Archive for October 2009
Everybody down here is on some sort of a mission. It’s like thousands of ‘hurry up and wait’ situations. I wonder how many people step foot here on a daily basis. There’s so many different personalities; a stirfry dinner with the people as the veggies and the plaza as the melting pot.
A few minutes ago, some guy asked me for a cigarette through the window. I just gave him the peace sign and shook my head slowly. It’s amazing how understanding someone can be solely by hand gestures and body language. You don’t even hafta utter a word, yet have a whole coversation despite it.
I wanna move, except for some unknown reason, I enjoy writing in this particular spot. The green bench shoots my mind shockwave after shockwave of word recipes. Usually it’s never that way; I’ll find myself going too fast for my hand to connect with it all. A shower faucet on steroids. Can’t let it overflow cuz that just gets messy. But then again, there’s gotta be some sort of pressure source, cuz how the fuck else are you supposed to get clean? Haha, good shit.
I wanna get lost in all those endless puddles scattered across Riverside Street. Just plant my two feet, click em’ together, then sink. Dorothy, minus Kansas and Toto. Get gone in a fantasy land, cuz reality’s just too fucking boring sometimes, yu know?
Paper casualties, bent furs on my straight jacket,
Dipping the lady you savor this moment,
Eye contact is young, you have em’ you own em’.
Laugh at what’s faltered cuz it’s so fucking worth it,
Lincoln’s crossed at the knees, buckled by humor,
Cripple my emotions, big man with power,
Extinguish my foot fires; a sudden leap to satisfaction.
Stretched syllables prove overrated, simple is sweet,
Take me deeper, I long to go further,
Along for the obstacles, happiness be my bride.
Husband I suppose.
Confusion opens doors that aren’t even there yet,
Cautioning frequent stops, I’m stressing over nothing.
Pavement under pressure, concrete pays the ultimate price,
Leave behind a winding trail of kerosene snowflakes,
Gripping this pattern from the outside-in.
I need to relax, need to expand my casual grin,
Just disappear from the world and take a bath in loose skin.
Ice skating today with Bradley and Keeko! Shit man, I haven’t been ice skating in fuckin’ forever. Haha. As Brad easily does toe stands and 360′s, me and Keeko’ll be kicked out by the rink officials for excessive displays of failure. Haha!
Me – (high, whiny voice) “But I just wanted to skate!”
Keeko – (in the background) “Yea, yea!”
Rink Official – (calm, but dead serious) “Get the fuck off my ice, miss.”
My feet feel like tiny toddlers are living in the nails of my toes….they just keep shakin’ their rattles, and with every one of those shakes, my feet will twitch in response….I love it….it’s like when the doctor whacks you in the knee with that triangle shaped thing, and you sit there and giggle silently to yerself cuz hey!, you suddenly have no control over yer leg anymore….ahahaha!….awesome awesomeness….
My legs don’t feel quite as tingly as my feet, but they’re sure as hell tryin’….seriously, like a huge tingly sensation knots in one place inside my calf and it feels like its gonna go allllll the way up, but then it just stops….it’s craaaaazy….
My fingers like co-ordinate with my ears somehow….because I’ll sit here and find myself typing along with the drum parts of songs in my headphones….its hard to keep up with some….for example, I have “Live Forever” by the Oasis playing right now, and I’m ‘typing’ to the cymbal in the foreground of the song….every letter = one strike of the cymbal….it’s actually really hard….
My skin feels like there are millions and millions of ants doing push ups simultaneously underneath it….an army of them….just all lined up directly under my skin….with different ‘pushup-timings’ so it gives me an ocean wave pattern of feeling in my upper arms….omg, “Pattern Of Feeling”….awesome band name….
My brain….o man my brain….haha….so far up in the clouds right now, it’s incredible….shit, I’m LIVIN’ in the clouds right now….reality is not for me….people say that I should come down, that the clouds are not a place to be….I smile at them….maybe one day, I say maybe one day I will come down….but I never will….reality is not for me….I shall stay up here….the view is quite breathtaking….
Floor patterns connect with the ceiling in coinciding magnetisms. I try keeping my focus, my mind wrapping itself around this paraphernalia of calligraphy I hesitantly call writing. Do I tend to stutter when I talk? I must. Because no one in this general vicinity can smooth out my vocabulary quite like they should. It’s like patiently sitting on the stove top with a mouthful of cold water, turning the front burner on high, and waiting for that water to boil. Fuck.
I smell feelings….and I feel color….slingshots of ammonia launch airborne crashing violently into flaming cupcakes….I think god’s in the fan blade and can’t get out….somebody oughta help him….nearing blue escalades as they tiptoe down steep stagments in time, I’m left to wonder; who dimmed the lights and where are all the goddamn blankets?
