letha(l)rgic

Imagine an eye unruled by man-made laws of perspective, an eye unprejudiced by compositional logic, and eye which does not respond to the name of everything but which must know each object encountered in life through an adventure of perception. How many colors are there in a field of grass to the crawling baby unaware of 'Green'? How many rainbows can light create for the untutored eye? How aware of variations in heat waves can that eye be? Imagine a world alive with incomprehensible objects and shimmering with an endless variety of movement and innumerable gradations of color. Imagine a world before the 'beginning was the word.'

-sb

depricat(er)ing

i really don't know what it means to work anymore. to DO work, that is. the beginning of the year was so crazy hectic and stressful, but only because i had a ton of places i needed to be. not because of any amount of work i had to do. and now it's finals. and i have to write a paper. and i don't remember how. and it's a little freaky. i have absolutely no idea what to do. even thinking about it makes me nervous and anxious because i feel i don't have anything of value to say, and i'll end up bullshitting everything because that's all this year has been. i've smoked way too much pot and have created absolutely nothing of value this semester. i haven't been motivated to throw myself into my work like i expected i would, because now i'm finally doing exactly what i've been wanting to do and i'm letting it completely pass me by. which is depressing. because i absolutely cannot seem to get myself out of this lazy mentality. i have zero self control. and zero self discipline. that combination is. a. disaster.

thanksgiving was nice.

this is all i have to say...

FUCK YEAH AMERICA

happy november

halloween was great. i was a lightnin bug.

more importantly.
RIP studs terkel.
RIP harriet prentiss.
RIP barack's grandma.
RIP syd's grandpa.
RIP humanity?

what is going on.

"update this shit"

ok. ok fine.

happenings:
-i'm getting into vegetables and creative, HEALTHY meals. i'm really going to try and keep it up. carbs will be playing a minimal role in my life. (just kidding maybe)
-i'm writing my screenplay about that one (plural) thing that happened that one time. it's not as easy as i thought it would be. whoops.
-making crazies with div II shit. trying to get the best of the rest on my committee.
we'll see what happens. good thing it's ALL due on friday. good thing my life is due on friday. which brings me too...
-THEE hampshire halloween. i want to be an artichoke. i'm going to be an artichoke (on drugs).
-DJANGO (reinhardt) THE KITTEN.


django facts:
-he is going to be a panther.
-he will beat up your cat.
-he is regal.
-i am his mother.
-we are deeply in love.
-he is completely bonkers insane.
-i think that is why we are deeply in love.
-he likes to sit like a "little man":

-we are now a full family:

-i mean, we're in love:


-he is currently purring on my lap.



i am content.

the woods the woods

i don't really know what i'm supposed to write in this anymore.

i'm so busy. as a bee, they say. but i'm making more than honey. nothing quite as SWEET though. except for the moneys.

loopy loopy been running since 6:30 this morning. i guess i'd like to keep it that way. but, maybe not.

the walk to the farm at sunrise is so beautiful sometimes i think i can reach out and grab the sun and shake it and say "YOU'RE NOT REAL BECAUSE YOU'RE TOO BEAUTIFUL!". but i don't. because i would burn my hands. so i just accept it, instead.

and the children's center is therapeutic. they win the cute contests.

the barnyard animals and the pre-schoolers are keeping me sane.

birth daze

i turned 20 yesterday.
and had a panic attack.
at the same time.


happy birthday dad.

inner workings

bad decisions are still decisions. so at least i made one! haha.

i'm thinking my next tattoo will be a maple leaf. because it represents hooome and rooots and bridging my two resident locations. yeah?

it's raining. thanks to hanna and gustav. that's kind of cool, that we're affected by it, right? helloooo mother nature. you are present today.

i'm going to stage manage a show with masks.


maybe i'll borrow one to wear.

oh good morning, sun!

so here i am. at college. it's a heavy life. a utopian society at times. dysfunctional. but fun! always the fun. modlife is wonderful. i love having a whole place, instead of just a room. but still a room.

"the one spirit's plastic stress
which sweeps through the dull,
dense world"

is stamped onto the front of the shelf on my desk. i decided to keep it. just in case i wanted to remember how depressed hampshire students get.

my ankles hurt. boots kill. but live.

i'm working at the farm now, eternal cow odor upon my existence. i don't mind, i hope i don't get immune to it though so i'm not aware it's there. anyway. i'm a cow milkin, calf, pig and turkey feedin girl. livin the life. it was enjoyable being up with the sun.

weird ups and downs. trying to keep last year out of my head as much as possible. adapting is weird, but so natural right? i guess everyone does it. we are not unique. but only when together. apart, we are snowflakessssss.

anticipate her, anticipator

i'm making a mix for my czech cousin. going through itunes. listening to old songs. being 15 being 16 being 17. clever graphic tees. not getting it yet, but getting there. feeling trappppped feeling awwwwwwkward feeling hormonal! sufjan stevens obsessed. postal service influenced. i had the t-shirt first.

but then i realize that i leave evanston to start my 2nd year of college the day after tomorrow.

