Monday, August 31, 2009
Sunday, August 30, 2009
i saw a dove with a broken leg today. it dragged it's leg along the sidewalk as it pecked the ground looking for food. for a moment, time stopped then and there, as i stood helpless and watched the beautiful bird. there was nothing, nothing but me and that dove, and a bout a million people unknowingly responsible for it's broken leg. a million people too careless to think about their actions and the world around them. i took a step forward, and the dove and it's broken leg took flight, into a sky above millions of careless people, a solemn reminder of the selfishness and absolute carelessness of human beings.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Friday, August 21, 2009
Thursday, August 20, 2009
I loved you before I even knew you existed.
She's gonna hate me for this.------------------
I woke up this morning and went straight for my phone. It's always the first thing I do when I wake up, as pathetic as that is. Only, this time, my phone wasn't there. The charger was plugged in, emitting it's annoying bright, flashing blue light as always, but there was no phone plugged into it. Then I remembered. That's right, I left it at Ashley's house last night. I had taken it out of my pocket while watching this documentary on Hunter S. Thompson - Gonzo. It's pretty sick; you should check it out some time. Anyways, I had left her house thinking it was in my back pocket but upon arriving home realized that my back pocket was actually inhabited by my bike light - which, I'm not sure how ended up there, but, things work in strange ways sometimes and I've by now accepted that. But now here I am, waiting for her to wake up or at least for a decent time to go get my phone from her. I start school in 4 days and I'm not feeling ready at all. It's my last year in high school and I'm taking harder classes than I had planned. I'm supposed to have Hound Of The Baskervilles and Naked Economics read by Monday. I haven't started either. Instead, I just finished Catcher In The Rye, which I enjoyed despite everyone else telling me it was awful, and I'm currently reading Ham On Rye. I'll probably finish my assigned reading in one evening or just hit up Sparknotes like any good student would. And by assigned reading, I mean Hound Of The Baskervilles, as there's no way in hell I'll read Naked Economics. It just sounds gut wrenchingly boring. I'll probably watch Coffee And Cigarettes today with Ashley when she wakes up. Or something like that. I just want to enjoy my remaining summer days, without the punishment of procrastination.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Havin fun isn't hard,
if you've got a library card.
Well, it's really my mom's card because I have a 40+ dollar fine or some shit.
And I just got movies to watch.
Dees:
Well, it's really my mom's card because I have a 40+ dollar fine or some shit.
And I just got movies to watch.
Dees:
Monday, August 17, 2009
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Thinking.
i used to work as a bagboy,
at the grocery store.
and i would bag groceries
for some very strange people
like,
for instance,
this old woman with drawn-on eyebrows
who would just by cat food
or this old man,
who used a walker,
who bought KY
or this tall black guy
who would always ask me
to walk him out to his car
and called himself
"versace don".
i was only fifteen,
and in my first year of high school,
and terrified of everything,
like old people,
or walking out to strangers' cars.
i'm still terrified of everything
but no longer enough
to quit my job.
-------------
sometimes,
i think about dying.
not
wanting to die
or wishing for death,
but just thinking -
what would it be like to be dead?
i know
that my heart will stop beating
and my brain will cease thinking
and i'll shit myself
like a big baby.
and all my memories
and all my thoughts
will become nothing.
and then i think -
what was it like
before i was even alive?
or even when i was a
little baby,
shitting and pissing and puking everywhere?
i don't remember
what that was like,
so maybe dying
is just just like not being alive
yet.
and then,
dying doesn't seem so bad.
at the grocery store.
and i would bag groceries
for some very strange people
like,
for instance,
this old woman with drawn-on eyebrows
who would just by cat food
or this old man,
who used a walker,
who bought KY
or this tall black guy
who would always ask me
to walk him out to his car
and called himself
"versace don".
i was only fifteen,
and in my first year of high school,
and terrified of everything,
like old people,
or walking out to strangers' cars.
i'm still terrified of everything
but no longer enough
to quit my job.
-------------
sometimes,
i think about dying.
not
wanting to die
or wishing for death,
but just thinking -
what would it be like to be dead?
i know
that my heart will stop beating
and my brain will cease thinking
and i'll shit myself
like a big baby.
and all my memories
and all my thoughts
will become nothing.
and then i think -
what was it like
before i was even alive?
or even when i was a
little baby,
shitting and pissing and puking everywhere?
i don't remember
what that was like,
so maybe dying
is just just like not being alive
yet.
and then,
dying doesn't seem so bad.
