after awhile when you bounce back and forth between different hearts nothing gets old. you never really have to mean anything to anyone. i have intimacy problems with the world.

her eyes are blackened around the edges so much that she looks like a racoon. they look like permenant black eyes- the consumate victim. everybody loves the victim. he can’t put his finger on what it reminds him of but the closest he can come are old zombie movies. she’s made-up to look half dead- which still beats most of them who are just half-alive anyway. her hair looked like rows of shark teeth dyed over dye jobs like she was running away from her natural color. no one wants to be what they are. she looks independent in a very vulnerable way. the safest kind of dangerous. they drove around the city so she could alternate between cigarettes and coffee. they talked about the kids they hated just so they have something to agree about. they used to be just like us. they're sitting on the edge of her bed. every single inch on his body is filled with millions of nerves. somewhere inside his brain neurons have fired to synapses and put them on alert. when his hands brush hers it feels electric. every movement has a meaning, either yes or no. its getting later and later. the conversation and the possibilities are running out. last call. this is a war. every time she moves her hand to her hair she is sending him signals. stay or leave. why can’t he figure them out. don’t strike first. wait until he is tired enough to make a move. lean in to kiss her bringing an awkward break in conversation. as he pulls back she keeps talking about writers and bands she thinks will make her look cooler. but he's fooled if only because he is worried she has found him out. her sheets smell like stale cigarettes smoked by boys who were him on nights before. imagine the chemistry of swallowed DNA. she has a scar that runs down her back right along the spine, like somebody tried to steal it. he joked her like this: “someone must have ignored the blue prints, look at all the structural damage”. but he stuttered and trailed off. the smoke curled off of her lips. for a second he was dying to be it. dying to be as clever and kissable as her. there she was sitting in front of him, knee pulled up to to her chin. smoking a cigarrette thinking of something or someone else. and thats how she will be stuck in his mind forever. two explorers in the dark, mapless and hopeless. alone together. its funny how easy it is to sleep with someone, but how hard it is to sleep next to someone. it’s too intimate. it makes his heartbeat race and pound inside his head. it is deafening. he slides his arm from behind her head and slip out the door. the pavement on the sidewalk is watching him go over every moment in my head. it’s watching him remember her. mistake by mistake. frame by frame. we’re not just taking trips down memory lane, we are broken down on it.

my friend told me, there are veins in brooklyn sick of the constant knocking on them like a door.
if i look up the lights in houses look like stars in the sky, only if i squint hard enough.
if you had told me where i'd be three years ago i would have laughed it off.
i am sure i will do the same in three years when i am making wishes from some gutter somewhere.
i want to be the last thing you think of at nighttime.
i tapped out, i blacked out.
you knew we couldn't last.
it's funny how we only focus on our flaws.
"please tell me the truth, i am addicted to it".
i got new boots so i'd never get cold feet-on thin ice or at the altar.
"when you are very old and very lonely you will understand".
it's designed deep inside of us to be the opposite of what we are
i thank god for the bands, movies, and hearts that make me want to become something better than i am.
your heart beat gets me through the day.

"i'll take the machete, they never run out of bullets..."

the cats got the canary spinning in its ribcage
did i mention i came dressed for the intervention
(and if you were dying soon would you try to find snow in the deep summer, the june bugs dancing in wonderand, i still wonder now if my words will stil turn you inside out)
he's a honey jar with that pretty face, lets never lose the lid
and keep those rosey lips in
(he breathes wet through insect eyes)in multiples of four, no less than sixteen
mr. sandman's been showing his beam when he walks into a room the walls lean in to listen
keep a calendar this way you'll know the last time you came through
oh."i know what youre going through"
well i dont- its more of a "paper or plastic" grocery store choice to me
but i'll sympathize with anything to get through to you
do you know what its like to watch reruns of yourself night after night
to offer nothing and expect everything in return
to cock your head just right to appear arrogantly humble
if we hurry we'll make the morning edition
cause everybody likes to read the bad news
they've tapped the phone, be very careful what you say
speak in code about singing birds and sleepy eyed women
autographs only taught me how to conterfeit signatures on my prescriptions
his head's a junkyard for rusted midnight thought
she's criminally carefree when the pills swallow the worry
he's digging like forty nine, he's making you press rewind
he's a thunderstorm so bright you shut your eyes
he is a hurricane