!







times they achange.

sir realist

so i go back to the hampshire college in t-minus 3 daze. it's weird. i assumed i was going to be in evanston forever. i've been here since the beginning of may, with one lovely weekend in michigan and music festivals as vacation. this summer was such a staple to my emotional diet. it was definitely the most interesting summer yet, the most stressful the most busy possibly the most fun. and just completely over the top ridiculous. the zt b&b, is what we called it. due to the amount of humans coming in and out and in and out and in and out over the past 3.5 months. i've met more people than i thought i would, more has happened than i ever thought, ever bargained for. which is both good and bad. because it helped me mature yet again, even though i thought it couldn't go any further. but OH IT WENT FURTHER. i guess the lesson i've learned is that it always will. and i can't get invested in something that won't come back. as much as closure is needed, for me. in countless situations in just the past year, ive had to settle with telling myself "he's just crazy and crazy people can't explain themselves".

it's getting annoying. but that's been the only way i can move on without reasonable explanations given.

good thing i'm off to hampshire where everyone is so normal. what a relief that will be! wait. nope. just kidding.



this is what came up in google images under "crazy boy".

lack of somnia

moon is very bright tonight
think it might be full
maybe i won't sleep

inspired through my window
the sky is never ending
fish still swim upstream

therapy

i don't know what to do when it comes to other people's problems. anymore. i used to be all into giving advice and being all knowing about everything, which is totally still fun, but this summer has been such a distraction from caring about other people. i guess i've only been distracted by myself and my need to figure things out i have no idea about yet. so it's confusing. because how am i supposed put myself in the middle of someones plural when i can't put myself in the middle of me? and not come out a bad guy, assuming to take sides and etc. when really, i just go with whoever whenever wherever and don't think about any implications. oops.

that dream last night has kept me in a state very unattached to the real world. i keep thinking the joker ACTUALLY did try to kill me but i escaped through the window and ran through the streets calling people for help (including a someone that didn't really react, my un-home parents, the un-answering police) and trying to find my way home or just somewhere and ended up by train tracks with people i didn't know that were happy and helpful and comforting. and then i ended up in the same room with mr. joker while i was supposed to be hiding from him in a resort, i kept putting my book and magazines in front of my face so he wouldn't see me and well, try to kill me. that same someone was sitting and talking with him at the other end of the room. and i thought "ohhh ok, so that's why they haven't been calling. that would just be awkward." and didn't really think twice about this person cavorting with the enemy, the psycho trying to kill me. which made me kinda pissed when i woke up. woke up, at which point i opened my eyes to my room and my closet and my very safe life with no one trying to kill me. which was a huge comfort.

all the dreams i've had lately in which i'm running from something or someone or some psycho is trying to kill me (which is very recurrent...), there is never any reason behind the running away and the killing. why would anyone want to kill me? i never think about the reason, i just run like a maniac, sometimes panicked thinking my life is about to end, sometimes completely calm and just in the zone of escape.

gahh.

now i have to go to family dinner

me and ellie are wizards of the kitchen.
baking happiness into chocolate!

how brilliant!
we'll be filthy rich. filthy and dirty.

the bubble

i miss it so fucking much
i can't wait to go back
it's the only place i want to be right now

kids in their cars, cigarette smoking

he reminds me of my father if my father was a lunatic.
but taller and much wiser...
i held your hand on the 4th of june
you're lovely as the moon but darling you know i just can't love you.
there was a song you taught me and it sounded like the blues
if the blues was full of screaming and it had no other meaning

we spent a week on your lover's lawn
you said you never loved him
but back then you couldn't see him being gone
and you didn't think you'd live this long

but if there's something that i know it's that you did it for yourself if you included me and jim and tom and someone else
if i could hold you know like i did when you were leaking
and the blood was just a trickle in this flood of greater meaning
then i would tell you what i did back when you were here

and right here is where i'm staying and by god you know my love is going nowhere.



i had a dream this morning that reminded me of this movie for some reason. i'm pretty sure it was in black and white. i had just married a very classically handsome man. our bed was covered with wrapping paper from all of our wedding presents which we proceeded to throw to the side, in order to canoodle. hubby then goes "i hear something", and runs into the other room. i am not very happy that he did this. AT WHICH POINT, i hear a gunshot from the other room. i freak out and jump into the pile of wrapping paper between the wall and the bed, in order to hide, obviously. i cover myself completely and think i'll never be found, but 30 seconds later these two dudes who shot my beloved husband come into the room and find me. the end.

hmmm.

this is love, so will i survive?

it's really just a matter of confusion.
a familiar state, attributed to misunderstanding, misjudgement, miscommunication, and just general unfairness.
when the question marks dot themselves, there isn't really much we can do. no control, no avoidance, can't we all just talk to eachother??

this is how i feel:

searching through a messy room for a communication device.


lollapalooza was great. not as great as expected, but still real great. no more hampsters in the basement. no more love in my heart. just kidding. that's all i EVER have. and well, if everything went my way, you would have been there dancing next to me instead of the countless creeps trying to cop a feel. feels. plural. too bad things haven't gone my way since the womb.

on a more exciting note, DJ MOMJEANS. aka danny masterson. yes, you heard right. this beautiful boy:

is the best fucking dj in the world.

well. no. he's not. at all. BUT LOOK AT HIM. it was probably one of the most fun shows at lolla. missed rage against the machine and wilco for him. OOPS. anything for hyde. i've always had a gigantic crush on him, so it's very ok. AND his brother was there, francis from malcolm in the middle. i saw him groove. :)


haha

all our dreams come true

so today, the woman i nanny for told me never to have kids. haha oops!

new favorite toy= the rapman.



