A few questions for you...how...why...
What the pools mean in your face
How I want to dive in but have no problem resisting
Why so many words come to mind
So when you come around
It's so special. Like an angel dropping by
To say hello and drink some tea.
Why you have those eyes
Because they're so alive
It's disturbing that they aren't meant for me.
Friday, December 2, 2011
See? (Previously Recorded)
Clear face
I see you first
Before you do
Clear sky
Too far away
Why I cry
Clear touch
Yes you did
I felt it
Clear aaaaah
He just kissed him
"I can't"
Clear tone
Nelling the end
It's done
Clear fate
I won't die
I won't
Clear lie
It's my lie
I won't
I see you first
Before you do
Clear sky
Too far away
Why I cry
Clear touch
Yes you did
I felt it
Clear aaaaah
He just kissed him
"I can't"
Clear tone
Nelling the end
It's done
Clear fate
I won't die
I won't
Clear lie
It's my lie
I won't
To John Smith, Love Pocahontas (Previously Recorded)
My feet mash down dead pine needles
On your face
No really
I mean to be that blunt
Covering your memory
God it smells good
A smell you can taste
A smell you can drink
Binding your future
Freeing mine up
Running through an army of dark tree trunks
Your face under each bound
Thanks for the support.
On your face
No really
I mean to be that blunt
Covering your memory
God it smells good
A smell you can taste
A smell you can drink
Binding your future
Freeing mine up
Running through an army of dark tree trunks
Your face under each bound
Thanks for the support.
(K) pareve (Previously Recorded)
I close the door
Lock, relock
How locked can I lock it
I shut windows
Dust is dangerous
Still water, Legionaires'
I paste the cracks
With my knees
Bees knees
With melting wax
Slippery sheets and pleats
I close my eyes
With contacts in
And falling flakes
My path to make
Lock, relock
How locked can I lock it
I shut windows
Dust is dangerous
Still water, Legionaires'
I paste the cracks
With my knees
Bees knees
With melting wax
Slippery sheets and pleats
I close my eyes
With contacts in
And falling flakes
My path to make
Empty Hope (Previously Recorded)
I was cleaning and I found an old diary. Moleskine. I remember it costing a bit. Read through it, and it speaks for itself:
January 1, 2004
Austin, TX- Laying with S watching VH-1. I'm looking at a sexy patch of skin and he doesn't know. S told me this'll be a big year (which I hope it is) and he said he wants to help me get what I want and be where I wanna be. His faith in me is so scary - like nothing I've faced. It poured out of him last night when he was drunk and now I'm beginning to see it in him all the time - to always see that warm, wet smile and the mad hope in his eyes.
January 2, 2004
::ELVIS LIVES sticker on the page::
Austin, TX- Sitting here while S is outside. Went to see Cold Mountain. I said it was poorly directed but I liked it. The characters were great. LA is void of character. S and I spent the day with Sammy, a friend from NU. Sammy's brother passed away a few months ago. He seems to be doing great. All in all today was full of ponderances of death and love. Is S the love of my life? If not, what will our relationship become? He's my big keeper right now - the one thing in my life that I've found and worked for, that keeps me safe, that I want for permanent.
January 3, 2004
DFW- Met S's parents - harmless!! Sitting across from a girl I swear is slowly turning into a zombie. S and I had a tearful talk last night along the lines of the end of my last entry. Amazingly we were on the same page - feeling regret for something that hasn't happened yet. We talked about death, dying alone, regret, hurt, goodness - a laundry list. As he cried I just held him. He does not cry. And, over night, the most astonishing dream. I'm trying so hard not to give words to how present and naked we see each other.
January 4, 2004
Los Angeles, CA- Back. Is it all lost so fast? I haven't even showered yet, and when I do, believe me it will be scouring. I'm trying not to live too much in anticipation of the next few days. I'm starting - no I DO see now how much I've been living in the service of others when I have so much to take care of. I see a more muscled and active man emerging through my melting skin. This year will be a story to tell. I can feel it. Mrs. Corral, 9th Grade English teacher says to keep your mind on the story and take fewer commas. "When in doubt, leave it out!"
January 5, 2004
West Hollywood, CA- Taking a moment out of cleaning to reflect on my depression - well, my depression and how S deals with it. What I'm wondering is how much does it matter that he doesn't have a natural ability to handle me. That's unanswerable.
When I'm depressed, I feel like I've never been happy. It's only later that I feel some levity and remember the joys of life. I am noticing though that my demeanor greatly improved with on & a half Buspar.
January 7, 2004
Weho- Played a lot of Prince of Persia today. What good can be taken from that. Well, you can't do it every day, but I got a ton of stress relief.
