I'm not deaf in my right ear anymore! And I can play a song!

Sleep calls.

..........................

I haven't been eating lunch these past few days.

.. ..

I'm just not sure. things have been less comfortable lately.

.. ..

I've been less comfortable lately.

.. ..

.. ..

When we're actually hanging out, things don't feel
uncomfortable. I love it. When it's happening. For about a day or so, I don't
understand how I could have any sort of doubt.

.. ..

then it slowly sinks in, and I feel uncomfortable. Maybe
that's what friendship does. It sucks all the comfort and good from life, and
concentrates it in moments, instead of days or weeks. Hopefully not years. I
don't like things that last a really long time, unless they last forever, like
the universe.

.. ..

I don't know.

.. ..

I just don't know.

.. ..

It's like, your a fundamentalist, or you don't believe in
anything. Which is worse?

.. ..

I don't often write like this. Just plain talking. You know.

.. ..

here in the city I can't see the stars that well.

.. ..

I remember...

.. ..

I remember alot of things.

.. ..

But I also think about the future.

.. ..

I want to go to ....Denver.....

.. ..

....Denver....
is a good place. It treated me well. It's not ....Santa Barbara..... It seems like no matter what
happens, it's not ....Santa Barbara....,
so I can take comfort in that.

.. ..

I used to think about it as a place to run away to, squat
at, and live life on the edge in. Then I said no, I'm gonna get a job and be
boring.

.. ..

.. ..

I think of ....Denver....
as a place to arrive at, to explore. A place to live, a place to find myself.

.. ..

A place to find people. A general region where I will make
albums, or maybe paint.

.. ..

Like this comic I read about a man going to brighton, to
write.....

.. ..

Brighton is a suburb of ....Denver.........

.. ..

Maybe, Hannah and Angie can come by with their Rv and I can
show them the ranch, if it isn't sold off by then. If it is, a part of me will
die inside.....

.. ..

And yet, I know I'll have to go this alone. ....

.. ..

I know I want to die there, too.....

.. ..

I know I want to experience every kind of experience I can.....

.. ..

And if I die in a war, my last words will be ‘Willie
McBride.’....

‘

Oh, you don't feel so good?

Well Nigel, you'll have to do as we say. It required.

I'm sorry. this heart is taken. try again next month.

Why does no one understand where I'm coming from?

Why does no one understand the simple quest for acceptance from a single person, one who knows you?


Why can't I leave?


Why does my writing read so shitty?

I need a place that I feel good at. A place to root myself in and grow.

I've seen people change so much, so fast.

Some for the better, some for the worse, and some I just don't know.

Why am I the despondent, stupid, depressed teenager I see in the movies?

It's so fucking cliche I want to kill myself in this complicated nightmare.

I don't lean on a person. I don't lean on an ideology or a place.

I don't have this shit to lean on.

All I have is memories of night time and forest. grass and trees.


People don't like me, or they see me as strange, because they don't understand what makes me go, why I think the way I do. What has shaped me.

I come off as "smiley". I smile when I am uncomfortable.

When I am really uncomfortable, I act like I have alot on my mind, like I'm busy.

If I'm okay, I look calm and deep.

If I'm happy, I might be musical, or try to be comical.

Beyond that...



I know, but I can't act.

Odile and Yvette are at the edge of the world.

And I don't know where I am.

Watch these things evolve like a species.

Watch the colors of the sky changing.

Notice how the beginning of one thing and the end of another never completely coincide?

Shut the fuck up.

How can you defend the war?

"Oh, it's not like Iraq."

How? Oh, yeah. Oh, bush isn't running it.

So becuase it's a "black man", and a liberal, you'll defend his war?

Go run to your fucking cult leader. You really can't think critically, can you?

IT DOESN'T MATTER WEATHER IT'S BUSH OR NOT.

FUCK OBAMA.

Yeah, I said it. Oh, and I'm not racist either.

I'm also not a republican.

I'm anti-war.

And I use my brain.

It was
nice to share the moment
but i think I'm alive
I think I need a change of scenery,
I do.
It was ncie to talk the memories away
but I think I need something harsh.
Understanding, but harsh.
bend
to my will.
I see through my eyes drunk in a wooden kitchen a thousand miles away
a girl with a piercing bends down and talks to me.

Changing rhythm as we walk downstream to the edge of the rooftops
jump into a dream.

I like her.

peircings.

I want her.

mohawk.

she gets me

ghost.

I am not awake, she does not exist.

I suppose we could make a good pair.

....................

In the dark when I was dreaming, I realized that I was not
awake.

.. ..

I looked at my hand as it rested on the cold concrete. I
could see the wrinkles and it moved accordingly. The sun shined down on the
concrete just like real life…

.. ..

I knew what was going to happen.

.. ..

So I tried to get away.

.. ..

But the men in the uniforms came to take me anyway.

.. ..

They said something about my watch.

As a targeted public official, I informed them something about
them letting me have the watch.

Gosh, what was wrong with them?

.. ..

I was on tv in the parking lot in front of my house.

.. ..

French tv.

I said to kill the government. They shut me off. I could
tell because there were tv screens in the sky all around me.

.. ..

Do you know that you are still dreaming, my friend?

I never woke up today.

We were hiding on the main road near will’s house.  In front of the field, you know?