I woke up at ten thirty this morning. I was the first time I had slept in in years. I feel groggy, uncomfortable, and drained, but I still like that I just wasted a few hours of my day by not opening my eyes. Last night I had some friends (Chris and Lindsay) over, and we went and saw District 9. It was a lot better than I expected, and I am not really into sci-fi. It was very well-done and put together, and not super cheesy like I expected. After the movie, we came back to my house and called up some more people to come hang out - Elliot and James. Also, my mom's friend and her daughter, Amber, were staying at the house for the weekend, so Amber joined us too. It was my first time meeting her and I feel like I've made a new friend. When James and Elliot arrived, Lindsay had to go home so she went home. Anyways, we didn't really have much to do so we took a walk downtown, picking up Kathy along the way, and Chris got a pita at the Pita Pit. We walked around a bit more and then went back home. The weather was nice for summertime in Florida, and it made me look forward to the upcoming cold months. When we got back home we decided to take turns shaving Elliot's head. It was a bad idea, considering we only had a small clipper used for trimming beards. It took away an hour and we did a really bad job. Before we knew it it was 3:30 in the morning and everyone went home except Chris who slept in my bed. As much as I hate staying up so late, it was good fun with good friends, and a way to keep me occupied while Ashley's away. She comes back tomorrow, and I'm looking forward to seeing her as always, because while the company of friends is always nice, there's nothing quite like being held, sometimes.
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
When I was in seventh grade, I met a man named Mike Rossi.
Mike kind of sort of lived in the house behind me and was the husband of my mom's friend who also lived behind me. I say kind of sort of because he still had a home in Troy, Michigan that he was very attached to. Mike taught me to play guitar and how to sing, kind of. He was in his mid fifties and had all gray hair. He was a recent cancer survivor.
One day, I was driving to the guitar store to buy some strings with Mike, and he turned on the radio and U2 was on. I was wearing a beanie because I thought it looked cool, and Mike pointed at me and said I looked like the guitarist from U2 because of my beanie. I asked him why he thought so many old musicians wear beanies all the time, and he told me it was because they were hiding their bald heads. I thought it was funny but useless information.
A few months later while I was on another trip to the guitar store with Mike, he had to pull over from stomach pains. I figured he had eaten something bad. The next day he left back for Michigan.
I was sitting on my bed playing guitar when my mom walked into my room and told me that Mike's cancer had come back, even worse, and that he only had six months or so to live. It was the first time I had cried over someone dying.
I saw Mike a few weeks later and he seemed just fine. Occasionally he'd duck out for a few minutes but then he'd come back and continue talking about Bob Dylan as if nothing was wrong. He'd even pluck a few chords on his guitar and make up a song about how he wasn't really dying. We had several meetings like this, and in between he'd fly back up to Michigan to be where he felt the most at home.
One day while he was away, his wife, Suzanne, told me that things were getting really bad and that I may not see him again. She was going to fly back up to Michigan to be with him. Before she left, I dug through my dresser drawers and pulled out my beanie. I remembered what Mike had said about balding musicians and figured he might need it, so I gave it to her and told her to make sure he got it.
She was right. I never saw him again. Michael died a couple months later.
After that, Suzanne came back down to stay at the house behind me for a while. She was going to move out and move back up to Michigan. One day my mom went over to see her while I was out, and when I came home my mom said that Suzanne had some things from Mike to give me.
I went over to her house behind mine later that day, and received Mike's guitar and my beanie.
She told me that he was glad that I remembered.
Mike kind of sort of lived in the house behind me and was the husband of my mom's friend who also lived behind me. I say kind of sort of because he still had a home in Troy, Michigan that he was very attached to. Mike taught me to play guitar and how to sing, kind of. He was in his mid fifties and had all gray hair. He was a recent cancer survivor.
One day, I was driving to the guitar store to buy some strings with Mike, and he turned on the radio and U2 was on. I was wearing a beanie because I thought it looked cool, and Mike pointed at me and said I looked like the guitarist from U2 because of my beanie. I asked him why he thought so many old musicians wear beanies all the time, and he told me it was because they were hiding their bald heads. I thought it was funny but useless information.
A few months later while I was on another trip to the guitar store with Mike, he had to pull over from stomach pains. I figured he had eaten something bad. The next day he left back for Michigan.