hypothermia in hell

Dear Whoever, Here's another letter that I'll never send. If you get this ever, I'll be at my most bitter end. The last time we spoke he spit only warm blades and open bombs. Now this ink is running through my veins, so shut the fuck up and try to understand these words no breath could ever hope to carry. He's my last big mistake. He is the new machine. And falling into the new machine seems to be my only way out. To my defeater: don't even bother to read this. I will fail you every single time. The sound of his voice sharpens my flaws into daggers. So let's toast this to my utter loss. The thought of forever disgusts me. Blankets of snow fall deep into failure. The sun is getting dull and I wake up cold and alone. So just give me an ending. Give me one more reason. My concern will not be confused with pity, because pity swiftly turns tolerance into acceptance. And we don't want that to happen.

no one ever fell in love with anyone because of empty pockets or red splotched eyes. drove around for hours tonight just to keep myself from feeling anchored. weighed down. to keep my mind off thinking about what kids like me deserve. desperation isnt a strong enough word (but it will have to do). nothing gets you ready to have every single word dissected and put under a microscope. i got ringing in my ears but none on my fingers. i got sunsets in the veins on my wrists. we’re not just falling in love anymore, we’re demanding it. im the latest bloomer. i can still see you standing on my front porch- slowed my own thoughts down to a single blade of grass. you couldnt catch my eye cause i was too busy rolling them. the buttons on one side of your coat that wouldnt snap on the other side. they were just for fashion not for function you told me. you were pretty for a boy. it made me laugh when i thought of it, im sorry i wasnt laughing at what you were saying. it makes me laugh still- when im walking around for hours at night. i'd love to swerve off and blame it on the fog, but i've been talking on these roads too much lately. they'd spill all my secrets. this city won’t let me go. my lips cracked and dried from the tears, i'll probably die a cliche. provocative. no one will ever sound as cool as you. we built cool. we made up style. we set the standard and they're all just trying to live up to it. if theres nobody who thinks like us anymore. untouchable is unlovable. you always have me humming in my head just out of key. i bought an alarm clock just so i could hit the snooze button. whats the point in getting out of bed anymore if you only get out to say you did. if you could love the biggest fraud or the best liar- then im your princess. i was made just for fashion not for function.

“the heart is deceitful above all other things"

their eyes are like pills. its funny. the blue ones take to you down. the brown ones pick you up. it doesn't even make a whole lot of sense looking back on it now. there are a couple of sets of eyes that are like bookmarks in life. they are there to mark the chapters. highlights so you pay attention to the changes. dogeared pages. the way he looked at me the first time- all the blood ran out of me. with the biggest eyes. that trusted and believed and dreamed and hoped and lived. so i blinked. i faked like i couldnt tell. i was always so goddamned scared to see my own flaws reflected on them. and i cant count the times i crushed them. and you realize that they will never look up at you the same.

i cant blame you for giving up on me.
join the club.

im guessing you are regretting this monster you created. he gave me a prescription and said "these will take take care of your shyness". no one really gets that part though. and who ever wanted you to come out of your shell anyhow. maybe im just pretty sure that i am a total bore. and there's nothing tragic at all, this is (i'm) completely ordinary. and that's whats so tragic. it's so fucking mundane. so while we're all wasting our eyesight on these screens late into the night dying to find some connection to someone- our backs breaking from being hunched over the keyboard- im sending mail addressed to myself just so i get some. im looking in the mirror and dissecting myself, just a smile connected to a pulse, barely connected at that. this wont make any sense when i read it in the morning.

