Sunday, July 6, 2008

where are the people in the machines?

Sometimes when I am driving and I see the other cars, I don't think anything about the people inside them. I forget that the cars are not self-propelled machines, but that there are people controlling them. When I actually do examine the people inside them, I find myself overwhelmed by questions surrounding their lives. Where are they going? What are they thinking about? What is most important in their lives?

Tuesday, June 10, 2008

But Not Forgotten

I think, no matter where you stray,
That I shall go with you a way.
Though you may wander sweeter lands,
You will not soon forget my hands,
Nor yet the way I held my head,
Nor all the tremulous things I said.
You still will see me, small and white
And smiling, in the secret night,
And feel my arms about you when
The day comes fluttering back again.
I think, no matter where you be,
You'll hold me in your memory
And keep my image, there without me,
By telling later loves about me.

Friday, June 6, 2008

asphyxiation won't come...

it's like i'm stuck in an elevator with unlimited oxygen and no hope of escape. i've watched enough james bond movies to know to try to climb out of the top of the box, but my weak arms are useless in trying to get to the next floor.

more importantly, as this is a metaphorical elevator, i don't know where the next floor is or if i want to get off there.

i don't know why i'm not done with all this. i don't know why i can't close this metaphorical chapter.

it's going to close whether i want it to or not.

Saturday, March 8, 2008

je ferais n'importe quoi de m'en ficher.

Thursday, February 14, 2008

I never thought you would actually make me hate you. I want to hate you so much...

...and I can't bring myself to hate you...

Friday, February 1, 2008


Please excuse me but I got to ask
Are you only being nice
Because you want something
My fairy tale arrow pierces
Be careful how you respond
'Cause you'd not end up in this song
I never gave you an encouragement
And it's doing me in

The more you try to erase me
The more that I appear
Oh the more, the more
The more you try the eraser
The more that you appear

You know the answer so why do you ask
I am only being nice
Because I want someone, something
You're like a kitten with a ball of yarn
And it's doing me in

The more you try to erase me
The more that I appear
The more I try to erase you
The more that you appear
No, you're wrong, you're wrong
You're wrong, you're wrong
You're wrong, you're wrong
You're wrong

Wednesday, January 30, 2008


Motherfucking cocksucker motherfucking shit fucker what am I doing? What am I doing? I don't know what I'm doing. I'm doing the best that I can. I know that's all I can ask of myself. Is that good enough? Is my work doing any good? Is anybody paying attention? Is it hopeless to try and change things? I'm fucked! Maybe I should quit. Don't quit! Maybe I should just fucking quit. Don't fucking quit! I don't know what the fuck I'm supposed to fucking do anymore! Fucker! Fuck shit!

Thanks, Albert.