I’m just telling you how it is….but it’s weird cuz I know yer not experiencing this experience from my perspective….it’s that feeling you get when you feel yer gonna feel a feeling you’ve never felt before….but yet I can’t explain it….I can’t explain ’my perspective’….one of the unexplainables in life….like some of the shit people find funny….they don’t know how or why it’s funny, but it just is….
There’s a light show going down in my head right now….little neon aliens are up there, I fucking know it….camping out behind my left pupil, they see what I see….sucks for them though cuz I used to see my surroundings in pixels….but that was like an hour ago….now I just see colorless bubbles….like portions of achromatic clocks stuck in these tiny soap bubbles outlining my brain….or what’s left of it anyways….haha….
I was lying on my side earlier and for some strange reason my eyes started burning, so in turn they began to water….there was a tear that got stuck on the bridge of my nose….it was so fascinating to me cuz whenever I looked down at it, i could see the reflection of my eyes staring back at me within it….((I can only imagine what the onlooker looking in must have been thinking….cuz of course in order to look at yer nose, you gotta go cross-eyed….so there I was on the couch, cross-eyed giggling to myself….hahaha!))….but then it eventually rolled away….
Shadows are orgasmic at this stage….orgasmic shadows….jesus, I’m fried….however, I must admit….this trip just keeps getting better and better….virtual reality without the expensive hardware….
Inspiration is a whore, a classy one at that….she’ll give you what you want, but’ll take nothing less than two Jacksons and a fresh bottle of Malibu for payment….I met her on a cold metal park bench three years back….she was preceding to cut a soggy piece of Big Red in half with the handle edge of a butter knife….”Why so complex?” I asked her, puzzled and perplexed from all her unnecassary struggling….she ceased her cutting and looked through me with a pair of black and droopy eyes I had never seen before….”Fuck simplicity,” she whispered, as she quickly stuffed her belongings into a small brown sack and took off northbound for the subway….I never saw her again….
Penetrating passion through poised paralysis, I weave my ways….the darkened barrels of chocolate horses crusade their ‘neighs’….I love rhyming even though that one was quite pathetic….fingertipping the vowels and fist pumping the consonants….sex with words….but not vice versa….
But now they’re in my head and it’s bugging me….the fuck did they get in there anyways, and when are they gonna leave?….hopefully the table was set….and the forks weren’t sporks….nasty sporks, I fucking hate those things….
Offset syringes breed half-empty shelves of tapioca pudding….my wheelchair’s ascending the onramp now, decorated in pink glass and dipped in caramel….I have yet to second guess myself on these expeditions….I trek through mountains of loaded memories and caves of deep confusion….but I never misspell and I never stop….
Another wave is sneaking up on me….I can feel it….but I don’t know….I don’t know if I’m ready yet….but fuck it; I am….I always am….
Hop on the Sprague bus (#90) on a wet and rainy day in the middle of busy hour….the smell’s are crazydisgusting, and I’ll guarantee yu’ll never eat lunch right before boarding again….here’s my story for the day….enjoy….
You must be joking if you think I’m scootin’ my ass over for yers. Seriously??? The sight of you is bad enough, but come on dude, you R-E-E-K. And believe me, I’m tryin’ to spare feelings here. Jesus. If I were to throw some week-old mayonaisse in the microwave with no regards to a bowl or timer, I’d still have a better smelling creation than the one yer giving off right now.
And how dare you shoot me that “god-yer-a-bitch” look. Pshh, who knows, I may just agree with you. But that’s neither here nor there. Cuz yu see, I’m what you’d call a classy bitch. A classy bitch who has a nifty little power called ‘choice’. The power to choose, my friend. So sorry to rain on yer funky little stink parade, but sitting next to a human dumpster on a 45 minute bus ride isn’t really my idea of a ‘healthy choice’.
Good luck finding a seat tho; yu’ll definetly need it. Who knows, you may even get lucky 4 rows down with that nasty red-head. The one who constantly smells like dirty cat box and faded dryer sheets. Just please, whatever you do, use protection. Imagining any offspring sends cold pricks of shivers down my spine. God forbid.
Her eyes dance with passion, crosswords in the rain,
Shifting her body, it’s all just the same,
In out goes the water, it’s beginning to flood,
She tugs at her drawstring and pulls down her hood.
This feeling’s unforgiving, the pain she indures,
Secrets are just whispers, she’s wanting so much more,
Trapped in a timeframe, a watch all alone,
To love is to freefall, and freefall she won’t.
Sooo, me and Bruh and Sis just stopped at 7-11 and got M&M’s and fuckin’ Slurpees. The car is full of Slurpees. There’s seriously like 6 of them in the cupholders. Dude if we get pulled over, we’re so fucked. I can see it now.
Cop – (real suspicious) “Why the hell are there so many Slurpees in here?”
Me – (Roll down my window from the backseat, eyes red as shit, and yell in a fast and loud tone) “I needa refill without refillin’!”
Cop – “Ma’am get out of the car.”
Me – (soft and guilty) “K.”