MySpace

(time+tragedy=comedy.) words for pictures.

MySpace | > rss | Connexion
Serendipity Jones



Dernière mise à jour : 20/11/2009

> Email
> Message instantané
> Partage avec un ami
> Souscrire

Sexe : Female
Statut : Célibataire
Age : 31
Zodiaque: Vierge

Ville : Indiana
Région : Pennsylvania
Pays: US

Souscriptions
sami
Annie M. Vicar
PORKMUFFIN
Dani
Kraven
Corporate Whore
bee
strangebird
laydee bugg
Captain Midnight

Archive du blog
[Plus ancien      Plus récent]
 /  / 
[05 janv. 2010 | mardi] 5:11

Humeur actuelle :the winter cicada
well, myspace. i believe another chapter finally closes for this woman. she's done a lot of growing up and its time to move on, i suppose. this year feels like the right time to put so many things behind me. i remember what it felt like when i thought i'd found whatever it was i was looking for. now, i know better not to look. that thing'll find me in its time. that has, after all, been what this was about, right?

whatever it has been and whatever it hasn't...its been lovely nonetheless.
for those of you coming with me, the new chapter can be found here: gossamer restraints.

be well, old stories. keep safe and stay tied up in those old ribbons for afternoons when i'll need to find you again.
Actuellement j'écoute:
Shine: The Best of the Early Years
Par David Gray
Date de publication : 2007-04-03
 
0 Comm.
(Ajouter un commentaire) |
Traduire
[28 déc. 2009 | lundi] 4:56

Humeur actuelle :now this is living.
nowhere to go, really. no place i've got to be. this is a dreadful feeling for now. i've got entirely too much time to think. didn't i have time to think before? strange. i feel like thats all i've done for three years: think. now i have time to think about what i want to think about and my mind plays tricks on me.

sorting out priorities, making lists. i'm not sure that i know what i want...from the world, from my future, from these fellas. 

i crave sweetness and companionship and set myself up for stupid encounters like early november's. i want hand holding and dinner-making and talking and not-talking. 

i want to make this pie thing happen. i catch myself already selling myself short. perhaps it comes from comparing myself to other (to me, more terrific) women...i remind myself to be good at what i'm good at, to do what i love. 

i want a job in the city and to move to the city again. 

these are goals. some, smaller than others...none insurmountable. 

in the meantime, though, i'm chasing my tail with worry, excitement, and a nice blend of fear and courage. here we go.
Actuellement j'écoute:
Realism
Par The Magnetic Fields
Date de publication : 2010-01-26
 
0 Comm.
(Ajouter un commentaire) |
Traduire
[23 déc. 2009 | mercredi] 3:40

Humeur actuelle :this business of time and wounds
it was three years ago, today. i have a picture of our faces from just before i took you to the airport to catch a plane that took you away for (what i am sure now) will be forever. strange that i think you knew it would be that long when you left. empty i-love-yous from your camp...i recognize their emptiness now, i can hear it in the tone of your voice which i cannot forget. my best friend was there, awkwardly avoiding our sad goodbyes. he and others were left to pick up the pieces. i am forever grateful. 

so here we are, three years. three difficult, scary, tremendous, blessed years. some people use holidays and january firsts to mark their progresses but since that day, i suppose i've considered this my little new year's day. i put on that last mix, still saved, and try to remember what i was trying to get across to you. it seems that, sadly, for the most part, i've forgotten. but then, this is how it goes, doesn't it?

do you remember that valentine's day when you sent me that mix? such hope, such promise then. it seems so long ago (because it was) and i can't quite remember the details. how many details have slipped away? i thought i could hold on; i thought i would remember everything. now, i just have the good things to carry with me. the knot in my throat when i think of it loosens and sometimes, it is as though i speak of the dead. 

but this year isn't about basking in that broken heart or honoring the business of your leaving and, subsequently, breaking my heart  more wholly than any man that came before you. this isn't about that anymore. i've forgiven you that just as i've forgiven myself. her. (strange that i actually like her more than you these days, isn't it?)

