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?

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.

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.

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

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...

Eraser

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

Coincidences

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.

recent dreams

i'm not normally prone to remembering my dreams. i attribute this to four solid years of smoking pot, two of those years, every day. but it seems like my system has cleaned itself out, and the dusty corners of my brain that i clouded with smoke have cleared to let me take a good look at them. i've dreamt pretty solid for the past week...some old favorites, some completely new ones...

Dream #1 "Vanity" or "Starting New"
i dream that my teeth are loose. particularly my front teeth. i know that i shouldn't wiggle them with my tongue, but i can't help myself. lo and behold, two or three of my front teeth fall out. in my panic, i attain a level of clarity and realize that if i want to save the teeth, i must put them in cold milk. i do so, and beg anyone and everyone around me to take me to the dentist to have them put back in. the tragic irony of the dream is that no one will.

Dream #2 "Recent Memory"
london.

Dream #3 "Ancient Memory"
i'm in black dog coffee house, my old hangout from high school. it's where all the struggling-to-be-understood-high-school-intellectuals hung out after school and on weekend nights. one of the first places in lenexa to sell fair trade...anyways, i'm myself...my age; i look like me...but all the people that i know there from the past are still stuck at that age. i recognize them but can't bring myself to talk to them because they are just so ridiculous. and i wake up and realize all those people that i thought would be friends with...including my boyfriend, are all people that i never talk to and have no desire to ever have any relationship with again.

which i guess is why, when i'm at home, i never go to black dog.

Dream #4 "New Experience"
*shivers in a dark corner on meth or something*

fake plastic trees

She lives with a broken man
A cracked polystyrene man
Who just crumbles and burns.

She looks like the real thing
She tastes like the real thing
My fake plastic love.
But I can't help the feeling
I could blow through the ceiling
If I just turn and run.
And it wears me out, it wears me out.
It wears me out, it wears me out.

And if I could be who you wanted
If I could be who you wanted
All the time....