(note the turntable.)

the hampsters are trickling in, one by one, day by day, fun by fun, drug by drug.

and ellie is back on the homestead. and and and. really frightened for lolla this weekend because APPARENTLY it's about to be 99 degreez. so. um. yep. woo.

will you, won't you, will you, won't you, will you join the dance?

so i could talk about pitchfork and it's glory, i could talk about the incident on the train which sent me home unable to understand the brutality of urban humanity thus in tears, or i could talk about how interesting it is that all of the people i find close connections with end up being redheads.

let's go with the latter. the other two another time. i feel like blogs are for whatever's IN your head and ON your mind at the time. :)

i mean, i wouldn't say i'm automatically attracted to red heads, i've just recently realized that they tend to be some of my favorite people i have the weirdest deepest coolest connections with. interesting, right? right.

backyard family barbeques these days really are some of the best places to have fun, because you always get to unexpectedly hang out with those people or that person you played with as a wee one, and now are awkwardly growing up next to. and then you smoke pot or something together and so many things change!

bababa
dear evanston summer,

you are turning out to be pretty beautiful and interesting and complicated and confusing and i think just pretty neat. so keep it up, i could do without those few annoyances and confusions, but such is life. so. ok. you're ok. you're swell.

that'll do pig, that'll do.

forever,
emma.

i take my coffee, bittersweet.

i can't really figure out what that was.
what a beautiful surprise though. pretty sure i needed those kinds of faces. and a very occupied basement.

i've realized just being nice and sweet and cool about it and everything, creates a very pleasant experience. so. ok. i guess i'll just stay a sweet pea from now on.



the last month and a half of evanston summer will be very interesting, i think real good. real. good. pitchforkkkk this weekend. it's about time i got my dose of hipsters and great music all the time. and cheap water.

strangely, being home here has made me more of a hipster than i ever was. before coming home, at hampshire hipster haven, i would never consider myself a hipster (just friends with them, of course), but being home has just bored me out to such a level that i need to dress cool to entertain myself. i find it so much fun. and i guess i care more about my appearance when home because evanston cares, and camp hamp does not whatsoever. which is lame. which i always knew but never realized. i was so immune to it.

hampshire really just gave me new needed eyeballs.

oh also. so keeping my marijuana in my tissue box was not the greatest idea of all time. or it was. because whenever i blow my nose now, i feel like i'm getting high.

buddy-o, yiddam, diddam dee

my henna is fading faster than my dog's eyesight. and now i just look diseased. but it's alright. "but let the mind beware, that though the flesh be bugged, the circumstances of existence are pretty glorious." thanks jack. i am starting to feel less and less ailed with the rest of my recent body malfunctions. hurrah.

went garage sailing yesterday and picked up some gems. another, yes another, typewriter for $15. working and beautiful and blue(ish), olympia. we'll see what magic can't be worked.



among others, also picked up "poetry for your table" and some bizarrely sweet eskimo coasters. mod 19 get ready for weird beauty.





chloe left for camp today. :(
lonesome be had. i liked having a housemate. but OH she'll be back.

adlai, adlai, what did you say?

"you're the best."
-addie, now 5

so. so so so.
in my spare time, i'm working for my dad in a cubicle. it's $10/hr, so that helps ease the pain a little, as much as i want to make database entry my career choice. it's ok though, because i get to hang out with adlai stevenson III. who's grandfather convinced honest abe to run for the presidency. thus, through connections, i convinced abraham lincoln to become president. neat!

we have this girl staying with us right now from niger. it's very interesting. she's here on a program that takes 3 girls from the top 10% of the country's brightest, and brings them too good ole america and teaches them how to empower themselves. how bitchin, right? she's the sweetest thing. she's an orphan. and completely shell shocked.

i mean, i guess i feel like i just had to update this. i've started a short story. due to the inspiration of the cubicle. EVERYTHING IS JUST SO GRAY. grey? (i can never decide.)

last night, i went a little wildlife crazy. geckos and snakes, really are underrated. i held the big one. all. night. i became addicted. i miss him. it was so therapeutic, to have a living breathing animal made entirely of muscle and beautiful soft scales wrap it's entirety around my arm, neck, etc. if i didn't have to feed it LIVE BABY MICE, i would have like 12 snakes. and just walk around with them.



(he's much oh much prettier)

thoughts

-these days are no longer romantic. two thousand eight. THOUSAND.

-fate is okay? getting used to the idea.

-i held a snake tonight, i felt beauty and the lightness of being. no second unbearable. i beat 3 boys in mario kart, played what i haven't played since that sillyness, first first first. the lightness of being. haha.
-they are ideas because i am thinking them, about.

-i did not dry my face.

-listening to DEATH CAB FOR CUTIE. feeling that feeeeeling, there's only one, everyone knows. and everybody knows it. (so i'm proposing a swift orderly change, etc.)