in three years, i've accomplished so much. not one degree but two. i've learned that the people that surround me are tremendous souls. my family, my closest friends...amazing people that never let me sink so completely that i won't get up again. i've lived on my own and managed, i've lived with these men and managed. all of that craziness, all of that sorrow...its just gone somehow and i don't know when it disappeared. i can't remember the last time i wanted to throw something. i've accumulated, for all of my wars and pain and heartache, a great deal of peace to keep closely, too. 

i'm cooking again...and baking, too. when you left for school, i've realized, i started selling my own homegrown skills so short. i let myself stop believing in myself so that i could believe in you and did it long enough that i forgot to start believing in myself again. i've got that back and i'm braver, stronger, and wiser for all of it. and cooking...well, it was never your love, i don't think. it was just a thing you needed...and i won't even tell you i told you so. i think you know. for me, its my love. the thing that lights me up. i've discovered something about me lately, petals relaxing to reveal this heart.

everything i wanted then was wrong. letting you go proved to be the wiser choice (and i knew it then as i know it now.) letting you go meant letting me get a better hold on myself. 

i love who i've become in three years, toby. i don't know if i could love the person you've become because i simply don't know that person and i know that i'll really never get the chance. i persist, i follow dreams that i don't think i would have let myself follow (let alone voice) back then. this, though, was probably just the natural ebb of growing up. i see so much of you-from-then in myself and i'm thankful for it.

so yes. in the sunlight glare on the snow of this little northeastern town...a town that held nothing for you, you said, neglecting to notice that this town had me...here in this little town where i'm spending this last winter before finally leaving it behind, a few tears will freeze and disappear. i'll drink a glass of wine. i'll remember. and tomorrow morning, i'll go back to my real life. i can love again. i can live. i'm determined to do it all.

so far we've gone now on separate paths. this is the day that i spend being proud of both of us. it was the right thing. i know that now.
Actuellement j'écoute:
Under Cold Blue Stars
Par Josh Rouse
Date de publication : 2002-02-19
 
0 Comm.
(Ajouter un commentaire) |
Traduire
[17 déc. 2009 | jeudi] 4:20

Humeur actuelle :turning cartwheels
i am fairly certain i'm doing it again but i'll see how it plays out. too many times too sure a thing and a girl sees her own patterns when  her thoughts retrace her footsteps. at least he's quite cute, right? but two days too soon to be too distracted. so this is the girl i end up being? is that right? not sure where this goes and not ready to ask...and if its as i think will i be so interested? i'm not even sure what i'm looking for here but there is this first feeling in the morning that is becoming familiar and frequent that reminds me how much i appreciate this autonomy in a way that i certainly didn't at first, did i? but this thing is three years time removed and i come and go as i please...but this comes with the cost of sleeping alone at night, waking up to a cold room with no shared heat spooning close. i weigh this out, observe. what am i willing to give up to keep things as they are while managing subtle changes that bring some welcome change? my mother, i suspect, didn't mean this when she said to date them all but see none of them. i think. i weigh. i debate. i consider the facts judiciously, meticulously. 

in the back of my mind, i remind myself of that monday morning drive home. the heavy hearted feeling of knowing what i'd done...and what i hadn't done. the latter, consolation. it was the only comfort i had, wasn't it? that camp remains silent. i remind myself to have few expectations and to not get attached. i remain aloof. 

admittedly, there is one for who my heart has slowly warmed but then...i shake it off. there are better things to think about. is this the kind of woman i'll be? i've yet to meet my match.

the bar tonight, one beer. an arrangement to sell a pie and discourse about backing for my little baking dreams...is this when things start falling into place? i'll suspend judgement for the time being...wait and see.
Actuellement j'écoute:
Sharpen Your Teeth
Par Ugly Casanova
Date de publication : 2002-05-21
 
