I could go off the deep end.

I need to stop writing songs.
I need to stop trying to channel my emotion or chemically triggered illness and just focus on something that's actually

there.

I know that there are plenty of ugly things and I know that there are plenty of ugly parts of me and

I know

I have a lot of amends to make.
For myself, not for any of you. For me.
To stop dwelling. To stop procrastinating and postponing everything else in my life.

And maybe then I can be a little less self-centered, which is always
a good start
to a good something.

make me

I thought that maybe the freeze-frames of you breathing, me breathing you and our breath hanging in the cold air, mingling like two school girls
would slip away,
like everything



and while we are quietly humming, we secretly are wishing
that the other would start dancing so that the night won't be wasted

but what we aren't aware of won't hurt us, will it?

'appropriate' is out the window

"Men and women are completely different. As a teenager it is very easy to miss this simple truth."



I have officially soul-searched my way out of gender.

I enjoy my womanly curves and soft-er features. I also enjoy my reproduction system and the fact that I may, if I so choose, procure a child within myself. I enjoy the ability to paint hormonal cycles, and of course to distinguish myself as a female.

But I do think, that with modern society, most 'female' and 'male' characteristics are defined by certain standards that are set by impetuous people who have strong-armed their ideals unto others.

Unfortunately, everyone is decidedly impressionable.
(I am not presenting myself as a lone crumb, with thoughts separate from the whole cookie-cake of the human race. I am as susceptible to faux-info as anyone.)

I just think that maybe, we're all part of the same race.
And maybe we shouldn't stereotype the capabilities of beings who are separate from us by only a select few reproductive and non-reproductive organs.

Individuality is more important to me than gender.

bits and the pieces

You make me the saddest
because you make me so very
happy:

You and your estranged taste
and your wacky loves and their hats
and long hair with braids

Big Mama Lips will kiss me everyday
and Aretha will keep on singing
while the gay man plays piano

You have seen the future
and it was like..
like the microwave
and microwaves aren't ever as bad as

mainstream
music

(shudder)

Water drips from the ceiling down your back
but it feels like a giant moth flapping his wings.

I have heard you sing and you can sing
with your soul in your voice and your
heart perching on your shoulder,
looking pretty enough to eat

Eating spaghetti, heat of the moment
when a noodle is slipping from your lip
and you look so incredibly

vunerable.

Four squares and you
were the best of all.

Winning makes you enemies.

But love
makes you enemies.
You use it to get respect?
Putting words into your mouth, a mouth with lips for cover,

but it's just a word, love

we are
really all just

words.

I wrote a song,

When you leave me
To go to sleep, I always feel your dreams matter more than me

And I know it's a silly thought
But you'll always be the fattest fish I caught

And on through the years,
If you still want me here,
If you haven't broken
what I've put my heart in

They say we'll grow old
Change our warm intentions to bitter cold

But if I've noticed anything
What they say doesn't mean a thing

'Cause so far, my dear,
I still want your arms
around me at times
when I feel like crying.

Oh, singing this to you, from me.
Oh, I love that you love me.

Maybe we'll grow up,
and the world will become a brimming cup,

And we'll drink ourselves dry,
but never give up, and neither will I.

And success isn't built
on the hunt and the kill.
No more weaks, no more strongs
Let the rights trump the wrongs.

All this buzz, the earth it spins,
and we all ask the questions but no one wins.

I find I need time,
to think of a reason, much less a rhyme.

And time over season,
the allergies, the sneezing.
The sick and the elderly,
wondering, "who will take care of me?"

Oh, singing this to you, from me.
Oh, love me, do you love me?

Oh, singing this to you from me.
Oh, I love that you love me.

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


My mother liked it when I played it for her :)

babycakes

Waking up early to sweater weather and the aroma of pumpkin pancakes,
my throat isn't sore from last night and
I feel very refreshed even with
four hours sleep.


These are days when I know,
I must've done something right.

commentary

I am as still as a rabbit who has been seen.

The exception is my heart,
leaping from the confines of my chest,
up and out into sky and birds
and my thoughts are left in my bed
while I am tugged along by my heart-strings..

If you are to spend a day alone,
what better way than to spend it in the clouds?

surprises

I took this picture by accident two days ago.
Isn't it wonderful how beautiful something accidental can be?

morning glories

I love
loving someone
on a day
like this one.

