I know I’m not what you anticipated

So today for my Intro to Education Class I had to observe a middle school class being taught. It’s been around 6 years since I’ve been in middle school and it was REALLY interesting to see what has changed.  I know I was an exceptionally awkward child… but even so…. these girls are like extremely skinny, short sorority girls!  Seriously!  They’ve got that perfect California bleached blond hair going on… and they know how to use makeup.  When I was in eighth grade I crayoned on so much black eyeliner on I looked like Helena Bonham Carter in Sweeney Todd.  Actually probably even worse…

I watched a kid literally EAT his pencil which was pretty fun.  And some kid exclaimed loudly, “I’m NOT a kid!  I’m a preteen!”  which was mildly hilarious to me.  I can almost remember being proud of my preteen status way back in the day.   actually come on… this kid was in eighth grade!  aren’t you a teenager at that age?  13 at least?  I am confused. anyways.

here is something for you.  happy halloween

Warning!  I love Kate Nash but I HATE this video.  Freaks me out.   It seemed appropriate for Halloween though so have at it.

and you’re probably addicted to all types of escape

there are things growing
in my fridge or
brain at
night
as though I have wasted everything
unconsumed

I am one year older
and all the constellations speak of a
wildness my feet have dreamed
of touching since I learned how to
consume ink

the future is yanking my name
from his bucket of things to do
the map above my bed screams
so loud
the nails fastening it to the wall
suddenly sharp in my lungs
my shaking hands know only three words
escape
escape
escape

I’m a closet claustrophobic
addicted to a future of
plane-ticket elsewheres

halfway between the here and
gone
desperate to be lost
before my passport expires
 ——-
I hang out with too many foreigners.  Last night my friend told me he could possibly get me a job teaching English in Bahrain next year…. Now THAT is the kind of thing that changes everything.  I really don’t think it will happen.  I can’t.  Things never work out and it’s doubtful this will either.  Plus it would be REALLY dangerous to live there, especially as a woman.

This weekend I almost died twice.  Spun out on black ice twice, crashed down into a ditch the second time….. I have no rear-view mirror and I am really scared to find out what it will cost me to to replace it.   A beautiful man came and helped us out of the ditch.  I may go all Cinderella and scour Fargo looking for him.  Well. maybe not.

The end of something I wrote:

you are standing there
eyes broadcasting enough
optimism to blind me
I cannot bear your eager
hopefulness
I cannot bear your shy
wide eyed
happiness
here is your fortune:
you will fall so hard that
you will not be able to get up
you will give everything
and be left with
nothing
greedily snatched at with
grasping hands
chewed up like cotton candy
thrown away like
broken mouse
ears

Asking Too Much – Andrea Gibson

Excerpts:

“I want you to tell me about every person you’ve ever been in love with. Tell me why you loved them, then tell me why they loved you. Tell me about a day in your life you didn’t think you’d live through. Tell me what the word “home” means to you and tell me in a way that I’ll know your mothers name just by the way you describe your bed room when you were 8. See, I wanna know the first time you felt the weight of hate and if that day still trembles beneath your bones.


Do you think that anger is a sincere emotion or just the timid motion of a fragile heart trying to beat away its pain? See, I wanna know what you think of your first name. And if you often lie awake at night and imagine your mothers joy when she spoke it for the very first time. I want you tell me all the ways you’ve been unkind. Tell me all the ways you’ve been cruel. Tell me, knowing I often picture Gandhi at ten years old beating up little boys at school. If you were walking by a chemical plant, where smoke stacks were filling the sky with dark, black clouds, would you holler, “Poison! Poison! Poison!” really loud or would you whisper, “That cloud looks like a fish, and that cloud looks like a fairy”? Do you believe that Mary was really a virgin? Do you believe that Moses really parted the sea?