the keyboard is unforgiving. it doesn't have much give. it hates the life inside your fingertips, it is jealous. if youre not careful youre gonna write yourself into a corner... her mom had a heart that served as a trophy case for award winning methheads. i couldnt blame her for how she turned out but id love to shoot the scientist that figured out the connection between geneology and behavioral patterns.. shes a prizefighter past her prime who just wont get out of the ring because its the only thing shes ever known. because you know how the odds stack up. because you know that its just a matter of being faster and hitting harder. you are a wordsmith- imagine the bedside manner of this spin doctor. "sometimes if things are going right you just need to lower your standards". its last call for a shot of conscience...

you remind me of the way things went before all of this.

i've already given up on myself twice; third time is the charm

heroes are there to be loved, but not to love you back. i'm not saying that heroes are a bad idea, even if they do disappoint you in the end. maybe that's what they're there for in the first place. as your heroes fall away and you're left standing, you realize the only person you have to live up to is yourself.

trade baby blues for wide-eyed browns

its strange the things that inform your writing versus the things that do not. its almost as though your words are shaped more by the things you do not say than the things that you do. there are many thoughts that i am scared to write down for many reasons. "the cancer of time is eating us away. our heroes have killed themselves, or are killing themselves. the hero then, is not time, but timelessness...." henry miller. i rock myself back and forth, this is not happening. people walk by. only eyes and smiles. "yeah im doing good". liar. it is a terrible fate to be given up on and only more terrible to give up on someone. the world is going by too fast out the window. it is impossible to even discern if there is a world out there because it is so dark and so fast. but i can only assume that the world did not disappear on me, though i couldnt blame it if it had. my head fades into the violet seat. i push my head to dream of other times but i cant fall asleep. it is pitch black outside but dawn in my insides. woke up again today. i believe i must have a disorder of some kind- or else why would i care about things so but act so carelessly. nevermind anything.

so much different than the way the others gave a windows down summer sun/nostalgia vibe- i guess maybe thats only my own head but this one feels moonlit. the way things are different as they pass in the dark. the way we can be ourselves after dark. love, the stagecoach always turns back into a pumpkin. sometimes love is about getting even. but sometimes it is about how you are the sun and nothing can shine quite as bright as you. nothing is the same at 6 am. somehow the things we say mean more in corners of dancefloors and we focus on love below the waist and outside of the head. "dont you want to get better"- i just dont want you to worry. "dont you want to get better" - tonight i do. the way they say "youre committing slow suicide" when someone lights up or cuts loose. but arent we all. everything we do just shortens our life, every breath is one less. but its what makes everything so treasured. in my head. it aint a funeral babe, i just want the headline to die. recovery is the new drug. in your average week my head lays on so many different pillows. this windowshopped life has me dreaming of a reset button. daylight is your enemy. im in love with lovers who dont love me except under the pale light of the moon. im sleeping in my driveway tonight dreaming of sleeping in snow or gravel or whatever is next to you.... thank god, disappointment has a short shelf life. i want to buy (uni)som(e) sleep but over the counter doesnt cut it whether it be hearts or capsules. wreck it all, one heart at a time. sleepovers are as good at they were 10 years ago. my dog is proof of puppy love. hollywood is a good story. but best friends are better.

sing into a polygraph. its not all its cracked up to be. talking isnt good for anything ever. lets practice our moves until the sun comes up.

so i've said a couple of new years resolutions

But none of them are true.
In the next year I just want to go back to outerspace.
And move back home.

i can give/take all of your problems back/away.

i saw this movie "the science of sleep" tonight.
it made my head swirl.
love and dreams.
i recommend watching it if you get a chance.
the days are starting to end early here now.
photos approved for (mis)use.
songs are just artifacts from a time when i still cared.
now there are country codes to decipher.
returning can take you to pieces.
but home is an idea, not a place.
i always tried to cross the river in oregon trail and it was always a bit too deep for my wagon.
i want a guy that doesnt have time to think things through.
last night i counted numbers until my eyes were stitched shut with sleep.
whats the point of walking the plank on a sinking ship?

this year...

half i cant remember half i spent under something like house arrest...
:/

its funny how what we say changes when it comes to our actions.
actions speak louder than words.
90% of the time the things we do are completely diffrent from what we say..i believe that.
we can be fucking great and be cool as fuck and not be fucked up.
i beleive that.
we can be fast to say "fuck you" but quicker to say i love you.
i believe life can be like a fucked up plane crash killing all but you..raising the same question popping in your head
would you ever fly again?
some tend to fall in holes and are strong enough to pull themselves out.
the weaker tend to crouch down and call the place home.

