Well I've got to come to some middle ground after the last two posts. As I've discovered that I have a very irresponsible concept of love.
The left hand will have to shake hands and agree to cover my eyes when the right hand is doing. My smile is getting more crooked all the time.
a.k.a. New Orleans was fun.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Saturday, February 21, 2009
I'm a soldier?
I remember why I drew this now.
My memory problem has gotten so bad. I know that my memory is broken but it still surprises me how I can forget the things I forget. Luckily I write memories down sometimes. I just read a 4 page synopsis of my last trip to LA, written on some graph paper that had been stuffed in my closet over a year ago. It reads a bit like a quirky romance novel. The visual parts of the story, I remember quite clearly - I remember the different restaurants and the halloween party. But I had forgotten the words.
There are things that were said that trip.... that define me in my view of the world. The reasons why I cannot stop loving someone. Things were said that if really and truly true, would crush my heart with the weight of their gravity. And they did then. They do now after reading my memories.
They make my moonlit deliriums not worth having. I asked how you'd gotten to be so bad and you told me I taught you everything you know. You told me to never leave again. I'd closed off this part of my memory because I can't deal with the guilt of leaving again and the silence sounds like hatred.
I don't want any other person.
I know you're not perfect but I like you just the same.... and your face is balls.
Hahaha... Fuck, I honestly did not remember saying that.
My memory problem has gotten so bad. I know that my memory is broken but it still surprises me how I can forget the things I forget. Luckily I write memories down sometimes. I just read a 4 page synopsis of my last trip to LA, written on some graph paper that had been stuffed in my closet over a year ago. It reads a bit like a quirky romance novel. The visual parts of the story, I remember quite clearly - I remember the different restaurants and the halloween party. But I had forgotten the words.
There are things that were said that trip.... that define me in my view of the world. The reasons why I cannot stop loving someone. Things were said that if really and truly true, would crush my heart with the weight of their gravity. And they did then. They do now after reading my memories.
They make my moonlit deliriums not worth having. I asked how you'd gotten to be so bad and you told me I taught you everything you know. You told me to never leave again. I'd closed off this part of my memory because I can't deal with the guilt of leaving again and the silence sounds like hatred.
I don't want any other person.
I know you're not perfect but I like you just the same.... and your face is balls.
Hahaha... Fuck, I honestly did not remember saying that.
Friday, February 20, 2009
Card 13
A whimsical boy with fantastic teeth put a bandaid on my heart last night. I remember what it's like to want something that isn't yours.
And he certainly isn't mine. But for one night we agreed to play in a world that cannot exist. We shook on it... or held hands depending on how you look at it. It was a world more perfect than the one I imagined. A world with zombies and a stack of 16 microwaves with a keyboard on top. And one white fence a block from my house. He does yoga, and He has more teeth than me, I'm sure of it. the better to eat you with she whispered. He picked me up and carried me across some threshold of sanity that I never dared cross.
I haven't felt this sort of thing in so very very long. He is strange. He loves music. And he said "I never thought a girl like you would ever find someone like me attractive" and I wonder what I am made of that could possibly compete with someone made of star dust and lucky charms and... well mushrooms, honestly.
I'm so enamored with last night. Especially now that I'm alone in my room and I can hear the clubs downtown pulsing. I can feel that in my blood. Magic and whimsy. I kept preying for delirium to take me and he did... He did.
And he certainly isn't mine. But for one night we agreed to play in a world that cannot exist. We shook on it... or held hands depending on how you look at it. It was a world more perfect than the one I imagined. A world with zombies and a stack of 16 microwaves with a keyboard on top. And one white fence a block from my house. He does yoga, and He has more teeth than me, I'm sure of it. the better to eat you with she whispered. He picked me up and carried me across some threshold of sanity that I never dared cross.