0 Comm.
(Ajouter un commentaire) |
Traduire
[14 déc. 2009 | lundi] 4:06

Humeur actuelle :molehills out of mountains
have i done anything this weekend besides watching bible movies and working out their implications for the feminists? no, not really. 

i've got a presentation tomorrow (the bible films), a handful of one-page response papers, two take-home finals, one paper, and one in-class final and then i'm done, done, done. still, this pile of work to be done feels somewhat insurmountable for the time being. 

i'll get it done. i always get it done. i'm so tired, physically exhausted.

i keep reminding myself that this is it for awhile...until grad school. relish it, enjoy it, remember it. 

so close.
Actuellement j'écoute:
Red Letter Year
Par Ani DiFranco
Date de publication : 2008-09-30
 
0 Comm.
(Ajouter un commentaire) |
Traduire
[12 déc. 2009 | samedi] 2:44

Humeur actuelle : honoring the fates.
okay, okc. you and i are taking a break. 

disabled (not deleted...god, not that) the okc account for now. i think thats a good thing. we'll see how it lasts. but really, i've gone about as far as i can go with it. no more entertaining questions to answer. meh. indifference. 

life on the cusp, on the very edge of becoming something else...what am i compromising?

really, what am i looking for?
no more looking.
well, at least not for now.


Actuellement j'écoute:
Our Endless Numbered Days
Par Iron & Wine
Date de publication : 2004-03-23
 
0 Comm.
(Ajouter un commentaire) |
Traduire
[10 déc. 2009 | jeudi] 11:09

Humeur actuelle :to that which must be done!
"oh, itunes. come on, now. i thought i made myself clear."

(itunes always knows better. itunes is on to me.)

i put on yo-yo ma. i give it a good run, set the pace. this equates with me saying, "itunes, honey, its time to get some seriously cerebral work done here, please. let's get started" i sit down, i work. eventually, i need something else. holtz just never does the trick for paper-writing. i'd rather leave it to the muses, in a lot of ways.

itunes generally behaves well (and has, reliably, for years.) until this week. instead, i'm getting the impression that itunes has a more realistic idea about what's up with me, i think. someone has been informing on me. i put on the yo-yo ma. i expect itunes will do its thing but no. 

see, karen (my ipod) has been telling itunes a thing or two about me and i'm not entirely sure if i should be a fan of this whispering between them. karen knows me in a way that itunes doesn't in that she comes with me nearly everywhere. the car, the bike trail, the walk to school and around on errands. she is with me when the weather is beautiful and i'm feeling its equal and i want to listen to something funky or am straight up dancing my butt off. she is with me when the weather is loathsome and i want something a little more desolate, laden with lyrical longing. 

it isn't even so much that karen selects the music for my mood as she knows what i'm up to. we have a schedule. that little knocker inside her that works as a pedometer might have something to do with it...i speculate. the point is, karen knows what i'm feeling and doing, or so it seems. itunes only seemed to know what i was doing before. now it knows what i'm feeling.

and so the peaceful, quiet, mind-clearing music that usually corresponds with my paper-writing is not so forthcoming but rather, lyrical roller coasters that captivate my head, imagination; i am distracted from my will to keep still and read rather than dance. unlike the gerbils at the gym, i am no good at reading while bobbing my head, admittedly. i keep stopping my work to redirect, to scold itunes. 

i've come very close to making a solid 'paper-writing' playlist from which itunes will be forced to select. this is, in effect, akin to me grounding itunes for bad behavior. it seems that itunes is also antsy to be done with this. to start thinking about a future. to accompany my poetry reading (and recent attempts at writing again.) to highlight my cooking. to assist in the upcoming die-hard job search. to do the deep clean on the house--windows, wall-washing, and all. itunes is ready to get started on the much hoped-for Era of Awesome. 

"wait, itunes. it is nearly time. just lets keep to the task on hand, yes?"

one of us has to keep it together, right? i try to keep my desires and distractions in check for the time being.

