Archive for March, 2012

The Station Agent

Posted: March 27, 2012 in hidden admonishment

Temper Temper

Posted: March 25, 2012 in otiose
Tags: , ,

My longtime companion. The precursor. The warning sign. The red flag ushering in self-destruction flaring up from the mire of depression that came to stay in the ebb of its wake.

Sure. Of course, I’m aware of it.

Water stirs up indigestion in an attempt to keep anything down it’s all that goes in and it’s going to come up fighting the peripheral vision piercing from the other room the bathroom light on the bathroom empty stomach empty running on empty with a white dog snarling at the back door on the porch in the dark through the glass past the mirror with a whistle and a click tearing through curtains tearing up and turning red

eat something

Making up rules changing minds stretching truths weaving fiction stating opinions touting facts lax statistics static lack of ambition ignoring intuition shouting over elevator doors closing on toes pointed out of line up count off the number of shots fired off the table under the table under the floorboards whining about being bored ten minutes into the shit sticking to the eavesdropping out of the bottoms up to no good


No place out there where it’s all condescending demeaning overstated and underground stay down the water wants to come up maybe if it’s colder so freeze it and forget it and throw it away because intellect conflicts with feeling inadequate disrespectful and fucked up full of shit inconsistent reminiscent of a protracted sickness persistently ill-defined misdiagnosed and ignoring the devil in the means unjustifiably unending to end up moribund in a dead end pursuit of happenstance undermining circumstantial insignificance with inefficacy in talking shit.


Posted: March 22, 2012 in hidden admonishment
Tags: , , ,

I’ve been dredging through the past
dragging things out to kill them.
Slipping up and muddling the lines
If I can forget the mapping of the night sky
I can lose anything.


I want to go home, which is an odd sentiment
indicating to me that no such place exists yet
Everything is maddeningly still.
Living wrapped up warm inside your voice
is no longer an option.

Can I please stop caring soon?

I remember unpleasant things
bringing my dry cheek to the cool floor of the kitchen
staring into the dusty shadows under the cabinets
until the cat silently pads up to my face

inquiring about dinner.

You dye your hair, because you’re ashamed of getting older.
The past you share is active and cherished.

I’m always the same age.

Every factoid you glean, you turn in your hand as if it’s interesting.
My life is interesting.
I am interesting.

To you.

Do you know who you are?
Look down on me in disgust, but don’t pity me.
I chose the floor.

Look down on me, so that I don’t have to look up to you.

I should apologize to a lot of people that I don’t like,
because they never did anything to me.

Would anyone believe me?

I don’t know what happened.
I can frame it up a thousands different ways, but it’s never right.
Anyone that can accept me should be good enough
and better than expected.

I must be lying.

Don’t look at me at all.
Shake a flower to find a bird; I’m neither.
I’ve abandoned my roots and have no nest.
You look at me like you’re attracted to the idea of helping me,
but the track marks trail off, burning.

I’m not a damsel in distress.

You moved on before I lost you
the truth…

It sounds so absolute and beautiful, but I’d rather face plant into the floor than admit it.
Anagrams don’t alter the core, and I can’t run from the things I try to discard.
I just wanted you to hold me.
I’m so sorry.
Cats don’t care whether cheeks are wet or dry.

They just want dinner.

Here are the top ten reasons why we will never get along:

1. I know what I want, like what I have, and I’m an uncompromising bitch when it comes to conforming to outside ideals. I don’t think I’m better than you, but that doesn’t mean I have to like or respect you either. The two lines of thought are mutually exclusive.
2. My mood changes with high intensity at low intervals, and I do not consider this a hindrance or flaw.
3. I have no tolerance for your hackneyed, unsolicited, or otherwise nonsequitur guess work, and all opinions are not equal.
4. Talking is superfluous and uninteresting under most circumstances, and any situations where it’s deemed necessary should be minimal.
5. You cannot find me via Facebook, you cannot text me, and I will not respond to you at all unless there’s a legitimate reason…or I’m being reimbursed to pretend I give a fuck.
6. My sleeping and eating habits are cyclical, extreme, and erratic. When in close proximity to me for any length of time, this will cause problems.
7. I never go out for the fun of it, and I will not feign having a good time if coerced into a social outing.
8. I won’t invite you in, and if you invite me in, there’s a good chance I’ll decline. If I do accept your invitation once, don’t expect me to accept it a second time.
For a good time, leave expectations at the door.
9. Social etiquette is nothing but condescending pandering in an egocentric daisychain. I will accidentally, but repeatedly, say the wrong thing, mean it, and stick by it. If I’m wrong by my own standards, I will apologize and take the oversight as a personal failing. If you say the wrong thing, I will generally and genuinely overreact in an inconsistent fashion.
10. I’m an openly unhappy individual with emotional baggage, flaws, scars, dirty misconceptions, and an established but unrealistic personal code of ethics. I’m not looking for someone else to make me happy, fix me, or complete my fantasies. I am whole; ugly, jaded, worn, constantly changing and full of contradictions, but whole.

Posted: March 11, 2012 in otiose
Tags: , , ,

This was my favorite cartoon when I was little, until I took the VHS outside and left it in the rain.
I also thoroughly enjoy the Simpsons version.


Posted: March 8, 2012 in hidden admonishment
Tags: , ,

I’m speechless.

I don’t think about you often, and when I do, it’s with a cold neutrality and a slight uneasiness instead of the more turbulent intensities in mood that still kick up when I remember others. To put it quite bluntly, after all this time and all the space I’ve put between us, my actions are still dictated by you. It’s a power I know you shouldn’t have, something I symbolically revoked, but passively…

I might never be okay.