I was sitting on my bed playing guitar when my mom walked into my room and told me that Mike's cancer had come back, even worse, and that he only had six months or so to live. It was the first time I had cried over someone dying.
I saw Mike a few weeks later and he seemed just fine. Occasionally he'd duck out for a few minutes but then he'd come back and continue talking about Bob Dylan as if nothing was wrong. He'd even pluck a few chords on his guitar and make up a song about how he wasn't really dying. We had several meetings like this, and in between he'd fly back up to Michigan to be where he felt the most at home.
One day while he was away, his wife, Suzanne, told me that things were getting really bad and that I may not see him again. She was going to fly back up to Michigan to be with him. Before she left, I dug through my dresser drawers and pulled out my beanie. I remembered what Mike had said about balding musicians and figured he might need it, so I gave it to her and told her to make sure he got it.
She was right. I never saw him again. Michael died a couple months later.
After that, Suzanne came back down to stay at the house behind me for a while. She was going to move out and move back up to Michigan. One day my mom went over to see her while I was out, and when I came home my mom said that Suzanne had some things from Mike to give me.
I went over to her house behind mine later that day, and received Mike's guitar and my beanie.
She told me that he was glad that I remembered.
Convinced I'm Wrong
Don't try and sound right, just hope your honest
Trust you'll end up somewhere
That girl that made you promise
she says "try not to care"
I don't know if I'm good, and everyone knows it
You ever feel you were meant to be alone?
Because I saw a play and and a character said
that he was destined to never feel at home
Don't go tonight, I'm looking for salt in a snow globe
Because what I had is slipping fast.
Dr. Howe, Please call back
I'm not sleeping in, I don't care
I'm singing loud but no one hears
I'll wake up tomorrow and still feel wrong for these days
What I had is slipping fast
Dr. Howe Please call me back.
What good am I to anyone like this?
It's been a hard couple months I'll admit
After tonight I'm not so convinced that I'm wrong
I feel at ease with my lows, and I'll take it.
Lord knows I'll take it.
Tonight they're explainable, far from extraneous.
Always expectant
I seldom discover or turn flaws into questions.
Great questions of the times.
I guess I'm an artist who's confines brought him luck
choked by second guessing
I know that's not enough
Yesterday I went to my school to pick up my schedule for this year.
Upon receiving it I immediately became stressed, finding out that I am to take three AP classes this year and I cannot change that. I was hoping for an easy senior year but it looks like I'm fucked. Also, this year students are required to wear their student IDs in plain sight at all times for "security purposes". I left the school with a stack of books that weighed more than I do and a frown on my face.
Upon receiving it I immediately became stressed, finding out that I am to take three AP classes this year and I cannot change that. I was hoping for an easy senior year but it looks like I'm fucked. Also, this year students are required to wear their student IDs in plain sight at all times for "security purposes". I left the school with a stack of books that weighed more than I do and a frown on my face.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
I can't remember if this really happened.
When I was about twelve years old, I met an old man named Jim.
Jim Staffinson.
Jim was a lonely man who lived in a nursing home. His children had put him there and then moved away to other states, and rarely kept contact with him anymore. That was okay though, because Jim didn't really remember that he had kids, and he didn't really remember that he ever had another home, either.
I can't quite recall how I met Jim, but I remember learning his name from an old woman who told me how lonely he was, so I decided to talk to him.
We had a long conversation about his life and about my life, and he smiled and laughed like he had not a care in the world. When I think about it, he probably was just amused that a young kid like myself would have any interest in him. When it was time for me to go, he made me promise to call him or come back and visit him or write him a letter. I promised I would and had full intention of keeping that promise.
I never spoke with him again.
About a year later I saw his face in the obituaries.
Jim Staffinson.
Jim was a lonely man who lived in a nursing home. His children had put him there and then moved away to other states, and rarely kept contact with him anymore. That was okay though, because Jim didn't really remember that he had kids, and he didn't really remember that he ever had another home, either.
I can't quite recall how I met Jim, but I remember learning his name from an old woman who told me how lonely he was, so I decided to talk to him.
We had a long conversation about his life and about my life, and he smiled and laughed like he had not a care in the world. When I think about it, he probably was just amused that a young kid like myself would have any interest in him. When it was time for me to go, he made me promise to call him or come back and visit him or write him a letter. I promised I would and had full intention of keeping that promise.
I never spoke with him again.