-the time for sleep is now. in the morning i will only think things.

escapade etcetera

emma's idea of a perfect wonderful beautiful perfect perfect perfect weekend:

-wake up in a pit of pillows, alongside much adored peers
-make a delicious breakfast of hashbrowns, eggs, toast, fruit, etc.
-eat breakfast alongside much adored peers
-sit for a little
-smoke a pre-rolled j
-hike alongside the ever lovely lake michigan to some dunes
-sit on said some dunes, get some tannies
-lie on the beach
-disregard underwear and shorts and swim around in the ever lovely lake michigan
-lie on the beach
-get approached and invited to a swingin party by hot sexy teens, pretend to flirt but really know they're incredibly lame
-lie on the beach
-hike back to books and fruit and more inebriation
-sit for a little
-eat for a little
-drink attempted daquiries for a little
-walk along the ever lovely lake michigan alongside much adored peers, looking for the swingin bonfire, find awkward families only and decide to sit a little and smoke a little and look only upwards into the breathtaking planets and things
-crawl back to books and fruit and more inebriation
-collapse in a pit of pillows, alongside much adored peers

oop. looks like i had a perfect wonderful beautiful perfect perfect perfect weekend! exactly what i needed. :)


on another note, i have a sinus infection. how can so much snot come out of one person's nose???

on another note, someone hardcore graffiti'd my dad's work door with pink and purple CHALK. hahaha not that funny

on another note, i miss ellie. a lot. my spouse my mouse.

on another note, i have a mosquito bite on my NECK. fucking vampire bugs.

on another note, i still really wish i could talk to who you used to be. missing that comfort...

dumbstruck with the sweetness of being

i'm materialistic in that way. nostalgically.

oh i am so happy in my room now.
i am thinking i might not have to have that doctor's appointment after all.
because my job is back and the little one puts some light in my life
and now i can sit under nostalgia for the rest of my home daze and feel how i've always wanted to feel in a place i call my rooooom. my womb.
taking down that loft bed was one of the best decisions i've ever made. now i can ACTUALLY literally roll out of bed. instead of falling 8 feet to my death.
yes, i could sit here forever. staring at my walls, thinking of everything and anything and nothing at all. content. i have my own corner. :)


off to michigan. to woods to sun to sand to collaboration to inebriation to HAMPSHIRE.

i'm a chicagoan till chicago ends

favorite addie quotes:
"i'm small but i can do big things."
"words don't exist! words don't exist!"
"I WANT SUN! I WANT SUN! I WANT SUN! IIIII WAAAANT SUUUUNNNNN!!!!"
"you're only talking about the sand! what about the water?!"

i had a beautiful night on top of the city last night. took jenna on a date to that really bourgeois restaurant at the top of north point tower (oprah's prior residence. word.), where we could see the ENTIRE city with the most beautiful skyline in the world. and we were at the ONE spot in the city with thee most perfect view of it all. and then randomly fire works started going off at navy pier, right behind us. it was perfect. too bad it wasn't an actual date. too bad all the dates i have are with girls... i go on the best dates with girls. (because girls are better) the only flowers i've ever gotten have been from girls when i've gone on dates with them. discounting my parents at graduations and junk... but anyway, boys shouldn't even be allowed to go on dates. it should just be a girl thing. we're way better at it. we don't have to try as hard, we're naturally nuturing.



amiright?


i also had a dream last night where i found out both my parents smoke tons of pot. and my dad was partial to blunts.
how complete would my life be?

yes.

relief is a beautiful feeling.



("relief", according to google images. i mean, i guess that's an accurate portrayal of how i feel...?)



i had a dream last night where i wanted to photograph my footprint that i left on some table. i thought it would make a really beautiful image. and i couldn't decide if i wanted to use my digital camera or my pentax. decisions decisions.

and yesterday i had a nap dream where my dad was carrying around this nest of little artificial eggs, and he couldn't decide where to put it. he wanted to put it in the ground but i wouldn't let him because i said the cats would get it. mmmm symbolism. yum.

i should be in bed but i'm here instead

i am starting to look at your words differently. maybe because i am only looking and not reading. maybe because there is finally a distance, that i've just discovered. i am finally viewing myself a widow, as you are gone. because this is now. and that was then. and you are finally in the books, finally made it to history, so that you are intangible. i always knew you were a dream, just a good one. just.

heartache is heavier than the atmosphere. yes, STILL.

it's going to be a long time before someone like you comes along again.


and you're not reading this, i know. because you don't read me. and if so... well congratulations drifter, you found me out, blue handed. it doesn't matter anyway because we don't exist.

