also thanks for this hat

which i rarely take off.

well, universe

you are very good to me lately.
thanks for the kick ass internship,
and the even more kick ass scholarship.
thanks for the job at the vegan bakery where my favorite lady in all this city works with me.
thanks for my bike and my brudder and my bulldog.
thanks for letters from Liverpool,
and for Thom Yorke.
thanks for cafe au lait's and driving without direction and cookies.

THE WORLD IS SHIFTING, LOOK AROUND YOU.

boundless

meaningful in its meaningless:
windows rolled down
nightair canopied outstretched 
fingers
memorized streets flushed with 
the transience of our 
itching notions

we spoke of the seemingly surreal future
getting out of this red, square place
and slipping into a big city blissfully
unnoticed

words became arbitrary
as we pulled into the driveway
kicked back our seats
cried defiantly 
            the pending beauty
            the potential tragedy
            the growth spurt still
quivering in  muscle spasms


Clarity:
the world holds more for us

love is not passive

i'm not sure if i finally let it go,
but i am sure as hell trying. i think the hurt followed me around like a ghost, but i never looked over my shoulder until
last night. i thought you'd be as desperate for me as i (irrationally) was for you. and i guess hearing,
''i can never let you into my life again, because you hurt me too much''
was enough to weep myself clean of it all.
i feel a lightheavy sensation. where you once fermented in my head, there is a white coat of paint. deliberate strokes to cover
what i can no longer clench my fists around.
if i run into somewhere along the line, your eyes will be rough waters and i will wonder if you wondered about me.

goodbye,
you never really knew me anyway.

self p.2

i know i can exist without the feeling of you in my chest

self p. 1

what might have been lost?

WHERE WAS MY FAULT,
IN LOVING YOU WITH MY WHOLE HEART?

multum in parvo

touch.

so cold it's hot.

longing.

a cat who almost jumps in the tub but hesitates and instead lets his
paw
skim the water.

tightrope hopes.

guilessly: i find your beauty agonizing.

things you should listen to

-Joshua James 'Sing Songs' EP....Ribbon Bows is my favorite but give em all a whirl.

-Neon Indian- Deadbeat Summer

-Fleet Foxes- Helplessness Blues. new album!

-Mumford & Sons- White Blank Page

-Heartless Bastards- The Mountain

-Northwestern Girls- Say Hi. or any Say Hi.

-Adele-Rolling in the Deep. damn this lady and her insane pipes. so good.

and don't forget King of Limbs!

unrelated.

holding this guitar
because i like the weight, the mystique of its strings.
i am no musician
but find comfort in an instrument i know i will never understand.

you hurt me more than anyone in my entire life'

'is that because you loved me more than anyone in your entire life?'

i am the type who runs away to avoid goodbyes. and then i get homesick and want what no longer exists. an architect of hypothetical buildings.

my dog is more honest than any human i know, and for that, she is my company of choice.

resolutions, late:

-fight for something
-connect impulse to action
-scream
-allow free expression
-surprise myself
-make ugly art
-release tension
-finish things
-stretch perspective
-be good to body
-meditate
-get close
-eliminate hesitation
-embrace BOLD

squeal

um. um. um. I am freaking out. I just got offered a full ride scholarship to my number one choice school. FULL RIDE. that means free. that means no money. hot damn, this is the best day ever.

slowly

this thing happens where he tells me to listen to a song he wrote and my heart crinkles and i know it's about

me. and what happened. with us. and that hurts but in the way that is so honest, i can't help but listen overoveroveroverandover       alas.

reassurance

sometimes, the only need in the world
is to lie
on 
the floor.

clarity

all bad things that happen are of your choosing. the mistake is not in choosing them, but in calling them bad. for in calling them bad, you call yourself bad since you created them. it is in this intellectual and spiritual dishonesty that you accept a world in which conditions are as they are. create change not because a thing is wrong, but because it no longer makes an accurate statement of who you are.

someloves

i love when my sweater absorbs the smell of coffee shop. i also love late night (non-decaf) coffee. i love adults vastly more than i love my own age group. mostly because adults have moved past the kind of petulance i detest.  i love free stickers. i love the idea of never having a baby. i love that i am some sort of freak who thrives in gloomy weather. i love my journal more than any physical object. i love my bulldog and how she is so honest. i love stark things. i love not sleeping and writing instead. i love how much dormant love i have. i love the absurdity of dreams that never feels absurd. i love eating a whole pint of coffee ice cream myself. i love when a song makes me burst. i love loves.

HOLYSHITRADIOHEADRADIOHEADRADIOHEAD!!!!

