dear love,

i'd like to find you again,
if you'd let me buy you dinner,
or cook you something,
or pick you flowers,
or maybe just go for a walk.

i dream big.

i sat down today at a table at the farmers market reading "hot water music" by bukowski, and an older couple sat down across from me, and the woman bought offered to buy me a cup of coffee.

looks like there still are kind people in the world.

too bad i spilled the coffee all over me before i even got to drink it.

...

i've come to realize that there are some people who i cannot convince. this is okay, because having the power to persuade everyone, even of the truth, would be too much control. having control at all in the first place tends to always end up bad no matter how good it may seem... my advice to myself and everyone else - if you can't get something good back, just be thankful for what it was and don't ever let that go. forgive, if you can, but don't forget. things are going to be okay.

to quote -

"you have to die a few times before you can really live."

how it's gonna happen.

plans for life -

- go to school
- become a teacher
- go to japan
- marry this woman:

Living Saints - Polar Bear Club

I cut my fingers on a broken picture frame
The welling up waxes and wanes. It's not fair and it hasn't been
All my friends are living saints. Been killing me for weeks
A garden weed that cracks concrete. It hasn't been fair for long
Growing up isn't moving on.

Do you miss our broken reason or the nights spent treating
Troubles and normalcy to bottles and comedies?
You forgot your necklace upstairs on purpose
It was you golden ticket scam and it always made us laugh
Do you see me as your acquaintance, your death by time, age and long
distance?

Broken picture frames
The welling up waxes and wanes. It's not fair and it hasn't been
All my friends are living saints. Been killing me for weeks
A garden weed that cracks concrete. It hasn't been fair for long
Growing up isn't moving on

All my friends are living saints
Broken still but never breaking ties

I never pictured this, disperse in fall and don't reminisce
See it's just not fair, not everyone moved on

highlights -

"hello, are you this evening?"

"good, now that you're here to check us out."

"um...i hope you found everything okay."

"found you didn't we?"

dis is how i get money.

...

it's funny how life works. you think you know somebody, get really close to them, share special moments with someone, and then the next thing you know, they don't want to share that anymore. they don't even want anything to do with you anymore. they call you up or show up on your doorstep telling you that things just aren't the same anymore, and that one of you or both has changed. and you want to think it's them, because you know it is, but as part of being modest and a good person, i guess, you have to look inside yourself and see what's changed, too. okay, so we all make mistakes - we fuck up, we say things out of spite or out of being hurt that in turn hurt the ones we love, because, let's face it - we're going to hurt a lot of people while we're alive, but the ones we hurt most will always be the ones that we love. or used to. to each his own, really. and then, to escape doing so, people begin to lie. everyone does it. whether it's in big doses or small doses, people have lied and continue to do so. it's human nature, i guess. this doesn't really have to do with one person in particular, but it can go out to anyone i can ever say meant anything to me - i love you all, still. even if you've fucked me over or hurt me beyond i'd ever let you know - which tends to usually be the case.

i choose not to acknowledge the fact that i'm hated by some people who i could never have the stomach in me to hate, myself. the people who meant the most to me over the years, despite fallouts, remain close to me in some way. i always know that if there was ever any sort of true, actual friendship, they'll come around again...i hope. and i realize that now there's probably you, or some of you, who tell their new friends about what a piece of shit i am or how much of a pain in the ass i can be.

that's fine, because it's true.

but i'd never do that to you.

Look,

to be honest, with everyone -
i am not posi 24/7. in fact i'm usually pretty depressed and cover it up with a big smile and hugs. in this sense i feel like i am like most people except for i'm just smiling all the time. i don't hang out often because i feel uncomfortable around most people and it's easiest for me to get to know people on a one-on-one basis. i trust almost no one and i believe that almost everyone is lying to me or has at some point. this means in no way that i'm not happy. i'm actually very happy. i also make no sense. if i don't like someone i want them dead, and i don't care if they have someone who will be upset about it. this is the most selfish part of my being, i guess. luckily i don't dislike much more than 2 or 3 people, but honestly, i feel like the world would be better without them, and not just mine. i have no idea where this is going.

basically,
i love you all.