I discovered today why I loved creating in college. I knew the general safe structure of putting on a college show. So, I leapt head-first into it, but it was still safe.
"Nosebleed" ceases to be interesting when I stop taking chances and stop jumping in head-first.
OKEY- a few blank pages here now while some bad stuff was going on.
January 18, 2004
A lot has happened in the last while. I'm no longer with S, but we slept together last night! I've tried to like a few unlikeable guys. I was set to move out when I realized I got a good thing goin'.
"Matt, you know you're a really awesome guy. I've never met anyone like you. The way you think is incredible. If I were available I'd snatch you up." -Mardi
"If anyone gets to know you, they'll fall in love with you." -S (ed.: HOW IRONIC ergh)
January 19, 2004
I'm about to get a well-deserved sleep as I've spent most of the day cleaning and running errands. There's a lifetime of work to be done to make a life - to make a home. What about our generation drives us to evolve the collective consciousness - to expand society? There's nothing so poetic as Thoreau, or so rebellious, in this yawning question: Why not live simply? Yet, we wait for our deepest purpose to surface. We exist in waiting - we stave off futility with an empty hope.
AND FOLKS - that's when I stopped journaling.
January 1, 2004
Austin, TX- Laying with S watching VH-1. I'm looking at a sexy patch of skin and he doesn't know. S told me this'll be a big year (which I hope it is) and he said he wants to help me get what I want and be where I wanna be. His faith in me is so scary - like nothing I've faced. It poured out of him last night when he was drunk and now I'm beginning to see it in him all the time - to always see that warm, wet smile and the mad hope in his eyes.
January 2, 2004
::ELVIS LIVES sticker on the page::
Austin, TX- Sitting here while S is outside. Went to see Cold Mountain. I said it was poorly directed but I liked it. The characters were great. LA is void of character. S and I spent the day with Sammy, a friend from NU. Sammy's brother passed away a few months ago. He seems to be doing great. All in all today was full of ponderances of death and love. Is S the love of my life? If not, what will our relationship become? He's my big keeper right now - the one thing in my life that I've found and worked for, that keeps me safe, that I want for permanent.
January 3, 2004
DFW- Met S's parents - harmless!! Sitting across from a girl I swear is slowly turning into a zombie. S and I had a tearful talk last night along the lines of the end of my last entry. Amazingly we were on the same page - feeling regret for something that hasn't happened yet. We talked about death, dying alone, regret, hurt, goodness - a laundry list. As he cried I just held him. He does not cry. And, over night, the most astonishing dream. I'm trying so hard not to give words to how present and naked we see each other.
January 4, 2004
Los Angeles, CA- Back. Is it all lost so fast? I haven't even showered yet, and when I do, believe me it will be scouring. I'm trying not to live too much in anticipation of the next few days. I'm starting - no I DO see now how much I've been living in the service of others when I have so much to take care of. I see a more muscled and active man emerging through my melting skin. This year will be a story to tell. I can feel it. Mrs. Corral, 9th Grade English teacher says to keep your mind on the story and take fewer commas. "When in doubt, leave it out!"
January 5, 2004
West Hollywood, CA- Taking a moment out of cleaning to reflect on my depression - well, my depression and how S deals with it. What I'm wondering is how much does it matter that he doesn't have a natural ability to handle me. That's unanswerable.
When I'm depressed, I feel like I've never been happy. It's only later that I feel some levity and remember the joys of life. I am noticing though that my demeanor greatly improved with on & a half Buspar.
January 7, 2004
Weho- Played a lot of Prince of Persia today. What good can be taken from that. Well, you can't do it every day, but I got a ton of stress relief.
I discovered today why I loved creating in college. I knew the general safe structure of putting on a college show. So, I leapt head-first into it, but it was still safe.
"Nosebleed" ceases to be interesting when I stop taking chances and stop jumping in head-first.
OKEY- a few blank pages here now while some bad stuff was going on.
January 18, 2004
A lot has happened in the last while. I'm no longer with S, but we slept together last night! I've tried to like a few unlikeable guys. I was set to move out when I realized I got a good thing goin'.
"Matt, you know you're a really awesome guy. I've never met anyone like you. The way you think is incredible. If I were available I'd snatch you up." -Mardi
"If anyone gets to know you, they'll fall in love with you." -S (ed.: HOW IRONIC ergh)
January 19, 2004
I'm about to get a well-deserved sleep as I've spent most of the day cleaning and running errands. There's a lifetime of work to be done to make a life - to make a home. What about our generation drives us to evolve the collective consciousness - to expand society? There's nothing so poetic as Thoreau, or so rebellious, in this yawning question: Why not live simply? Yet, we wait for our deepest purpose to surface. We exist in waiting - we stave off futility with an empty hope.
