Thursday, August 30, 2012

hit enter to leave a space after each post

i daydream my life away
too afraid to see my own world
but what would my life have been like if i'd been a real person?
oh well, i guess i'll never find out now

Tuesday, August 28, 2012

operation: upload random pictures and then caption them

seriously. random. i'm just gonna close my eyes and starting clicking buttons.

hey, guys, come look - there's some guy trapped under the water

seriously, look, he's waving back at me!

yeah, i got the same picture both times somehow.

let's take a closer look at what's happening in the photo. one bird, as we've established, is waving at his own reflection (me). another bird is drilling for oil. and the other one is pretending to be a flamingo.

in this photograph, we can clearly see the three major personality types in our society. the productive (oil driller), the actors (flamingo dude), and the utterly insane (me).

Wednesday, August 22, 2012


sometimes i just
want to push you up against a wall
and tell you there's nothing wrong with you
that the real problem here
is how often you're told there's something wrong with you

do you really think it means something
when you don't fit in with all this shit?
do you really think your brain's the problem
not the abuse and the analyzations of an incoherent
overmedicated society?

the same thing every day:
we treat the symptoms, not the illness
because the illness is
how instead of embracing individual strengths
we try to shove everyone into the same mold
focusing on the weaknesses of a few
while letting other weaknesses run rampant
and the harder we shove, the worse it gets

it's okay to be selfish, controlling, manipulative
it's okay to value money and possessions over people
it's okay to judge others based purely on what
whoever happens to be in power
seems to value

even though we read histories
of reasons people were persecuted in the past
and cry the blood of mercy for those who've suffered
we think
what fools people were then
for not having a better understanding

but what do we understand now?
tell me

you sit with me on the porch
in an evening all stars and cheap champagne
and you say
"i'm afraid."
you say
"there are things wrong with my brain."
so tell me whose brain is perfect, then

it's not that i mean to undervalue your pain
it's not that i don't realize
you have things on your mind
you might not be ready to talk about yet

it's just that i wish i had the courage
to look you in the eye
and tell you you're not crazy
and i wish that there was any reason you'd believe me

Saturday, August 18, 2012

dreams: busride

people wonder sometimes why i make such a big deal out of being unhappy, why i can't just suck it up and deal with it like everyone else. maybe i just remember my dreams too well (i don't mean "hopes," here, i'm referring to actual asleep at night dreams). like the one i woke up from this morning:

i got on a bus i didn't want to get on, to go some place i didn't feel like going. trudging through is useful much of the time, but i was having one of my "i need to step outside of this right now" days. i ignored the feeling, however, and kept on moving through my day.
almost as soon as the bus left the stop, it blew a tire. as the driver struggled to regain control, he aimed the bus off the road and toward a fence. but it hit the fence just a little too hard and started rolling backward, until it hit a shopping cart. the shopping cart got wedged under it in such a way as to cause it to tip over.
the whole time i'd been thinking some combination  of "i should'nt've gotten on this bus" and "no it'll be okay. i had no way of knowing. and i 'm overreacting."
and as the bus fell onto its side and i was looking down at the glass that would break under me, thinking about the people who would land on me, wondeing if we were going to skid along the ground or if the gas tank would explode, all i could think was "if i die here, no-one will ever even know i didn't want to get on this bus. i could've been somewhere else right now.

and then my alarm woke me up to start the day. so, here i am. lunch break. coffee shop. writing about my dream.


Wednesday, August 15, 2012

turtle island

i just can't seem to find enough sea glass
to build the vase of my dreams
and as i glue the fragments together
i can see the obvious differences
between what i'm doing
and what i thought i'd be doing

i waited a lifetime on turtle island
hoping i'd find you there
but your ship never came
and before too long i sailed away
to a place of headaches and regret

it's not that i haven't loved this journey
it's just that i thought it'd be over by now
i thought we would be
sprawled out in the sand
covered in sea weed
laughing at the sky
laughing at our own stories
of the time we spent apart

i thought i would be
standing with you like i was in my dream
feeling the type of bliss i've blocked from my waking sense
because there's no sense in remembering
what may not come again

and what would it take, i wonder
for me to break away from this old longing?
how happy would i have to be to forget you?

if you could let me know you've forgotten me
a part of me would die
but another part of me could live

though i'd rather go back to turtle island
and meet you there
and bask in all the parts of dreams i've hidden away