The splinter is gone but i can still feel it's sting.

I really hate that I've become so used to hating people, especially when it's people I barely know.

Stop being so shitty, you fucks.

HEY GUYS

Gage and I started a blog just for writing, not really blogging. I've copied my favorite stuff that I've written over to there and will post most of my short stuff over there from now on. If you wanna hop on and share stuff, you can, just comment us somehow and let us know, we'll send you an invite.

http://reasonstohateyourlife.blogspot.com/

I'd Rather Smile Than Write Well.

thank you
love and happiness,
for
making my heart flutter
and my mouth curl upwards
and
my poetry
dull

Stoplights.

i sit at the
stoplight
with you
and wait for the change.
it glows bright red
in the dark
of the night.
some cars
pull up behind me
and wait
too.
and we wait.
and we wait.
and we wait.
and a bicyclist
rolls on through
and ignores
the stoplight.
and a man
crosses the street
walking his dog
and ignores the stoplight.
and i look at you
and you look at me
and we look at each other
and we ignore the stoplight.

and everyone just goes around us.

All About Ari.*

Ari took a long last drag from his cigarette and then dropped the butt on the ground. He stepped on it with the end of his boot and smeared the ashes into the sidewalk. It looked as if he had stepped on an insect or small animal of sorts, only instead of blood there was just black burned leaves and paper. He adjusted his scarf around his neck, and pulled it up to cover his mouth. He put his hands in his coat pockets. He walked along the edge of the sidewalk almost teetering into the street. It was cold out. Trees that grew out of holes in the ground were bare and gray. Crows sat perched on the branches and occasionally cawed and fluttered their wings. Ari kept walking. He walked and walked and walked and then walked into a diner. He sat down at the bar and ordered a cup of coffee and a basket of french fries.

"Lemme get a cup of coffee and basket of french fries," he said.

The waiter standing behind the bar was fat and hairy and wore a white apron stained with grease. He looked at Ari and snorted and scratched his ass and then rang up Ari's order without saying a word. The whole exchange - Ari sitting down, Ari ordering, the waiter ringing up Ari's order, took less than a minute. There was no need for someone to bring Ari a menu; he knew what he wanted. No one needed to walk him to a place to sit; he knew where he wanted to sit. He didn't even need to wait for the waiter to come and take his order. The waiter knew what his job was and he knew that it had to be done so he did it. If he didn't do it he didn't get paid and he wanted to get paid. They had never met or even seen each other before but during that minute they both lived in the same world where waiting wasn't necessary because both of them knew exactly what they wanted.

The waiter brought Ari his coffee first and then his french fries and then asked him if he wanted anything else. Ari said he didn't want anything else and that if he did he would ask for something else. It was the first time since Ari had walked into the place that he and the waiter had spoken directly to each other and still they had already communicated so much. But now there was an uneasiness between them that they both sensed but didn't say anything about. Then the waiter walked away and Ari drank his coffee, black, and ate his french fries with some ketchup that was already waiting for him in a bottle at the bar. He thought about the ketchup and felt glad that it couldn't feel anything like emotions, because he thought it must be awful to be a bottle of ketchup - always in one place, waiting for someone to come and turn you over use you until you're all used up. Then gets thrown out. It could takes weeks or it could take days, and if it never happened it'd still get thrown out anyways, only completely full and completely wasted. It would be a terrible way to live. When he finished his coffee and his fries he put a few bills down and then just sat there. He looked at the waiter and then sort of spun around on his barstool, looking at everyone else. He saw an old couple eating burgers at a booth, 'cept they ate their burgers with a knife and fork instead of their hands. He saw a young couple sitting and holding hands across the table and looking in love. Then he saw a girl sitting alone at a booth reading a book. Ari studied her with his eyes. She sat up straight in her seat and held her arms out straight in front of her, resting the book on the table. There was a cup of coffee sitting on the table too. She was pretty. She had long black wavy hair that hung down past her chest. She wore a knit cap with ear warmers and tassles that hung down and rested on her shoulders. She had freckles on her cheeks and her cheeks were rosy and full of life.

