Tuesday, February 27, 2007

how do you know?

i smell food and i feel sick and i desperately want to run away but i HAVE to go to class this time and i HAVE to write something first but i don't WANT to. bucking like a fucking chimpanzee. coughing for pleasure, writing the same things over and over. maybe i need to start doing push-ups and wearing khaki pants and drinking coffee and talking to people and whatnot. OR NOT. i'm so fantastic. right on. record store fireman jaguar sales brochure clean shoes embrace vomit let go. social studies billy gets raises and haircuts regularly, forgets himself. there's this TRICKY song called 'money greedy' and it's IN MY HEAD. i am right and good and Alive and Awake and Tired and MONEY GREEDY. carry on.

The Man

I am signed into GMail, and when I hit sign into this blog, it does it automatically. I might be a tool of the man.

Ya, mute, um, I don't have anything to say. School is very monotonous. I feel much more, um, unaware, numb, disconnected from the world than I did before grad school. Remember American Beauty? "I feel like I've been in a coma for the last 20 years" or something, and he's 42ish. Yeah. Maybe I should run my bike into a moving car. Spice up the night. Did you find out if you have to pay the guy?

Monday, February 26, 2007

and...

Gave my job notice, trying do be a student for actually now. Somebody find me an inspiring Rilo Kiley quote.

It's thirty six degrees outside. As far as I can remember, this is the part of year that summer usually starts, right?

Wamp wamp.

erm...

Blogger won't let me sign in unless I switch to a Google account. And since my account is the primary one for this blog, it says that everyone may need to use a Google account. Hope this doesn't eff anybody's ess up (Jesse). If it does, we can just torch-and-pitchfork Google.

Labels:

COMMUNITY COLLEGE CAPS LOCK

due to an occasion of overlap between my inattentiveness and go-fastness, my road bike frame is now quite fucked. which is rather devastating. but i get to renew my relationship with my mountain bike, which is a bonus. a go-anywhere, plodding sort of bonus.

and i'm off the dew for a while, and i'm at school after a very long weekend, and all i have to do is write two papers and this semester is done. (because tests don't count. they're not real.) (and when i say i'm off the dew, what i really mean is i'm out of the dew.) i'm fantasizing about getting some hamburger on my way home, cooking it, mixing it with some ramen, and having a BLAST. ye god.

my alabama friend visits portland this week. WHOA. i haven't seen him in almost six years, and i've never seen any of my alabama cohort outside of alabama. time to brush up on my drawl.

and has everyone else fallen mute, or what? geez.

Thursday, February 22, 2007

don't they have payphones wherever you were last night?

i get perverse pleasure out of coughing until i get stabbing pains in my gut. also shitty convenience stores in milwaukie. i'm relishing this decline.

bulimia nervosa, non-purging type.

i'm lying and forgetting how to stop.

it's my fault.

i adore cookies. for motherfucking real. there is no reason to ever stop eating cookies.

i give you what i wouldn't want and then i listen to songs like this
('i feel like
i wouldn't like me
if i met me')
to fill in the resulting silence. how charming.

one word and i am back where i started. chopsticks are love.

much wood.

Monday, February 19, 2007

a new laugh; jerking off to yahoo travel

i wanna fly out of this town, like now. i wanna flake on this paper and flake on these classes and flake on this school and fly away. discover my true calling in massachusetts. bike to the airport, breathe deeply on the 205 bike path, read a magazine in a vinyl chair. eat a slice of pizza in atlanta or chicago or minneapolis or salt lake city or newark, save little napkins in my pockets. see people who i used to see when i was little, people who share grandparents with me. people who know me. spend a week or so eating bits and pieces of other people's lives, swallowing their activities as my own. feeling the twitch of portland in my inactive legs, waiting with closed mouth for the chance to unlock my bike and take my chewing gum back home.

a distraction from these computer screens and deadlines and ford explorer strangers.

my diaper needs changing.