"i didn't know what would have happened though, maybe towers would fall, bridges break
well all that mystery is gone now...it'll seem to come back when we are at hampshire though" remember?

i was always just your idea. just.

magical babes

it's crazy incredible how every single stupid and terrible issue in your life seems to vanish when you're holding a newborn baby. even the terrible day/life altering ones that make you think the world is out to get you and there's nothing you can do about it and it's all you can think about. but then someone hands you a 3 day old BABY. and what else can you think but everything is perfect? gets me every time.

freaks and geeks

that is one of the best shows ever created
word
james franco is my ideal man
what episodes
um why is he so fucking hot?
I HAVE NO IDEA
when he smiles during the intro, i freak out
but it's out of control
hahahahah same!
that little grin
gets me every time
if i ever see him IRL, i'll just void my bowels and die
hahahah
i might not be held responsible for my actions
crimes of passion would ensue
oh you know it
steven left and i watched another episode and me and hannah just died every time he was on screen
I love when guys leave so I can swoon in peace
hahaha yeah
it's a good feeling
3:55 AM
but also a sad feeling because getting all hot and bothered over an image on screen is scary
yess true
because you knwo it's never going to happen
and the devastatingly handsome are never good news
oh i know
they reel you in with their cheekbones and then treat you like garbage
btu it doesn't even matter cuz they're so hot1
!
4:00 AM
!
you got it
it is basically worth it because their eyes turn your joints to jelly
yeah and who doesn't love some good jelly joints
it's like they can stab me in the face and then just smile and i dont care anymore
hahahahhaha
so true
i would give my face to get a smile from james franco
if i had a smile from him, just for me, I would stab myself in the face
hahaha
of course after making out with him
i think my mouth would go all slack and my eyes would roll back in my head before i could make out with him. my favorite episode of freaks and geeks is the one where he gets all punk as fuck
4:05 AM
ooh i havent seen that one!
i've only seen a few
man if we had guys like that in my freaking highschool, i never would have hated it so much
man, if we had guys like that at hampshire!
our lives would get 10X worse
only because our faces would be disfigured
but other than that
it would be pretty great
in the episode, he and kim fight, but at the end, he goes to her house and they have the cutest make up ever
EW I FUCKING HATE KIM
she's the ugliest girl ever born
i grew to love her
she's such a witch
she is cool! but not as cool as millie

uughfghheflkhjgyg

writer's block. agaaain. yay yay yay.

where does it even come from?!

peach ice cream is incredibly underrated. think of peaches. now think of ice cream. uhh BAM.

noggin

so i'm babysitting a 4-year-old full time for my summer job. i didn't realize the toll it would take on my vocabulary and general way of thinking. it's hard going from assuring her that the fly in the kitchen CANNOT hurt her and making sure she doesn't fall off the monkey bars, to smoking a j on my porch and talking about existence and things. that's what evanston summers are i suppose.
i know every show on noggin. and that stupid annoying moose and his creepy owl friend zee. yes, we understand you're trying to teach the little ones how to count and tell obvious differences between things, but "shorter taller" is NOT a fun game, let alone a game at all.
i babysat for 11 hours today. usually after about 4 or 5 hours i start to get that constant internal monologue saying how i really can't take this anymore. it's just so exhausting. but for some reason, 11 hours was pretty easy. maybe because she makes a really darn cute superhero.



i had no idea there was a supergirl...

what are rowdy adolescents doing in schoolbuses revving down chicago avenue at 3 A.M.??

lately, when i'm a little out of it and driving home at the early morning hours, i've been witnessing the strangest series of events. expectedly bleak, that is the hour when the most bizarre instances occur that only few can catch (hello), and when midwest wildlife is at it's peak.



i'm pissed as hell that they killed that cougar, tracked from SOUTH DAKOTA. why the fuck did they put illinois police in charge of that. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE. THEY'RE RARE. apparently, it is on display at the field museum. i want to go pay it homage. lay down some flowers.

To: Bill

Disconnected Nude


He frames her perfectly. Making sure she’s
nude,
demure,
but never trapped.
With skin melting
into the border,
and a beam of light
for an arm,
she gazes towards the bottom,
a direction.

Beyond these borders
are similar existences,
making her struggle barely comparable.
Her body is whole here
because she is in control of the
placement of her pieces.

Inside,
her exposure isn’t shocking, merely a separation
of body parts, disconnected, but still creating
a larger figure.
She appears to be holding her head, subject to Picasso
and a chilling grace.
Using dark and light to push her apart,
corner to corner.

She is thinking things we will never hear
thoughts held by a never-ending hand,
grappling with lips, half erased by her own shadow
coming to grips with a face, existing in only two dimensions.
Breast to elbow to wrist to hairline, invisible,
her connections flow with the ease of light
creating a sense of extreme contrast,
maybe between her expression, position, thought.
Singular.

breakdown town

this is breakdown city
where i've come home
to the breakdowns
and the downtowns
and the sultry 24-hour 7-11s.
and the kids and their basements
are all we have.
with pipes on the ceiling
and cat litter strewn about the
urine stained carpet.
stuck in this illusion muck
oblivious that everything means nothing,
let alone here
letting it alone
saturated in
small town glory,
brainwashed and gory.
pumping organic,
gasoline running just beneath your feet,
remember that.

gonna get my space face on

the messiah has come, in the form of mr. dan deacon.