About a year later I saw his face in the obituaries.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Monday, August 3, 2009
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Horseshit.
I woke up this morning at five o'clock.
My mom was sitting on the edge of my bed talking to me like she always does on mornings when she wakes me up way too early.
The first thing I remember saying was "Go away."
She told me she was going away for the weekend. My brother was going to an anime convention. I had an empty house all to myself.
And I'm sick.
I remember thinking that I have no life because I knew I wouldn't do anything with my empty house. No one would visit me. Ashley was sick. My bike had flats and someone stole my pump months ago.
I went back to sleep.
I woke up alone this time.
I had a terrible headache.
I went to the kitchen and made coffee and thought about how if I was still in 9th grade I would have gone through my mom's alcohol and drank enough just to make me type funny and fall back asleep.
But I'm even more boring now.
I drank two cups of coffee and called my dad. I wanted something to do.
He let me drive his van around and we decided to make an appointment to finally get my license next week. While I was signing up for the appointment I decided that I was a terrible person for driving. Now I have an appointment on the tenth at ten-thirty.
I saw my cousin today. She told me I looked nice. I saw my cousin's girlfriend. She told me I looked nice. We all talked about food and my cousin gave me a cookie and I told her I loved her and she said I was a freak. I realized that my shoes matched my shirt and I felt strange. Then I left my cousin's apartment and Dad and I drove to his house in Eustis.
We ate at a Chinese buffet in Apopka. The food was bad. It made me nauseous. I'm pretty sure the vegetable spring rolls had chicken in them but I'm not sure. It was a big place but there were only about ten people eating there. My dad asked the waitress "Do you ever get busy?" "Oh yeah, always busy." I've been there three or four times before. It's never been busy.
I was supposed to mow the lawn tonight but I don't feel well. Dad said he'd pay for it so I could have money to take the misses out to Disney on Wednesday but now I still only have about five dollars. I thought about mowing the lawn in the morning but then Dad mowed it himself. Now I'm sitting here thinking about Mickey Mouse and dollar bills.
I have a 99.5 degree temperature, and I'm reading a new book.
I have company visiting me tomorrow and I'm hoping I'll drop this fever by then.
I'm watching the clock waiting for the right time to take another Motrin.
I just want to take an ice bath and fall asleep.
My mom was sitting on the edge of my bed talking to me like she always does on mornings when she wakes me up way too early.
The first thing I remember saying was "Go away."
She told me she was going away for the weekend. My brother was going to an anime convention. I had an empty house all to myself.
And I'm sick.
I remember thinking that I have no life because I knew I wouldn't do anything with my empty house. No one would visit me. Ashley was sick. My bike had flats and someone stole my pump months ago.
I went back to sleep.
I woke up alone this time.
I had a terrible headache.
I went to the kitchen and made coffee and thought about how if I was still in 9th grade I would have gone through my mom's alcohol and drank enough just to make me type funny and fall back asleep.
But I'm even more boring now.
I drank two cups of coffee and called my dad. I wanted something to do.
He let me drive his van around and we decided to make an appointment to finally get my license next week. While I was signing up for the appointment I decided that I was a terrible person for driving. Now I have an appointment on the tenth at ten-thirty.
I saw my cousin today. She told me I looked nice. I saw my cousin's girlfriend. She told me I looked nice. We all talked about food and my cousin gave me a cookie and I told her I loved her and she said I was a freak. I realized that my shoes matched my shirt and I felt strange. Then I left my cousin's apartment and Dad and I drove to his house in Eustis.
We ate at a Chinese buffet in Apopka. The food was bad. It made me nauseous. I'm pretty sure the vegetable spring rolls had chicken in them but I'm not sure. It was a big place but there were only about ten people eating there. My dad asked the waitress "Do you ever get busy?" "Oh yeah, always busy." I've been there three or four times before. It's never been busy.
I was supposed to mow the lawn tonight but I don't feel well. Dad said he'd pay for it so I could have money to take the misses out to Disney on Wednesday but now I still only have about five dollars. I thought about mowing the lawn in the morning but then Dad mowed it himself. Now I'm sitting here thinking about Mickey Mouse and dollar bills.
I have a 99.5 degree temperature, and I'm reading a new book.
I have company visiting me tomorrow and I'm hoping I'll drop this fever by then.
I'm watching the clock waiting for the right time to take another Motrin.
I just want to take an ice bath and fall asleep.
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