(still, i have to tell you: this whole new three-way relationship with itunes, karen, and i   does much to warm--however slightly--my cold, cold robot-girl heart . <3)
Actuellement j'écoute:
Alabama Chicken
Par Sean Hayes
Date de publication : 2008-03-18
 
0 Comm.
(Ajouter un commentaire) |
Traduire
[10 déc. 2009 | jeudi] 5:26

Humeur actuelle :just below surface
there are moments when i can feel it, palpable. i twist; i stretch. a brittle shade of rubbery like a sand bucket left out for a summer of sunny afternoons. splitting. i could very nearly peel it off of me if i knew where to get a good hold of it. 

something is coming off; there is a skin thats screaming to be shed.

not so long ago, i think i had the sense that something was changing and i think i was right in that...here i am, on the cusp of completing the first real thing i've ever put my mind to and i feel like i'm choking, faltering, sputtering. i am admittedly apprehensive of what comes next but i hardly have time to think of it now. 

something has clicked in the last few days, perhaps. click, click. 

putting myself to it, getting things done as systematically as i can manage like this. i can manage. i always manage. 

i feel as though i see things for what they are and despite all the beauty i see when i really look, i feel deeply disappointed by people these days. i am equally guilty of disappointing others, to be sure. 

slipping something here. 
more logic, less emotion...does that have to mean less compassion?

i'm not so sure these days.
Actuellement j'écoute:
Kid A
Par Radiohead
Date de publication : 2000-10-03
 
0 Comm.
(Ajouter un commentaire) |
Traduire
[09 déc. 2009 | mercredi] 4:47

Humeur actuelle :not so old.
finished my first paper.
one exam tomorrow, one paper due that will come a day late with a five point penalty. 

i weighed in on this, studied the first half of my material for the exam. i have tomorrow afternoon to study the second half. i needed a break. the weather warned me, woke me...double advisories means its time for me to play. when did i become this weather geek? i think they were laughing with me (but possibly at me) when i tried to explain the beauty in the radar map, this thing pushing its way across the great plains...everything swirls. 

ashley and nick were headed to my favorite corner bar and so i put on my corduroy jacket...the one that i don't mind so much when it smells like the bar...and pulled my scarf around my neck and headed for the brown hotel. when i drink, i like to drink at the brown. the faces are familiar. 

_________________________________
Brown No. 1

i needed that. 
just one beer
or maybe two
or better yet
a four dollar pitcher--
i needed that.
too many cigarettes 
but something
has to 
change 
and soon
or we'll all
end up tripping
over each other like
so many roller skaters
piled up
on top 
of the 
one who 
went first.
i needed that.
just a pitcher
split two
or three
ways,
filling up the empty cups
and i look around here
and i know that
this is where i
should be
on a tuesday night
with an 
epic storm headed
right.
for.
us. 
i look around
and there are
three incarnations
of me
and two of you
and three of you
but its not the beer
its just that 
we've been here
too long,
we're not supposed
to be here
we're not supposed
to let them see us
a linchpin in the works
if they do--
they're the us 
of the present
and we are 
their futures
just one beer.
maybe two.
maybe a pitcher 
split between anyone
who'll share one.
a few too many cigarettes


and i pull on my coat,
make for the door,
make my excuses.


only a week left
and i become something else
emerge wholly new
or maybe partly
but emerging 
nonetheless
just one beer
or two
and make for home
try to beat
the storm
of the 
century. 
Actuellement j'écoute:
Big Black Hole & the Little Baby Star
Par Sean Hayes
Date de publication : 2008-03-18
 
0 Comm.
(Ajouter un commentaire) |
Traduire
[07 déc. 2009 | lundi] 4:30

Humeur actuelle : one small gift
i've had so much reading to catch up on and i'm feeling like i'm making little progress. when i put the articles and books away at the end of the night, before i turn the lamp switch two clicks and off, i'm savoring a poem or two. slowly, carefully, relishing. ted hughes birthday letters is lovely, painful, sensual, tactile. my poetry days are swirling round my head. 