I haven't felt this sort of thing in so very very long. He is strange. He loves music. And he said "I never thought a girl like you would ever find someone like me attractive" and I wonder what I am made of that could possibly compete with someone made of star dust and lucky charms and... well mushrooms, honestly.
I'm so enamored with last night. Especially now that I'm alone in my room and I can hear the clubs downtown pulsing. I can feel that in my blood. Magic and whimsy. I kept preying for delirium to take me and he did... He did.
Saturday, February 7, 2009
Early Valentines Treats. Conversation hearts?
I have this habit of having entire conversations in my head. Sometimes I come up with these great little one liners. I actually got to use one at lunch the other day.
/scene: The bustle of a hospital cafeteria at lunch time - think Scrubs. Lots of idle conversation to distract us from the kids with faces missing.
"...and it had 4 shots of espresso."
"Wow that's strong."
"Yeah coffee like that can reanimate the dead."
/everyone laughs. The new guy even repeats "reanimate the dead. You're funny."
That's great. And I feel funny! But only because I don't have to explain that I thought up that punch line during a conversation with myself in the shower two months ago.
Sometimes I have these great arguments with someone I'm angry with... but also inside my head. I haven't left that topic yet. I come up with these vicious, bad ass things to say. I'll think about some douche-bag comment someone made to me at a party like "Take this shit home when you leave, if my girlfriend sees f-ing Smirnoff Ice in the fridge she'll ask me what kind of loose bitch was in my house. That's why they have screw-off tops, f-ing bitch's drink, man." (only the name of the beverage was changed in this story because honestly I can't remember what kind of bitch drink I brought to the poker game.) Things like that. In real life I can't even come up with anything except a stupid look on my face while the two voices in my head are blankly asking each other 'what the hell was that supposed to mean?' 'I haven't had sex in 2 years. Hah! Loose!?' 'Surely he didn't mean that.' 'Think of something clever to say so he knows it didn't get under your skin.'
But by that time 3 minutes have passed and my face is still blank with the shock that comes from growing up in a place where they still teach kids manners. (Even saying that out loud would've been a decent come back. 'Wow, I am just in shock. I don't know what to say because I grew up in a place where they still teach kids manners, you fat fucking sloppy frat-guy-looking douche-bag.') I guess I'm slow.
I was watching a comedian talking about first dates. I thought it was funny - I've never really felt like I've been on a -first date- not the kind you see on TV anyways. The whole internet thing blew my chance the first time around.. unless you count dates in a mystical forest while killing pink jellies for experience points...... hot. >.<; Anyways. And ever after I've been dating people who were friends of friends. I thought how awkward I would be on a classic dinner date with someone I gave my phone number to at a coffee shop because we had matching iPods and ordered the same double white mocha latte and had that 'special connection'.
So of course I tried imagining a date like that inside my head but every time it ended up really stupid. It's good practice at least... for that time in the future when I seriously consider that I only have 6 Halloweens left til I'm 30. That shit is scary. And yes, I count my age in Halloweens. That's only six more costumes.
Because I will be old and/or dead at 30. Hehe. Maybe not, but I'm pretty sure I will look ridiculous in a PVC catsuit after 30. In public anyways. I admit I'm already concerned with feeling sexy when I'm old and less attractive. What if in 7 years I find myself looking at a brochure, contemplating shooting up enterotoxins to give myself permanent facial nerve damage in a pathetic attempt to look younger. I hope not. That stuff keeps me up at night.
Some guy asked for my number last thursday. And he was a tattoo artist. Pretty cool huh? But I found him on a scale from 0 to 100%, about 42% attractive; where 100% is ....., 98% is reserved for people so pretty they'd make me stutter if I met them in real life like Adrien Brody and Cillian Murphy, 90% is pretty hot, 80% is cute, 50% is someone you'd kiss at a party because you were bored, 40% is the average American, 20% are the morbidly obese and circus folks, and 5% is I don't know... goats.