Ari got up from his seat at the bar and sat down across from her. He didn't say a word but instead sat up straight like she was and put his hands in his lap and waited. A few seconds that seemed like minutes passed and the girl said something.

"Hello."

"Hello. What are you reading?"

Ari saw perfectly well what she was reading but decided to ask her anyways. The girl spoke without even so much as glancing up from her book.

"Oh. This? This is a book my friend let me borrow. He says it's very good, swears by it. It's about some guy who kills some guy and then goes to jail and then in the end realizes that his life is all pointless and that he doesn't matter and that no one cares about him."

"Hm. Sounds like you already know the whole story, so why read it?" Ari asked.

"Just something to do, I guess. Thought maybe I'd get my own perspective on it, you know?"

"True," Ari said.

"So what's your name?" The girl asked.

"I'm Ari. You?"

"Fran. Call me Franny, everyone else does. Or Steph. It doesn't matter."

"Well, Franny, it's nice to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you too, Ari."

Franny finally looked up from her book and looked into Ari's eyes. He noticed that she had the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen. Bright blue, big. He felt like he could spend forever just looking into them.

"I hope you don't think I'm weird, just coming over here and sitting down across from you like this. You just looked lonely."

"Oh no, it's completely fine. I suppose that's why I would choose to sit here anyways. Just me, across from an empty seat. It would be rude for you not to sit down, if you saw me, I think. Most people are rude though, that's the thing. They see a girl like me sitting here alone and think 'oh, she's lonely, we'll just leave her like that then' instead of thinking that maybe I left the seat open because I am just waiting for someone to come sit in it. Like you, Ari. I suppose I was just waiting for you and that's why I chose to sit here."

Ari smiled and nodded. He didn't quite know what to say but he felt that it didn't matter whether or not he did or didn't say anything. Then he said something.

"No problem."

Franny smiled and then kept reading. They both sat there not saying anything for a few minutes until Ari got up suddenly. Franny looked up from her book. He looked down at her.

"It was very nice meeting you Franny. I'm going to go home now."

"Oh, yes, it was nice meeting you too Ari. I hope maybe we can meet again sometime?"

"Maybe. Probably not, but maybe."

Ari turned around and headed towards the door without looking back. He could feel her eyes upon him and he smiled a bit but then walked out of the diner. The cold winter air stung the tip of his nose. He walked along the edge of the sidewalk teetering into the street a bit. He lit a cigarette as he walked and held it between his lips at the side of his mouth. He put his hands in his pockets and thought about Franny and how pretty she was and what she was reading and what she had said. He thought about the waiter with his grease-stained apron. He thought about the old couple eating their hamburgers with a knife and fork and the young couple in love.

Then Ari went home and hanged himself.

You know what I'd really, really like?

For my birthday, that's a week away?

Something that getting older isn't going to give me.

Something that only I can make happen.

Hearing Loss.

I thought I was going deaf.

"What?"

Almost every time anyone would talk to me, I'd respond with the most annoying word in the English language when you're trying to talk to somebody.

"What?"

But I wasn't going deaf. There was no way I could be. I was only seventeen. And sometimes, everything sounded fine, but then sometimes, I couldn't hear shit. I tried to blame the problem on Ashley because oftentimes it would emerge when I was with her or right after. But this just made her mad and sometimes violent towards me. It continued like this until one day I came to realize that the problem was only occurring in my left ear - which meant that if I was going deaf, it was only in that ear - not both. So I wouldn't be deaf, really, anyways. But of course, I still didn't completely believe that was the case. So Ashley, being the more sensible of her and I, somehow quickly figured out the problem.

"It's earwax," she said. "It can build up in there real bad and then you can't hear. You're gonna have to clean it out."

To which I responded,

"What?"

"There's these drops that I have that you can put in your ear. It'll break up the earwax, and then there's this thing that squirts water in your ear that flushes it all out."

"What?"