your birthday, i've missed it again, i suspect...forgotten to mark it as i did that last winter but for what its worth, i've got more to give you this time 'round than i could've then. i meant to send it but i was never good for that. fold it up / tissue paper / flames. this is how we dispose of that which is sacred...another tiny ritual.
________________________

Birthday Wishes

           "happy birthday, baby,"
i'd no doubt inscribe
with indelible ink on
the blank side of 
some clever
beautiful
hallmark/fresh ink card--
my favorite to send
        --but you know that.

            happy birthday, baby,
    listen:
i've finally started
to understand
what it must have 
been like for you 
at thirty--
    or was it
         --thirty one?
overwhelmingly
unaccomplished
and fearing for 
a future you 
couldn't quite picture 
so you had to
--had to do something--
and there was no way
i could have known
but i did try, didn't i?
i did try to to know
and when i thought 
i'd figured it out,
i opened my hands 
and 
watched you stretch
and shed
the dust of misuse
and go out
to explore 
a world we 
were meant
to share.
i let you go then,
when you asked me to
--i did that, 
didn't i?

happy birthday, baby,
did you know
i measure my 
months of years
since thirty?
well, truly,
how could you know that?
i measure my
months of years
in skeins of yarn 
and i've pieced together
what it must have
been like for you;
i look at you now and
i'm speechless 
because you've gone
and done it!
your bravery
courage
so admirable.
from this distance
i like who you've 
become,
from this angle,
you're doing so well
and so i know now
that i can stop
watching.
that time
has come
and gone
i think.
--yes,
   i think you'll agree.

happy birthday, baby
i wish you so much:
happiness
luck
warmth
for your year thirty six
i haven't much to give
but i have this one thing:
i've let us stay here,
caught up on so many
hooks in our time-worn net
i've let us stay here 
for too long, baby
but i've done it,
untangled us
safely, slowly
with all the care 
i could muster
and here,
my love,
here, here you are,
freed of this thing
finally
and don't you worry,
baby,
don't you worry.
i've got a miniature maudlin hope
thats so like me, isn't it?
that when i get there
--when i see thirty six--
i'll know 
what it feels like
for you now.

happy birthday, baby,
sending your memory
 to go out 
and to live
on its own.
happy birthday, baby,
you've made me so proud.
Actuellement j'écoute:
The Dangling Conversation/Big Bright Green Pleasure Machine
Par Simon & Garfunkel
 
0 Comm.
(Ajouter un commentaire) |
Traduire
[06 déc. 2009 | dimanche] 11:21

Humeur actuelle : busy hands.
not too many days left of classes and still a great deal of work to be done. 

did some major troubleshooting and figured out how i can manage word on my home computer so i can possibly get away without spending too much time in the over-crowded bustling library. beautiful. my coffee pot is steps away from the battle station. 

the dogs are doing their end-of-fall semester winter napping near me while i do my writing. i love this. i keep taking tiny breaks to just enjoy what is going on...this is the last time i'll be doing it for awhile. i'll try to keep reminding myself of this in the coming two weeks. 

there is still snow on the ground. i've found some old sweatshirts that were left and they fit...so, i layer. this makes me happy. i think i might be curbing my bike for awhile again if only because i've been digging the fast changes in my body that the walking affords. once it gets colder, i suspect i'll revert to the bike again, if only to get me to a warm-pod in a more expeditious manner. 

i think that if i make it through this year, things are going to be okay. i just have to plug on, focus, prioritize, and not allow myself be distracted by handsome fellas for a bit. 

i've got this.
Actuellement j'écoute:
Mermaid Avenue
Par Billy Bragg & Wilco
Date de publication : 1998-06-23
 