Slowly we unfurl

As lotus flowers

And all I want is the moon upon a stick

Dancing around the pit

Just to see what it is

I can't kick the habit

Just to feed your fast ballooning head

Listen to your heart

Say Hi

this is a show i am oh so glad i attended. 

also, he makes me want to attempt to learn bass 

which i have attempted a billion times,

but hey.

inspiration's always good.

freak snow storm

when the bus never shows

and my toes are frozen with waiting

maybe the universe is trying to tell me something.

all i really want in the whole world; a list:

-to be able to see every show my heart desires, regardless of age.
-for buses to always show up.
-endless vegan cinnamon rolls. which are better. it's okay if you call hipster on me.
-a job as a writer, or, more realistically, a baker
-for Nicholas Cage to either not exist or wear a sign forever that says, 'I AM NOT AN ACTOR AND NEVER WILL BE'
-decisions to make themselves
-friends without having to make friends
-my poetry printed. anywhere.
-for all the albums i am pining for to magically appear
-big conversation. i miss this. i miss this the most.

readit

Everything Is Illuminated by Jonathon Safran Foer is the best novel I have ever read. And I know I always say that about whatever I am currently reading. But I don't see how anything else will ever compare.


"I love you also means I love you more than anyone loves you, or has loved you, or will love you, and also, I love you in a way that no one loves you, or has loved you, or will love you, and also, I love you in a way that I love no one else, and never have loved anyone else, and never will love anyone else." 

soaked

gas station
rainstorm being a
wild understatement
we stood on the car
with purple snowcones
and screamed
THIS IS THE FUCKING BEST

it was.

Radiohead's gotta new album on Saturday.

But I think this song will always be my favorite.

you paint yourself white

and fill up with noise

but there'll be something missing.

Or maybe this song.

a heart that's full up like a landfill
a job that slowly kills you
bruises that won't heal
you look so tired, unhappy
bring down the government
they don't, they don't speak for us

Or maybe favorites are hard to choose.

-tonight i wrote 4 poems.
-poems are the only thing that make sense to me as of late.
-tomorrow, i am getting four teeth pulled from my head. i will be all the less wise, apparently.
-bikes rides are the best therapy i have know of.
-red lipstick has seamlessly become part of my personality since approximately last Thursday.
-i don't know what to do with myself, so mostly i write.
-the binding on my journal is splitting. which makes me torn up.
-i miss my best friend like the cookie monster misses cookies.
-i believe firmly that everyone should wake up to a kitten purring in their ear.
-i am all sorts of ancient feelings and ready for this threshold to open up and let me tumble         into the undiscovered
-i have given up on sleep completely
-my favorite foods include falafel that is not dry, Nepalese mango pudding, cinnamon toast, pears, and things that make me dreadfully sick, such as lasagna.

watching my brain wreck

and i'm standing with arms crossed

and still see in color, uzi & ari sings my heart back to me, especially in the wee hours of the morning.

half of the time we're gone, but we don't know where

favorite shot of the day.

cancer of the blood

at the theatre,

a man sits in front of me

and i ache at how my view will be obstructed

then i notice the

shape of it:

how the hair is mostly gone

and the ears are a little large.

inexplicably, or maybe explicably,

it reminds me of

Thomas.

who is gone, those cells that spread through the

spine.

the thing that hurts about seeing that motif of his head,

is how i never said

i love you,

                                                                                                                                            and i could have

in regards to a musician

i once loved a boy

who lived on Wilson avenue

i could never get there fast enough

but always in my car, before i lock the doors

i sit very still and close my eyes a moment,

as if love needs preparation.

then covertly i look in his open living room window

and see him holding his guitar like an old friend

with his sleepy hair and that cat who is jealous of the

attention he gives me.

and i am looking at a person that i know in such detail,

and yet

not at all.

we hug big after i ring the doorbell

and i do not have the heart to say

how empty it feels.

maelstrom

conclusion: i want Utah to be the place for me, but repeatedly become acquainted with the notion that it simply is not. i do not know how to talk to fake people. i do not know how to talk to cute glasses wearing hot drink making people. i do not understand how i can hand out ten fecking resumes and not receive one phone call. when i breathe in deep, i hit a chord that i wish did not exist. i feel sad when i get kicked out of a closing coffee shop and have no where to go except an empty house that is not mine. that guy who sat in front of me tonight had a head that inexplicably reminded me of my dear lost-to-a-treacherous-disease friend. running away is appealing, but that would only mean missing what i sort of have here. staying here is not appealing, but i am out of brilliant alternatives until college rolls around.college better not suck.

february

tea hot down my throat

tears are words i never said

they tumble and are silent

forever.

everyone's mom is dying of a cancer

and my mom is my only friend.

i think i am lucky

i think they are too,

they just don't know it y et.

tally marking lonely nights

only makes them more

lonely,

it is better to have foresight

and think, ''someday,

someone will love me every night

and we will get dressed up and always

have somewhere to go''

bottomless pit

it is ten years

3650 days.

of a war

with its basis being:

a lie.

a lie easily shoved down throats

throats of citizens who go to work

and watch tv

and shop for always low prices at Walmart

where war is something dirty and far away.

but hey, having a Support Our Troops bumper sticker really helps.

and the government truly is looking out for you.

paytaxesobeylawsfeedthemachine.