So one day she laid me on my side on my bed and dropped these little drops of stuff into my ear and told me that I couldn't move for ten minutes. It sizzled and popped and burned and I didn't move for ten minutes, although I really wanted to. It's very difficult for me to stay still at all, so ten minutes was torture. The whole time Ashley had to pet my head, like I was a kitten or something, to keep me still. Then when ten minutes were up she stuck a cotton ball in my ear and walked me to the bathroom, where, conveniently, I for some reason already had a little blue ear-flusher-cleaner-outer thingy in my medicine cabinet. She took the cotton ball out of my ear, threw it away, and filled up the little blue thing with warm water. It made a slurping sound as it sucked up the water. Then she made me hang me head over the bathtub, left ear down, and she shot a blast of warm water into my ear.

"OH MY GOD. OH MY FUCKING GOD," was the first thing I heard.

And then I saw.

Little yellow bits of earwax sediments on the floor of the tub beneath my ear. Some yellowed water around them. Ashley's hand holding the blue-flusher-thingy, covered in the liquid. Ashley looking disgusted. And I secretly thought it was hilarious. But I didn't say anything. I valued my life, you know.

But I still couldn't hear.

And then she repeated the process. Again. And again. More chunks of earwax would fall out into the tub and more of the nasty liquid would get all over her and her arm and occasionally my shoulder. It was warm. It was wet. It was sticky. It was awesome, in a way. She must have repeated it about five or six times before I decided I could hear again. I figured that any cloudiness of hearing was just water still in there. I thanked her repeatedly. She deserved it. I really don't think I'd ever met anyone before who would have done such a thing for me and I probably won't. Maybe my mom. Maybe anyone's mom. My mom wiped poop from my butt when I was a little kid, so I guess she gets a gold star for dealing with gross bodily clean up. But if I asked my mom to wipe my poop up now she'd probably just kick me out. Anyways, the point is that what Ashley had just done was disgusting, and I knew it was disgusting, and that I now probably owed her a really fancy dinner or something. Which I'll get to, when I have money. Shortly after everything was all cleaned up she said good-bye and went home, leaving the little bottle of drops with me, 'just in case'.

So the next morning I expected to wake up and be able to hear just fine, like I did a few weeks before.

But I didn't.

Instead I woke up and I couldn't hear shit out of my left ear. Still.

Godammit, I thought.

I looked at the clock and saw it was only 8:30 am. Way too early to ask Ashley, or anybody for that matter, for help cleaning out my aural orifice. So I decided to try it myself. I got up, put in the drops, laid on my side, waited for ten minutes, then went to the bathroom, stood over the sink, filled up the little blue-flusher-thingy with hot water, and shot that mother fucker as hard as I could into my ear. Immediately, there was a metallic, ringing sound, and I could hear everything. Then I looked into the sink and there was dark yellow liquid everywhere, and a huge chunk of earwax, about the size of the nail of my little finger, next to the drain.

Gross, I thought.

But I could hear again.

It was awesome.

A Story To Kill The Night.

i cannot sleep
or eat
or breathe
or so much as
speak
until
i am gone
so
i close
my eyes
forever

This Is Not A True Story*

*Not for me, at least.


You could almost feel something.
You could close your eyes and for a second maybe you could feel something.
Maybe.
If the ability to listen wasn't so tough then maybe I wouldn't be like this. But I need more, man. I need more. I spend hundreds on this shit a week and I tell ya, I just need more.

My mama gives me 50 dollars a week spending. Dad, too. They have good jobs. They drive nice cars. They send me to a private school that costs a lot so I will grow up to be a model citizen. I walked in on Dad fucking some woman who wasn't my mama, once. I told him I'd keep my mouth shut for a few more hundred dollars. So he gave me some money and I spent it all on the junk that will make you numb. I used most it all up in a few minutes. My friends said it was a bad idea. What do friends know though - they just lie to you and tell you they care about you. I don't need that. I have what I need and it's perfect 'cause it doesn't talk. It doesn't tell me anything. It doesn't need to. I don't have friends anymore.