0 Comm.
(Ajouter un commentaire) |
Traduire
[05 déc. 2009 | samedi] 5:27

Humeur actuelle :realistic hopes
opened my eyes to the usual deep reds. my soft naked skin curled in winter-warm flannel sheets, and all the intimate stirrings a religious not-quite-chinese red down comforter pulled up around my ears could afford. i peeked out and realized that the house felt incredibly cold (the bear remembered to turn down the heat) and that the light in my room was terrifically bright. sun? 

snow!

that excitement of the first snow washed over me...i hastily made my way to the bathroom, turning the hot water on right away, expecting warmth...the comfort of that cozy bed behind me, my skin responded with goosebumps. hot water. winter.

so here we are again, snow, and you're marking, as is your habit, the happiest and most heartbreaking moments in my life. remember when we left early because the roads were bad and we bought our first shovel? he threw his first snowball at the dog. we were like children playing house. remember the way the sun shone on the snow that day we went down to settle our business at the bank, dividing what was ours. remember the way it snowed that night after i'd dropped him at the airport. i drank two bottles of wine and baked franklin nut bread to stay busy. this little town was covered quintessentially with the stuff on christmas eve-eve and i felt the vacuum of his absence. this morning, i didn't take the time to dwell on the sadness so much as acknowledged that december is a rough month but that i'm determined to see this one through, for good or bad. 

the snow is still falling, hours later. i sit here, at my little battle station looking out on the street when people pass by. i love this room with a view; i've created a perfect space for work. before i can get too settled, though, i need to get some coffee. out of coffee so i'll have to go out. don one of last year's scarves, layers. walk a dog to the grocery store down the block and pick up some beans. 

"it makes sense that you'd want to know what kinds of beans to expect if you're going to be waking up with someone." i've learned a thing or two this year about eggs and baskets, about boys and charm. still, i can't help but think that this winter is gonna have its share of warmth. 

here we are again, snow. i hope we'll get this winter right.


Actuellement j'écoute:
Midwinter Graces [CD/DVD Combo]
Par Tori Amos
Date de publication : 2009-11-10
 
0 Comm.
(Ajouter un commentaire) |
Traduire
[02 déc. 2009 | mercredi] 4:06

Humeur actuelle : circus acts
the good with the bad
i'm trying to take both 
carefully. 
meticulously. 
this isn't how
i thought you'd 
break a silence
years in the making.

the good with the bad
and waiting
for a call from 
a lawyer's office
while trying to muster up 
some dignity,
some patience.
proving more difficult 
than i'd ever expected.
i make coffee
smoke cigarettes
and try to figure out 
something clever to 
do with my 
idle hands.

and do you remember
when you used to
point to cars
with dogs
and boys
with beards?
"there's the dream,"
you'd say and
i don't know now whether
it was actually there
in your tone or 
if i'm putting it there now
but i hear 
a sense of resentment
that comes from
misunderstanding.
i think you forget
that you were 
just as guiltyof having
your type
weren't you?
you most certainly were
and now i see
they all looked
like me.

the good with the bad
excited about possibility
when i break through 
these paper walls
fingers clutching the decree
that has cost me more
that i ever expected it would.
the world,
my oyster now
like it has been
for you all along.
the world,
waiting to be conquered
in a few mere weeks.
the world
is waiting
patiently 
for me
to take
her on.

the good with the bad
one handsome fellow
who thinks he's not great
but not bad
(though i for one 
think better of 
that opinion)
a second handsome fellow
taller than you
and not so far away
on the edge of 
three years
my time has come
and the boys stand up
like dominoes
waiting for me to put you behind me
(a task i know now
i completed some time ago
and without fanfare)
the boys stand up
and wait
for me 
to knock them
down.
one.
at.
a.
time.
funny,
they look
more like you
than i suspect
you'd guess.
there.
there's the dream.
you had it wrong.

the good with the bad;
you wait
the world waits
the boys wait
and i wait
not so patiently
on a cold december morning
for a call to come in
from a man
i may never meet
in highback
leather office seat
to tell me
how to sort this out.
there are mornings
when i hate playing
the damsel in distress
but i do it
when i've
no other choice
because thats what we do
what we've learned to do:
take it.

the good with the bad
weighing it out,
meting out portions
that i can manage
reminding myself
one
day
at 
a 
time
after all:
thats how i got here
to this morning, anyway.
on my own
/on her own/
without you
because that
is how you wanted it.

