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Wed, 31 Jan 2007 20:18:13 GMT

At night I feel the full weight of our fucking, the rough golden honey flavor that time takes when we push it back, pleading. Not yet. I am invincible for an hour.
It aches to leave.

Outside the morning is a cold black rush of unconnected thoughts. I'm going home. I kiss you and lie down a while until the hard whiteness outside tells me it's time to go fulfill my promises.
It aches to leave.

winter redux

Sun, 22 Oct 2006 00:10:41 GMT

broken company. slick symbols and a never ending barrage of love from the faithful departed. an unfettered stream of thinking to purge my collected desires before I venture out, venture home, neither wants my undigested universe bits. we wonder if everyone we ever lost are having a tea party somewhere, we wonder what it takes to get invited, of who the gentleman in the hat might become, might it be us? we have a nice hat waiting for the occasion...

penny

Mon, 08 May 2006 22:34:35 GMT

Some emails are like a wishing well, an electric abyss into which you can toss penny after penny never to see any return, but it doesn't matter if you beleive in the idea. Maybe down there somewhere there's a giant pile of sparkling though and well wishing, snipets of conversations that vanished one sided into the dark, plummeted down to add to the collective mystery with a soft plink.

Maybe there's nothing down there.

Make a wish.

Thu, 09 Feb 2006 05:30:48 GMT

Always short of time...

There are too kinds of sufferers in this world, those who suffer from a lack of life and those who suffer from an overabundance of life. I've always found myself to be in the second category.

scattered rythm

Thu, 02 Feb 2006 21:28:22 GMT

I hate it when your broken peices cut my fingers
and the bits that collapse where the tape won't hold.
I hate that I do everything right,
and you do everything wrong,
and somehow we're still equal.

Untie the anchor from my ankle and drift away now.
I can't fix this anymore.

Thu, 05 Jan 2006 21:41:43 GMT

shhh.. were dancing

Is that what this is? Yes

...

Why can't I see anything? Are we dancing in the dark?

You'll see when you're ready to see.

How come I can't feel my feet?

You don't need them?

But I can't dance without my feet, what if I trip?

Silly, of course you'll fall down.

Don't worry.

I'll catch you.

Promise.

little boxes

Thu, 24 Nov 2005 21:34:19 GMT

"...and tomorrow brings another train. Another young brave steals away, but you're the one I remember, from these valleys of the green and the grey."

Time for something new.
Each breath is something new really, every step, but I blinked, fooled myself into thinking there was a goal. I can't change the directions I've chosen, and I wouldn't want to change the person I am now, there are so many worse places in the human heart than where I've lead myself. I guess that's the real challenge of this, beating the plateau. Reaching a safe place and then being willing to head round the next bend, knowing that it might not be as comfortable as the place you've found to rest. There's a danger in sucess, a hushed and fragile warning they didn't tell you about.

Eventually we all wrap up some things and set them away, knowing that we'll never be an astronaut or a balerina or whatever it is our dreams made us out to be when we were young. It's not like giving up, giving up is despair, bitterness, I've felt that. This is more like moving on.

Fri, 21 Oct 2005 21:27:37 GMT

Good morning after people! For purposes of this writing, morning after is whenever the hell I feel like writing, and conforms to no standard of time or even date per se.

Meeting the goth kids tonight, for all I know none of them are kids, but we all know my love of my life gives me a tendancy to patronize. God willing I won't find any of them attractive if they are, last thing I need is that adventure again. Who am I kidding? I'd be all over any adventure, stupid repetition or not.

Found out that Creature is being a shit again, and he was being so nice to us too.. I guess he feels it necessary to say pointless hurtful things to people who wanted to be with him when he was too chicken shit to actually go for it. Sort of frustrating since her current boyfreind is a little underwhelming, would have liked to have her in the family myself.

Ah well, can't save everyobody.

Fri, 07 Oct 2005 18:09:02 GMT

Nothing like a really brutal hangover to make you feel like the night musta been worthwhile. New Model Army were in town last night and they were awsome. I mean, they produced awe, I was awed.

Better yet, they were relly cool guys after. It's nice to meet some rock stars who aren't. We got to chat about things, drink to dead fans, and generally have one of those weird alignment of life moments where the person behind the voice on the record turns out to be exactly what you thought they would be.

mysterious braingels

Wed, 05 Oct 2005 18:13:45 GMT

Those of you just tuning in, we are prepped for takeoff. I'm twenty eight years old now, that means I've kept this journal for nearly four years. I'm good with growing up now, but Shae's in that crazed studentland that collapses in on itself if you mention an outside world.

