adventures in aimlessness

speak in parables
i don't want your meaning
keep it all a mystery wrapped in a lie
shocking how easily they fall off the tongue
'i forgive you, i love you, i don't think less of you'

the thing is, i can forgive many things, but sordidness is apparently not one of them.
there are some things i just don't want to know
i don't know how to handle
i'm not as good a friend as i might like
but at least i'm not lying to myself about that

when you close a volume of your life, sometimes people get stuck in the ephemera of the last story and don't make it into the next one. and so it goes.

so long, fare well. i don't love you anymore.



i'm glad music can still give me the chills.

put life on hold

out of sorts
with no one to sort me out

bite the hand that pets me
the one that feeds me is my own

worry about everything but what needs worrying
work it out in the dreams i don't remember
wake out with my teeth ground to dust
(who needs them anyway)

i try to not believe that if you don't let them close, they can't hurt you, but it keeps on being true.

they don't love what i love
they don't sing what i sing
they don't read wnat i read
they aren't me
how lonely. guess i'll go eat worms.

i'm drawing a blank

when asked to name two things i like about myself, i was completely unable to think of anything. i could think of lots of things that i like. but nothing that i like about myself. wow do i suck.

here are two for the road:
- my smile
- my capacity for love

dry your eyes child, you've got no reason to cry

i'm such a terrible hypocrite
speak two things at once

it's all such a pose
i've really got a bed of sunshine and roses (sans thorns, of course)

those who pulled me into this world actually did their job
any broken bits are only my fault
so i really shouldn't complain
but i do any way (of course)

it's all such a pose
darkened eyes
catchy shoes
the down-turned mouth fake till it becomes fact
and then there's no turning back

regrets pile up by the gallon
till i'm on a crash course with no recourse
and it's all my own damn fault
no one ever told me to
but i did it anyway

the blood and bone and brain will be splattered
and mine
and it will beautiful
my greatest achievement
my contribution to the world
(to take myself out of it)

(remember, it's all just a pose)

thank god you see me the way you do, strange as you are to me

the act of touching that place from whence you came is close to nothing else

i keep finding that i'm terrible at keeping my center
i keep needing someone else to find it for me
no good can come of this

touchstone, center, origin, home

how do i keep a hold on it?
to know what is important and not
to know what is valuable and not
to know what is worth my heart and what should be left at the kerb.


for now, i am refreshed
but what will happen when i go into the world again
alone and lost, a terrible thing to be
with all the things that bring me back to where i ought to be scattered across the surface of the earth in such a way as to be beyond my reach for the foreseeable future, which might as well be forever



and that, frankly will not fly, you will hear the shrillest highs and lowest lows with the windows down when this is guiding you home



best at borrowing trouble and not giving it back
but burning bridges is too much fun
(do you know what that means 'cause i don't, but it sure sounds good, alliteration tastes good on the tip of my tongue)



love is a fragile word
(this is my bright idea)