AND FOLKS - that's when I stopped journaling.
Purple Scribbles (Previously Recorded)
I.
Can I write anything that will be interesting at all to anyone if I know nothing about what I love but only what I hate and can I ever be happy if my relationships with people exist in degrees of my hate for them and the expectations that I believe they have for me even though most of that is decided beforehand by me and will only stand to be proven right never disproved or created anew. If I'm striving to stop striving and to let myself grow in my own unique energy in this world I have to stop creating the world with my brain. There is no room for love - even here where I hate and reject my brain and my uncontrolled expectations. At least I don't hate words. Everything sort of flies and sticks to the + or - side of the pole and nothing can live in between without freakin' out. I have a persecution complx and nothing valuable comes out of it. Created obstacles lead to bullshit. The true obstacles come unasked for and if I want obstacles so much why do I try and put them up. No, I don't mean that - what I mean is why do I get so angry at the ones I don't create.
II.
Don't you laugh - don't you fucking laugh. Don't - you are out of hand. You have no idea how stupid you look.
III.
Forces of nature - Dad's employers. What is my great enemy right now?
IV.
The mood of all the people in that room across the hall
V.
The final cataract has burst a crack
Across its concrete face and looms above
A peopled village while it drips its threat -
A rusty fan of mildew from the flow
Of trickling river water breaking through
A full five feet of labor made and true
Protection from the churning river held
Against its Godmade path
VI.
Who puts the pebbles and the sticky flecks
Of fuzz across my hardwood floor to plague
My life with endless pauses taken out to pick
The sticky bit thats burroughed in its own
Made enclave in the callous belly of
My angry foot, for me to totter on
One leg in hot frustration anxious bent
On locating the bit to minimize
The time I spend so I can put the foot
Back down before I fall.
Can I write anything that will be interesting at all to anyone if I know nothing about what I love but only what I hate and can I ever be happy if my relationships with people exist in degrees of my hate for them and the expectations that I believe they have for me even though most of that is decided beforehand by me and will only stand to be proven right never disproved or created anew. If I'm striving to stop striving and to let myself grow in my own unique energy in this world I have to stop creating the world with my brain. There is no room for love - even here where I hate and reject my brain and my uncontrolled expectations. At least I don't hate words. Everything sort of flies and sticks to the + or - side of the pole and nothing can live in between without freakin' out. I have a persecution complx and nothing valuable comes out of it. Created obstacles lead to bullshit. The true obstacles come unasked for and if I want obstacles so much why do I try and put them up. No, I don't mean that - what I mean is why do I get so angry at the ones I don't create.
II.
Don't you laugh - don't you fucking laugh. Don't - you are out of hand. You have no idea how stupid you look.
III.
Forces of nature - Dad's employers. What is my great enemy right now?
IV.
The mood of all the people in that room across the hall
V.
The final cataract has burst a crack
Across its concrete face and looms above
A peopled village while it drips its threat -
A rusty fan of mildew from the flow
Of trickling river water breaking through
A full five feet of labor made and true
Protection from the churning river held
Against its Godmade path
VI.
Who puts the pebbles and the sticky flecks
Of fuzz across my hardwood floor to plague
My life with endless pauses taken out to pick
The sticky bit thats burroughed in its own
Made enclave in the callous belly of
My angry foot, for me to totter on
One leg in hot frustration anxious bent
On locating the bit to minimize
The time I spend so I can put the foot
Back down before I fall.
Steinbeck
A sad soul can kill quicker than a germ.
-john steinbeck
There are some among us who live in rooms of experience we can never enter
-john steinbeck
One can find so many pains when the rain is falling.
-john steinbeck
It is a common experience that a problem difficult at night is resolved in the morning after the committee of sleep has worked on it.
-john steinbeck
Men do change, and change comes like a little wind that ruffles the curtains at dawn, and it comes like the stealthy perfume of wildflowers hidden in the grass.
-john steinbeck
We are lonesome animals. We spend all our life trying to be less lonesome. One of our ancient methods is to tell a story begging the listener to say -- and to feel -- ''Yes, that's the way it is, or at least that's the way I feel it. You're not as alone as you thought."
-john steinbeck
It doesn't matter that Cathy was what I have called a monster. Perhaps we can't understand Cathy, but on the other hand we are capable of many things in all directions, of great virtues and great sins. And who in his mind has not probed the black water?
-john steinbeck
A woman can change better'n a man. A man lives, sorta, well, in jerks. Baby's born and somebody dies, and that's a jerk. He gets a farm or loses it, and that's a jerk. With a woman, it's all in one flow like a stream. Little eddies and waterfalls, but the river it goes right on. A woman looks at it that way.
-john steinbeck
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