Birthday was hands down fabulous. Best quote, when passing the desk girl of the Wild Rose Revue burlesque show, decked to the nines with Shae and holding a slimy bag containing a mutilated, bloody chicken; "You have a lovely show, we're stealing your bird."

Mon, 08 Aug 2005 22:27:18 GMT

I'm avoiding my newfound responsible, promotion worthy statistics project, listening to NewModel Army sing I Love the World, and I'm sad again. Dammit, same stupid hairpin turn as always. Admittedly my last pet was dead two days ago, sure, I'm not really writing like iI'd like to be, but I'm making progress.

I'm in love with no one again. Step over, move on, the next crest is just over the hill.

Oneiros

Thu, 07 Jul 2005 16:53:35 GMT

You died last night.

You couldn't breathe, we watched, we waited, we didn't want you to be hurt or alone when you left us. We made a bed for you in a little white coffin out of silk and velvet and your favorite laundry.

I held your head. I sang you a song. I waited for you to settle down. You still couln't breathe much. The next attack might be worse. I annointed your head with tears. You closed your eyes. I whispered good night.

We put your final bed in a plastic bag, it was a long way from the ruined purse you came to us in. We took you outside. We filled the back with car exaust. Pure C02 burns, but exauhst just puts you to sleep. You moved around, annoyed with the bag.

You settled down and went to sleep. I dug your grave, deep so the animals wouldn't find you. You were soft and quiet in your box. We piled fresh thyme on you, it smelled sweet. We taped the box shut so you could get some rest. Runes of travel and rest and joy went on your bed. We put a stone on top of you to keep you safe.

Goodnight Bris, I love you.

withered lion

Wed, 01 Jun 2005 21:41:30 GMT

They're all apoligizing again, like my help is not mine to give freely, else hiding behind clean lines and cellophane. Turning point, time again, I can hear the plates that hold my life together grinding up against each other. I'm dry, dessicated, an abandoned shell for a new me to crawl into. I want to cry, but nothing hurts badly enough to waste the tears. They'll only ration them again for next year's parade.

hypodermic soul

Fri, 20 May 2005 22:52:31 GMT

Day 21,

Excising my frustration and loneliness and sense of purpose into imaginary people can't be healthy, but it is what makes good writing, so who am I to argue? I very much need a vacation, only it's been like a month since my last one. What I need is a new skin.

musing of less delicate colour

Fri, 18 Mar 2005 23:34:25 GMT

Friday afternoons. There is, for the first time in months, a really good chance that come monday this will all be over. I can take a vacation, spend some time in my life, work on my own projects and focus on what I want, rather than what I need to accomplish.

New crush this month, smarter move than the old crush, but still ultimately stupid. Stayed out till five tuesday chasing a girl, missed wednesday, massively damaged my work relationships. Why is it so hard for me to just let go of people when I find one I like?

Shae's going to italy for two months, I'm not sure how I feel about being alone in that house for an extended period of time. I can find any number of willing bedmates, but that doesn't adress the issue so much as distract me from it, and it's more trouble than it's worth.

Buffalo's off finding himself, which seems to have aquainted him with the sudden realization that we are in fact important and screwing us over because he couldn't be bothered to find a solution himself might have been bad. Too bad he won't be any wiser.

I miss him, in the sense that I miss US.

shade of clear

Thu, 10 Mar 2005 19:04:38 GMT

New puzzle box, the kind with something you just have to have inside, a prize, a secret, something. Careful now, if you break it it never opens again.

small lives

Thu, 10 Feb 2005 02:59:19 GMT

Came home last night to the feeling that something had changed. Shae was cradling Brisby on her lap and I knew, I could see it in the limp way she moved. Our pet was dying. Times like this I am particularly aware of how much I love Shae, she taught me to respect death, to see endings without fear. Being a Rat, Brisby can't go to the vet. I'm almost glad, I think the streile stupidity of having the end of her life marred by pastel walls and the sound of other animals in pain would have been poor taste. So we made her comfortable, tried to sort out what had happened to her, and fed her her favorite pasta sauce. I think the poor thing had a stroke. Her legs don't hold her up and she has a tendancy to tunr left constantly because her right leg won't support her when she tries to move. Work owns me right now and so I do not know if she is still stirring in that little nest of facecloth and newspaper or has gone now. I hope she has made it through another day, if only because I'd like to be with her when she goes. To say goodbye, rats don't have long memories. I was important in this being's life, I should be there when it ends.

counting eons

Tue, 08 Feb 2005 21:06:30 GMT

Strange how some feelings crystalize, days, weeks, even years pass and the smallest thing, an expression, a glimpse of why, and that sensation comes back perfect in it's clean agony.

