Saturday, October 30, 2010

"im not afraid"

dear eminem,

i hope this letter finds you well.  despite any shit i will get from this, there are a few things i have to say.  i dont think you are that bad. in that drake remix with lil wayne, that line about saving face and hannibal lecter? i think that line is fantastic.  and that new song where you apologize about previous shitty albums well i think that that was very big of you to admit.  lets face it they were shitty albums.  i am going to be honest with you though, i am still not going to buy your cd.  but i may download a song illegally or if i am in a generous mood buy a song on itunes. anyway i just had to let this out. its been on my mind for weeks and i figured you should know how i feel about everything.


millgram, stanley

push the button. i knew you would. yes. yes i can hear the screaming too.  but i am wearing this suit and like i said push the button again.  i knew you would. you are worried about being held morally accountable? you are not responsible for your actions. no one is held morally accountable here. just ignore the screams. and push the button, again.


every cleaning lady i see is my mother. i fight the urge to hug them and kiss them and to tell them to stop cleaning up after the wasted youth. i want to scream a little. nurse shoes. the kind from wallmart. sterile blue but not your apron. mom stop it. stop cleaning. okay i understand you've got no choice.  i hear the squeaky cart come down the floors you shine. and the smell of bleach surrounds me, picks me up, makes me dizzy and i cant even imagine what it does to you.

people pleaser

it became clear to me as a child that humans should be like trees in a forest
they usually have about five feet of distance between them
giving each other room to grow. to stand tall and to be strong on their own

understand people?
thought i did?
my ego told me that i could read a person in five minutes
i could tell what kind of personality they had and if i wanted them in my life
my ego also told me that this was not an act of judgment
just a sense that i had about the human condition
i have thought about this long and hard
becoming a misanthrope for the most part
i cringe when i hear the word relationship
those are for the feeble minded, unstable, co dependent, people in the world
like a gluttonous slob at an all you can eat buffet i've had my fill of these types
i ask kenny why he hasn't come over
"because i am depressed and suicidal"  he says
"you can kill yourself in my bathtub" 

i dont have a bathtub
i have considered i have the traits of an anti social personality disorder
i do not care. i am not even a psychiatrist after all
"you need to stop playing tricks on people" says susan my therapist
"did you know only 2% of sociopaths have homicidal tendencies that they act out on?"
this could be a trick. susan might think so

countree house

mom you hid the aspirin again. a big economy sized aspirin. really? i mean REALLY?  like you are the only one who feels pain. and mom i do not deny you are in pain. i am sure it is something that i can not imagine. i see your swollen feet in the middle of the night.  and i never want to see them BUT i always wake up. like when i was a child and would watch you and dad sleep to make sure you were still breathing. i am not denying the way you feel but i have a headache from all the drinking i have been doing to prevent my panic attacks and avoid my withdrawals so just give me three pills and lets avoid the conversation.


i watched as someone i knew overdosed one morning
i had just taken a muscle relaxer so
so everything
was slow
and i watched as
she couldn't move her small hands
i watched and i thought "how is she going to paint"
i thought how soft could this pillow possibly get?would i choke on the pillow? nono i wouldn't this pillow was too good to me.i lifted my heavy head with my handsi went to the hospital after the ambulance left and i sat by the bed

Friday, October 29, 2010

love your own generation

all the revolutionaries
died of old age
punching figures
with their fat fingers
and you still wish you were born in the 1960's


i am not capable of physical violence against people. just against boxes. but only boxes made of cardboard. and they deserve it, ruining things with their dull brown color. being too weak for storing important things and sometimes too strong to break. i hate that about people. except i am talking about boxes. but really i do not want to shatter anyone to pieces. i do imagine it though.

cognitive decline

"ive been losing things"
so where is your clay?
and your sketchbook?
and your klonapin?
"i have no idea"
"i usually have a friend there. someone who points out all the things that are missing."


i first knew one of my boyfriends wouldn't be in my life forever when i told him i might be pregnant and he quickly let go of my hand. not just let go but he threw it in the air. this juvenile relationship fucked me up forever. since then i have made small attempts to reach out and tell people that i care. before falling off the edge and during moments of clarity. these attempts were poor. i wasn't scared of most things except what i perceived to be the most dangerous thing. the human condition. the thing that everyone seemed to possess and that i wanted to lose somewhere at a shopping mall. unfortunately it has found me now. and i care. i care about the friendships that i kicked away because i was hurt by them. or the sound of amtrak trains going into penn station and only being able to think to myself "damn that gets annoying" instead of once in a while saying it out loud. contrary to this i wont get a roommate. why am i telling you all of this? because now im painfully lonely and because there are stories i have not told you. i should save them if i go. im having some doubts. i dont know why. traveling is supposed to put things into perspective right?  something internal and weird always happens when i travel.  i come back to new york dreading the first step off the airplane.
there is wax all over the place. my painting is almost all wax. i melted it in a crock pot.  i have been secretly smoking in my bathroom. i am in high school

the new yorker turned off its lights im going to pretend you did that.

blue circles sometimes mint green circles

 it didnt matter how long it took to walk a block. but who gives a shit?  ms pacman stopped eating those little dots.  gameover.   but hey some people like making their lives harder.  like wearing stillettos to english class or riding a bike in midtown.

the dead are alive

there are so many exciting people in my little world. and most of them i don't ever have to meet. some of them are dead or married to mandy moore and write amazing poetry.  some of them close friends of mine whose talent and strength surprise me everyday.  some are a few steps away on my over populated bookshelf or in my musical devices. some i take with me everywhere i go. in my over sized bag. perfect for picking up random pieces of tile in manhattan or shoplifting.

god is in the small things

thought about finding religion somewhere. for a few minutes.  gave up. didn't even try because i figured i couldn't find it anymore.  like a forgotten necklace i lost years ago.  i don't wear jewelry. i havent worn jewelry since i lost my gold necklace with the cross on it and since i lost my faith in all things above me. everything seems to be working so i don't need a miracle.  it should be saved for someone who really needs that one in a million.  maybe the sixty year old woman playing the lottery.  the one eating canned beets, watching television on one of those lazy boygirl sofa things

i dumped 99% of my friends in two thousand and ten

cottage cheese always tastes kind of rotten.
 is it though? does its life process make it so?
i know this before i eat cottage cheese.
i know it each time. it tasted good once.
so i am trying to relive life.
it will never be the same
will it?

first thing is a first thing

i decided to compartmentalize. this is for writing. feel free to tell me its bad or good or whatever. don't correct my grammar. but i will try to spell correctly.