be the person to laugh at your situation and say yeah i've been there yeah i've done that but..would you do it again?

happy holidays.

right now

the small of my back where my in-ears were taped every night before
mind feels strangely empty.
the world feels unwelcome.
truth be told.
i fucking miss it.
lonely.

maybe this is just my subtle way of making you pay attention to someone else.

it makes me die (laughing) the way how much i look makes your insides tumble.

yesterday i found some old vampire teeth, so i put them on and looked at myself.
is it weird that that was the only time i thought i looked okay in the mirror?

dream fast. love hard.

i'll post again soon.

current occupation: selling fire in hell.

i am happy that you realize love still exists.
it is dark and needs to be dusted off.
maybe i am only happy in this realization in the early a.m.s in the neon lights off tokyo.
maybe i am not happy at all.
im not even too sure myself at times.
why would i ever want my moods to be stabilized.
sometimes you have to break a heart to unbreak your own.
i bleieve in falling in love midsleep.
i believe in dreaming about you on airplanes.
and yeah november spawned a monster, but so did whatever month wer'e in right now.
loving leap years cause with them ill be gone sooner.
if i had a penny to my name id throw it down a wishing well.
im best when im making things worse.
lets go out tonight and make some bad decisions.
i miss my friends. truly.
you got my voicemail
"leave a message im out..."
having the time of my life.
love.

found my old notebook

i dont know if has been apparent or not but in the past year or so i have become so insecure its insane. it blows my mind everytime i leave the house i feel weird. strange. i feel like everything i do ruins something of my friends or my family i love. i feel like i am constantly on the defense, like i have to work so hard just to make people not hate me that i am not even myself. i havent been able to look myself in the eyes. but for some reason tonight that all changed. i felt the electricity. the light came back on. it felt so good. thank you to all that were there for me. sorry. not trying to be a downer or a "poor me" kind of thing, its just been a weird adventure. it feels good to plug back in. this journal entry was one i wrote a year ago this week when i think i was pretty sure id die at age 13 (glad i didnt):"i couldnt stay away. the words are obsession and always have been. heartache lite. diet love. i am a catch and release kid. kind of. put summer in a pine box. i went to sleep in june and woke up in the middle of september .love is incidental. the best verus the rest. 'they wipe their feet on our dreams'. ive got lies hiding in the smile wrinkles of my eyes. the real ones and the fake ones take up the same space in the skin. no one gives a fuck about eyes that are always leaking. its become apparent that there may be no one thinking of you the way i do at this very moment. we're "out of the woods", but i am in love with the tree i used to lie under. eyes green with envy or brown and full of shit. or somewhere in between. i want this to be a remix of our nighttimes."the smiles lately have all been real. except sometimes its hard to smile when theres a camera in your fae and your just trying to get through the day. gonna try to fuck up less. nothing poetic about it: maybe things are about to get better, maybe theyre gonna get darker. i am in love with everything that is broken and sometimes i like it that whats broken is in love with me."

these are just other ones that i thought were a little interesting"

"the lights on the hill look like christmas lights on a tree, more like through a window. i almost feel welcome. people treat hearts like cars. we are always trying to trade up. it feels good being a new car. but it always feels strange driving back onto the lot when you know you are being traded in. how you doing- is all a matter of who is asking. the opposite of lullabyes. thank you for bringing me back to life."