The night after I caught Dad doing his fucking and I got all that money I got into some trouble.
I left my guy's house and it was 3 in the morning. Bitch black outside. Neighborhood had no street lights. Wore all black so I couldn't be seen. And I blended in perfectly to the night. I was a shadow that belonged to the trees and the streets and would die when the sun would rise. But then there was a light and it wasn't the sun. It was a car. And I thought to myself who drives around here at 3 in the morning? Cops and queers, that's who. I saw the lights and ducked down into a nearby bush. This could go one of two ways i thought - get stopped and get your ass beat or get stopped and get your ass fucked.

Next thing I know I'm in the back seat that car. It ain't a cop car and it ain't no queer car either. But I'm in the back and I'm all tied up and my stomach hurts. My head hurts. My whole body hurts. I want to be numb. I've got a bandanna tied around my mouth so I can't talk. There are two people in the car with me. One drivin' one sittin' in the passenger seat. They got shaved heads and sleeveless shirts. The one drivin' 's got three x's tattooed on the back of his neck. The passenger turns around and looks at me. All I can see in his eyes is hate. Why does he hate me? What did I do to him?

"Fuckin' junky piece of shit," he says. Then he lands me one real hard in the jaw. And I passed out.

When I came to I was in what looked like a warehouse. I was on the floor and still all tied up but that bandanna was gone so I could talk. I realized that my pants pockets were turned inside out and empty. Fuckers cleaned me out, it looked like. I looked around me. Wasn't really a big place, if it was a warehouse. On the walls there were some posters but I couldn't read em. My vision was all blurry like. Then I seen that guy with the x's on the back of his neck. And about ten other guys too. They're all standing in one corner talking. I hear them as a dull incomprehensible murmur.

"HEY! HELP! WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!" I yelled.

They all stopped talking and one yelled something out.

"Oh! Look at this! He's awake! About time, we were getting restless."

"...what?" I said.

I blinked my eyes and they were all on top of me. Beating me. Taking punches at me. Kicking me. In the head, in the stomach, in the groin. They cursed and swore and called me a junky piece of shit, over and over. Then it stopped. One of them was dangling something in front of my face.

Zip-lock bag. My zip-lock bag. Full of my junk.

"You want this?" he asked.

I didn't say anything. I was in too much pain. I just looked at it. It was beautiful. And I did want it. I wanted it bad. I wanted it now. I wanted it so I could get rid of the pain and then maybe feel strong enough to take on all of these fuckers. At once.

He asked me again.

"You want this?"

I managed to nod.

"THEN FUCKING HAVE IT!" he said.

Then he shoved the whole bag in my mouth. It went down deep and touched the back of my throat and I gagged and vomited. But the bag stayed in. I woudn't let it go. Not again. I gnashed my teeth and bit into it and felt it's contents on my tongue.

"Fuckers like you never learn..." he said.

"Let's get this piece of shit out of here."

I felt them kick me a few times in the stomach and then one of them picked me up. I couldn't tell you much more than than that though. I was slowly slipping away into someplace else, another place far, far away.

I woke up on the side of the road. The highway. There were two policemen standing over me. One was holding my bag. It was trashed. Covered in blood and vomit. But there was plenty of stuff left in it to do the job.

"An ambulance is on it's way," one of the policemen said. "But you've got some time you're gonna be payin', yessir. You fuckin' junkies pile up here on the side of the road here everyday and we can't just let you walk."

Then I heard sirens and I passed out again.

They did a lot of stuff to me at that hospital. Stitched me up real nicely. Put some stuff on my bruises. Gave me some shots. I slept through most of if. Every now and then I'd wake up and I'd see a hot nurse standing over me with her tits in my face. It was an alright way to spend a few days.