Frostbite on the window again
My lips are still burning
...where you left them
They don't bleed much anymore
You can take your razor back

under the ice

Tue, 04 Jan 2005 17:16:45 GMT

Minus 22 and clear today is what the weather network says, what they mean is prepare to be stuck inside for a week or two. Not that it matters from where I am anyway. Day two back at the dark in the morning to dark at night routine, only hallway fluorescents for company. Better new years this year though, admittedly that says more about how bad last year was than anything about this year. Oh well, my life is mine at least.

and goodnight

Fri, 17 Dec 2004 10:25:06 GMT

Quiet house again. Empty room. Stayed up with Shae crying over Creature tonight. We were four songs into the breakup tape when it hit me. He's gone. I was so busy trying to be his family, I hadn't realized he'd become mine.

When he came by to announce he was going away I gave him this address, first to be written about, last to get to read it all. Knowing him he'll probably lose it, but just in case. Three years ago it seemed this would destroy me. Now I don't know how to start living without it.

For what it's worth I loved you, as whatever you were. Goodnight.

What can I tell you, my brother, my killer / What can I possibly say? / I guess that I miss you / Guess I forgive you / I'm glad that you stood in my way / If you ever come by here / for Jane or for me / Your enemy is sleeping / and his woman is free ~ Leonard Cohen, Famous Blue Raincoat

of the moral state of baking

Mon, 15 Nov 2004 18:47:29 GMT

Quote of the day:

"Virginal scones are counterpart to the dark muffins, but the dark muffins may be higher in fiber..."

I love my freinds.

In lieu of time

Wed, 10 Nov 2004 02:25:28 GMT

So here I stand
Completely alone
My skin absorbs the rain

Helpless to control
Pieces within the whole
I can feel it starting again

A sudden descent
I never ment
To manifest itself

Caught unaware
In frozen air
By visions sent in stealth

How far I've fallen
Dancing in the ruins of Purgatory
My time is borrowed
But still I waste away

I have seen your eyes
Search desperate skies
For meanings they can't find

Succumbed to Fate's
Unsteady gait
And found it too unkind

Plunge through the depths
Of what you let
Control you for too long

Life's fickle hand
Delt reprimands
You prayed for all along

How far you've fallen
Dancing in the ruins of Purgatory
Your time is borrowed
But still you waste away

Watch the world pass
Through broken glass
And wonder what went wrong

Monuments fall
On shattered walls
We once believed were strong

Our false beliefs
Are merely thieves
That steal our precious time

And off they flee
In symmetry
Never punished for their crimes

How far we've fallen
Dancing in the ruins of Purgatory
Our time is borrowed
But still we waste away

Peices of Me

Fri, 05 Nov 2004 02:22:26 GMT

My freinds don't hang around here anymore, but I know they're still out there.. somewhere. My life is fine, I wish you all well.

Everything I do I used to do better, like I'm this watered down version of myself, a pale imitation wandering my spaces collecting peices of me.

But they don't fit together the way they used to, and they break if you force them. I can hold one up and be proud of it, but I can't get it to work until I find the rest. Where did I put that? Nevermind, It'll still be there in the morning.

Won't it?

N is for Neville

Tue, 05 Oct 2004 20:01:11 GMT

Well that was stupid. When has it ever been wise to go prodding around in the lives of people you've left behind? You stopped reading all these blogs for a reason. Keep to it.

I've never felt more defined by my occupation. Being largely unhappy with said occupation the overall effect is less than glorious. Realized this weekend that while I can finally afford a place large enough to have good parties in, people are so respectful of it that they refuse to have any fun, it's like they're affraid they're going to break something.

Wanted to reinstate the dinner parties, instate really, since they've never been a regular event. She agrees completely, so long as it's not this week, or well next week, or anytime in the forseeable future really.

Worrying about her is almost as bad as when she was security, she was still awake when I got up this morning, having been forced to choose between sleep and basic hygene. She was showered, but she's at work now and she's been up for around 32 hours. The surgery on friday isn't going to make it any better, but at least it'll force her to slow down.

So, nothing new, nothing interesting, and another year where at best I'll have caved in to the inevitable and given up on adventures altogether. Where was I going again?

trace of melancholy

Fri, 10 Sep 2004 09:02:24 GMT

When we started this was decadent. Now we're just another bored old couple, except for three. We fight, we ignore each other for protracted periods, at least one of us is never getting laid, depending on who's in her favor this week. Tucking them in to bed and coming up to my space of solitude, I don't mind so much anymore. I wanted four, I loved having some symmetry, but it doesn't look likely these anymore, each attempt I make is ending worse.

I'd rather just get over it and look to what I wanted in the rest of my life. It does no good spend all your time searching for the last peice when the puzzle is already there.

Good night love, goodnight brother.

Goodnight.