context i dream of it no less.
this maybe the closest to love that i ever get.
i hate grammar. i hate spell check.
they are tools and trades we focus on when the right words escape us.
while we can use them in a world that we write,where we make our own rules.
they can rob a piece of its life.
for me words are more of a compulsion.
it is involuntary.
it falls in the catagory of breathing and the beating of the heart.
sometimes i want to throw my hands up.
to wave the white flag.
to apologize for everything i haven't done yet.
but usually i want to forget the pictures and the rumors.
to become a recollection,a shared memory. visually: a faint, sentimental face that blurs into the background of everything.
to watch all of the magazines turn to static.
and only be thought of by the clicking of these keys.

its a shot in the dark.but everyone has got to dream, right?

on my best day, when all the planets have aligned, i still couldnt come close to touching you.

take your taste back,peel back your skin. you should try saying no once in awhile.

name names. i wish there were words stronger than fuck you. but face down on a wet carpet, salty eyes,i cant think of them. "i really enjoyed kissing you tonight. i wish there hadn't been any interruptions" versus "things happen". the texts flash and you're fucking caught. i'm addicted to the truth, didn't anyone tell you baby?

this is me broken down.

your fist and my face-because i found you out.

i don't think ive ever met anyone so terrible.

eyes only.

only you understand this.

idontcareanymore.

let's crash this goddamn party of a heart

i'm a prisoner of myself
locked up inside this alcatraz of a mind
the key is running through my bloodstream
shouln't be that hard to find
my heart's not beating as fast since you left
love only has legs so it can run away

.

this room overlooks a city that i do not understand when usually i am overlooking cities that do not understand me. i don’t have any "start over" left inside of me. i wish anyone would understand. all roads lead to longing. the neon signs never turn off here. there are oceans inside of me. i only want comfort where there is none. i have never been so wrong about anyone ever. for the record, i am as sorry as i have ever been. my mind changes so much i make stock markets look normal. there are words that can be strung together and repeated in my ear in a particular order that will unlock the codes of my heart. i sit and wait on them.

i'mreadytoforgetyou.

currently trying to get over myself,but i never really was one to take the high road. so it's proving to be quite the challenge.
i was designed to break your heart. my only real crime is my obsession with documenting it.
and maybe the way i still love you after the flash on the camera cools off.
"lying is the currency of the world"
i could learn to read your mind but reading in the dark has wrecked my sight.

alive and (un)well. just being melodramatic when it's completely unnecessary. my mind is running but more like in place,kind of how life is. you wouldn't understand what i mean. you and they have been here before but it isn't the same for me. and trying to explain anything is just leaving me with a dry mouth and sore shoulders and you shaking your head (not in disagreement but more like disbelief). "mellow out"- but thats been the problem all along, at least it's been one of them. i feel like a nocturnal animal in the zoo at 12 noon. me turning away from you so you don't see my eyes when im walking out the door. you saying "shake it off,get back in the game,kid. we're gonna be okay", but trailing off in a whisper cause i know you don't even believe yourself. the volume goes with the truth. naivetey feels very strange on me but is as warm as the shyness that comes with it. you'd never guess that. new york transit love affair. the veins going underneath the streets that feel so foreign yet endearing. it's not charm, i just don't get it. trust me (but not really). couch living has me hanging onto phone lines. darling, i'm not making sense and my throat is sore-maybe at least you know i mean it. dreading your voicemail as it clicks on. and on and on and on. its me logging off.

terminological inexactitude

we are pirates of the
cruelest kind.
we pluder emotions
pillage intimacy
and rape the mind.
the world is our ocean
and we build or ship of
pretty words that lack substance.
we knock back bottles of
pocket distillation
brewed from weakness
and sweetened with lies.
we answer to all and to no one.
so trust nothing,
there's no honor amonst theives.
like you and me,
with you selling me your
bootleg affection
and me,
with all my talk
of a cutlass for a heart,
buying it nonetheless.
and while i'm still not sure
what it is i stole from you,
i guess it's nothing important.
nothing you'd miss.