I never did end up doing time. My mama and Dad did some talking under the table before the whole thing could even become a case. They took away some of my things but they still give me money every week because "a boy's gotta eat". And I never did find out who those guys who beat the shit out of me were. Nor did I ever see them again. Not the next time I left my guy's house. Or the time after that. But I still think about it. I've got the scars to remind me of it. But if it does happen again, don't you think I'm gonna quit doing this. Don't you tell me that once was enough and I shoula done learned my lesson. Don't tell me it's not worth it, because, oh, it's worth it. One night of pain in exchange for a beautiful feeling of numbness that not even the Devil could feel. It's worth it, trust me. For me, there is no lesson to learn.

Fuckers like me never learn.

Recollecting.

I had dinner at with Ashley today.
She picked me up from my house at about 4:50 and we went to one of our favorite restaurants.
I didn't say anything the way there but I handed her little slips of paper with things that I wanted to say on them. I felt as if my mouth got me into too much trouble (usually) so I just decided to keep quiet.
We ate quiet and we breathed quiet.
We didn't need to say anything anyways.
I don't think we ever did.
I feel like we always knew what the other was thinking as long as we've been together.
We are connected in some strange way that I don't think two people who love each other usually are.
For example, today she told me that she kept losing hearing in her right ear. I myself have been having trouble hearing too - from my left ear. Or that her left hand had a strange, random pain - and the same happened to my right.
I ate lasagna and she ate hummus and chips and some other stuff. Or rather we shared both.
After dinner we went to the bookstore and looked at books and I read Where The Wild Things Are to her in the kids section and we looked at books with pictures of baby animals in them. The whole time we still held hands and we still kissed and told each other that we loved each other.
After that it was time for us both to go home.
Still, nothing is certain. Neither of us know if we'll get back tomorrow or in a month, or even at all. But I just want her to be ready, if we do get back together. Right now it looks very possible but if not I will understand. But I'm hoping that we can. Maybe even as a birthday present for my upcoming eighteenth birthday. But any day will do really. I will wish for it at 11:11 every day or every time I see a shooting star. And stay positive and continue to love her regardless. I feel almost as if this whole incident has made me fall for her even more. I can't explain it. It's something that can't be explained.

When she dropped me off at my house I kissed her for a long time and she kissed me back. I asked her when I'd see her next and she said we'll see. I said I loved her. And she said she loved me too. And then she said happy six months together.

And I said happy six months together, too.

For Ashley, who I love very much -

One week ago I was able to sleep. I'd make sure to fall asleep early as I could so the next day would arrive and I would see you again.

Tonight, I will sleep only because I am hoping that tomorrow will be a better day. That maybe I'll wake up and you'll be there to tell me everything is okay. Maybe right now I am just dreaming. Maybe this is a really bad dream, and you'll shake me awake. I will wake up with tears in my eyes and I will be cold, and you will hold me close to you and say "Shhh...it's okay." And you will let me kiss you and hold your hand, and play with your fingers. And you will promise me that it will always be like that.

"Baby. It's okay. I love you."

After 6 months of spending every day with you I have already felt closer to you than I have with anyone in my whole life. I guess you are right and everyone else is right. I am only seventeen years old. What do I know? I know that I still love you and I still want to be with you. And I am writing this and making it public because I want everyone else to know too. I want everyone to know how much I love you. I want everyone to know about the girl who I love very much and always will love very much. I wish I had been able to make you as happy as you deserve. Even now knowing that you are reading this is making me happy. I don't care what has happened. You will still make me happier than anything or anyone in the whole world.

I will always think about you and I. About all the things that have happened between us. Like my dad's birthday trip. Falling asleep on your stomach. Picnics at nighttime. Watching the stars in the park. Or just sitting around looking at each other as if there was nothing else in the world. All those times replay themselves in my head and I can't help but smile but I can't help but shed a few tears.

I am not writing this to make a scene, or even to win you back really. But more so as a tribute, or a dedication, to what we had and what I hope we can still have - love.

I will always love you, Ashley Bettinger. Don't ever forget that.

i'm wide awake
but my eyes are closed
and i'm dreaming
of a different day
when the sun still shined
and people would look outside
and smile.
and dreaming,
of a day when
the sun will shine again
and people will smile again
and everyone will be happy
again.
but for now,
i am just dreaming,
and
when i open my eyes
i will see
darkness.