"fell asleep in the mirror the other day, sick to death of comparing myself. every word has already been written. every government has been done. every hairstyle has been tried. but give me some time, dont write me off yet. im not always the person i want to be-but you make me want to be her. silly girl all this is ever gonna get you is carpal tunnel and bad eyesight-but i wish i was the mirror reflecting you back so i could make your eyes look carefree. the words are all over the place, but you are lightning in a bottle. i am in love with the accents in south america-the streets are museums, the culture is breathing- alive. rolling 'r's is way cooler than rolling your eyes. the way i think of you is billboard big, only i could never tell anyone. last night i had a dream that we were breathing underwater. our love will go down (in history). i hope the keys keep clicking, the kids keep singing-its all "if they could see us now"s versus "they'd be spinning in their grave". penned in on all sides. lets split town. its always "i dont care what anyone thinks" except everyonse always does. and "better in the long run" always means sleeping alone now. stop trying to save me. except if you ever did i dont know what id do with myself. silly girl youre just dying to be tragic silly girl youre just dying to be tragic silly girl youre just dying to be tragic silly girl youre just dying to be tragic silly girl youre just dying
time for sleep."

"i am in love with observing. off the strip is the best. there is an old man at the bar, he carries his years in his eyes. he drinks gin and tonic, only he calls them "g&t's". he is a true believer, a die hard. all the addicts and pushers are sitting in pews somewhere. he speaks to me about a love and a life that has taken 50 years to figure that he cant figure it out. buzzing and lights. there is a HIPSter docked on the bench next to me. he drinks vodka straight with out mixers, because the monsters in his closet are calories. i wonder how many he burns with his constant running mouth. here no one wants to be what they are. i watch waiters run their lines. nothing changes here but peoples hair color. writing here hurts my head. but i am addicted. honest to god, its like taking a picture of a ghost. im always walking home head down, talking myself to pieces. smile at the grass pushing up through the cracks in the sidewalk. a teammate. sometimes i look at my reflection in car windows and say "worry on your own time". etc. etc."

"been writing in the real journal lately. paper and ink. hey emilee, how'd you get yourself turned so inside out? this city feels like a lull. in weather, in love, in time, in life. 'all you sensetive thugs need hugs'. i can love you in hour increments. i can give/take all your problems back/away. i want to be bright enough to blind you. think of all the love i have behind my eyelids waiting for you to wake up. dream fast. wish hard. truefuckinglove."

"heroes love heroines. i dream of lying in backyards with you in the a.m.'s-the geneva convention of romance. i work vampire hours thinking of you. the rings around my eyes are simply the proof .and when the planets align even the mercury specks in our eyes match."

i still can't believe i found that notebook
it makes me want to write more
although i feel like the passion in my heart is kind of on a minimum right now
can't ever get the right words flowing
but i guess ill try harder

isn't it ironic how "ironic" has no ironies in it

and then came a baby girl with olive skin, and daddy said "you gotta show the world the thunder".
im mad, not in the raging way but more like in the unstable way. you think youre gonna stop me now. youre down on the ground and im gonna kick that last belief out of your mouth
and your parents bedroom is just armor you cant wear anymore and i dont shine like i did before. even the young ones become irrelevant by yesterday, they always bring up how i changed and i did at least twice a day. never the same person when i go to sleep or when i wake. we are all fighting growing old in hope of a few more minutes to turn it around and make st. nicks list. we are all just cave paintings, pinch yourself just to know you exist. theres a statute of limitations on the lawns of attractions, dont forget. lower your standards cause it aint gonna get any better than this. me and my "coffin sized friends", we're only fighting over the seat with the best view to watch the end. when i die please make me a legend so i dont have to come back and try again. look down, anyone can play a bad hand. god himself wouldnt understand my plans. im in production of reduction:artificially sweetened limelight. pryed so many shells open but only found sand inside. a wasp's wings are as good as a moths when theyre both in the pool turned upsidedown. ive got an obsession with legacy, being murdered, and seaside towns. ive screamed my insides out. im pretty sure i could live until forever and not know anyone

------------------------------------------

life is steady. dont fail me.

ill stick out the rounds and wait for the count.

i love you.

crowd surf off a cliff.

eyes are the window to the soul and the lights in my house are always dimmed. everyones glued to that face of yours and only i know its all a mask. feeling like a black crow in a herd of geese flying south for the winter. of course, its more like north for the summer for me. avoiding mirrors for fear of looking myself in the eye to see what ive become.

doesnt matter which way the wind is blowing cause my heart always ends up being carried back to you.