I take a picture in my head of,
you wearing blue, your dark features
contrast the light and
you look like you did in that picture
on your mother's wall
of a boy all wet from swimming and happy from living

I can say from the weight of things,
the way your hair has grown and
so have I,
the color of the clouds
that we stumble upon and
the knowing glances that elderly couple in the next booth gave us..

Today was a beautiful day.

I think her eyes will pass me, so
I keep watching.
But as soon as
that decision is made,
they stop
on
top
of me

and

I have an idea
of what
Lennon and Dylan and Chapman and
everyone in the sixties saw.

I saw
exactly
what was there
and I
ignored it.

the difference

I said 'best'
and then I realized.
I
lied.

You have never been
my 'best'
And you have never been your
'best'
You have been
and will keep on being
what you always were

a fair-
weather
friend.

raison d'être

Has it ever happened that
you were just too tired
to sleep?

Too tired as in so
MUCH to
think and do over
and re-think.

Piles of noodles replacing brain and
a heavy almost stinging in eyes
and ears are
hearing too
while you
lay
like a real boy
and wish you were wooden
so your arms
would stop moving
and eyelids would
stay
shut.

At first an empty vastness of dark
and
then a line emerges there,
another and more with different shades
and dimensions.

Seeing what you don't
when your eyes
are shut.

Memories like memories
that you want to forget
you want to
forget because
they make you feel..
feel
feel
and keep feeling
something
that's
just
not
there.

And memories like
you
and your
sideways and
backward
view of
the world and people and me and

you need
something else in your life
besides the idea
that you
are the best thing
since Elvis.

Elvis was on his worst days
as you are on your best.

I
am not
spiteful.

I am tired.
And I want you to know that
you meant,
mean
a lot to me.

But I know where you are
and I'm just
not there
anymore.

stopping

Ideas ideas
and running
here, there
now
now
before it's
too
late!

And I get delayed
by people traffic,
car traffic
mind traffic

Buzzing by
bursting through
doors
car doors
front doors
back doors
out
bedroom doors
and in
to
meet
your
maker.
Who just so happens
to have an appointment
at two o'clock,
so
we have to
make this
speedy.

This is the saddest thing.

"Omg, Bachelor drama?! As a side note, Japan is falling apart."

Thank you, Sarah, for sharing this.

POV gun

You kept trying
to make me
'see'
but I assure you, I
have 20/20 vision
without your specs
and I
can
see
exactly what you can.

So you tried to make me
'under
stand'

Always standing a tad taller,
just a
bit,
barely noticeable
but an eye-strain
away.

But I reached my arms
above
my head and
fooled you
into thinking
that I am as tall
as I wish I was.

Your point of
view is
a bullet
and mine
is
the
gun.

It's late and I should be sleeping but..

My eyes are falling
asleep for me,
and my brain has decided to buzz
and keep on
buzzing buzzing
bursting!
and then softly humming
back
to me.

I'm wandering and I wonder if
the wandering should
cease
so I can wonder a
little
longer.

There's no one here to
distract
any part
of me.

So, I am not
lonely, I am
alone.

There is a
difference, my friend and
you
can take that
to the
bank.

I cried.

This is by far the most wonderful and lovely and touching and deserved kiss on network television ever.

Isn't that beautiful?

Kinky Friedman, I salute you.

Maybe
just maybe I'm
a tad sensitive to things
that are
for lack of a better word,
Ca-
put.

Things of the past, the present
and the past
past.

I am, believe it or not
under the impression that
the past is past
and the future
is riding up your ass
and
maybe everything
is okay.
And really was all okay
and will be okay.

So okay. Alright.

But that doesn't explain why
all these things
nearly haunt me.

"Nostalgia is a symptom of illness in an individual or a society."

Maybe nostalgia is a thing to be avoided.

For all nostalgia gets you is a night alone under a red blanket with a head full of wishes and yearnings that,
let's sunny-side-up this thing,
are past.
And aren't coming back for seconds on the cheesecake.

There might be similar experiences,
but you have to admit to yourself that
you will never
have the same day you had
today and the day before
again.

So nostalgia has been glorified
under false pretenses.