Nantes

Well it's been a long time, long time now
Since I've seen you smile
And I'll gamble away my fright
And I'll gamble away my time
And in a year, a year or so
This will slip into the sea
Well it's been a long time, long time now
Since I've seen you smile

that one time without the world

smile.
and then leave me with those grim accusations
you were always accustomed to.
grin.
and it's all over.
we will start at the beginning,
that one at the edge of the world.
that one that twists our brain hairs
and skin tears.
and then we will end right here,
right in my palms,
and replace our hearts for something breathing,
something better, something broken.
(which you always found just that much more poetic)
i still find it so fascinating,
how our time and space began, continued, and
ended.
here.
and how i am merely your widow.
still.
that one night i keep replaying,
forest lengths behind the books,
will never cease to become more and more of a dream.
soon, i won't consider it reality.
i won't consider you, with descriptions confidential.
remember that time we...
thought we didn't exist?
remember that place where...
it was never real?
and that's why it worked, because we were stuck in
an endless daydream. no escape in sight.
except for that time you...
became real. much too much too real.
you never gave me my valve back,
which i guess is why i'm still wheezing.
breathing. heavy.
i'd like to say that was my fault,
but if you hadn't refused my eyes that ONE time,
if you had only given in that ONE time,
if you had taken the universe to notice
that at one point we shared atoms,
maybe we'd still be talking.

For Class

Eleanor

Silent and perfect, we are hair in water.
Floating just below the surface,
Just below existence,
Everything is perfectly parted.
Stranded in familiar follicles.
Mirroring water, your face forms lines of beauty,
Paralleled lips and eyes and brows.
There is something eerie about your presence,
Riveting, something worthy of chills.
Without your eyes, you pull us into your water.
Without “the windows to your soul”, we see you in your existence.
Natural and complete, all we need is essence.
Contemplative and content, all we are is skin.
Where are we supposed to look when you close your eyes?
We see you as everything.
We see everything in you, as whole.
We see it all together, and that makes you perfect.
You are exposed and you don’t mind
Because it gives you depth.
If I look at you long enough,
You become stronger in your image.
Your hair blacker, skin paler, face calmer,
Evoking echoes and a love I’ve never seen.
I can’t tell if you’re standing,
But it’s all the same anyway,
So we might as well all just float.




Framed and Faceless Flag

We drag flags like combs,
Across the dirty windowsills of our faces,
Covered in hair resembling stars and stripes.
We cannot see through the glass
Because of the cloth we’ve blinded ourselves with.
There are frills on our blouses
And buttons on our pea-coats,
But still we look demeaning.
Still we keep our faces dark and shielded.
We are protected by your symbol of freedom and justice,
But have never noticed that the bricks of our buildings melt together.
Tomorrow, it might change direction and your
Shades might as well be drawn.
So keep looking out, even though
All you don’t understand is me with intentions of finding you.
Be sure to stay separate from those ominous stripes,
Waving to your children.
Be sure to wash those stars out of our eyes,
That’s what eyelashes are for,
Catching dust, catching stars, catching dreams and lies that wave to our children.
The reds of your lips aren’t as romantic as they’d like.
The whites of your eyes aren’t as pure as they’d like.
The blues of your veins aren’t as patriotic as they’d like.
But if you remain blinded and disgruntled, they’ll let it slide this time.
You would never dream of cracking that window,
The panes are too perfectly still,
The pains are too perfectly bearable.
And you are merely watching us down below,
Us exalting in the flagless freedom, fictionless,
But you beg to differ.
So remain where you are, dappled in stripes,
Stifled in stars,
And I’ll make sure your eyelashes do their job.

how strange it is to be anything at all

i am rapid with emotion.
and now it's perfect, i think.
and now you're gone from mind
and different waves have set in,
new and sporadically happy.
and i am new and sporadically happy. :)

medusas

something dappled and grey
has become subdued, much more quiet now.
it has crept into a conscience
ridden of you.
it has crept and crept and crept
into your non-existence
and that state of mind you refuse
to let go of,
that state of mind i despise.
you sat there atop your throne,
with that silly expression,
like you knew it all,
like you pretended to be always comfortable.
i can't say what i know,
because it's all too distant now
and you are merely an illusion of past sorts.
tragically, you asked for something worse
and it came bursting towards you in flames.
medusa.
how you shape eachother so perfectly,
or so you think.
you'll only turn to stone when people see
you looking.
you'll only remain human if you watch yourself
in secret.
but isn't stone just that much more tragic?
i don't mind if your mirror breaks.
it's for the better, i suppose.
it's only for now, i suppose.
but that's all we ever have.
gracefully stumbling towards eachother,
blinded by one another's light,
it's perfect now.
because nothing is real.

in bed all day

i am somewhere between
the breathing silences
and the clouds.
same thing.
i am somewhere foggy,
somewhere in bed.
unable to rise, i guess.
unable to speak,
to tell you you're lying.
i'm drifting and that's all
and that's everything i don't want
and everything that is.
underneath my blankets,
i can see you clearly.
i can underestimate you as much as i want
and as little as the rest.
i've been sipping tea for hours now
and it's become rather desolate.
so pull me out of this puddle you call existence
and let me breath.

i'm in love.

the eyes are green. very green.

this is the impossibility of the existence of anything

what a horror it would have been if the world was real, because if the world was real, it would be immortal.

all is here

it gets me
this confusion.
it gets at me
bewilderment of wilder dreams
wanted in 19 different states.
where are you now, lovers and freedom?
you've taken my sanity at much too early
with your pages rusty,
you will learn to heal yourself,
feeding on fire.
you will look at a skyline
and tell yourself that you're the best.
i am learning to meditate because of you
to raise my mind into a median deemed mine.
you go splunking, tumblings towards tastelessness
let me know when you arrive.
you're beginning to look alike.
act
speak
please not feel.
once you feel the same, it's all over.
it's all heavy.
this game of hide and seek has gotten me pale,
although all that's shed on me is
an altered brilliance.
make it grey, i don't mind.
make it addicted and dumbfounded, i don't mind.
i can't decide if you're real.
because all i hear are notes,
all is here.
so kindly step away,
let me breathe in this bubble
before it's popped.

clean room= clean mind

points to make:

-hey if you go to yale, your campus is WAY over the top. and sorry if we messed it up. shenanigans had to be pulled ya big, nervous nerds.