It was a group of us. Children. Living there in the crass
trees.

Every hour a bus would drive by and shoot us with a strange gun.
“Kids!” The driver would say.

We had to hide. If we all did it right, it would work. No
shooting.

.. ..

If not….

.. ..

.. ..

It was a strange kind of fear I had. I didn’t understand it.

I never woke up. Haven’t since Tuesday. Jeezus.

Why, yes, assorted media, I do in fact think the drama would
make great poetry. Thank you for the Idea!

.. ..

I don’t know if crying ever felt so strange. I felt like I was
being born. Just me and Darnielle, at first. Me and him in a forest, or a
hospital somewhere until an evil and disturbing force come in to wreck the
balance of life.

Sheesh. 

.. ..

I imagine you here.

....................

In the city of mental conflict and visual death.

My foot is asleep and the muscle can’t even move. It’s
scary, like a nightmare where you can’t talk, but you need your mother. My mother.
Our mothers.

Plural and possessive.

Pulsing and obsessive

The vileness, the vulnerability… the never-ending passion
and hope.. the vast capability of cruelty and mental sickness.

Are we a
collective human mind?

Life is a needle on a homemade scarf, weaving in and out
between me and us.

Your love is like a visit from a spirit in a field at night.

 Lifting me up and
leaving me scared.

Retracing in my mind, it’s like a photo copy. Each time less
sweet, more time lets hurry.

Being able to express is like a fish in water.

We can finally breathe, let’s live this together.

I can see around me, the clouds look like castles.

The heaven’s are a kingdom with conflict and joy.

A spiritual life up there on its own.

High up and away from the rest of the world.

All tribal people sit and wonder.

While the cars snake past too fast around a hill,

I sit and wonder, a tribal person still?

....................

......................................

Today the internet wasn’t working, so I just put on some
really deep music and looked at pictures from ....Colorado.....

.. ..

Some of them gave me very uncomfortable feelings, and some
of them made me feel warm. They gave me a feeling of peace, like I was free.
Beauty.

.. ..

Pictures from ..California..
don’t really make me feel horrible, but it’s like ..Colorado..
was a fantasy, and every day in ....California....
is a reminder that I am not a little kid anymore, and that fantasy is just
fiction. That magic isn’t real.

.. ..

But ....Colorado....
wasn’t a fantasy. I mean, in some ways it was, I suppose. It’s getting worse.
More houses, more roads. But that feeling of really loving your surroundings,
feeling free;

.. ..

It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever felt.

It is a connection with the earth that is much deeper than
anything I have ever experienced in ....California.....

.. ..

..California.. and ....Colorado....….

.. ..

When the people and situations of ..Colorado..
got uncomfortable, I yearned for ....California.....
My friends. No cowboys, no evil grandfathers or other Searles to worry about. ....California.... had Mexicans.
Caje. My bike. Seriously. At least some other people who don’t totally suck. In
Carp, I feel, or used to feel, that I was completely home, not a guest. It was
my turf, you couldn’t fuck with me there. In Carp I didn’t feel powerless and
alienated all the time. In Carp I could breathe.

.. ..

And that’s what it came down to. Because of the stupid
fucking cowboys, and my fucking grandfather, and the O.K. from my freaking mom,
I couldn’t breathe. Once again, I was the complete minority. Once again, forced
to work, sleep, and eat with complete strangers who I didn’t even like, with
little pay and no permission fromme. And of course, I would rather be
completely alone than be the one man minority show.

 

And yet….

.. ..

That snow…. Those trees. The land. The sky. The earth. It’s
somewhere deep inside me, and it will never die.

.. ..

.. ..

.. ..

.. ..

.. ..

.. ..

.. ..

.. ..

.. ..

I would like to thank Cheyanne and Heather, the two people
who actually extended honest kindness and friendship, in what was otherwise a
completely shitty summer last year. Also to Zip. Hello! Oh, also to Joanie,
Kyla, and Eylish(sp?), who talked to me on the phone. I love you guys!

.. ..

And, I would like to send out a “fuck you” to the following
people:

Justin(maybe), that other guy who was Justin’s landlord
(it’s a good sign I forgot his name), Grandpa Stan(unfortunately), asshole
Christian conservative cowboys, the stupid horse people at latigo trails, ....Ellicott.. ..Baptist.. ..Church....,
and all housing developers.  FUCK YOU!!
EAT SHIT, ASSHOLES! FUCKING DIE!!! I HOPE YOU FUCKING BURN IN YOUR NON EXISTANT
HELL!

ANARCHY!!!! NATIVE POWER!!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA!!!


Edit, Febuary 13th: GARY LAKE!!! THAT'S YOUR NAME!!!

FUCK YOU!!!

FUCK YOU, GARY LAKE!!!!

I used your computer when you were gone. hahaha...

Frustrated and restless, angry at the lack of what should be and the small range of posibilities, the vastess of inbetween. vast. Inbetween. It swallows you whole, dosn't it? Stay up late, trying. Walk trying? Die trying. Fuck trying. God damn it love me. Just do it. God damn it, I'm not even tactfully refraining from naming a specific person for privacy reasons. No one to write about but Eli, Sarah, a boring situation, and really good music. Seriously. Heed the warning of a lost time.
Lost


memories.

fading...
away.

And away we go.