So I blew him off. He kept some lame doodle of myself drawn on a napkin. Meh. There's just no one who interests me in this town. No one single anyways (grumble). I don't think my standards are too high either, just unusual taste. And all the unusual people I have an affinity for seem to date (or marry, grumble) these boring normal people who don't even appreciate the weird flavor. It's a damn shame.
/scene: The bustle of a hospital cafeteria at lunch time - think Scrubs. Lots of idle conversation to distract us from the kids with faces missing.
"...and it had 4 shots of espresso."
"Wow that's strong."
"Yeah coffee like that can reanimate the dead."
/everyone laughs. The new guy even repeats "reanimate the dead. You're funny."
That's great. And I feel funny! But only because I don't have to explain that I thought up that punch line during a conversation with myself in the shower two months ago.
Sometimes I have these great arguments with someone I'm angry with... but also inside my head. I haven't left that topic yet. I come up with these vicious, bad ass things to say. I'll think about some douche-bag comment someone made to me at a party like "Take this shit home when you leave, if my girlfriend sees f-ing Smirnoff Ice in the fridge she'll ask me what kind of loose bitch was in my house. That's why they have screw-off tops, f-ing bitch's drink, man." (only the name of the beverage was changed in this story because honestly I can't remember what kind of bitch drink I brought to the poker game.) Things like that. In real life I can't even come up with anything except a stupid look on my face while the two voices in my head are blankly asking each other 'what the hell was that supposed to mean?' 'I haven't had sex in 2 years. Hah! Loose!?' 'Surely he didn't mean that.' 'Think of something clever to say so he knows it didn't get under your skin.'
But by that time 3 minutes have passed and my face is still blank with the shock that comes from growing up in a place where they still teach kids manners. (Even saying that out loud would've been a decent come back. 'Wow, I am just in shock. I don't know what to say because I grew up in a place where they still teach kids manners, you fat fucking sloppy frat-guy-looking douche-bag.') I guess I'm slow.
I was watching a comedian talking about first dates. I thought it was funny - I've never really felt like I've been on a -first date- not the kind you see on TV anyways. The whole internet thing blew my chance the first time around.. unless you count dates in a mystical forest while killing pink jellies for experience points...... hot. >.<; Anyways. And ever after I've been dating people who were friends of friends. I thought how awkward I would be on a classic dinner date with someone I gave my phone number to at a coffee shop because we had matching iPods and ordered the same double white mocha latte and had that 'special connection'.
So of course I tried imagining a date like that inside my head but every time it ended up really stupid. It's good practice at least... for that time in the future when I seriously consider that I only have 6 Halloweens left til I'm 30. That shit is scary. And yes, I count my age in Halloweens. That's only six more costumes.
Because I will be old and/or dead at 30. Hehe. Maybe not, but I'm pretty sure I will look ridiculous in a PVC catsuit after 30. In public anyways. I admit I'm already concerned with feeling sexy when I'm old and less attractive. What if in 7 years I find myself looking at a brochure, contemplating shooting up enterotoxins to give myself permanent facial nerve damage in a pathetic attempt to look younger. I hope not. That stuff keeps me up at night.
Some guy asked for my number last thursday. And he was a tattoo artist. Pretty cool huh? But I found him on a scale from 0 to 100%, about 42% attractive; where 100% is ....., 98% is reserved for people so pretty they'd make me stutter if I met them in real life like Adrien Brody and Cillian Murphy, 90% is pretty hot, 80% is cute, 50% is someone you'd kiss at a party because you were bored, 40% is the average American, 20% are the morbidly obese and circus folks, and 5% is I don't know... goats.
So I blew him off. He kept some lame doodle of myself drawn on a napkin. Meh. There's just no one who interests me in this town. No one single anyways (grumble). I don't think my standards are too high either, just unusual taste. And all the unusual people I have an affinity for seem to date (or marry, grumble) these boring normal people who don't even appreciate the weird flavor. It's a damn shame.
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