God Bless America,

the only country too ignorant to realize its own corruption.

our idea of truth is blind,

and robbing from the blind is easy.

i am one person

i am one disgusted person
i can say, 'fuck the system'

all i damn well please

but talk is cheap.

i am out to change.

this newly legal adult will write what she sees.

without censorship.

she will seek the raw and the undesirable.

and share it.

this may be small.

it may be inconsequential.

but one truth is not greater than another.

a truth simply is.

why hide?

hi, i am a journalist.

in Kiagen's ideal world., she spends every second in the SLUG mag building. she sips on her rose petal tea while all sorts of new music is played in the background and the work is slightly tedious but makes her unequivocally happy. her lips are red and she feels both adult and glamorous. she sits next to someone she has her eye on for he is exactly the bearded, quiet type she admires most. she finishes her task and makes the editor pleased. she is a journalist. she knows that this is exactly the work she wants to be doing for the rest of her life.


five hours a week isn't enough.

''and the future hangs over our heads

and it moves with each current event

until it falls all around like a cold, steady rain

just stay in when it's looking this way''

-bright eyes

brudder+kitten

bonhiver

big snow

like the sloppy cutouts of kindergarten

hitting the cracked sidewalk with naivety

a fall frozen with oblivion.

enviable, for my tumbles are laced with fear

and the distinct knowledge of the hard ground.

yestermonth

words are rocks in my mouth and

i think obeying traffic laws in the

middle of the night is stupid and

driving from your house i feel like

the little kid who realizes he is too

big to stretch out in the bath tub

anymore. my pockets are full of

those gummy worms i stole yester-

day and pockets in my head are

dirty with wanting your selfish self

in the passengers seat, telling me

when to take a left and using red

lights and your pretty eyes to the

full advantage.

things i dream about

-big sky, montana and the version of me that eats steak and rides horses
-green fields in ireland somewhere, where i lie by myself and spread my arms out
-writing frantic novels on my long lost typewriter in an apartment in france
-climbing tall things and crossing rivers with someones hand in mine and the sun is all gold and faded, like poloroids, and it is a sunday

clearly, i am in wantin' of some wanderin'

attention!

i am in love with a barista who called me pretty lady and took song requests. this is serious. i am going to frequent that place until he can't help but ask for my number. be mine, bearded boot wearing coffee making sir. please.

indian giver

i think i Indian Gave you my heart
with my infinite/innocent love and all
and i think you double crossed me
and have it still
and it makes you sad
but it would make you sadder to give it back.

''i just need to know that someone out there listens and understands and doesn't try to sleep with people even if they could have. i need to know that these people exist''

-the perks of being a wallflower

absence

direct my marbly irises to yours: all springtime and leaves about to
                                                                                              turn colour.
i see canyon roads and the houses of those neighborhoods we claimed as ours, that time you said,
'people live inside everyone of those' and i kissed your face twice for being
                                                                                              remarkably profound.
i painted our love to memory, each pastel stroke like a grain of sand on a beach my feet
                                                                                              long to retrace.
it is all there, orbiting through eyes that are what i know of
                                                                                              Untainted beauty,
lying sideways on sundays with slanted light and full hearts,

the absence of which is insurmountable.

hey!

i am starting to vaguely remember what feeling healthy is like. and it is good. i am convinced slurpees and this song are the cure to everything. antibiotics? psh. who needs them. also i discovered that my hair goes goddess status the less i touch it. this gives me immense joy.
those delusional dreams where i wake up regretting a decision i am not sure if i made in real life or not are becoming frequent.a tad worrisome? maybe.
mostly, i am ranting. because i haven't talked to anyone but my journal in four days. i best be cutting off here.
 au revoir for tonight, universe. you are beautiful.

p.s. sick gurl got flowers. awh.

my first IV? awh, strep throat. you shouldn't have.

i was so gone by the time they hooked me up, that i pretended the fluid was melted igloos and that the nurses accent was eskimo.