-at sunrise the other day, somewhere in connecticut, three dumb adolescents jumped into the atlantic ocean for "the hell of it". one of which later attained frostbite and had to nurse her feet back to feeling. it hurt. alot. now i understand when jack talks about how cold the ocean is in titanic.

-the walkmen are a very nice, very cool, very drunk group of incredibly awesome, talented musicians. and their tshirts are very easy things to sell. they had two opening bands, one of which was so. good. they invited us to come to a show they were having that friday at a frat at upenn. we were gonna do it. then didn't. injured toes. "the subjects". check em.

-philly is cute. i'd like more of it.

-i'm sorry if i glared at you. the death-stare was not intentional, but i mean, you deserved it. so deal with it.

-it's difficult to smoke all your pot in one day.

gone healthy

i went to boston. :)

monreal fell through. and i had to had to had to get out get out get out. so i went to boston and hung out at tufts for a good few daze and found a nice spoonfull of inner peace. which is doing me quite well at the moment.

currently: listening to joanna newsom and devendra banhart
currently: into green tea
currently: into massachusetts winter woods
currently: meditating
currently: content. fin.

In due time we will see the far butte lit by a flare
I've seen your bravery, and I will follow you there
And row through the night time
Gone healthy
Gone healthy all of a sudden
In search of the midwife
Who could help me
Who could help me
Help me find my way back in
There are worries where I've been
Say, say, say in the lee of the bay; don't be bothered
Leave your troubles here where the tugboats shear the water from the water
Flanked by furrows, curling back, like a match held up to a newspaper
-jn.

tea, bagels and marijuana.

my room smells like it. i'm alright with that. "...an accurate reflection of your personality." thank you for that explanation, chloe. so there's that, and i'm starting to realize how i could so easily freak out right now. right. now. because the only good thing i've got going for me are the bagels my parents sent me. no more montreal. have to take an NS course again. and of course, THAT. and that and that and that. WHAT THE HELL.

shit. i need to not be in the country right now.

nineteen!

it's ok, the view from here
i guess it's independent now.
there is a constant icing on the cake,
when will the sugar stop falling?
my fingernails will be filled with this earth
this earth
this earth
this island in an ocean of stars.
tiny, we barely notice ourselves.
grab a shovel,
dig me.
grab my dirt,
mold it into this earth.
i'll even let you orbit.
it's ok from here.
we'll end up perfect, i can tell.
we'll end up around strangers, just like the beginning.
windows from lofts
laundry dirty
drenched in an automatic beat, encapable to the human ear.
you are beyond it all,
all the stars and voices in their heads,
and those circling little, yellow birds and those goddamn buzzards,
and that puddle narrowly missed, containing an entire little universe of lies.
wretched in our ways, we begin to yield the upmost something,
those branches at the top, deemed crazy
doomed maybe.
you're a regular scratch-and-sniff,
flaky and unexpected, pleasant and guilty, brilliant and tacky,
but never full of tact.
what will we see?
stale cities and immature countries constructed of teen angst.
puberty is a myth.
make us think we grow older,
it's more than physical you know.
it's more than reciting a prayer, you know.
19, stop accusing me. i'm not there yet.
i'm not that kind of ager,
you are deceiving and awkward.
find me spinning under your vinyl,
doped on dreams.

YEAH

hey look, there ARE good things in my life:

-getting into the sold-out philly walkmen concert for FREE! (running the merchandise table SWEET)
-beautiful plural feet of snow outside? yes.
-tai chi works wonders
-"i need to get out of here."
"right now?"
"no. soon though."
"wanna go to montreal this weekend?"
"YEAH."

i am putting my canadian citizenship to good use and leaving the country.

and i can't lift you up, my mind is tired

it's so distant now,
you've become faceless.
i can't tell if you're growing older from here
i can't tell who you are from here
do you have wrinkles now?
are you gone now?
at least you're "better than the last one".
but the last one won't be able to save you this time.

some beautiful place to get lost

all i can do now is focus on the tiny notches in my curtain
all i can see now are the little things
there is no bigger picture
i don't know you
i don't think you were ever real,
did you know that?
it's different now.
no longer a candy coated dream.
not that it ever really was
unbeknownst to me.
there's too much salt
i can't really breath
i've forgotten how
there's nowhere to go
i am stuck in endless deja-vu
circling towards un-discoveries
this whole place is illusion
this whole face is confusion
you don't understand.
i can't type, my ribbon is mirroring the world.
upside down with you.
it's tainted.
it fainted.
so all i have is here. sorry.
i didn't mean for it to be that far.
this is what it's like then,
to get to that point i only hear about.
i already knew, everyone knew
i avoided, they joked
don't look at me now, it's too much.
don't give me that politeness, i can't deal with it.
don't offer me cancer, i can't handle it.
i threw you up last night,
and now i can't eat.