Saturday, February 17, 2007

foo fighters and new jeans

fuck you, it's sunny and i'm biking to milwaukie. everything else can fucking wait.

my teenage christian soul

what would happen if i cleaned my room and paid the overdue bills and recharged my calling card and finished my 'grad school' application and studied for my tests and read suff for class and bought real food and went to sleep earlier and woke up before noon and wrote off my silly fantasies? what would happen if i returned phone calls and turned the ringer on and put air in my tires and washed my glasses and wiped my nose and wrote thank-you notes and said happy birthday and stopped collapsing after each vague dream of heartbreak? what would happen if i stopped hurting myself and hating myself and ignoring myself and hiding myself and wasting myself? what if i said what i meant and smiled less often and moved forward with confidence and didn't fall in love with memories? would it still matter that i am untouchable, unreachable, and unlovable? would i still go to bed hungry and wake up fatigued? would i still be writing trash at one in the morning?

i know this is dumb but i do it anyway, fuck you. at least i'm fucking open in SOME venue. funny ha-ha.

Thursday, February 15, 2007

something's fishy and it's not just because of where i go to school

so i tried to sign in earlier, when i really needed to (before my paper was due and i NEEDED to jill off, now it's in and that's over), but this google bullshit made it all difficult and i got fed up. then, when i came back just now, everything was cool. what the fuck's up with that?

i am now waiting to go down to the lobby for the post-seminar beer and food. i probably shouldn't drink tonight, as i'm tired, have a scratchy throat and have an exam early tomorrow morning i haven't even begun to study for.

i probably will, though.


i feel like i've broken through some sort of unseen barrier and where i was struggling to meet anyone at all before, i have now become some sort of cool standard. people laugh at what i say again and not just because i look like a fool and it makes me feel warm and loved.

i'm vaguely suspicious of all the positive attention.

Tuesday, February 13, 2007

we're all not grown-ups here

i went out on a DATE last night. that's right, motherfuckers, an actual real date with an actual real person. who has a JOB. he's also german and owns only one movie (the big lebowski, and let me tell you, he can do a mean nihilist impression, what with the accent and all). and we went to a real grown-up place for dinner. it was a good dinner.

moving on up.

meanwhile, back at the workstation, i have to write a fake budget for a real proposal.

and i'm back down again.

Wednesday, February 07, 2007

Someone told me not to cry


























And tonight:
















But the lows are so extreme, that the good seems fucking cheap.

whatever you say.

i'm made-up. this is funny.

Monday, February 05, 2007

i heard you smile.

don't get carried away and stop whispering. i'm shedding my adornments, living off my own virtues. is that being an adult? probably. good thing that second sentence isn't true. does anyone have a blind melon album? maybe that should be the soundtrack to these naked-in-a-field dreams. why do you keep quiet keep away keep coming BLAHBLAHBLAH bored headache

listen: what the fuck? why the shit is everything so goddamn motherfucking routine? if you were to lean into me, i'd lean back. scream at me and i'll go hoarse. carouse, you clowns; we are NOT minivans. remember the shit-ass, fuck-christ reason. tell me a secret and i'll hold it for you. WALK DIFFERENTLY. there is no cock-sucking, cunt-licking fear in this world powerful enough to slow us.

i want ___.

squirt some redi-whip in your mouth and call me late at night. i'll be playing solitaire on the floor, listening to don henley, screaming LOOK AT ME as quietly as i can.

Saturday, February 03, 2007

i fancy your fancy.

some new method of staying neutral
fists full of shirtsleeve, toothpick clenched in teeth
legs crossed and jumping, arms folded, hugging myself
hat pulled low, eyes squinting at the floor

reading and re-reading brochures and business cards all day
laughing away the blurred vision
visiting all the same songs each night
playing tetris in my head rather than thinking of you

pasting together what i can remember from the list
something about japan, a phrase about bread
anything to keep your voice loud and here
keep the battle raging calmly

and my nerves make eating a chore
but anxiety is cheaper than food

---------------------

all eyes trained on me FOCUS remind me of your regard the hint of a promise of trust keeps me pacing and setting scenes in my head WHA...?

you know how sometimes your eyelids will kinda HURT when it's time to go to sleep? that's happening right now. i feel so so so rad right now, it's amazing. i cleaned up my bike (after months of riding through the most bulljazzy conditions possible) and played cards in the park and didn't eat any doughnuts or anything too weird. listened to xiu xiu and did laundry and and and YEAH.

and J-WARY'S A YEAR OLDER!! cock-ass. all my best, j-wary. maybe i'll make you a cake tomorrow.