Actuellement j'écoute:
We Are the Same
Par The Tragically Hip
Date de publication : 2009-04-07
 
0 Comm.
(Ajouter un commentaire) |
Traduire
[30 nov. 2009 | lundi] 5:11

Humeur actuelle : slightly distracted
after watching sylvia last week, i was extremely moved to read ted hughes' birthday letters. a thirty cent copy on amazon came my way this morning...a used copy with an inscription in the front cover. i couldn't have asked for a better copy, really. it doesn't seem as though joann--to whom the book was dedicated--thumbed through it very much. in my imagination, joann (who received it from what i suspect is possibly "shellie", her sister, according to the note) probably cared for the gift of a book of poetry much like my own sister might...but then i realize that, truly, i don't know my own sister very well. i wonder sometimes what we have in common other than our shared parents...i suspect more than i could ever know.

it has been a long time since i've received a book of poetry as a gift. perhaps ten years? probably. a book of poems from october surprise (my brother-by-association, formerly known as "cole") back on my twenty second birthday: allen ginsberg's death & fame; a copy of america's best loved poems from liza (presumably from the big book sale at the newman center.)

of all of my books from toby, none that i recall were books of poetry. i did, however, give him a copy of the outlaw bible of american poetry. i looked through my bookshelves some time after he'd gone to see if he'd actually taken it with him. he must've. i checked again last week, though, because i wanted to read that poem about marianne faithful's discarded cigarette, wanting to read that line about the lipstick left on the filter. it wasn't there. i hoped silently to myself that he still has the book. looking, though, forced me to look around the house, to see the things that he left behind nearly three years ago and to notice how many of those things are spent things that i'd do well to take to goodwill or put out to the curb. the books, however, i cherish. was i not just concerned that my edward gorey anthology was missing? (i most certainly was.) he gave me some of my favorite books and i associate them with him, however loosely i now do so. 

poetry in the mail. an entire book of it just for me, from me, describing the short shared life of two poets. i have so much work to be done but on breaks, i'm getting lost in poetry for the first time in so long...a renewed love.
Actuellement j'écoute:
When I Pretend to Fall
Par The Long Winters
Date de publication : 2003-05-06
 
0 Comm.
(Ajouter un commentaire) |
Traduire
[29 nov. 2009 | dimanche] 6:46

Humeur actuelle : bordering on implosion
this week has been a rough one at best. things feel like they're falling down around me and i'm powerless to do anything but watch. i'm scared, admittedly. what am i going to do without a car to get me to pittsburgh...to get a job...to get out of this town...to even out my debts? i've got three more weeks of school left ahead of me and then was looking forward to getting back to that sense of normalcy that comes with a full time job...and dare i dream of health benefits? my contacts lenses are gone and i resort to my glasses. i forget what i look like without them, now. 

my stomach has been a pit of tangled angry vipers. i can't concentrate and i fear that this distraction is going to cost me my grades in this, my last semester.

so i'm putting on my red sauconys, my biking pants...filling up my water bottle...and getting on my bike for a few hours this afternoon in hopes of clearing my head. 

not all of this is my fault but i'll bear the weight of it, the brunt of it. he has no idea how much i loved him then...and it is in the honor of that love that i keep my silence but damn, this is scary stuff. i have never felt more helpless in my life.

i will pedal until i weep and weep until i can't anymore. my secret spot on the trail under the bridge is waiting for me...i'm off. i'm running out of things for which to stay...
Actuellement j'écoute:
Fox Confessor Brings the Flood (Bonus Disc Version)
Par Neko Case
Date de publication : 2007-11-06
 
0 Comm.
(Ajouter un commentaire) |
Traduire