Unless of course,
my definition of nostalgia
and yours
hit heads.

So
if you really wanna,
if you're really committed to
this idea of being happy then
forget regrets
and nostalgia
and the past.

We all move in our own way,
but we're all heading
dead straight
for the same place.

trips

It had been a week and
money hadn't been an issue for me,
but you'd gotten your
fair share
of shit from the world.

So I drove from Ohio to St. Louis,
tried to make it all the way
but a grand storm
seemed to
present itself
in the nick of time
for me to sit
and wait
in Denny's.
Nursing a slow cup of coffee
and a scathed sense of hope
still.

There was an old couple
that didn't look at each other
the entire
time
they ate.
They ate apart
while they were together.

And a lady and her son,
the son giving me looks now and again,
watching a teenage girl watch him.
And the lady stared at him across her plate,
thinking.
I can only assume she thought,
"What am I doing?"
Something
along the lines of
insanity/happiness.


I can
only
assume.

and I wish I'd written it.

I love you and I miss you all the time

all of those douglas firs,
trains, transformers, bluebirds.
anxious and my o.c.d.
cereal, atomic energy
and all the answers to everything;

tesla coils, decaffeinated tea
so much more put together than me.

the interstates and, the difference in weather;

I'm so glad you're there to put all my pieces back together.

-Jesse Kurvink

living IS

When there's an edge in the conversation,
when you now exactly what is bothering both parties,
and you know there's no resolving it,
no getting over it either..

What can you do but
have an angry,
passionate
and loving
throw down?

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

These days, saying your in love is almost
like saying, "I don't need love."
in the 20's.

Can't a girl be in love without the hate?

Saying I need to 'find' myself before
I can be with anyone else has
no effect.

I know myself pretty well and
though I am far from what I could be
and ions away from adulthood,
I can tell you that

I
know
that I make mistakes
and
one or either of us
could want out of this at some point..
but my point, good lady
is that I can do
what I want.

So, I can be in love.
Without wanting to stop living for myself.

I like a Pink song

am so unbelievably thankful.
I wish I deserved all of this,
but I don't and
I got to thinking..
what do I deserve then?

Is it true that everyone deserves happiness?
But..what if happiness isn't what they want?

Someone once told me that
life was not about being happy,
but being exactly who you are,
and feeling exactly how you feel.

But I ask you,
wouldn't you want to be the best version of
yourself and isn't
that version
happiness?

True enough that there would not be happiness
without
every other emotion,
but why can't happiness
take the cake?
Would that make a glutton out of
the happy ones?

All I know is that underneath emotion,
we must have a base.
Things are either going to be okay,
or they aren't.

sometimes, I travel to you

Doing something that
you know is wrong,
is..unsatisfying.

Not anything like drugs or sex or partying out until 4am,
those are all choices.
If you don't think something is wrong,
then,
it isn't.
Because in the long run?
Only your opinion matters.

But when you do something that you
know
will not accomplish anything,
Not even a selfish feeling of worth on the subject,
it is un-gratifying and hurtful.

Anger is not an excuse.
You never really have an excuse when
you do something
against you own
better
judgment and
gut feeling.

And I just made a mistake.
I am human but

I am also just a girl,
standing in front of a boy
asking him
to love her.

what are waiting rooms made for?

Not for me.
Not for hospitals.

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

Temporarily, you'll be living.
And some believe, temporarily,
you'll be dead.

Temporarily I'll be young and maybe sometime in there I'll be free,
and maybe sometime I'll go through a lot of pain.
I've got demons. But nothing I can't handle, you know?
Nothing that everyone else hasn't handled before me.
I'll have help, maybe.
I know you love me and he and she love me and they all love me,
but damn it if everything doesn't feel so incredibly
temporary
all the time.

I know and people have told me that I must enjoy things while they last.
I do. Believe you me, I very much love life and my own.

But after all of the temporary thrills and kills in this life,
it is so ridiculously fulfilling to have one that feels just the least bit constant.

And it's very difficult to not wish that everything felt as
successful
as that one relationship.
That everyone felt as committed to me
as I do
to them.

I realize how unrealistic it is.
And how this temporariness outlook can be applied positively.
And also that I have my own faults in this area.

It's just something to complain about really.