ch ch ch chaaaanges

One day you’re all, “I’m so happy being single, I’d be fine never getting married” and thinking about traveling the world and how awesome life is without a boyfriend/husband to boss you around.

And then you’re in an apparently long-term and very long-distance relationship that your parents don’t approve of.

Dag, yo.

Also have you ever heard of Pomskies? They’re half Pomeranian, half Husky.  Friggin’ adorable.

So cute. So, so, so cute.

Advertisements

organ donor

someday

a group of scientists will
spill the contents
of my heart

out onto a white table

pick through them,
examine everything thoroughly
with
white-gloved
fingertips

and still find
only
you.

————————————————-
Creative writing class is about to start. I have to read my poems to the class.  Ugh. This needs to be over.

Pieces / Scraps

here’s to the dirty-winged
angels
out on corners
praying for cigarettes 
———————
every muffled
“are you home yet?”
whispered to myself
begs a new set of limbs
to be my first and final confessional booth
———————
Sunsets always look so
violent, bleeding into
dark like a
crucifixion, like the cuts you sometimes still
flaunt
———————
I caught the fear making you thinner,
exposing your deepest bones, but I
was discovering how to fall in mad love with the
sky, and that’s where we
parted ways
—————–
I arrive, and you’re standing there
like an ostrich in a crowd of imaginary friends
brutally upright, hesitant, filled to the brim with
small talk
 ——————-
(I never like anything fully, so here are the good bits, chopped out for you, plus a few things on their own that I couldn’t quite find the thread to complete)   
random thought:  The thing about men is that I really don’t know what I’m doing and I don’t want to be excessive.  So I rarely get in touch first, and I know this makes me seem detached. I don’t know what to do about it though, or whether I should change it.  Ah better not.  An obsessive Amy is not a pretty sight.  You’ll know if I’m into you, I can give you that much, while I may not be excessive I am definitely obvious.  and then you will be left with an unspoken “let me know” because once I make myself clear, I make myself gone, and it’s up to you whether to cut or uh. um… glue. cut or glue.  
I am in Mott and essentially this post is only because I haven’t posted in a while.  So it was not born out of some need to throw myself into a wild fit of electronical expression.  anyways all the poetry was written at some point in December.  Goodnight.
also.  I like someone.  and I think I’m at the point where I can admit that.  Goodnight again.

in which I try to leave, but am not able to pull it off

you are
a cigarette in a drought-yellowed
forest,
to be gotten rid of quick
the way birds flee from
forest fires that
only you can prevent
but don’t
 —
Finals week.  wrote something interesting but it’s in my journal at home and tonight I live at the library.
also. .. ..
 huh. tonight there is no also.  I really just want to shake my fist at my laptop and not do my final paper.  apply some good old Ctrl-Alt-Delete to my life.  (I think that doesn’t make any sense).
peace.
there’s a fine line between surrealism and pure pointless drivel.  I ate that line and licked the plate clean.
peace again.
I dunno why the word drivel always reminds me of food.  Rice pudding maybe.  Something that shouldn’t be liquid but insists on being so anyways.
last piece AH peace. (p.s.)?  turns out there were a few alsos after all.  And that word is underlined in red and it looks terrible.  The only things that should be underlined in red are the noses of gingers with really nice mustaches.  Surprisingly enough, even in this enlightened age, google will not get you a decent picture of a real nice, natural, bright red mustache.  Perhaps they don’t exist?
food for thought.
afterthought peace/piece/p.s./peas
I’m out.

general guidance for myself

this is the result of
chasing shiny things like a demented
crow and
open your head open your head your head let out the
jealous stuttering
child, kicking at mirrors and
throwing fits (you
wretchedly)

stop,

this isn’t anything you want
and you know you always end up
hating
(oh that word’s a reputation killer)
nine tenths of what you can’t have
(careless, care less, and anyways, most things
are)

birds have more self control
perhaps and
rhythm

I’ve been there, caged/uncaged
but now I settle for stripes
and leave the feathers to the
drag queens

here it is
nothing worth having
comes easy

nothing worth having
comes at all
—-
so I was feeling sad-ish because I couldn’t have what I wanted to have but hey! there’s a few billion other fish in this crazy pond and
I just had the best day ever.  love Fargo.  love swing-sets, the river, and snowball fights when everything’s melting.  Also I realized that I overthink my writing wayyy too much.  I need to just let it spill out in an obscure mess because that’s when I end up liking it the most.  I edit and edit and edit which kind of kills it.  This one I like though.
and here is some slug for you:

“and if she has the nerve to let me drop a couple last words, I’ma turn to the earth and scream
Love Your Life”

-Slug

listening to emo music from my childhood.  take a gander (listen?)

manifestos

 

http://art-by-doc.deviantart.com/art/Ready-To-Release-The-Shackles-335911497
beautiful works of magic by The Magnetic Fields


and there you are

unconventional enough to
resuscitate my heart

the way you make me feel something like
13 years younger is
uncontrollable, manifested in
how I show you my art like
maybe you’ll tape it to your fridge

I am in complete admiration of
the way you hold adjectives and nouns
captive
mangle them up and sew them together
in a colorful mass of
tangled syntax

and I’m in constant
jaw-dropped
awe

everything you do hits me hard enough to
shatter my communication skills
brain-dead my
inhibitions and (oh now)
I’m a greedy child,
only three words saturating
my veins

mine
mine
mine
——–
something random, I haven’t been writing much lately that’s worth anything.  I had a good weekend.  my Bollywood (or Tollywood I guess they call it when it’s south India) dance for Diwali night went really well.  met someone who has the capacity to make me actually wish I wasn’t single. but I’m sure that will pass.  it always does.

I stay wrecked and jealous for this one simple reason

you know those people who smile like the world is all theirs?  These are the ones I can’t help but love.

I like happy people. and I’ve only really met two in the last three years that I’d classify this way.  These people I just watch and watch and watch, because everything they do intrigues me.  Confidence without arrogance is a rare and beautiful thing.
——————————
My heart has ADD.

—-
random A.B. quote

It seemed obvious to Bebe that she needed to remedy the situation, curb her spending. So she put away the bill and logged on to Amazon.com to look for a book on the subject. She did a search and found ShoppingStoppers: The Breakthrough Best-seller that Can Help You Curb Your Compulsive Shopping. She clicked on it. The book jacket appeared on her screen. Beneath the book jacket, the text said, ‘Customers who bought this book also bought…’ and then listed seven other titles. So Bebe purchased them all, along with a book about investing in Chinese artifacts. She logged off feeling tremendous relief.” 

-Augusten Burroughs – Sellevision

In other news I’ve been listening to Taking Back to Sunday all day, (their 2002 album, Tell All Your Friends)  and it just takes me back to my junior high days like nothin’ else. the first band I ever really loved.

sloppy love-poem hammered

what is WITH these poems???  mek;ladskd.  people coming to my house. several that I have a crush on, which could make for an interesting night of Shakespearean proportions.  The comedy! the drama!
——

 well I could have been
in love
but there is a
distinct possibility

I was just intoxicated

I’m always getting drunk
on things that
aren’t alcohol

metaphorically sloshed on
the snow, the rain,
frank sinatra songs

I got smashed on a swing-set
once
you know
limbs furiously
stabbing the sky
screaming into the
wind

the way you believe
you can fly
for an infinite split-second

anyways,
that night it was you

sometimes
perfection
hits harder than an
ice-cream
truck,
harder than a
fifth of vodka

yours absolutely
floors me

Hoedown

Madness is the
deformed cousin
of genius

I can be your deformed cousin
I can be your distasteful Halloween
costume

(too much fake blood? Too many
dead crows?)

and oh heck darlin’
life won’t always be easy for us
but it sure won’t be boring

you complement my brand of lunacy
delightfully well
let’s go cook ourselves some unhinged
absurdity
———-

I will never never NEVER date someone as crazy as me. That would be a horrible disaster. It’d be fun though.

LOVE

Supported by the crutches of human impotence, the wheel of life spins inexorably. Its stops are few – until it reaches the last stop of all. When we are born, it pauses long enough to take us on, and then it stops again, this second time enchanted into momentary stillness by the miracle of love. While we stand enraptured beside our beloved, seeing the moon and the vast night sky, as it were, for the first time, the decrepit wheel dangles its crutches idly and seems to burst into fantastic bloom. This is the magic hour, and when the spinning begins again we scarcely are aware of a faint, ominous creaking noise.

-Coronets 25th Anniversary Album

you want morbid?  I’ll give you morbid, dollface.