See, I wanna know if you believe in any God, or if you believe in many gods. Or better yet, what gods believe in you. And for all the times you’ve knelt before the temple of yourself, have the prayers you’ve asked come true? And if they didn’t did you feel denied? And if you felt denied, denied by who[m]? I wanna know what you see when you look in the mirror on a day you’re feeling good. I wanna know what you see in the mirror on a day you’re feeling bad. I wanna know the first person who ever taught you your beauty could ever be reflected on a lousy piece of glass. If you ever reach enlightenment, will you remember how to laugh? Have you ever been a song? Would you think less of me if I told you I have lived my entire life a little off key and I’m not nearly as smart as my poetry, I just plagiarized the thoughts of the people around me who have learned the wisdom of silence. Do you believe that concrete perpetuates violence? And if you do I want you to tell me of a meadow where my skateboard will soar. See, I wanna know more than what you do for a living. I wanna know how much of your life you spend just giving. And if you love yourself enough to also receive sometimes. I wanna know if you bleed sometimes through other people’s wounds.

If a tree fell in the forest, and you were the only one there to hear it, if its fall to the ground didn’t make a sound, would you panic in fear that you didn’t exist or would you bask in the bliss of your nothingness?”


 ——————————————————-

(I’m sorry. it’s another. but aieee I love this. I love it. going on my wall.)

Yarn

Another… because I love andrea gibson

excerpt from “Yarn”

When I say that I miss you, I mean something more.
I mean I’ve been biding my time till you kiss me again.
I keep poems like secrets, then tell them when I’m tired of hiding who I am.
I am missing you most in the silence between songs on my favorite records.
Sometimes it takes so long for the music to start.
Is there a shoreline where the seaweed holds the rocks so tight they soften into sand?
Is it too late to say that’s how my heart feels in your hands,
like you could sift it through an hourglass, and pass it off as time?
Never stood still and neither did I. But I will. If you let me.
In your arms, I forget what the yarn knows of sweaters.
I forget how to hold myself together, so if I unfold now, like a love letter,
tell me you’ll write back soon. Tell me you’ll still come untethered.
I saw the moon last night for the first time in months.
She reminded me of you, slouching stubborn in the light.
I’d fight battles against the sun to rest against you tonight, to feel your breath on my pillow.
Those songbirds outside your window are dropping feathers like I dropped words.
I’m cold from all that came out wrong. I sleep alone now, even when I don’t.
I sleep backbone to floorboards cos they’re softer than regret.
Don’t let me go. Don’t let me go yet.
I traced your silhouette on the skyline.
Your crooked spine bent meadows into mountains I climbed to watch the sun set.
The sky never looked so gorgeous. All those fallen stars, sick and tired of being famous.
That man next door with his old violin. I swore his song could save us.

i wish i was a photograph

do you remember the night I told you
I’ve never seen anything more perfect than
than snow falling in the glow of a street light
electricity bowing to nature
mind bowing to heartbeat
‘this is gonna hurt’
bowing to I love you
I still love you like moons love the planets
they circle around
like children love recess bells
I still hear the sound of you
and think of playgrounds
where outcasts who stutter
beneath braces and bruises and acne
are finally learning that their
rich handsome bullies
are never gonna grow up to be happy

I think of happy when I think of you”
-Andrea Gibson

Good skincare techniques

An old woman once told me the secret to looking young at 95

Love Everybody

—-

It’s so simple, really.  Sometimes I wonder why we even need all these religions.  I will start my own:  Throw love around like a contagion.

 As Slug said,   “I’ll make you smile from the simple fact I’m good at it, I’ll make you smile just so I can sit and look at it”

oh and my Muslim friend is trying to get me to convert to Islam… it is very unlikely that I will.  but I told him to get me a copy of the Qur’an in English, and I will certainly discuss it with him.  These are my conceptions of it (of course I have never read it, so who knows how accurate they are):

1.  It says women are inferior to men
2.  talks a lot about killing “infidels”
3.  They can’t eat pork
4.  Jesus was a prophet, not God

I will let you know what I learn.  Should be interesting.