"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.

song in my head

"be there or be square."
i think i'd rather be square.

latchkey princess

what has this become?
a question only countered in some monster movie madness.
sometimes spewed out just before the
signal down.
the wizard of oz in reverse.
from color to black and white.
i am completely obsessed with everyone who is completely unobsessed with me.
or sometimes with life.
and by life i dont mean heartbeats and breathing.
i mean 9 to fives and becoming the suburbs.
the complete fuck off of it all being that i am completely obsessed with backyards, christmas trees and lemonaid stands.
its like the northshore is my heaven,
the valley is my golden gates.
excuse me for nodding off.
always boring myself to death.
take a chill pill.
the story of my life.
take a vote, the eyes have it.
but the knives have our back.
i dont even remember saying goodbye to you.
happiness is the sand in the sea. its just a percentage of a percentage inside a body of water,
life is just a crocodile with a ticking clock inside of it chasing captain hook.
just wanna dip my toe into death to see if its a warm bath.
anytime anything breaks me open i just spit out a fortune.
if it means anything i spend my time with a bunch of people who ignore the vibrant sky and just look for the pot of gold at the end.
addicted to addiction.
if i bashed your head in how good would the secrets be that poured out.
i feel like a penny turned up the wrong way.
put me in the bowl in front of the register anyway.
let me change someones day.

you have logged out successfully

"your hand is holding the trigger to my heart" and i'm sick of all the cliche's i hear and say. i'm tired of you and your smile. wake me up before i fall asleep. keep me awake before i die. you've got all that passion in your head and none in your heart. maybe that's a good thing. i know too much about that. i only wish i could hate you. maybe a few more scars down the road, baby...

they only pose questions like: what makes you tick?
we throw back whatever. So here’s to fresh starts.
I wanna know what it’s like to live out of a suitcase.
To not be tied down by thoughts and authority.
been staying up lately thanks to you and ideas.
if you cut me open i am the single most regular person that has ever existed.
it scares me.
it electrifies me.
I keep the radio on loud so I don’t feel alone.
I’m ready to be remembered, but keep me away from the inside of your head.
we are bricks on gas pedals.
we are the ink on forged checks.
i will make you mine and then forget you.
my head is too crowded for the company.
He told me I belong in a hospital so I can forget who I am.
Jokes on him.
I never really knew who I was.

obsessions

I am sure i have been loved. I have obsessed over love. the kind of love of getting in and out of trouible. I have hoped for love that is beyond you being caught by me or me trying to slip through the cracks. I hope for a love that is like astronomers who desribe distant planets. Even as experts it is a too far off to even properly calculate no matter how much you adore it. And I am no expert. When was the last time you felt proud of me? Then i ask myself,when was the last time I did anything worth your pride? When was the last time I was moved, not like a piece in a board game but like a piece in a heart. Or life. When was the last time I didn't see the world in an "you always stick your neck out" or "can't catch a break" kind of way. You are the kind they cut off ears for and start wars over. You are a distant planet, no one would get from afar. You are the dream that I can't remember but can't forget. You are the trap door magicians never reveal. You're my last trick. You're my grand finale.

You’re like america’s next top nightmare,
But replace “america” with “my”.
It’s not like you woud know anyway.
You’re like the dream you can always remember
But can’t wait to forget.
I’m like one of those movies you buy in a hotel with every button but rewind.
have at it.
your jokes turn into fake smiles.
fake people.
it doesn’t matter.
i can’t ever get the right words to the right people.
its hard being careless, even harder to be carefree.
Wish I was the first,
But I’m just the second.
Kind of like in life.
tricking yourself into thinking you matter enough for someone to remember to forget you is the best kind of magic of all.
my mouth moves faster than my head ever could and lets not even speak of the words at my finger tips.
they are never thought through.
they just come and come. like light under the door.
If you gave me a course I’m sure I could find some way to come off of it.
Don’t try and argue with manics.
it’s not worth your breath.
Growing up is becoming old,
I wanna be a kid again.
With the new beginnings and “everything’s possible”.
i am always leaving you high and dry.
i am always leaving you out in the cold.
because i am regular. minus all of this.
If anyone ever really knew me, they'd string me up and leave me as a sign of what not to become.
How not to turn out.
There isn't a goddamned thing that sparkles in my eyes anymore.
There isn't magic in there.
Can't even put a sentence together.
Hurt the ones you love.
Love the ones you hurt.
If you looked inside you'd see artifacts that'd proved I once gave a fuck.
Daydreams of love. They beg for an inch and take a mile.

i'm gonna set you free

we've been indoctrinated to crave the idea of the extraordinary ordinary we love to hate everything in other people that we hate about ourselves. arrogantly insecure and vice versa. and life lately is just always about the spins and collateral damage. in love with the idea of permanent impermanence. so careful of stuttered over articulation, as though saying the word better would somehow make it mean more. the worlds worst kind of diary. pulled the pause button off of every electronic gadget in my home-i despise it. strangely fulfilled by the idea of loving strangers and hating my few remaining friends. how there had to be an inkling in the head of neal armstrong to just stay on the moon and wait for the air to run out, besides the fact thats what we are all doing sort of in the long run only he'd have a better view.

sleepless in seattle-i wish.

when they rip the tickets i hope i'm on the ride with you. sleepless in seattle and pretty much everywhere else-won't bore you with the details, but actually i probably will. you don't have to be a train to come off track. don't have to have feathers to flee the coop. i don't gotta tell you about my adventures, i keep them in my head and forget them and remember them every once in awhile. i watch them on projector screens while you are talking about your magazine or countdown. were flypaper baby-but nothings sticks. molded from teflon and porcelain. doesn't take much shining around for you to want to get back under that rock you crawled out from. i found a point when i was searching for pointlessness. i found a love when i was looking for madness. gonna save your sweat for when we get to heaven. autocratic hearts and throats-tongues loving on the skin and words-listening too carefully and robbing them of their beauty. you only think i'm blooming when im wilting on the outside. dying to be dearly forgotten, not wrongly remembered. you dont have to sell me on how this isnt real, cause my guts are whats in deep not my head or my heart. sometimes i get the feeling when i walk into a room like i'm in some movie from the forties where i've been shipwrecked and marooned on a desert island, only to return to a life that is no longer mine. or maybe just a raft adrift, except i slept through the s.o.s. calls. i'm projecting. i'm bobbing and weaving. i'm deflecting. only because i want to mean more than all of this.

pooh vs piglet

remember this is real. even when your head is spinning and your heart is fluttering. we are on the inside. the cage spins the bird free. dont for a second think i have forgotten you or the way you make me smile on gray days or in stormy weather.