i don't think i miss you anymore.
how can i miss something i don't know?

tell me when i can open my eyes again.

everything you are, you are everything.

sometimes i see you when i close my eyes
sneakers and all, it's meant for an ending less tragic.
a poem less sunken
a gaze less stolen
my skin is only wallpaper,
and you are barely breathing.
they say you won't make it.
dreams of static, clinging to my insides,
constructed of things resembling resemblings.
rumbling through bubble wrap,
you will pop every last one until motionless.
you will understand now, true taoism.
stay still, keep quiet, they won't see you if you don't move.
no, that's not it.
look twice before you forget your good looks,
they'll grey over before the rest of us.
they'll be convinced, convicted of prematurity.
moving through your follicles like those ominous clouds.
like those ominous clouds.
hey you, don't look back.
hey, you'll hurt yourself.
they'll throw stones, they'll throw you out of town.
don't sing those melodies. they're too painful for us mortals.
just find your best friend for us,
find him hiding hiding hiding from the world.
find her standing standing standing with pinkies raised, right in front of it all.
i know you know. i know you see it all through dappled lenses,
made just for you.
what now?
you are everything.






now what?

our particles are in motion

lost and found

i found these scribbled in my notebook this morning (afternoon). words and things kept running through my head last night and i kept grabbing the little guy and scratching up his innards. it's possible the spell of writer's block has been broken. it's possible.

prematurely grey skies.
i quiver beneath you,
between you.
struggling for a late night fix,
dragging ourselves through the offsets of time,
the back streets of infinity.
your chairs are cursive,
your positions perfect.
you are meant to be there.

part 2- the day is habitable

i crouch with rancid eyes
slanted and penetrating your glances.
your visions are saran-wrapped and ready to serve,
where is the order?
one time we said nothing and it did nothing but drip
drip
drip
drip your stale momentums into my coffee, black. bitter.
longing for an unescapable nightmare.
your light bounces like a thousand stars of distraction,
infinate? unknown.
what do you see in those bricks? it's not that constant, really.
it's not that solid, i swear.

"The cold has immobilized the world
Space is made of glass
glass made of air
The lightest sounds build
quick sculptures
Echoes multiply and disperse them
Maybe it will snow
The burning tree quivers
surrounded now by night
Talking to it I talk to you"

octavio, thank you for presenting my canvassed future.
stretched across the bars of it all, subtly sustaining trees.
i wish we could see and hear and feel and taste it all at once.
then, we will know time.
then, we will know the difference between you and me.
we will eat with our tongues and swear with spoons.
we will cry for keys forgotten.
because they are notes unwritten, potential in a past generation.
so we are now.
forgotten and lazy,
a little bit drunk and always stoned,
illogical and beautiful,
so we are now.

marijuana daydream

currently: eating fruitcake

i don't think i know how to write. i don't know if that's ok or not. i know how to type, that's for sure. but is there destination in the un-inked words within this computer screened universe? un-inked. we are made of links of ink. permanent and deceiving, we grace ourselves towards an ego once removed. diving on dope, we strive for a future ending tonight. there is never tomorrow, only now. there are never extroadinary tonalities, there are never never lands and lands and islands. ice lands. iceland. brrr.


dear Hampshire College

where is the weed?

soberly yours,
emma

haha

How do I know the world is like this?

By this.

So I have just joined the blogging community and I don't know if it's a good idea or not. Trial and error. People have been telling me to get one of these for a while, but I've been resisting. I had a xanga in middle school, and I mean, I was in middle school. Thus, it's content was worthy of poop. So I've kind of had this negative conotation towards writing my thoughts, feelings, ideas, current happenings, etc. on the internet. But I am one to give in, so here I am. Welcome to my mind. Please wipe your feet before entering.

"And I must borrow every changing shape
To find expression... dance, dance
Like a dancing bear,
Cry like a parrot, chatter like an ape.
Let us take the air, in a tobacco trance-"

In a tobacco trance. That would be the title of this blog if i was a smoker. Thank you Sir Eliot. Now, there's a difference between a smoker and a person who smokes. I semi consider myself the latter because I go to Hampshire College and it's a way of life here. But 98% of my close friends here are the former. They live it. Pack(s) a day. Sacrificing proper circulation for a puff a puff a puff. Good evening Massachusettes winter, may i replace your air with mine? It's unfiltered.

"I am moved by fancies that are curled
Around these images, and cling:
The notion of some infinitely gentle
Infinitely suffering thing.

Wipe your hand across your mouth, and laugh;
The worlds revolve like ancient women
Gathering fuel in vacant lots." -t.s.e

I am "impatient to assume the world."
I am certain that this one is still a dream.
I am certain everything is still asleep.
What do you do once the world has gone back to it's room?
What do you do when your typewriter becomes cliche?
It's possible I had a breakdown today,
It's possible I saw it all.
When I realized it's infinite, I used single spacing and took a nap.